The Secret Millionaire. Ryanne Corey

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СКАЧАТЬ officially closed. If you want your puffy tissues, you’d better get a move on before they close the registers.”

      Zack’s headache was getting worse and he’d left his patience behind in California. “Well, you’re not closing promptly at ten tonight, bud. You know why? Because I want to walk around and make sure I get everything I need. I’m coming down with something, you know. I want to be prepared.”

      The clerk glowered at him through his wire-rimmed glasses. “So tell me what you need and I’ll help you find it…fast.”

      “That’s the trouble, you know? You never know what you’re forgetting till it’s too late. I’ll just mosey around and see what catches my eye. Maybe a hot-water bottle. Or maybe some herbal tea. And some vitamin C, my mom always said it was good for…my mom always said…holy smoke!”

      Something—actually, someone—had caught his eye in a death grip. A woman breezed around the corner in a rush, obviously trying to beat the clock. She was tall, willowy, exotic-looking. Her waist-length hair whipped behind her in a multicolored curtain of honey-brown, ivory and dark gold. Her full-length black leather coat swung open, revealing a cream-colored sweater shot through with white sequins. Her jeans were black, her sexy, high-heeled leather boots a startling shade of cranberry red. Zack liked a woman who wore leather. Unfortunately, those very sexy boots were a poor choice for recently mopped linoleum.

      Zack gleefully realized he was going to be called on to be heroic. He loved to be heroic. Everything happened at once. Her left boot started to skid. Her eyes met his, wide, startled and helpless. Those eyes were the clearest, brightest, most unusual shade of crystalline blue he had ever seen, fringed with outrageously long lashes. The light-diffused, shimmering color was a heart-stopping contrast to the rich summer tan gilding her flawless skin. Zack had to mentally slap himself to switch to hero mode, dropping his medical supplies and happily holding out his arms to catch the fragrant, feminine bundle that toppled into them.

      She was a bit heavier than she looked, but he managed. For a wonderful moment he had her full weight, holding her high enough that her heels kicked above the slippery floor. He enjoyed it immensely.

      “This is a really nice store,” he commented, winking at the startled clerk. Suddenly the kid wasn’t bothering him so much.

      The young woman in his arms rolled her eyes, one of her heels connecting painfully with his shin. “Oh, dear,” she said innocently when he winced. “I’m terribly sorry. If you don’t mind, it would be best if you put me down before I accidentally kick you again.”

      “I do mind,” Zack sighed. He could only hold her in the protective arms of the law for so long. “But I will put you down, because you asked politely and you’re wearing very sharp heels. Feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

      Reluctantly he relinquished his hold. Her boots hit the ground walking. Just like that. He’d been dismissed.

      “What?” Zack asked the back of her leather coat. “No thanks? No introduction? No love at first sight?”

      She looked over her shoulder, fluttering her long lashes at him. He swore he could feel a breeze. “You’re sort of cute, but I’m afraid you’re a little cocky. Thanks for your help. Goodbye.”

      “Shot down,” the clerk said, watching her round the corner and disappear.

      Zack sighed, nodding sadly. “In flames.”

      “I’ve never seen her in here before,” the clerk went on in a slightly dazed tone, no longer quite so upset at working late. “I guess I would have remembered if I had. Boy, was she hot.”

      Zack stared him down with cool gray eyes, the same look he used on punk teenagers with an attitude. “Down, boy. Back to your mopping. Look here, someone has broken a bottle of cough syrup all over the floor. That’s too bad.”

      “I’ll never get out of here,” the kid grumbled. “Hey, man, what’s that on your shirt? You’ve got her watch or something caught on your button.”

      Zack looked down his nose at the middle of his chest. There was indeed a delicate silver chain dangling there; the clasp was caught in the loose thread from a button. “It’s not a watch,” he said, more to himself than the clerk. Carefully he untangled the almost weightless piece of jewelry from the front placket of his shirt. “It’s a bracelet. Her initials are on the clasp…H.S. I wonder what they stand for.”

      “Heather,” the clerk said promptly, his attention caught despite the heavy burden of working overtime. “She looks like a Heather to me. Hey, you want me to take her bracelet up front? I can have her paged.”

      “I can handle it.” Zack, holding the beautiful bracelet up to the light, began to smile. He’d completely forgotten about his cold. His symptoms had magically disappeared. He’d also forgotten about his vacation. Suddenly he had a fine new challenge, and the anticipation gave him a second wind. He actually laughed out loud, then took off in pursuit.

      Unfortunately, the sweet-smelling lady in leather had vanished. He checked each and every aisle, then jogged up to the front where a big-haired girl with white-frosted lips waited in front of a register. Zack had a killer smile. One of his former lady friends had once described it as a nuclear weapon. He used it now for all he was worth. “Hello, there. I know you’re closing now, but I wondered if you could do me a little favor?”

      She didn’t even consider it. “It’s past ten. My register is closed.”

      Zack stared at her, taken aback. Apparently the nuclear weapon had been a dud. This had never happened before. “Look, I need to talk to one of your customers. A young woman wearing a long, black leather coat. Have you seen her?”

      The girl nodded, snapping her gum. “Yeah. She asked me where the rest rooms were.”

      “And you told her…?”

      She opened her eyes wide. “Duh. I told her where they were.”

      Zack stopped being charming and reverted to cop mode. “Look, lady, the sooner you start cooperating, the sooner you can leave. Where are the damned…the rest rooms?”

      Her colorless, Casper the Ghost lips pouted. “Fine. Go to the double swinging doors at the rear of the store. Take your first door to the left and go down the stairs. You’ll see the signs. Hustle, will you? I’ve got a date tonight.”

      Poor guy, Zack thought, sketching her a mocking salute.

      Truth be told, he was surprised at his own determination to track down a woman who clearly wasn’t interested in being tracked down. He simply wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed by an attractive woman. It wasn’t so much that he was an egotist, he’d simply learned long ago to expect and receive special treatment from the ladies. He didn’t know if it was the cop thing or what, but women usually found him kind of appealing. Most women, anyway.

      He did have his pride to consider. He had no intention of following the lovely lady into the women’s rest room. That would look too desperate, not to mention somewhat indecent. Still, there was no law about waiting for her in the vicinity. After all, he was a Good Samaritan trying to do her a favor. His motives were almost selfless.

      Smiling to himself, he followed the cashier’s directions, going to the back offices of the store and through the double doors marked with an Employees Only notice, then opening the stairwell door. It was a heavy fire door, made of dull gray СКАЧАТЬ