Playin’ Cop (Heroes of Henderson ~ Prequel) (4 page)

“So all these years you all have been holding out on me.”

Brooks leaned back and took a long swig of his beer. To Duncan it looked like he was hiding a laugh. “Timing is everything,” Brooks finally said. “And I’m thinking the time’s just about right.”

***

Those words rang inside Duncan’s head when he got his first glimpse of Annabelle that night.

He stood in the cold, outside on the grand porch of Henderson Country Club. He was purposely early. He thought it would be prudent to re-introduce himself to Annabelle without a large crowd around. Given that he was not, actually, Officer Friendly, or an officer at all—and that he’d given her a hard time and a three hundred dollar ticket this afternoon in order to win a bet—her reaction may not be in keeping with the impeccable manners she was known for.

And, feeling the tightness in his chest, he knew he deserved whatever penalty she dished out. He only hoped she didn’t have him thrown out of the party before he could coax her into giving Duncan James, attorney at law, a chance.

He swore he saw snowflakes drifting around him as he stared through the side panel windows of the double front doors of the club. The round foyer appeared to be lit in gold, giving warmth to the scene before him. Annabelle Devine took his breath away. Literally. He stood motionless, not sure if he was conjuring up a character from Homer’s
Odyssey
, because the gown Annabelle wore was straight out of Greek lore. Her silhouette displayed a graceful bare shoulder and arm and sheer flowing white fabric cascading to the ground. Her long red hair had been twisted up on her head in a sexy mess he hoped to get a chance to touch. Sooner rather than later.

There was a small crowd in front of Annabelle. Several younger women, all dressed in white ball gowns, stood in various stages of attention, but all were focused on what Annabelle was saying. She was animated, using her hands to direct her protégés. Behind them, proud parents stood, half listening, half talking amongst themselves. Eventually, the girls held their hands out for inspection. Given a nod, they pulled on their elbow-length gloves, except for one. After a brief discussion, Annabelle nodded and the one girl moved to hand her gloves to the coat check attendant behind Annabelle.

When she returned to the group, Annabelle gathered the girls tightly together and whispered for their ears only. To Duncan, it seemed like a football huddle, a secret game plan for the evening being discussed and agreed on. And then, in one happy moment, laughter erupted from all and the group disbanded, moving about in all directions.

Annabelle watched them go. Beaming, he noticed, like a proud momma. “The Keeper of the Debutantes,” he whispered. He heard movement behind him and turned to find Brooks Bennett’s parents coming up the porch steps.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bennett,” Duncan addressed them, reaching out his hand in greeting.

Mr. Bennett took it and shook it sharply. “Well, I’ll be. Duncan James. How are you, son?”

“I’m doing fine, Mr. Bennett. Thank you. Mrs. Bennett, you look lovely, as ever.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Oh, I always love having you boys around.” She tapped his cheek. “Are you here for the party?”

“I am.

“Well, good. You have a place to stay overnight? I don’t want you driving back to Raleigh after drinking in here.”

“I’m staying out at Brooks’ place.”

“In that mess?” Mrs. Bennett cried. “You come stay at our house.”

“Well, thanks for the invitation, but don’t you have Lewis staying there?”

“We do, but we have plenty of room. In fact, I don’t know why Brooks insists on staying at his place while it’s under construction. He could move right back into his old room and at least be comfortable while he’s fixin’ that place up.”

Duncan smiled at being given the perfect opportunity to set Brooks up. “Sounds like the smart plan to me. I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“Exactly. So we’ll see you both later tonight.”

“Come on, woman,” Mr. Bennett said, placing a hand under her arm and steering her toward the door. He looked back at Duncan and winked. “If we miss you tonight, be sure to stop by for our Rose Bowl party tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

He stood another moment before following the Bennetts through the door. It was eight o’clock and cars were starting to stream into the circular drive. If Duncan didn’t want a crowd when he first spoke to Annabelle, he’d better git-r-done.

Chapter Four

Annabelle’s breath caught as soon as she spied Duncan coming through the doors. She recognized his luxurious coat and Ryan Seacrest hairstyle. His face was still a bit of a mystery since he’d been wearing those clichéd mirrored cop shades this afternoon. She had the urge to pat her hair and wet her lips just glimpsing his profile. Instead, she took a deep breath to steady herself as John and Ellen Bennett came forward to greet her.

“Annabelle, wait until you see our Darcy this evening,” Mrs. Bennett said as she beamed proudly. “I swear since she’s moved to Boston her inner debutante has revealed itself. She’s transformed, I tell you. She started with LASIK surgery and is ending with a designer ball gown. Trust me, you will not believe your eyes.”

“Hardly recognized my own daughter,” Mr. Bennett added.

“Well, that is something,” Annabelle agreed. “Darcy dragged her feet through the entire debutante shopping experience. I wonder what has caused the change.”
 

Out of the corner of her eye, Annabelle watched Duncan hang back as the three of them talked. She also noticed his slight grimace when he was brought to her attention by Mrs. Bennett.

“Annabelle, dear. Have you been introduced to Duncan James?” Mrs. Bennett motioned for him to come join them. “We’ve known him quite a while now and we’re very proud of him. He’s with a law practice in Raleigh. You live in Raleigh too, don’t you?”

Game on.

“I do live in Raleigh,” Annabelle agreed. “But I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mrs. Bennett. This man is a special agent brought in to work with Henderson’s finest. In fact, I believe he was riding with Brooks today.”

