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Authors: T.F. Walsh

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BOOK: Cloaked
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I admired her determination but also suspected her hatred of seeing the wolf pelt on the wall had altered her judgment. “After we spoke at the institute, I returned and searched the property thoroughly. I found nothing.”

Her head tilted back, one of her eyebrows arching. “I bet you have the same niggling doubt about him. Otherwise, why are you here?”

“Actually”—I shoved my hands into my pockets—“I'm here because of your concern.”

She fell silent, watching me.

“Where's your car?” I asked.

“I caught the bus.”

“Come, I'll give you a lift home, unless you have another place you're planning to trespass upon tonight?”

“I think I'm done for the night.” She smirked and climbed into my car.

“So, is there anything else I should know about you?” I buckled up.

She met my gaze and rewarded me with a mischievous smirk, the kind that said she indeed kept secrets and had no plans of divulging them.

I edged the car onto the road, and we rode in silence for a while.

Finally, she answered. “Hmm. You want to know about me? I like long walks through the forest. My favorite color is green like the pine trees in the Carpathian woods, and I can't seem to stop eating those round custard pastries sold at Tortured Torts Patisserie.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but I know what you mean. I'm at that same patisserie a couple of times a week.”

Daciana simply nodded. The expression on her face was the closest look I'd ever seen to drooling, minus the drool. If the patisserie were open at this hour, I'd swing past and buy her a basket full if it meant seeing her contagious smile curving her lips again.

“My street's coming up on the right,” she said. “Second apartment building.”

I parked at the curb outside the front door of a three-story building.

She turned to me. “Would you like to come up for coffee? I might have one or two of those custard pastries upstairs. Maybe we could chat about the case.”

Laughter weaved through my chest. “You're hoarding pastries? They wouldn't last at my place.”

Daciana unbuckled her seatbelt and eased the door open. When she did, a breeze rushed into the car, folding around me. “So, you coming?” She got out, shut the door, and rounded the front of the hood before leaping up onto the footpath.

The professional action would have been to wave my farewell and leave, not complicate the situation. Being honest with myself, I admitted I couldn't bring someone else into my life. With the divorce papers still not signed, the sting of the affair burned through my veins. So, I wasn't sure a one-night stand would benefit either Daciana or me.

Outside, she stood near the building's entrance and glanced my way over her shoulder. The streetlights highlighted her cute face. She had promised me pastries. Surely there was no harm in hearing her theories on the stolen bear cubs. Despite my head yelling to drive away, I climbed out of the car, locked it, and followed her into the apartment building. The idea of her making a move on me tossed around in my mind.

Three flights of steps later, we strolled down a dimly lit corridor to apartment 302. My sights were on the faded, brown wallpaper and anything else that might distract me from Daciana's firm ass painted in those tight, black pants. The word “ninja” came to mind, seeing her dressed in all black.

“Welcome to my home,” she announced.

The place was sparsely furnished, meaning she didn't have much money, or she'd recently moved there, or perhaps didn't have the time to decorate. There was a couch, table, and a TV cabinet used to hold her shoes. To my right, in what could have been a closet, was a tiny kitchen with large windows. Straight ahead lay a dark corridor probably heading to the bedroom.

“It isn't much, but it's my first place on my own.”

I stepped farther into the apartment and took a seat on the large sofa, sinking into the leather cushions. Fresh wildflowers sat inside a tall glass tumbler on the cabinet. I suspected she gathered them on her way home from one of her walks in the woods. Except, her sneakers appeared spotless.

“Where were you living before?” I asked.

Daciana hurried into the kitchen and retrieved a plate from the fridge, then switched on an old percolator. “In a tiny town up in the Carpathian Mountains with my family. I've been in Braşov a couple months and can't tell you how much I love the freedom.”

A small-town girl, hey? Another reason not to mess around with her—for all I knew, she might believe a kiss constituted an engagement. Okay, that might've been a bit overboard, but I'd heard that remote villages up in the mountains had all kinds of strange customs, and females were usually carefully guarded. Was that why she left home?

