as ordinary as the boy next door.
Until he smiled. Then any woman would be able to say exactly what all the excitement was about. That smile combined a boyish eagerness to please and sleepy sensuality in a way that invited thoughts of wild sexual adventures. The glint in his eyes promised intelligence and fun. Molly had discovered that the expression didn’t lie. Duke Lane was both smart and witty, facts too often lost in the Hollywood hype. She wanted Michael to see that side of him.
“Think we should ask him to join us?”
Michael gave her a wry look. “Could I stop you?”
“Admit it,” she said. “You’re every bit as curious as I am.”
He leaned back in his chair. “True. Bring him on.”
Molly stood up and walked over to the young actor, who was wearing faded jeans, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots. It was the same laid-back clothing style affected by his character Rod Lukens, the dressed-up boy-toy of the film. Either he liked to stay in character or he didn’t waste his millions on wardrobe.
“Duke?”
He turned toward her and the famous Duke Lane grin spread across his face. “Molly! What a relief! I hate going out by myself. Some chick spots me and the next thing I know I’m mobbed. If I’d had one more hamburger from room service, though, I think I would have thrown up.”
A pleasant image, Molly thought. “I’m with a friend. Come join us.”
She led the way back to the table and made the introductions. She neglected to mention that Michael was a cop. Since he wasn’t here in any official capacity, she figured it wasn’t relevant. Interestingly enough, he didn’t offer the information himself.
With a slight wave of his hand, Duke was able to get the attention of a waitress who’d been ignoring them since the instant she realized Michael wasn’t interested. She sashayed over so fast she stirred a breeze that sent napkins from half a dozen tables fluttering to the ground.
Despite his claim that he craved anonymity, Duke removed his sunglasses and directed his babyblue eyes straight at the waitress, practically commanding her to recognize him. She didn’t fail him. Her own eyes widened and her pencil dropped to the ground. Michael retrieved it since she seemed too busy staring in openmouthed adoration.
“You’re Duke Lane,” she said finally. “Ohmigosh. Wait’ll I tell the others. Oh, wow!”
“What’s good, honey?” His tone suggested he was interested in more than what was on the menu.
“Salads,” she said in a breathy voice that indicated she had fallen victim to his sexy innuendoes. “We have really good salads.”
Duke seemed to tire of the game. “Then bring me one,” he said abruptly. “Dressing on the side. A bottle of mineral water.” He winked at her. “We’ll talk about dessert later.”
Molly noticed that Michael was watching the entire act as if he ought to be taking notes. She felt like reassuring him that his own technique was considerably more effective, at least on any female over twenty-one.
“Terrible about Greg,” Duke said when the waitress had left. “I had the car radio on and I heard it on a newsbreak. I almost crashed into a guard rail.”
“What time was it on?” Molly asked, relieved that Duke had brought the subject up himself. “I didn’t even think to see what time the story broke on the news.”
“Midnight, maybe later. I was coming back to the hotel from having drinks with a friend down in Coconut Grove, some yuppie bar. Man, you ever go there on a Saturday night? That place is overrunwith kids. I’ve never seen so many convertibles and boom boxes in one place before, except maybe Santa Monica beach in the summer.”
“Any thoughts about who might have shot Kinsey?” Michael asked.
Duke frowned. “Who shot him? You mean it wasn’t some kind of mugging or something? They didn’t give any details on the radio. They just said he was dead.”
Molly shook her head. “We were still on location. His body was found in
Until he smiled. Then any woman would be able to say exactly what all the excitement was about. That smile combined a boyish eagerness to please and sleepy sensuality in a way that invited thoughts of wild sexual adventures. The glint in his eyes promised intelligence and fun. Molly had discovered that the expression didn’t lie. Duke Lane was both smart and witty, facts too often lost in the Hollywood hype. She wanted Michael to see that side of him.
“Think we should ask him to join us?”
Michael gave her a wry look. “Could I stop you?”
“Admit it,” she said. “You’re every bit as curious as I am.”
He leaned back in his chair. “True. Bring him on.”
Molly stood up and walked over to the young actor, who was wearing faded jeans, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots. It was the same laid-back clothing style affected by his character Rod Lukens, the dressed-up boy-toy of the film. Either he liked to stay in character or he didn’t waste his millions on wardrobe.
“Duke?”
He turned toward her and the famous Duke Lane grin spread across his face. “Molly! What a relief! I hate going out by myself. Some chick spots me and the next thing I know I’m mobbed. If I’d had one more hamburger from room service, though, I think I would have thrown up.”
A pleasant image, Molly thought. “I’m with a friend. Come join us.”
She led the way back to the table and made the introductions. She neglected to mention that Michael was a cop. Since he wasn’t here in any official capacity, she figured it wasn’t relevant. Interestingly enough, he didn’t offer the information himself.
With a slight wave of his hand, Duke was able to get the attention of a waitress who’d been ignoring them since the instant she realized Michael wasn’t interested. She sashayed over so fast she stirred a breeze that sent napkins from half a dozen tables fluttering to the ground.
Despite his claim that he craved anonymity, Duke removed his sunglasses and directed his babyblue eyes straight at the waitress, practically commanding her to recognize him. She didn’t fail him. Her own eyes widened and her pencil dropped to the ground. Michael retrieved it since she seemed too busy staring in openmouthed adoration.
“You’re Duke Lane,” she said finally. “Ohmigosh. Wait’ll I tell the others. Oh, wow!”
“What’s good, honey?” His tone suggested he was interested in more than what was on the menu.
“Salads,” she said in a breathy voice that indicated she had fallen victim to his sexy innuendoes. “We have really good salads.”
Duke seemed to tire of the game. “Then bring me one,” he said abruptly. “Dressing on the side. A bottle of mineral water.” He winked at her. “We’ll talk about dessert later.”
Molly noticed that Michael was watching the entire act as if he ought to be taking notes. She felt like reassuring him that his own technique was considerably more effective, at least on any female over twenty-one.
“Terrible about Greg,” Duke said when the waitress had left. “I had the car radio on and I heard it on a newsbreak. I almost crashed into a guard rail.”
“What time was it on?” Molly asked, relieved that Duke had brought the subject up himself. “I didn’t even think to see what time the story broke on the news.”
“Midnight, maybe later. I was coming back to the hotel from having drinks with a friend down in Coconut Grove, some yuppie bar. Man, you ever go there on a Saturday night? That place is overrunwith kids. I’ve never seen so many convertibles and boom boxes in one place before, except maybe Santa Monica beach in the summer.”
“Any thoughts about who might have shot Kinsey?” Michael asked.
Duke frowned. “Who shot him? You mean it wasn’t some kind of mugging or something? They didn’t give any details on the radio. They just said he was dead.”
Molly shook her head. “We were still on location. His body was found in
Similar Books