John Bennett uttered an “Uh-oh,” while glancing over at Duncan.
 

“Well, no, I don’t think so,” his wife said, confused.

“Yes,” Annabelle insisted, turning her attention from Mrs. Bennett to Duncan. “I’m sure this is the officer who gave me a speeding ticket this afternoon. Isn’t that right?”

Annabelle felt sorry for Brooks’ father. The man immediately started to shift from one foot to the other, grabbing for the coat at his wife’s shoulders, trying to turn her attention away from the conversation. “Ellen, sweetheart, let me help you with your coat.”

“Well, no, Anna—
John!
What are you doing?”

Annabelle met Duncan’s eyes over the Bennetts’ tussle. He stood tall, his weight evenly distributed. His hands were clasped behind him making no effort to hide the telltale cashmere coat he had worn that afternoon. The same one, in fact, he had so gallantly wrapped around her. His eyes were yellow-gold and met her gaze full-on, unashamed and resolved to face whatever wrath she chose to dish out.

Brave. She liked that.

“Officer Friendly,” she said, tipping her head to the right indicating they should take a couple of steps away to have a more private conversation. He followed her lead.

“Duncan James,” he said, his eyes recapturing her gaze and holding it as she offered her hand at his introduction. Her father was right. He did have a firm handshake and solid eye contact.

“Annabelle Devine.”

“Keeper of the Debutantes.”

“You know about that?” She ducked her chin thinking the title had worn off. At the same time, she felt his thumb move back and forth over her hand. She kinda liked that.

“I know a little. I’m hoping you’ll tell me more.”
 

It was how he offered a sort-of apology, combining it with a declaration of interest all put out there with the smoking rich timbre of his voice that had Annabelle feeling lightheaded. She licked her lips, gathering her thoughts.

“And Mrs. Bennett said you’re a lawyer. Prosecution or defense?”

“Neither. Corporate attorney.”

What a shame for women on juries everywhere, she thought.

He cleared his throat. “Annabelle, I hope you’ll forgive me for that little…ah, prank, this afternoon.”

“Was I not speeding?”

His body shot to attention, fire amplifying the gold in his eyes. “Hell yes, you were speeding. You and that rocket ship were in ludicrous-speed when you roared by.”

“So, I deserved a ticket.”

“You did. Without doubt.”

“But you’re feeling guilty because my three hundred dollars isn’t going to
help out
the city of Henderson as you suggested, but
is
going to settle the bet you won with Brooks and Vance.”

Duncan moved his head around and adjusted his shoulders. “Ah, apparently someone has sold me out.”

“Indeed. But before you go and lose your Man Card by offering my money back, let me tell you that I consider that payment for our date tonight. And as I remember, you––well, you in your Officer Friendly persona––promised me ‘as much service as I can handle.’”

The color of his cheeks heightened. Trapped in so many ways Duncan opened and closed his mouth but none of that rich, sexy lawyer talk was forthcoming. She smiled broadly, satisfied to wait as he continued to try to conjure a response.

“I…I simply do not know what to say to all that,” he started. “I mean…Man Card? Really? Payment for our date? And…what was that? As much
service
as you can handle? Annabelle,” he said shaking his head, “if someone overheard you, your position as Queen Bee of the Debutantes would be revoked.”

“It’s Keeper of the Debutantes,” she corrected.

“That, too. And Brooks and Vance would have to haul both our asses in. Me for soliciting and you for buying.”

“Oh,” she said sweetly, “let’s not use ugly words like solicitation.”

“That’s what it is.”

“I know, but let’s just not call it that.”

Duncan pressed his lips into a firm line, saying absolutely nothing. But Annabelle felt the scolding heat of his you’re-pushing-it stare slowly penetrate all seven layers of her skin.

Hot, hot, hot.
Seriously
sexy.

And then…then he started unbuttoning his coat. Slowly. Deliberately. Annabelle grew flushed, becoming keenly aware of a smoldering longing flaring up as she watched him disrobe.

He pulled off his coat and carefully folded it over one arm. Then, in his quietest baritone, he said, “I swear to God, if you lick those lips one more time, I’m going to pull you obscenely close and kiss you long and hard right here by the front door.”
 

Her mouth parted in awe. “Was I really licking my lips?” she whispered.

He gave one short nod.

“Well, you can hardly blame me,” she said, pointing her finger up and down his body. “Wow.”

Duncan James, with his stylishly tossed dark head of hair and angular features softened only by the dimple in his chin, stood one head taller than her five-foot-seven-in-heels frame. He wore a tuxedo that was well-tailored to his broad shoulders and narrow hips. From head to pricey shoes, his style was classic. Impeccable. He knew what looked good on him and he knew how to wear it. She could have wept for the perfection standing before her. Instead, she stopped herself just as she was about to lick her lips.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, let me get rid of my coat and we can move this date to a quieter location.”

For a moment she thought he meant they would leave the party, and it surprised her that she would have gladly followed him right out the door. Not the best form for a hostess. Even though the invitation was officially sent by their parents, Tess, Grace and Annabelle did their part to make the evening the smashing success it was year after year. But, as Annabelle watched the throng of regulars arrive greeting one another with a “Happy New Year,” she decided her usual duties as greeter could be forgone this year.

She turned as Duncan approached and offered his arm. She sighed at the gesture, smiling her approval and then pointed the way up the foyer steps. Besides––she thought, while taking his arm––someone really should make sure our newest guest has a very good time.