returned a moment later with parfait glasses filled with chocolate mousse. He set one in front of her with the air of Michelangelo unveiling his
'Omigosh,' was all she could say.
It had layers of dark, light, and medium chocolate topped with melted fudge and mint leaves. He set a long-handled silver spoon beside it. 'This is my party piece. Enjoy.'
'It looks amazing.' Holly thought about how stuffed she was, but knew she would eat every bite. 'How come you're not either married or four hundred pounds?'
'I don't eat like this often,' he replied. 'And I do have serious character flaws.'
She took a spoonful, speechless as the chocolate melted on her tongue. He watched her reaction with obvious pleasure.
'How serious are those flaws?'
He looked down at his dessert, showing long, dark lashes. 'I like handcuffs.'
'Oh, yeah?' Holly took another spoonful of parfait. She remembered
'Negotiable.' This time he smiled enough to show strong, slightly crooked teeth.
'Sorry,' she said, mentally backpedaling. 'Chocolate brings out the flirt. You were going to tell me about the weird thing.'
He sat back, all the humor gone. 'I've been home today. Some sudden bug.'
Holly set the spoon down. She hadn't actually believed his sick-day story. 'Yeah?'
Macmillan's gaze drifted away. 'Maybe it was food poisoning. I dunno. I went back to work after dinner last night. I got into a completely stupid argument with my supervisor. Then I got deathly ill.'
'Any ideas why?'
'I went for dinner and met this hot girl. Her name was Jenny.'
Holly's eyebrows went up. 'And this is a problem?'
'She kissed me.'
'Woo-hoo,' she said flatly.
Macmillan gave her a level stare. 'I think she did something to me. It felt weird. She felt weird. I felt weird after.'
'Can you elaborate on the weird part?'
'Angry. Hollow. Sick to my stomach. Sort of like I'd lost my life savings and been pumped full of toxins at the same time. I don't think it was ordinary, y'know, science-based stuff. It was worse. Bad magic.'
'But you're okay now?'
'Yeah, by the afternoon I was starting to come around.' He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. 'The only aftereffect is that I'm hungry all the time. Starving. Probably why I went on this cooking binge.'
'Could be worse, I suppose.'
'Yeah, but now I'm nervous about what happened. It doesn't feel totally gone, and I can't afford a relapse in the middle of a multiple-murder case. I won't have my leads handed over to archrivals and bumbling goofs.'
Holly nodded. Now everything was making more sense. 'So basically you want me to find out what sort of whammy, if any, this girl put on you, and whether it's over and done with.'
'In a nutshell. I remember thinking I wanted a day off, but hey, not like that.'
'Right.' Holly pondered a moment. 'It's true I might be able to detect something if you've got some sort of psychic flu.'
'How?'
'Um, different ways. The easiest is really pretty primitive. If she gave you something by kissing you, I could sense it the same way. By kissing you, I mean.' Holly couldn't hold his gaze. 'All in the interest of medical science, of course. Witches are generally immune, so there's no chance of passing it on.'
Macmillan looked both startled and pleased. 'Hey, this is like playing doctor the way it should be done.'
'Yeah, well, um, witch doctor, maybe.' Holly fought to look cool and professional, as if this were all in an average day's work. 'Let's just do it, okay?'
They both got up, as if pulled by the same string, and moved to the end of the table. Macmillan took her hand. 'No need to rush.'
Holly stopped, looking down where he clasped her palm in his. His fingers were strong and square-tipped, a practical man's hand. Slowly her gaze traveled up the expanse of his soft red sweater to his face.
At his touch Holly's body fell still, though her heart began to race with anticipation. Macmillan's fingers slid up her arm, the slow brush of flesh against flesh. It fanned the embers of her moment with Alessandro, rousing an appetite not yet sated. She turned in to his chest, wanting to feel more of him on more of her. His hand traveled over her shoulder and up her throat, coming to rest in the thick fall of her hair.
But it was just one kiss, and maybe it would serve as an antidote to forbidden desires of the vampire kind. An amiable lust danced in her blood. Macmillan—Mac—was warm and friendly, and his obvious interest made her feel desirable. It was liberating. No expectations, no future. No unrequited longing. He was just a good, plain, sexy man, easy on the heart.
Holly's fingers scrunched the thick knit of his sweater, the springy fabric full of the aromas of cooking and the clove aftershave he wore. She caught his earlobe in her teeth, thinking he was the most delicious, edible man she had ever met. His food obsession was taking over her thoughts.
Mac kissed her eyelids, his lashes flickering against tender skin. Holly raised her hand to his cheek, fingertips tracing the first shadow of roughness. Then her mouth found his, their lips hot and sweet with sugar.
Distraction shattered her thoughts. Strong and competent, Macmillan's hand quested downward, cupping her backside. Enough heat rose between them to threaten the synthetics in her little black dress.
She pressed against Mac's weight, enjoying the sheer physicality of their bodies in space. Whether or not the encounter had a future, its present was damn fine. Delicious languor radiated from her belly, making her lean in even as she broke the kiss. Their lips parted with a faint electric tingle.
'Wow,' she said, feeling suddenly shy.
If possible, Macmillan's eyes seemed even darker than before. There was a sheen of perspiration at his temples. He was feeling the heat as much as Holly was.
'What's the verdict?' he asked in a whisper.
Holly felt a sloppy grin cover her face. 'Oh, I think you're healthy. You shouldn't have any more problems.'
Relief widened his eyes. 'Hallelujah. Then go make yourself comfortable and I'll bring our coffee.' He gave her a sly grin. 'Maybe we can discuss a program of preventive health care.'
Holly gave a bemused smile, all logical thought having swooned away. She wandered into the living room, the air around her chill after the heat of their embrace. Her skin felt alive to the texture of the couch, the brush of her skirt against her thighs. Mac's embrace had held unexpected depths. It buzzed with the prospect of more. Holly felt like a skydiver at the brink of her jump.
But did she want to jump? Or did she want simply to walk away?
The sound of running water came from the kitchen, coffee on its way. What sort of a conversation would follow a kiss like that? What was Mac expecting? Holly leaned her head against the back of the couch, not sure what she wanted to happen. Even with all the spells she had at her disposal, she didn't have the gift of reading minds, especially her own.
The water sounds stopped. Coffee was getting closer and, with it, the need for decisions. Holly grabbed her handbag from where she'd left it by a chair, reapplied her lipstick, and waited.