Read Online Criminal Confections by Colette London - Free Book Online Page A

embarrassingly girly squeal.
    Whoops. Ordinarily, I pride myself on not being your stereotypical girly girl. Fluff isn’t for me. It never has been. For one thing, “helpless, pink-loving princess” doesn’t play well worldwide—not when you’re hanging your own mosquito nets. But it had been a tough night. I’m only human. So shoot me.
    It was some consolation that Christian squealed, too. The sight of Danny on a mission tended to do that to people.
    Christian leaped out of our way, wide-eyed and flushed. He looked as if he’d been caught doing something devious. At that point, I have to admit, I was ready to think the worst of him. More than likely, I figured, he’d been in the kitchen firing someone, just for laughs. Or maybe kicking puppies. The jerk.
    Or chowing down on chocolate, I realized, belatedly noticing the telltale brown smudges on his dress shirt. Some of them looked pretty distinct, almost like chocolaty fingerprints.
    But by then, Danny had tugged me past Lemaître’s personal Napoleon and into the service stairwell, and I was saved.
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    â€œI should go back,” I said as soon as I realized it.
    Isn’t that the way of it, though? Superman bravery comes through ten minutes after the crisis has passed. Now that I was in the clear, I felt awful about not doing more to help.
    â€œYou’re not going back.” Danny kept moving.
    In his wake, I did, too. Not that I could help it. His grip on my arm was like Iron Man’s. His attitude forbade argument.
    It was that attitude (predictably) that got my dander up.
    I yanked back, then stopped cold. Against Danny’s momentum, my efforts were pretty laughable. I basically skidded along the floor like a cartoon character. That only made me madder.
    I was a good person, wasn’t I? If I wanted to go back and help Adrienne, I would. So I dug in my (flats-wearing) heels and held my ground.
    â€œI could have done something,” I insisted.
    Sure, other people had seen what Adrienne had eaten and drunk that day. I wasn’t special. But I wanted to help.
    â€œIt’s too late for anybody to do anything.”
    Just then, Danny’s usual pragmatism didn’t sit well with me. Neither did the dank atmosphere in the deserted stairwell.
    I was grateful for its echo-chamber silence, but I could have done without its subzero, frostbite-inducing temperature. I shivered. In fact, I shivered so hard that my teeth chattered.
    That’s probably what made Danny stop dragging me along like a recalcitrant three-year-old. He stopped and stared at me.
    Roughly, he took off his suit jacket. This is probably the part where you’re expecting him to gently tuck it around my shoulders for warmth, all Bogey-meets-Hepburn in Sabrina style. But that’s only because you don’t know Danny like I do.
    He threw it at me instead. “Take this.” He gave my make-do cocktail dress a frown. “Next time, go to the party less naked.”
    Naked? As if Danny would ever notice. I could gallivant around wearing nothing but gym socks and tasseled pasties, and Danny would treat me (mostly) like a kid sister. As proof? His suit coat, which rocketed at me like a 90 mph fastball. I caught it while it was still warm from his body. That heat was enough to convince me to put it on, despite my exasperation with him.
    Ah. Warmth enveloped me in instant bliss. Except for the part where we had just seen one of my friends— my friends! —die.
    But I didn’t want to talk about that. I couldn’t.
    â€œIt’s not my fault Christian is too cheap to heat this place properly.” I stamped my feet, wishing I’d worn my motorcycle boots. But they lived at Travis’s place, where all my stuff that didn’t pack well—but had sentimental value—cooled its heels. Possibly in alphabetical order, knowing my accountant.
    â€œBig news. Christian’s an ass, even when it comes to