“So you know”—she reached into the cupboard and retrieved two cups—“I don't usually invite men to my apartment. Actually, I've never done that, but you're a cop, you know.” She shrugged in a casual way, as if not a problem in the world bothered her. “How do you like your coffee?”

“Black, no sugar.”

Okay, so maybe I'd misread the signals, and she only intended to chat.
Obviously. What else would a small-town girl want?

Daciana set a plate with two custard pastries in front of me, as promised, and my mouth watered. Hand on heart, these were the most delectable pies in the world.

With two filled cups on the table, she plunked down beside me, causing the cushions to bounce beneath us. She took her own mug and gulped the liquid while keeping her gaze fixed on me.

I picked up my cup.

“I'm convinced Sam is involved,” she said. “Maybe selling the cubs on the black market. I've read about how much money those people make.”

“Really?” I took a mouthful of the coffee and choked on it instantly. Sour lukewarm water coated my throat.

“Are you all right?” Daciana's eyes widened. “What's wrong?”

Swallowing fast, I wiped my lips and stuffed half the pastry into my mouth to erase the horrible taste.

“You don't like it?” She pulled the cup from my hand and sniffed it, worry marring her perfect brow. Maybe she didn't have coffee in her small town.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I prefer mine stronger.”

“Oh, let me make you another.”

“No.” I reached over and took her wrist as she rose. Because, in all truth, I couldn't handle another mouthful of dirt water. “I'm thrilled with the pastry.”

“Anyway, in response to your question … ” She sidled next to me and sat back down, and I released her arm. “This guy is hiding a secret; I sense it in my gut. I smelled the cubs' scent—it's ingrained in me from taking care of them. I'd know it anywhere.”

“It's a tanning store. They have all kinds of pelts there. You're probably picking that up. But we'll continue watching him. If he's hiding anything, I'll uncover it.”

Her gaze fell to her lap. “It's all my fault. I left my key under the bin, and someone saw me.” When she spoke, her voice dropped an octave.

Shit
. I shuffled closer and took her hand. “You couldn't have known.” My next words jammed in my throat at the reminder of guilt. Maybe if I'd spent more time with Michaela, she never would have been tempted by Anton.

Daciana's voice lured me from my thoughts. “There's no other way to look at it. If I hadn't left the key out, the cubs might still be safe in the institute.”

A strand of hair caught on her eyelashes. Plucking it free, I cupped the side of her face and said, “If someone had their mind set on stealing those cubs, they would have broken in another way. Whoever was responsible obviously already knew about the cubs' whereabouts. Why else would they have watched you leave the key?”

First thing in the morning, I'd ask Anton to interview everyone at the institute about who they'd spoken to regarding the cubs.

Daciana leaned against my hand, the touch of her warmth rising up my arm. My thoughts vanished, replaced by the overwhelming heat pulsing through my veins. Her gaze was locked on my lips. Every part of me buzzed.

Kiss her.

I couldn't bring myself to do it. What could I offer her? A guy who'd had his soul crushed and had no clue where to start again. It was not fair to Daciana to dump my troubles on her. Against every craving coursing inside me, every image in my head of what I'd love to do to her, I pulled my hand back, deciding this was my time to exit.

“I should go.” Climbing to my feet, I brushed a hand down my pants.

“Oh.” The way her fingers touched her parted lips as she turned away pierced my heart. Maybe another place, another time.

“Of course.” Up on her feet, she rushed to the door and opened it. “Thanks for the lift home.” Her cheeks turned pink.

If I didn't leave now, I knew I'd end up in her bed. I couldn't seem to keep my head straight around Daciana. So distance was the answer.

“Thanks for the pastry.” I smiled and walked into the hallway.

An awkward silence hung between us as we stood there.
Say something, offer to take her out for a real coffee … A pastry.

“All right then,” she said. “See you around.” She handled the situation I couldn't with a quick wave as she shut the door.

Regret pinched down my spine. This girl had my pulse thumping as if I were back in high school. Except I was a grown man now. And an inspector at the Braşov precinct. Not some love-struck boy.

