Heat: An Alpha Male Criminal Romance (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 1) (21 page)

I have and I actually approve. Oh, I want to argue the point about the women selling their bodies. Really, though, should I be making moral or legal judgments about these women? The rare prostitutes I dealt with in Sunnyslope were after their next fix. I never had one tell me they were trying to get through college or enjoy the finer things in life. Not that I think these are good excuses, but prostitution is one of those gray areas for me and Moon pointed out all the reasons why. I’ve always had a problem with the legal aspect of what I can do with own body if I hurt no one else. As a cop, it was my job to enforce laws and it didn’t matter if I agreed with those laws or not. I did my job. That doesn’t mean I didn’t give thought to my personal classification of right and wrong.

We finish our sandwiches in a comfortable silence. We’re sitting in the kitchen alcove again. Moon turns to me after depositing our plates and glassware in the dishwasher. I follow him with our glasses. He hooks an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close so my nose is at his throat and he can thread his fingers through my hair. His tone is husky when he speaks and I go all shivery. “Gabriella is cooking a special dinner for us. I would like to eat in the large dining room and ply you with Champagne.” His other hand is splayed over the straps of my sundress that crisscross at my back. I like how warm he feels against my cool flesh.

“Are you asking me on a date to your dining room this evening?” I tease.

His arms tighten the slightest bit and his voice loses its husky quality. “A date is where I take you outside of the house to a romantic location for dinner and you don’t have a problem being seen with me.”

I’ve put my foot in my mouth without realizing it. I continue inhaling his delicious scent, refusing to back down. “I think we’ll agree to disagree on the definition of a date.”

He moves his head back so he can look in my eyes. His have shifted to a much darker blue, and the sensual quality returns to his voice. “I plan on changing your mind about that definition, Miss Kinlock.” His head dips and his mouth moves over mine. I understand Moon’s kissing technique now. He likes to nibble before deepening a kiss. He also likes to leave me wanting more. He pulls back after a few gentle nips and his thumb runs down my cheek to my throat.

“What you’re wearing is perfect for tonight’s dinner. It’s sexy,” he whispers.

I want to be sexy for Moon.

I want to see what the night brings even more.

Chapter Twenty-Two

GABRIELLA ENTERS THE KITCHEN
a few minutes after Moon leaves. I’m still standing beside the sink daydreaming about the kiss. She clucks her tongue when she sees that the dishes have been put away.

She avoids my eyes as her gaze travels around the kitchen. “Thank you, Gabriella, for what you did today.”

She turns and her expression isn’t nearly as tight-lipped as usual. “The Señora is poison.”

I agree with her but don’t say so. I change the subject after a conciliatory smile. “Moon told me you’re cooking a special dinner tonight.” Her eyes go back to the hard look I’m accustomed to. I hold up my hand. “No, I have no intention of asking to help. I truthfully can’t cook to save my life.” She expels a breath and I continue. “I need to borrow some basic makeup and a curling iron and hoped you could help me.”

Pity shows in her expression. She doesn’t think there’s much to be done about the bruises on my face. I would agree if she said as much. She opens a drawer, removes a pad and pencil, and then places them on the countertop. “If you write down what you need, I will have the items purchased for you.” Her accent is strong, but her English is flawless. She’s a very cunning lady.

“I’m sorry. I only have a debit card. No cash.” It’s frustrating to be stranded without money.

She laughs and I’m relieved until she adds, “Señor Moon will cover the expenses. You are his guest and he told me to see that you have what you need.”

Oh he did, did he? “I would prefer he not pay for what I need.”

She throws her hands up and blasts me with several sentences in Spanish. She ends in English with, “Make your list and remove yourself from my kitchen.”

I’m fairly certain I didn’t win this argument. I give her a sheepish grin. “Thank you for choosing the clothes in Moon’s closet, Gabriella. They’re perfect.” Maybe this will pacify her.

Again her hands go up. “The señor used the Internet to order the clothes and one of his men picked them up. I helped only with the size. Men cannot properly size a woman. When they try, the clothes are too tight because they only think with
el pene
.”

I don’t know Spanish, but I can easily translate
el pene
. I clamp my top teeth on my lower lip to fight laughter. I leave a short list of what I absolutely need and allow my laughter to escape when I’m out of the kitchen. I haven’t run into anyone else in the house and decide to kill some time and explore. That’s code for being nosy. On the left side of the entrance to the kitchen is another hallway. I walk to a door at the end of the hall and it opens before I place my hand on the knob.

It’s one of my four original thugs from the parking garage. He’s big, though not as large as Moon or Gomez. He’s Caucasian. I didn’t take the opportunity to check him out in the garage. At the time, I was more focused on their guns.

“May I help you, Miss Kinlock?” He doesn’t appear happy about my snooping. I can see another man sitting at a computer console with enough security screens to give the White House a run for its money.

“Um, no, thank you. I was just learning my way around.”

He looks over his shoulder and I wonder if he rolls his eyes. He looks back at me with no expression on his face. It’s slightly disconcerting. “I would be happy to show you the estate, Miss Kinlock.”

I bet he would like just the opposite. I decide not to torture him with guided tour duty.

“No, thank you,” I say as I step back. Of course Moon would have security. It’s stupid that I hadn’t thought of it. I’m also very aware that I humped Moon’s leg and probably gave his guards a nice show. I might need to kill Moon for that. I’ll decide at dinner. Right now, I just want to get out of here. I turn and go back to the stairs at the front of the house. I glance up and look for cameras. It doesn’t matter that I don’t see any; I’m aware of them now.

