The Secret Millionaire. Ryanne CoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
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 steel and posted with a No Exit sign. Another sign below this read, Authorized Personnel Only. Below that, Shoplifters Will Be Prosecuted to the Full Extent of the Law. Zack decided this was the least friendly store he had ever patronized.
Other than a single yellow lightbulb swinging from the ceiling, the hallway was in shadows. His face split with a grin, Zack squatted and looked at the sliver of light beneath the door of the women’s rest room. He wasn’t a detective for nothing, no sir. Now all he had to do was hurry up the stairs, station himself by the door of many signs and gallantly return her bracelet. She would have no choice but to introduce herself. He didn’t know why it was so important that he know her name, but it was. His extraordinary intellect, combined with years of detective work, had left him with amazing powers of observation and recall. She had been wearing large, glittering earrings, obviously paste, but still nice. On close inspection her black coat was not leather at all, but a less-expensive imitation. Besides the thin silver chain around her wrist, she’d also worn a chunky men’s digital watch, an inexpensive Timex if he wasn’t mistaken. Most important, she had not been wearing a wedding ring. If he remembered accurately, she’d had a ring on every finger, with the single exception of her ring finger. It was a very important finger.
He heard the doorknob to the women’s room rattle a bit, and quickly loped up the stairs three at a time. He didn’t want to scare her by waiting in the hallway like some stalker. He’d go back into the well-lit storeroom and…and…
He tried the fire door a second time, with more force.
It was locked.
He winced as he heard her come out into the hallway. He was caught like a rabbit in a snare. This was going to severely affect his dignity. He remained rooted to the spot, hot blood burning his cheeks as he listened to the click, click, click of her heels moving down the hallway.
“Excuse me?” said a curious voice