Mick is Fae. I couldn’t tell
and he never told me.”
“Why would he? Most Fae come to the human
world to live a normal, at least by your standards, life. Mick was
left there by accident, but by the time he found out he was Fae,
human seemed more normal. He wouldn’t have wanted to risk it.”
The elevator stopped at the fifth floor. No
one got on. Again, she punched the L button for Lobby.
Cenrick sighed, drawing her attention.
Studying him, with his amazingly broad shoulders and rugged, sexy
features, she grimaced. “You know, I can’t see any family
resemblance between you and Mick.”
Mick was… ordinary looking. Average height,
average build, sandy-brown hair, regular face. Cenrick, on the
other hand…
He brought Conan the barbarian to mind, even
dressed in his wrinkle-free khakis and tight-fitting, t-shirt. Talk
about the ‘it’ factor. This guy had it in spades.
“Different sides of the family.” He shrugged,
his face carefully blank.
Cop-face, she thought, wondering why. She
studied him again, trying for her usual detachment, but the
feminine side of her couldn’t help but appreciate him.
He could have been a movie star, or romance
novel cover model, with his thick hair, hair so dark it was almost
black, tumbling all the way to his shoulders. On some men, this
might signal trouble, but on him it looked… just right.
The rest of him was just right as well. His
physique was amazing. At the gym she’d seen men work for years
trying to obtain such a build. He had broad, muscular shoulders, a
narrow waist with, she was willing to bet, a set of pecs and abs
that would make a champion bodybuilder jealous.
Not to discount his face. Good Lord, no. His
gorgeous high cheekbones, ruggedly chiseled features, and amazing
eyes the color of molten chocolate made him so beautiful that
looking at him almost hurt.
Almost .
She sighed as the elevator doors slowly
opened. Yep, Cenrick of Rune was absolutely mouth-watering. If, she
amended hastily to herself, one was in the market for a man. Which
she wasn’t.
Hastily, she averted her eyes.
“Something wrong?” he asked, stepped aside to
let her exit first.
“Nope.” Pushing past him, she cleared her
throat, slightly embarrassed to be caught looking, and gave him her
best detached look. The frozen, don’t mess with me stare she’d
spent years perfecting in foster home after foster home. Girls that
looked like her, even when she was still a child, learned quickly
how awful men could be. Only around Mick was she able to relax. And
later, Peter, who’d teased and joked his way past her defenses.
The Ice Princess, they called her around the
precinct. Dee had always been proud of her ice princess moniker.
Hell, being aloof was the only way an attractive woman could make
it in law enforcement, or any male-dominated career, for that
matter.
All her life she’d had to play down her
looks. She’d taken care to ensure that words like Barbie Doll and
advancement-by-couch were never applied to her. Though her blonde
hair was thick and healthy, she kept it cut short, wearing it
tucked neatly behind her ears. She chose loose, non-descript
clothing to hide her admittedly curvy figure, and saved the dangly
earrings and heels for out-of-town weekends with Peter, the man
she’d thought loved her.
Obviously, she’d been fooling herself. Both
about Peter and her job. And about Mick, her pretend-brother.
She forced her thoughts back on track. Mick
and her job – two monumental problems, somehow intertwined. Though
she’d become a cop because of Mick, she’d always given her job one
hundred and ten percent. She was a good, no, an excellent cop, and
all the guys respected her.
Or, they had respected her. Now the
taint of false accusations would flush her career right down the
toilet, unless she could clear her name. Odd how the word of a
known prostitute was enough to make the department open an
investigation. The hooker had accused Dee of roughing her up
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