Undercover In High Heels

Hills.

Chapter 17

The sun was long gone by the time we climbed the last ridge to Felix’s monument to modern architecture, the sky a deep blue by now, almost dark enough to see stars if the ever-present sheen of city lights didn’t blind them out. The night air had chilled considerably, and Jasmine and I were doing a teeth-chattering duet as wind whipped through her nonexistent windows.

“I swear I’ll pay for these, ” I stammered, feeling my lips turn blue.

“Damn straight you will! Are we almost there?”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Jasmine was eager to get rid of me.

“A couple more turns, ” I responded.

Jasmine mumbled something under her breath (I caught the words blonde and pain in the ass) and cranked the wheel to the right as she wound farther upward. Finally the trees broke, and Felix’s glass structure came into view.

“Wow, ” Jasmine said. “Who is this guy? And more important, what does he like to watch? I could retire on a perv this rich.”

I ignored her comment, as, at the moment, the important question on my mind was, would he put up a slightly snarky shoe designer on the run from the cops for a night?

“You can let me out here, ” I said as she pulled into the drive.

Jasmine shot me a look and, for a second I could see her desire to meet Mr. Megabucks warring with her desire to be Maddie-free. For a second. Personally, I think it was the shot-out windows that put her over the edge.

“Yeah, fine. And don’t think I won’t send you the bill for the car!” she reminded me as I grabbed my purse and got out. I scarcely had the passenger door shut again before she had the Miata in reverse, peeling out of the drive and back down the hill.

I climbed the steps to Felix’s front door, crossing my fingers he was home. I gave a sharp rap and waited two beats while footsteps approached from inside.

Felix opened the door and stared at me.

“Maddie?”

I gave him a one-finger wave. “Hi. So, um, I need another favor.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Lovely to see you, too. What, me? I’m just fine, thanks for asking, love.”

If I’d had any energy left in me, I might have felt bad. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. I hate getting shot at.”

At the word shot Felix’s face immediately lost its mocking hint, his eyebrows drawing together in a tight line. “Again? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. She’s got terrible aim. Can I come in?”

Felix stepped back. “Of course. I was just making some cappuccino.” He gave me a quick (sort of) up-and- down. “You look like you could use one.”

He motioned for me to follow him as he led the way down a hallway and into a kitchen massive enough to make Rachael Ray jealous. He proceeded to flip on a cappuccino machine the size of a Buick and pull two coffee mugs down as I sat at the granite counter and relayed to him the entire events of the day, starting with his gun getting confiscated (to which he asked whether I knew how much that thing had cost him-cheapskate) and ending with the Mickey D’s shootout and my conversation with Margo. By the time I was finished, we were both downing steaming mugs of cappuccino, and Felix’s forehead was permanently etched in a frown. No doubt from trying to take mental notes on every detail for the Informer’s headline tomorrow: Blonde Fugitive Spotted Eating Massive Amounts of Apple Pie While Getting Shot At. By Bigfoot. (Hey, they were the Informer. They took a little artistic license with their facts.)

“You think Margo did it?”

I rested my chin in both hands. “Maybe. I don’t know. But with Mia getting another note today, it sounds like whoever it is isn’t satisfied yet. I mean, if Veronika was a mistake, and Dusty was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe whoever is after Mia will try again.”

“Personally, I’d say it sounds like she deserves it. Is there anyone she hasn’t screwed?”

I shrugged. “Beats me.”

“So, what’s our next move, Miss Marple?”

“Who?”

He shot me a lopsided grin. “Never mind.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but my next move is sleep. Which reminds me…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “I was kind of hoping that maybe I could stay here tonight?”

Felix raised one eloquent eyebrow at me.

But I didn’t give him a chance to say no, jumping right into the speech I’d mentally practiced on the way here. “See, my place isn’t safe, what with Isabel running around, and it’s still kind of trashed, and I can’t go to Ramirez’s because, even forgetting the fact that I don’t have a key, he left a really pissed-off message about escaping the babysitter, and he probably wouldn’t open the door for me anyway, and Dana’s not home, probably at SA, and Jasmine has cameras all over the ceiling, and, well, you were my last hope.”

“It’s always lovely to know I’m at the bottom of your list, Maddie.”

I ignored his sarcasm. “Please?” I pleaded, doing my best pathetic voice. Which, considering the day I’d had, wasn’t too hard to fake.

He paused, his face unreadable. Then finally he said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Come on. I’m sorry about the whole Deveroux-is-gay story. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Please, please, pretty please?”

Felix looked at me over his mug. He bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his blue eyes. I could see emotions at war, but I wouldn’t venture to guess what they were.

Finally he relented. “All right, you win. Guest room’s upstairs. First door on the left.”

I was so relieved I actually jumped off my stool and hugged him.

For half a second he went completely rigid. Then his arms circled around my waist. Lightly. As if he were almost afraid to touch me. Odd as it may sound, it actually felt kind of nice. His rough cheek pressed against mine, and I felt myself inhaling deeply the scents of spicy cologne and warm cappuccino.

“Thanks.” I lifted my face to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

And that was when it happened. Somehow his head turned. And instead of my lips coming up against stubbled cheek, they were suddenly on his lips. Soft lips. Lips that tasted like imported coffee. And they were moving, slowly, brushing over mine, warm breath whispering as they skimmed my bottom lip.

I think I made a little sighing noise.

And just like that they were gone.

I realized I had my eyes closed and opened them to find him two steps away, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes locked onto my mouth.

I blinked. What had just happened?

“Felix, I-” I started.

But he cut me off, his voice husky and thick with an emotion I didn’t want to guess at, as he turned his back to me and quickly grabbed both of our mugs, taking them to the stainless sink. “Guest room’s the first door on the left. Good night.”

I stood there watching his back for a full two seconds before I managed a feeble, “Good night, ” and followed the stairs to the first door on the right.

Which turned out to be a bathroom, because, of course, Felix had said “left, ” not “right.” So sue me if I wasn’t totally paying attention at that point. I’d just been kissed by Tabloid Boy.

And worse yet, I’d liked it.

I was on a beach. A white, sandy beach filled with palm trees and tropical breezes. The sound of the ocean roared behind me, the scent of salt water filling my nostrils as warm sun soaked into my skin. I was probably going