Seemed some things never changed.
“So, Mace, I get off work in a couple more hours.”
He shook his head. “Baby, I can’t wait that long. Let’s go bang this out in my sister’s office. You know. To take the edge off.” Dez wrestled the part of her that wanted to take Mace up on that particular offer and kept the game going instead.
“That is sooo romantic, Mace. I never knew you were so romantic.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet. Besides, Missy’s desk is a nice, sturdy mahogany. We could go at it like wolves on that thing, and it wouldn’t budge.”
Ah, the Mace she remembered. The smart-ass kid who tortured people on a daily basis for his own amusement, and his sister was no exception. Actually, Dez knew he went out of his way to torture his sister and that he enjoyed every minute of it.
Yup. Her day just kept getting better and better.
Could his day get any better? The woman of his dreams cuddled up in his arms and his sister in an almost violent rage. A few more minutes of this and he would start purring and not stop.
“Mason,” his sister spit that out between clenched teeth. “I need to speak with you. In private.”
Mace watched her. He wondered how long before she snapped.
“Now!”
Well that took all of ten seconds.
He watched her rigid back stalk into her office.
“Ooh, Mace. You’re in tru-ble,” Dez whispered in a singsong voice.
He pulled her closer to him. He couldn’t help himself. Did she have any idea exactly how tasty she was?
Another cop came to stand beside them. He glared at Mace, but Mace ignored him. He wouldn’t let anything distract him from the woman in his arms.
“We’re out of here.”
“What? Why?”
“Got a call from the lieutenant. They’re pulling us. I’ve been informed we have enough information for this investigation and we are not to harass Ms. Llewellyn any longer. And would you two stop whatever you’re doing?”
“Hey, B! You’re harshin’ my buzz.”
With an annoyed groan, the man turned away from them. Dez looked at Mace over her shoulder. “Mr. Llewellyn, I do believe your sister made a call.”
“I believe you’re right, Detective.” His sister had a lot of political connections and was not shy about using them whenever it served her.
“Too bad. I had such plans of torture for her. And they all involved her desk.” Smiling, Dez turned, reached up, and kissed Mace on the cheek. He’d had many women do much more intense things to him over the years, but none of it felt as good as that simple kiss. “It was really good seeing you again, Mace.”
She pulled away from him and he grudgingly let her go.
“And I’m glad you’re doing okay. Although I never doubted you’d do any less.” She motioned to her partner. “Let’s get out of here, B.”
The male left. Dez followed behind, but Mace stopped her with one word. “Wait.”
Dez looked at him, curious why he wanted her to wait. Actually, she found herself curious about a lot of things when it came to Mace.
“Go out with me tonight. Dinner.”
She laughed at what was clearly an order as opposed to a request. “No.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t even remember my name, Mason Llewellyn.” He hadn’t said her name even once in the last ten minutes. It hurt to think he’d so easily forgotten about her, but when you looked like Mace now did, how could you remember all the women? Especially one who you hadn’t actually slept with.
Dez turned and headed down the hallway.
“Desiree.” She froze as his low voice slid across her skin. “Patricia. Marie. MacDermot. Dez for short.”
Dez spun around, her mouth open in awe. “How the hell did you remember all that?” He even included her confirmation name. No one knew her confirmation name except the parish priest, and that’s because he really didn’t like her much.
“I remember everything about you, Dez. Absolutely everything.”
Her breath caught on a sigh. Her heart began to beat faster. And she suddenly wondered if Mace could feel her blood racing through her veins.
After a few moments, she shook herself. “You’re still doing it, Mace.” The bastard.
“Doing what?”
She grinned and glared at him all at the same time. “Torturing me.”
He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossing in front of him. He took all of her in. From those cute little feet, past those magnificent breasts, straight to those gray eyes and auburn hair. “Baby, I haven’t even started.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After another moment, “I’m outta here, Mace.”
This was not how his fantasy went. She kept turning him down. Didn’t she know? “Yes” to dinner today. “Yes” to marriage tomorrow. Dammit, he had a schedule to keep. A schedule that involved getting her sweet ass into bed as fast as humanly possible.
“When will I see you again?”
She walked off down the hall. “For your sister’s sake, you better hope never.”
Then she was gone. But this wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
Dez got in the passenger side of the car, leaning her head back against the seat and staring up at the roof of the Chevrolet.
“Don’t do it, Dez.”
She glanced at her partner of four years. “Don’t do what?”
“Get all bunged up over this guy. He’s rich. He’s a Llewellyn. And he can have any piece of ass he wants in this town.”
“I’m a piece of ass.” Dez grinned. “That guy from last week, who believes aliens were talking to him and that’s why he tried to set his neighbor on fire, said I was fabulous.”
Bukowski, chuckling, started the car. “And he was right, even though he wasn’t the healthiest man we’ve ever arrested. But a guy like Llewellyn would never realize it. So don’t waste your time.”
“I know. I know. A girl can fantasize, though.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He pulled out into traffic and headed back to the precinct.
Mace Llewellyn. Back in New York and looking tastier than anything she’d ever seen before. Who knew he’d turn out like that? She’d always thought of him as adorable back in the day. The cute boy who sat next to her in science class, making her laugh by mocking everyone around them while trying not to stare at her breasts. He’d been brutal, witty, and her biggest crush ever. Now, however, well…now the man was a god. He had to be at least six foot four and well over two hundred pounds, without a single ounce of fat on him.
Initially, she’d been unimpressed with the males she caught glimpses of while waiting around for Missy. Too pretty. Too glossy. Too…clean. They wore Armani suits and seven-hundred-dollar watches. They were all blond. No, not blond. Gold. Seriously gold. Their skin. Their eyes. Their hair. It was hard to believe these people lived in New York. Her New York. Where you found every shade, every hue, every color under the freakin’ rainbow.
As far as Dez was concerned, her family represented true New York culture. Her father a good Irish boy from Hell’s Kitchen. Her mother a sweet Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Together those two people created one brown-skinned daughter who looked like she just arrived off the boat from Cataño. Another redheaded daughter with pale skin who looked like she should be on Broadway in Riverdance.