I climb the stairs and can’t resist pushing on a door that’s partially open—cameras or no. It’s directly across the hall when I reach the landing. I’m excited to find that it’s a library with books lining tall oak shelves. There are two comfortable reading chairs and behind them a large business desk. I wonder if this is Moon’s office. Snooping in different rooms is one thing. Going through his desk quite another, and I won’t do it. I’ll forget that Moon told me to treat his home as my own. Instead, I search the shelves and read titles. It’s barely after twelve and I need to kill some time. I should have asked Mr. Thug where Moon’s gym is. He must have one here on the grounds. A book is the second best I can do. They’re in several languages, which doesn’t surprise me. Moon isn’t your average uneducated thug. I discover an English translation of
One Hundred Years of Solitude
by Gabriel García Márquez. It’s been on my to-read list for years. I decide to try it.

I head back to Moon’s bedroom, remove the sundress and swimsuit, and put on shorts and a tee after a quick, refreshing shower. There are two comfortable chairs in the corner of the room and I curl up in one and begin to read. I fall asleep while José Arcadio Buendía dreams of Macondo.

A soft whisper startles me awake. “Señorita?”

My head is fuzzy. “Gabriella, I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” I say.

“The world has not stopped and you need sleep to heal. I have brought the requested items and thought you might want a fancy dress for the evening. Señor Moon did not order anything for you to wear for a romantic dinner. I took the liberty.”

Two medium-sized bags are lying on the foot of the bed along with a full-length garment bag. I don’t even know what to say. I mumble, “Thank you,” but I know it isn’t nearly enough. I stand up, walk to the bed, and lift the bag. I slowly lower the zipper and unleash gauzy, deep red material. On closer examination, the dress has a halter-style neckline. Attached to the hanger is a black halter bra, which will work with my full breasts. A slit in the side of the dress goes practically to the waist.

Oh, my. I turn to Gabriella and catch a twinkle in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful and indecent,” I tell her.

She smiles and answers in Spanish. I try to look as if I understand. She eventually translates part of what she said. “El Señor needs spice in his life.”

Hell, this dress is spicy all right. “Thank you,” I tell her again.

“Please use the house phone if you need assistance. I must check dinner.”

Gabriella leaves the room and I click my cell phone for the time and see that it’s a little after five. I need another shower. I want to be ready before Moon arrives and that could be at any time. Thirty minutes later, my hair is in a towel because I have nothing to tie it up with, and I’m trying to figure out how to go about applying the makeup. The house phone rings and I take a break from the mirror to answer it.

“Señorita, El Señor will be home in thirty minutes. Would you care to prepare yourself in another room?”

I have no idea how I got on this woman’s good side. “Yes, thank you, Gabriella. I’m afraid repairing my face isn’t as easy as I hoped.”

“I will be up in one moment, sí?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I unplug the curling iron and collect the makeup. It’s much more than I asked for, and the brand is something you would purchase from an upscale department store. I’ve never worn much in the way of makeup, so I’m not even sure what to do with most of it.

Gabriella knocks at the door and enters with a young woman possibly in her late teens or early twenties behind her. “My niece, Guadalupe, will attend you.” Gabriella speaks to Guadalupe in Spanish and they both pick up a bag while I grab the dress. I’m in one of Moon’s bathrobes wearing the halter bra and a thong that was hidden by the bra. I almost overlooked the string thing. There will be no lines in the dress, but it’s as if I’m wearing nothing in the way of panties at all. There is no doubt that Gabriella wishes me to seduce her employer, and I’m not sure why. Or, why she would think that hadn’t happened yet. We
have
been sleeping in the same bed.

She leads us down the hall and enters the room where I stayed the first time I was here. There’s a small suitcase open on the bed. Gabriella immediately rumbles off Spanish to Guadalupe and gives me a nod before she leaves us alone.

Guadalupe walks over and closes the bedroom door behind her aunt. She’s a pretty girl with large, expressive brown eyes. “Please call me Lupe and forgive my aunt for forcing me upon you.” She smiles and relief slides through me. I don’t think I could handle another bitchy woman today.

I return her smile. “I’m hoping you know what to do with all the makeup your aunt bought me. I’m at a complete loss.”

“I’m a cosmetology student and will work a miracle on your face.” She looks stricken for a moment. “No offense. My aunt explained that you were in a car accident.”

I laugh and wave her apology away. “If you can make the bruises fade somewhat, I’d be forever grateful.”

She’s no-nonsense after that and has me wash off the makeup I’ve already applied. Her case, which was open on the bed, holds everything she needs to do her job. After she has turned on all the lights in the room, she has me sit on the bed. My transformation begins. She holds a small white painter’s palette and mixes several shades of white, making a white foundation that she applies over the bruises. I’m glad I can’t see what it looks like because the color is as light as the palette. She next adds different shades of beiges and browns with the end result being closer to my skin tone.

She chats the entire time. “I’m on summer break. My father lives in Tucson and I always visit my aunt when I’m out of school. I attend AOFM Makeup Academy in New York. Part of next year I will apprentice in London. I plan to work for a Hollywood studio someday…” and on and on she goes. I enjoy listening to someone who is carefree and hasn’t been hit by the realities of life.

It takes her all of twenty minutes.

“Now your hair.” She picks up the ends and moves my hair to the left and right. “I would like to curl it, though leave it long. Men love long hair, so we won’t pull it into an up-do. Someday, though, you need to allow me to give you an up-do. You will look fabulous.”