He felt it. He just had no idea what it meant.
The drive to her apartment should have been a short one but the weather made it much longer. Alice glanced at Riehl a few times when he took the correct route without asking. Her hands tightened as she clasped them together in her lap but she remained silent. He hadn’t had time to do much when dispatch had contacted him, but he’d done a quick search on her name. Alice Clark, age thirty-five. Hell, he’d been in the army for longer than she’d been alive, for over twice her lifetime. DMV records stated she owned a Prius. He wondered if, like a lot of city dwellers who were car owners, she was a weekend driver.
Her address turned out to be a garden apartment in a brownstone near Prospect Park. After they parked, he followed her down the shallow, ice-slick steps to her front door. The decorative wrought iron security grille on the front window was coated in ice. Heat blasted him in the face as they stepped inside. He was already stripping off his jacket as she locked and bolted the front door.
Her pretty hazel gaze rose to his face and skittered away as her hands moved to unfasten the buttons of her black wool coat. Christ almighty, watching her disrobe even that small amount hit him like a mule kick. He sucked air and pivoted away to stare at the wall.
“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I would like to change into some dry clothes.” She sounded breathless, her voice barely over a whisper, and it was so sexy it was as if she had run a finger lightly down his bare spine.
He shuddered, made a herculean effort and managed to articulate a few words. “You do that.”
She switched on every light as she left. In her absence the room seemed too empty. As Riehl waited, he prowled through her living room and stood in the doorway to peer into the kitchen/dining area. The apartment was too hot, of course, but he knew it would be. Alice’s home was larger than Haley Moore’s apartment. It looked like it might actually have two bedrooms, and there was a back door. The spacious room was decorated with a few colorful sunflowers strategically placed to accent sage green cabinets. A stacked washer and dryer sat in an alcove that could be hidden by a wooden folding door cover. A sturdy, plain oak table with four chairs sat in the dining area.
He moved to look out the back door’s window, noting with approval that it was covered with a security grille as well. What he could see through the storm’s white-out was a small back garden surrounded by a privacy fence, now shadowed and covered with a thick blanket of snow. That tiny piece of real estate would be a refreshing haven in the spring, summer and fall.
So she didn’t flaunt it, but she had more money than her friend. She could afford a bigger place with a garden, and to keep a car in the city.
Riehl moved back into the living room. Plain, comfortable furniture in earth tones, a couch, a rocker and one of those long chair thingies—what were they called? A chaise lounge. Lots of bookcases filled with a variety of hardcover books and paperbacks, potted plants all over the place, truly beautiful handmade quilts folded and laid along the backs of the couch and chairs, and in one corner another half-finished quilt was in a round hoop set in a floor stand. Several pieces of original artwork hung on the walls, lush jungle scenes filled with rich greens and the occasional spray of exotic flowers. Riehl wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, an art aficionado, but they all had a similar style and seemed to be from the same artist. A glass-paned gas fireplace was set against one wall.
Alice had used the dimensions of the room well to create an oasis. It looked comfortable while also conveying a sense of space, brightness and a touch of outdoors. He turned on the gas fireplace and stood back. Strategically placed area lamps helped to create a quieter evening mood. With the flickering gas flames, he could almost imagine lounging at a fire ring outside surrounded by living greenery. Both wolf and man heartily approved.
Gentle sparks of her Power dotted the home, more like soft glows than anything else. The place smelled like her, that delicate, evocative, tantalizing scent. He took deep breaths and felt the tension between his shoulder blades ease. Her place was attractive and welcoming, but not fussy or pretentious. He didn’t feel claustrophobic here. He felt good.
He heard her moving around in her bedroom and imagined her taking the rest of her clothes off. Instantly his cock hardened and strained against the confines of his zipper.
He was such a guy. Could he get more reprehensible?