Read Online Golden Anidae (A Blushing Death Novel) by Suzanne M. Sabol - Free Book Online
Authors: Suzanne M. Sabol
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me.
“I moved back to Vegas to be near family but I hardly ever see them.” Turning the full weight of his pain-filled eyes on me, he said, “But like you, I’m getting better all the time.”
There was a glimmer of cruelty to the upturn of his lips and I sat back in my chair, confused. The pain in his eyes and the menace curling his lips into a grim smile didn’t add up. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and any sympathy I had for him disappeared as my stomach tightened in panic and warning.
“That’s . . . great,” I said. He glanced down at his watch, and I took the opportunity to shiver at the contradiction sitting across the table from me.
“I’ve gotta get back. Can I walk you out?” he asked, wrapping the remains of his burger back up and shoving it in the bag.
“Sure,” I said, gathering my trash.
He took it from me and strode over to the garbage cans. Placing his hand at the small of my back in a territorial, yet chauvinistic gesture, he guided me outside.
I wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. Normally, he would have gotten an elbow to the face for a move like that but I needed this guy. I needed to get closer and get him talking. So, I ignored the testosterone-filled posturing and sashayed out with my helmet under my arm.
He stopped in front of my beautiful Kawasaki Concours. The deep metallic blue paint shimmered in the desert sun. The bike still looked like the day I’d rolled it out of Danny’s garage. I went through a lot of trouble to take care of that motorcycle and it looked that way.
“Is this yours?” he asked, envy making his voice rough.
I smiled to myself as I gave her a once-over. My bike was definitely a her . Sleek, sexy, and could put you on your ass if you weren’t careful.
“Yep.” I brushed my fingers through my now shoulder-length hair, smoothing it out of the way before I slipped the helmet on. “It was nice to see you, Detective Salazan,” I said, gripping the helmet.
He held out his hand. After a slight hesitation, I shook it. I wanted to seem receptive but not over eager.
“Please,” he said, the ‘s’ hissing through perfect white teeth. “My name is Cordero but you can call me Cord,” he said, stroking his thumb over the top of my hand, still clutched in his tight grasp.
Narrowing my gaze on him, I evaluated his face for a moment or two. I leaned forward into his personal space, tugging the hand still clutched in mine. I peered up at him from underneath my eyelashes like I’d seen Jade do a hundred times. See, I could flirt when I had too. At least, I think I was flirting.
“You don’t look like a Cord to me, Cordero,” I said, putting the proper roll to the ‘r’s in his name.
A quick gasp filled his chest, sucking on his teeth as his heart raced, making his rich scent fill the air around him. So he liked that. I’d keep that in mind.
“May I call you Dahlia?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble of lust and heat.
“Please,” I purred, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth with an enticing smile lighting my eyes.
Patrick had once told me that that single gesture drove him into a lust-filled frenzy every time I did it. He’d said it promised things to come. I needed Detective Salazan to believe that those things could and would come. Some might call it a tease; I called it insurance.
I stepped to the bike and raised my leg over the back until I was straddling the seat. I wanted him to offer something other than the happenstance lunch. I could only play that card so many times before he’d think I was a stalker. That, or know I was following him which, technically, still made me a stalker.
I sat on the bike, watching him for as long as I could before it got weird. I slid the helmet on and hit the ignition. Leaving Cordero Salazan behind, I roared out and across two lanes of traffic, away from the precinct. Disappointment rattled me. I hadn’t planned on our little meeting ending with so much undecided. I didn’t
“I moved back to Vegas to be near family but I hardly ever see them.” Turning the full weight of his pain-filled eyes on me, he said, “But like you, I’m getting better all the time.”
There was a glimmer of cruelty to the upturn of his lips and I sat back in my chair, confused. The pain in his eyes and the menace curling his lips into a grim smile didn’t add up. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and any sympathy I had for him disappeared as my stomach tightened in panic and warning.
“That’s . . . great,” I said. He glanced down at his watch, and I took the opportunity to shiver at the contradiction sitting across the table from me.
“I’ve gotta get back. Can I walk you out?” he asked, wrapping the remains of his burger back up and shoving it in the bag.
“Sure,” I said, gathering my trash.
He took it from me and strode over to the garbage cans. Placing his hand at the small of my back in a territorial, yet chauvinistic gesture, he guided me outside.
I wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. Normally, he would have gotten an elbow to the face for a move like that but I needed this guy. I needed to get closer and get him talking. So, I ignored the testosterone-filled posturing and sashayed out with my helmet under my arm.
He stopped in front of my beautiful Kawasaki Concours. The deep metallic blue paint shimmered in the desert sun. The bike still looked like the day I’d rolled it out of Danny’s garage. I went through a lot of trouble to take care of that motorcycle and it looked that way.
“Is this yours?” he asked, envy making his voice rough.
I smiled to myself as I gave her a once-over. My bike was definitely a her . Sleek, sexy, and could put you on your ass if you weren’t careful.
“Yep.” I brushed my fingers through my now shoulder-length hair, smoothing it out of the way before I slipped the helmet on. “It was nice to see you, Detective Salazan,” I said, gripping the helmet.
He held out his hand. After a slight hesitation, I shook it. I wanted to seem receptive but not over eager.
“Please,” he said, the ‘s’ hissing through perfect white teeth. “My name is Cordero but you can call me Cord,” he said, stroking his thumb over the top of my hand, still clutched in his tight grasp.
Narrowing my gaze on him, I evaluated his face for a moment or two. I leaned forward into his personal space, tugging the hand still clutched in mine. I peered up at him from underneath my eyelashes like I’d seen Jade do a hundred times. See, I could flirt when I had too. At least, I think I was flirting.
“You don’t look like a Cord to me, Cordero,” I said, putting the proper roll to the ‘r’s in his name.
A quick gasp filled his chest, sucking on his teeth as his heart raced, making his rich scent fill the air around him. So he liked that. I’d keep that in mind.
“May I call you Dahlia?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble of lust and heat.
“Please,” I purred, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth with an enticing smile lighting my eyes.
Patrick had once told me that that single gesture drove him into a lust-filled frenzy every time I did it. He’d said it promised things to come. I needed Detective Salazan to believe that those things could and would come. Some might call it a tease; I called it insurance.
I stepped to the bike and raised my leg over the back until I was straddling the seat. I wanted him to offer something other than the happenstance lunch. I could only play that card so many times before he’d think I was a stalker. That, or know I was following him which, technically, still made me a stalker.
I sat on the bike, watching him for as long as I could before it got weird. I slid the helmet on and hit the ignition. Leaving Cordero Salazan behind, I roared out and across two lanes of traffic, away from the precinct. Disappointment rattled me. I hadn’t planned on our little meeting ending with so much undecided. I didn’t
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