Sleeping with Anemone

Marco glanced at the clock. “Five o’clock? Damn. I haven’t been down to the bar yet.”

Reilly came back on the line, so Marco turned away to talk to him while I cleaned up the worktable. As I brushed bits of leaves and blossoms into the plastic-lined trash can, I started thinking back over the times my mom’s brooches had turned up missing. The first theft happened after I appeared on our local cable TV news station. Was that a coincidence or, as Marco mentioned, had someone with a reason to care spotted the anthurium on my hat? Was it possible Dwayne Hudge was working for a jewelry thief?

Marco ended his call and got up. “Reilly said no viable fingerprints were collected when Bloomers was trashed, and right now they don’t have any leads.”

“You mentioned that someone might have spotted me wearing the brooch. What if Hudge and Charlotte were hired to get it back?”

Marco’s eyebrows pulled together. “I guess it would explain the theft of the brooches, although I still think Jillian should be a suspect.”

“It would also explain why Jillian’s beret was snatched.”

“But it doesn’t explain why they kidnapped Tara. She wasn’t wearing a beret.”

“We were dressed alike. Maybe they were planning to hold me until I gave up the brooch.”

“That would be risky.”

“They were bunglers, Marco. And I just remembered something else. When Jillian was nabbed, she said the kidnapper told her to give it up. Do you remember that? The brooch has to be what they were after.”

“We could speculate all evening, and I wish I had time for that, but Reilly is sending officers to take the report and dust for prints, so while they’re here, I’ve got to run down to the bar to check on things and get my accounting done, or there won’t be any paychecks to hand out this week. I’ll be back afterward to take you home, pick up Rafe, and drop him at your place so I can squeeze in a couple of hours of work at the bar before I start on my PI case.”

I was exhausted just thinking about all he had to do. Poor Marco, dealing with stolen brooches, kidnapping attempts, wayward younger brothers, his bar, my crazy family, and me, in addition to his private investigator work. He really was my hero.

But we absolutely did have to discuss the issue about our conflicting work hours. Soon.

As he stood there in his fitted shirt, tight jeans, and worn boots, his dark hair curling around his ears, a five- o’clock shadow on his handsome face, I couldn’t resist slipping my arms around his waist. “You go to a lot of trouble for me, Salvare.”

That was all it took to get his juices flowing. His eyes darkened in that seductive way of his and one corner of his mouth quirked. “You know what I always say about pay-backs.” Then he dipped his head down for a deep, smoldering kiss-that was interrupted a moment later by a sharp rap on the front door.

Marco gave me one more quick kiss, then strode through the curtain to let in the cops.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

By six o’clock that evening, I was at home, dead bolt and chain in place, just finishing the last bite of a turkey sandwich, when two handsome Salvare men showed up at my door, one a younger, slightly thinner version of the other.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” Rafe said, sauntering into my apartment, “your bodyguards are here.” He winked at me. “Looking good, as always.”

“Thank you, Rafe,” I said, rolling my eyes at Marco. Rafe was a shameless flirt.

“Hey,” Marco called to him from the doorway. “Remember what I told you.”

“No prob, bro.” Rafe continued into the living room and turned on the TV, putting himself out of sight and earshot.

“Did the cops find any prints?” Marco asked me.

“Nothing useful. Just smudges, probably most of them mine, Lottie’s, and Grace’s. How the thief was able to scoop up a dozen brooches without us hearing anything still alarms me.”

“Have you told your mom yet?”

“I did, and of course Mom took it as a sign that she should make more. She wants us to lock her next batch in the glass case where we keep the crystal figurines. She said she’s going to call the pawnshops in the area to let them know to watch for her brooches.”

“At least she wasn’t upset.” Marco drew me against him. “I’ve got to get going.”

“I wish you didn’t have to work these late evening hours, Marco.”

“Sometimes it can’t be helped. I don’t plan to do it forever.”

“Can we kiss on that?”

With a little grin playing at one corner of his mouth, Marco tilted his head, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that got hotter by the second.

“Sure you can’t stay?” I murmured dreamily, as he nibbled his way along my jaw.

He pressed his lips in the hollow behind my ear, a spot he’d discovered made me go weak in the knees. “I wish.” Then he tilted my chin so he could gaze into my eyes.

“Are you going to lecture me now?” I asked, still in my stuporous state.

“Yes, so pay attention.”

“You can be bossy at times.”

“Don’t let Rafe talk you into leaving the apartment. I told him he’s your bodyguard tonight, and your safety is in his hands until I get back. Got it?”

“Word for word.” I leaned into him for another kiss and Marco happily complied. Then he tilted my chin up again.

“Don’t wait up for me. It’ll be late by the time I pick Rafe up and drop him off at home again.”

“Okay.” Or maybe I would wait up and surprise him.

We shared one more long kiss; then he had to go. “Remember what I told you,” he called as he started down the hallway.

“And you remember that a closed bathroom door means you have to knock before entering.”

He gave me a thumbs-up. Then I shut the door, slid the chain into place, and headed for the living room. Time to put my plan into action.

Rafe was sprawled on the sofa, watching TV. I blocked his view. “Do you really want to watch a basketball game all evening or would you rather take a field trip with me?”

Rafe swung his legs to the floor. “A leaving-the-apartment type of field trip?”

“I need to pay a visit to Nikki at the hospital.”

“She’s sick?”

“No, on duty. Nikki works there. I need some information from her.”

“Whoa. Back up, Freckles. Marco gave me strict instructions to stay here with you. He’ll kill me if I let you leave.”

I sat down beside him. “That’s not what I heard Marco say. He told me you were going to be my bodyguard this evening.”

Rafe looked confused. “So?”

“So he didn’t say you were going to be my babysitter.

There’s an important difference. Sitters watch their charges in a home. Bodyguards protect their charges everywhere. Do you see what I mean?”

“Well, yeah, except he said not to leave here.”

Rafe was such a babe in the woods. “Marco’s exact words to me were ‘Don’t let him talk you into leaving the apartment,’ which you’re not. Again, an important difference.”

A light went on in Rafe’s head. He hopped off the sofa with a devilish grin. “I’m ready when you are.”