Along for the Ride
| Along for the Ride | |
| Matthews Sisters [2] | |
| Michelle M Pillow | |
| Virgin Books (2007) | |
| Rating: | **** |
| Tags: | Contemporary |
Meet Megan Matthews, a detective who is cursed with always being right. Her instincts are good, her deductive reasoning even better. But she’s that most men find her intimidating, so she’s given up trying to find Mr. Right and has settled, perversely, for arresting Mr. Wrong. Crime scene photographer Ryan Andrews has had a wicked crush on the sexy detective since he first took her photograph by accident at a crime scene. That picture became headline news, and she hasn’t talked to him since. He’s tried everything to get her attention, and when nothing works he’s left with only one option. But is blackmailing a cop into marriage really a good idea?
Table of Contents
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Epub ISBN: 9780753526828
Version 1.0
In real life, always practise safe sex.
First published in 2007 by
Cheek
Thames Wharf Studios
Rainville Road
London W6 9HA
Copyright © Michelle M Pillow 2007
The right of Michelle M Pillow to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Typeset by SetSystems Ltd, Saffron Walden, Essex
Printed and bound by Mackays of Chatham
PLC
PLC
The paper used in this book is a natural, recyclable product made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The manufacturing process conforms to the regulations of the country of origin.
ISBN 978 0 352 34145 7
Distributed in the USA by Holtzbrinck Publishers, LLC, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010, USA
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
‘There is so much I want to do to you, but we don’t have the time.’ He kept his voice soft, as if they might be overheard. Megan was glad he couldn’t see her face in the shadowed enclosure. All thoughts of how they came to be together fell from her mind until it was only the moment before them.
‘What would you do to me?’ Megan kept her eyes on his as she picked the best spot she could find, an old curved tree with barren limbs just about the right height to hold on to. ‘Tell me. I want to know.’
Other Cheek titles by the author:
FIERCE COMPETITION
OPPOSITES ATTRACT
BIT BY THE BUG
For more information about Michelle M Pillow’s books
please visit
www.michellepillow.com
www.michellepillow.com
To Dan, who every single book is dedicated to, whether it says it or not. You are my knight in colourful armour, the thorn in my backside and the love of my life. Now, please, go pick your dirty socks up off the living room floor.
Chapter One
Lower Manhattan, New York City
‘Ah, crap, what is he doing here?’ Detective Megan Matthews frowned, leaning over to set her cup of coffee on the hood of Sam Chambers’s squad car. She’d caught a glimpse of the all-too-familiar and unwelcome Ryan Lucas, and hoped by leaning over out of his eyeline that he’d not see her. ‘Doesn’t the department have any other photographers they can call? Does it
always
have to be him?’
always
have to be him?’
It was late, but the streetlights and squad cars lit up the narrow street, shining down the abandoned alleyway now blocked off with yellow barrier tape. Part of a long trail of museum artefacts littered the alley, dropped by less than ninja-like burglars as they ran from the law – or, in this case, two museum security guards who were in somewhat impressive shape. The mess had created a crime scene that lasted for several city blocks.
Seeing one of the security guards smiling in her direction, Megan turned her attention away without encouraging him. She had put in a long day only to be called back to work the second she walked into her apartment. The last time she’d had a full night’s sleep was over a month ago and the last time she’d had a day off was too long past to remember. For the most part, she didn’t care. Her work was her life. She wasn’t ashamed of that fact.
However, her job had seemed less important as of late. At 29, Megan was one of the youngest detectives on the force. She’d been on homicide for a little over two years before transferring to a special investigations unit. Now she worked on solving burglaries and the occasional kidnappings. Somehow, looking for stolen art wasn’t as rewarding as apprehending a killer. But what could she do? The transfer was unavoidable, but not completely her choice. She blamed Ryan Lucas for it.
Ryan was new to their ranks as a forensic photographer, having come to them from newspaper freelancing. The annoying man literally entered her life in a ‘flash’. With one click of a shutter release during the now infamous arrest of a serial killer, he’d made her immortal and also made it damn hard to do her job. Because of that photograph, she was now New York City’s ‘Little Darling Detective’. It showed her taking down Jersey St Claud, a man accused of killing seven women in just over three years.
Accused, my ass, St Claud is a guilty fucker.
