Pull Of The Moon. Sylvie Kurtz
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Название: Pull Of The Moon

Автор: Sylvie Kurtz

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Зарубежные детективы

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СКАЧАТЬ in the bathroom. What if you hadn’t come by?”

      “You made enough racket. Someone would’ve heard you eventually.”

      “That’s not the point—”

      “I’ll handle the matter.”

      She stuffed the doorstop in the kerchief pocket of his suit and gave it a pat. “Fine. See that it doesn’t happen again.” She didn’t really have a choice other than to let him “handle the matter.” She wasn’t here to investigate the staff’s juvenile intimidation tactics. She was here to conduct interviews. “How is Ms. Meadows?”

      His eyes softened for a second. “Just a cold. She’ll be fine.”

      But something in his expression told her he was more worried than a simple cold would warrant. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then. When she’s feeling better.”

      “That would be best.”

      Valerie buttoned her blazer, adding an extra buffer between them. “The photograph? From the agenda? Why does Ms. Meadows have it?”

      A muscle in his jaw jumped. “It’s an age progression. She has one done every year on Valentina’s birthday.”

      Valerie’s heart went out to Rita. Had she had the photo done as a way to watch her baby grow? No, Valerie decided. So she’d know what Valentina would look like if she saw her on the street somewhere. Maybe airing the segment would provide Rita with the resolution she needed.

      “It, uh, looks like me.” The resemblance was uncanny and the memory of that likeness sent a shiver prickling over her scalp. Had Rita thought that Valerie was her daughter? Was that why she’d asked the personal questions? Although what height had to do with anything was a puzzle.

      Nick’s gaze hardened and bored into her with a warning that seemed to aim straight at her heart. His voice rode a flat line that reverberated with threat. “But it isn’t you, Val. Something you’d best remember. Valentina is dead. I have proof. There won’t be a fat payday. Not if I can help it.”

      Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Is that why you’re being such a jerk? You think I think I’m Valentina? That’s ridiculous.”

      “What’ll it take to make you disappear?”

      “What?”

      He whipped out a checkbook from the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. “How much?”

      One hand covered her heart. “You can’t be serious. You think I want money?”

      He stepped closer until his breath was a warm flutter against her lips. “That’s all they want in the end.”

      Her mind was blurring again. No, Nick, no. You know that’s not true. “They?”

      “All the other girls over the years who’ve come knocking at the door pretending they’re the long-lost Valentina. ” He lifted a strand of her hair, rolled it between his fingers, then tucked it behind her ear. She leaned into his hand as if she’d done this very thing before. As if he had. Jeez, Louise, she really needed some food before she went totally over the edge.

      His thumb skimmed the outline of her cheek in a way that let her know that he could kill her just as easily as kiss her. Wow, where had that come from? As if she’d ever want a kiss from someone who thought she was using her job to extort money.

      “I’m not like all those girls. I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met.” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She searched the hard planes of Nick’s face, looking for…what? An explanation as to why she thought he would know her? Even stranger, that she should know him? That if she could just squeeze the right place on his waist, he would double over in helpless laughter?

      He flattened a hand on the door frame beside her face, caging her against the wall. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve met a hundred girls like you. They’ve all convinced themselves they’re the one.”

      A restless menace lurked right beneath the suit. But as much as he growled and barked and bared his teeth, he would never hurt her. The truth of that knowledge resonated soul deep. Which didn’t mean she wanted to test that theory quite yet.

      She planted a palm against his chest and pushed him away. “I have a mother and a good life in Florida. I don’t need to borrow anybody else’s. So chill, okay? You said Valentina was dead. That you had proof? What kind?”

      “That’s really none of your concern.”

      “Well, see, that’s where I don’t agree. Everything that concerns Valentina concerns me.”

      “And you think I’m just going to hand you ammunition?”

      She tipped her head and squinted at him. “To fleece Ms. Meadows? No. To help me put on the best segment I can? Yes. If you have proof that Valentina is dead, then it means I need to take a different angle with the interviews.”

      He refused to yield. “Knowing Valentina is dead doesn’t stop the crazies from showing up for a handout. The body was never found. Until it is, they prey on Ms. Meadows’s hopes.”

      She sighed. “I can see your point, but what if she isn’t dead?” As if drawn by a black hole, all she could do was look deep into the impenetrable dark brown of his eyes. Let me in, Nick. Let me see. That he was shutting her out hurt in a way that was beyond crazy. So was the compelling childish urge to pat his cheek and tell him that everything was going to be okay. “What if she is alive?”

      “She isn’t.” End of conversation, his tone said. But something flickered in his eyes, leaving her with the impression he was lying. Or at least not telling her the whole truth.

      A door slammed somewhere down the hall, startling Valerie out of her strange connection with Nick. Never before had she been so aware of someone. The give-and-take of his breath. The galloping pulse of blood at his neck. The prickly hint of beard along his tense jawline. And that sadness, that heavy sadness that was eating at his soul and made her want to cry.

      “It’s time for you to leave now.” Nick straightened, yawning a canyon of space between them, and Valerie ran her hands over her arms to keep warm.

      Heavy boots tromped on the floor, heading their way. A stout man with a white lion’s mane poking out from a well-worn khaki fishing hat stepped into the hall. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Took me a while, but I’ve got the gentleman under control like you asked. He’s in the car with the doors locked.” He grinned, showing off square, white teeth. “Chomp is watching over him. He won’t go anywhere he ain’t supposed to go.”

      “Thanks, Lionel.”

      “My pleasure.” Lionel doffed his fishing hat and swept it in front of him, showing Valerie the way to the front door. “I’ll escort you out now, ma’am. Chomp, he don’t take too kindly to strangers.”

      She pointed toward the library. “My things.”

      Nick nodded his permission, and she held her breath until she reached the library. She shook her head as if the simple gesture could release her from the grip of Nick’s presence still clinging to her skin. The way he’d short-cir-cuited her usually ordered thinking wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