CHAPTER FIVE

DACIANA

“Daciana. Come to reception.” Alexandria's words raced with urgency. “There's something here for you.” She hung up.

I put the phone down and pushed away from the desk. Straightening my skirt as I approached the doorway, I watched Vasile walk toward me. He wasn't moving out of my way.

“Did you tell the police everyone you spoke to about the cubs?” Vasile asked in a whispered tone.

“I haven't told a soul.” Part of the reason was that I had only one friend in the city so far, my neighbor and morning running buddy, Catalina. I'd left her a message about not being able to run that day.

“I see.” He shook his head. “I had no choice but to give the police the name of my friend to whom I bragged about the cubs. Now he's being questioned, and I regret putting him under the authorities' microscope. I'd be horrified if someone did that to me.” Sorrow burrowed behind his gaze.

“I'm sure it's okay. He's not in trouble. He'll probably just answer a few questions,” I assured him.

He shook his head. “I really hope they find the cubs alive. This whole thing has put me in an awkward situation. I'd hate to lose you. But if your actions, even unknowingly, aided the abductors, well, I can't overlook it. I'd have to let you go.”

“I'll do whatever is needed to help the police.” And I meant every word, including snooping further at the tanning store tonight. The last two nights I had gone past but spotted Connell's Audi.

That night he came up to my apartment, he'd sent out mixed signals. Holding my hand, cupping my face. I had sensed his escalated pulse, his rapid breathing. So why had he pulled away? Surely it couldn't be my cup of coffee.

Vasile retreated and walked toward his office. I followed him, but turned right into the reception area, my insides a mess from the idea of losing my job and Connell rejecting me. Maybe living in the city wasn't for me. If I couldn't even hold down a job or keep one guy interested, what was I doing wrong?

My gaze fastened on a massive floral arrangement in a basket on the reception desk. At least two dozen red and white roses were set off by palm-like green leaves.

“They're for you, Daciana,” Alexandria said. “Whoever sent them must be serious.”

I closed in on the jaw-dropping bouquet too huge for me to lock my arms around and inhaled its floral fragrance. Amid the long stems, I spotted a white envelope and plucked it out. Was this Connell's apology for the other night? My insides fluttered.

Inside, it simply said, “Nothing compares to your beauty. Anton.”

What?
My earlier excitement fizzled. The sleazy guy sent me flowers. Wonderful. Was the right etiquette to send them back with a polite note, or—

The front door opened, breaking my concentration. Connell strolled in, all broad-shouldered, hair tucked behind his ears, and dressed in black pants and a tight, white shirt that molded to his body. Goddess, he was handsome … More than handsome. Swoon-worthy. And my knees wobbled at the sight.

“Nice flowers,” he said, staring at the card in my hands.

“Who are they from?” Alexandria asked, sniffing the roses from behind the reception desk.

Connell being at my place a couple nights ago swirled through my mind. He'd rushed out of there without even a kiss. Of course, I probably shouldn't be chasing a policeman who was only helping us with the cubs.

Licking my lips, I said, “They're from Anton. The inspector helping us on the case.” I hoped my voice when I said the sleazy guy's name didn't convey my loathing.

My gaze cut to Connell. I spotted the way the bridge of his nose pinched. Was it jealousy? It was madness, but seeing him react to the roses confirmed he did have some feelings for me. Otherwise, why react, right? Sandulf would tell me not to encourage any humans. But even if Sandulf and the rest of the pack spoke of them as if they were aliens, I disagreed. And Connell was anything but foreign to me.

He approached Alexandria. “I'm here to see Vasile.”

“He's waiting for you in his office. I'll take you there.”

The pair left, and Connell didn't say another word or look my way.
Shit
. I sucked in a quick breath and stared down the corridor. Connell had vanished.

Right, right then, I regretted not openly admitting I didn't want the flowers from Anton. What was wrong with me? Now Connell would think I was into Anton, and he'd definitely keep his distance now. And I sure as hell didn't care for Anton.

BOOK: Cloaked
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