Because of Ryan, her image had been plastered everywhere for months, turning up over and over again on the news during the initial arrest and pre-trial. She’d even heard of it being published in a few books, though she’d never seen it herself. Now with the trial coming up, there it was again. Images were powerful things and, because of the photo, she was often given sole credit for what had been a group effort.
Being a ‘Little Darling Detective’ meant she’d not had even the slightest hint at a decent date in just under a year. Her job was tense enough as it was, but take away any kind of recreational sex and she was a basket case. It was one of the reasons she’d asked to be transferred off homicide. The only men who wanted to be seen with a famous cop were the ones wanting to show her off like a dating trophy. She refused to be a novelty story they could tell their friends at parties. Then there were also the submissive types who wanted her to dominate them. Sure, she’d run into the kind before, but now it was worse. They all wanted the woman who took down crime with a single knee to the back.
‘What, Matthews? Not happy to see your boyfriend?’ Sam laughed. He was a pain in the ass, but she’d take a bullet for him nonetheless.
‘Do me a favour. Try to distract him while I do a once through of the crime scene before taking off,’ Megan said, ignoring the boyfriend comment. Denying the obvious fact that she had nothing to do with Ryan Lucas would only make the teasing worse. ‘I’m beat and you all have this handled. Every cop in the city is on the lookout for the perps.’
In perspective, a few missing pieces of art hardly called for sleepless nights, although her artist sister, Kat, might disagree with that fact. However, Megan had seen much worse in the line of duty. What was a missing painting and a few ancient rocks compared to a person’s life?
‘You got it, boss.’ Sam nodded, automatically pushing up from the car.
The one good thing that had come from Ryan’s photograph was that she’d got a lot of respect from fellow officers. Not once did she live up to the hype of her publicity. She still came to work, still did her job and never asked for special treatment. Sure, the teasing had been hard at first, but she ignored it. Then, when it came time for public statements, she’d given credit to everyone from the police department to the FBI, downplaying her role in the arrest. In doing so, she’d earned herself some in-house kudos.
‘Hey, superstar, where you off to so fast? Running off to solve the case without us?’
Megan flinched at the sound. Naturally, there were still a few jerks willing to annoy her. She turned, keeping a blank face, as she acknowledged him. ‘Axel.’
Who in the hell called him?
Axel was the true definition of ‘cop’ – every stereotypical image that popped up when someone said the word. He had the buzz cut, the mirrored sunglasses, the thick moustache and bad aftershave. His daddy was a cop, his daddy’s daddy was a cop, his uncles and brothers and even his brother-in-law were all cops. Deciding she didn’t want to deal with him, she rudely turned and ducked under the tape.
‘Whoa, so the little darling doesn’t have time for average joes like me, eh?’ he yelled after her, snickering in a way that made her skin crawl.
‘Don’t you have a bribe to take?’ she mumbled back.
‘Hey, those charges were dropped!’
Megan didn’t answer. She grabbed a flashlight from her waist and shone the beam of light over the ground. Already, the little yellow photo markers were propped up, ready for Ryan to come through and snap his pictures. She stepped slowly around them. Each one indicated a piece of the stolen artefacts from one of the museums uptown. Her thick boots hardly made a noise as she walked over the uneven concrete. Seeing a glittering object within the darkness, she moved the beam of her flashlight behind a trashcan. It looked like a diamond earring.
‘Someone bring me a marker,’ Megan called.
‘Here, I’ve got some.’
She stopped moving, closing her eyes. Wasn’t Sam supposed to be distracting Ryan? Then what was the photographer doing alone in the alley with her? She didn’t like him being around. Just his presence worked her nerves and distracted her concentration.
‘Here,’ Ryan repeated when she didn’t answer. ‘What do you have?’
‘There,’ Megan said, pointing with the light. She held it steady as he brushed past her to set the marker. ‘Looks like an earring. Strange, considering what else they took.’
Ryan stepped through the beam and for a brief moment she got a good look at his face – not that she needed to see him to remember what he looked like. His hair was longer, falling to his chin in soft brown waves. The man had an endless supply of T-shirts and blue jeans, which always bulged at the pockets with the canisters that held rolls of film. She wondered why he carried print film when all she’d seen him use at crime scenes was a digital camera.
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