Silk Over Razor Blades (8 page)

As she stared at his distraught
expression, Lenina’s shoulders slumped. She touched his knee. ‘I’m
sorry, Daddy . . . I should have said something.’

Ray’s eyes glimmered with the
unmistakable shine of unshed tears. ‘You could have died.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far, sir.’
Blake fussed with the cuffs of his suit jacket. ‘The individual
Miss Miller described is dangerous, but I don’t think he’s capable
of killing anybody.’

‘You know that for sure?’

Lenina jerked away from her
father’s knee. She recognised the icy stab of Ray’s tone and
prepared to weather the inevitable storm. Though she longed to warn
the detective of the danger, he spoke before she could catch his
eye.

‘We have profilers. I also have
some experience in the area.’

‘Really? How old are you?’

‘I fail to see how that’s
relevant.’

‘Experience is relevant,
Detective. You seem young. I want to know how your
experience
is going to help my daughter.’

Sergeant Blake tucked a curl of
hair behind his ear. ‘I’m thirty, Mr Miller. And I’m a trained
detective, this is my job.’

‘Then do it properly. This
crazy person attacked my daughter in public and you tell me he’s
not dangerous? Where was Nick through all this?’

‘Coming to get me.’ Lenina
re-entered the conversation with a whisper. ‘It’s my fault. I took
a short cut across the park. He told me not to but I did anyway. If
he hadn’t come to get me . . .’

Ray gathered her into another
of those rib-crunching hugs. ‘You should be able to go wherever you
want without worrying. This isn’t your fault. And you,’ Ray glared
at the detective over the top of her head. ‘What are you going to
do about it? Why are you here instead of looking for this man?’

‘I have some follow-up
questions. If you don’t mind, I’ll ask them, then get out of your
hair.’

‘Fine.’ Uncurling his arms from
around Lenina’s shoulders, the bigger man leaned back on the sofa
and folded his arms. ‘Well?’

Sergeant Blake straightened his
shoulders and took a deep breath. ‘Lenina,’ he began.

Ray cleared his throat.

‘Miss Miller, what you told us
yesterday was very helpful but—’

‘Us?’

Blake’s hands clenched briefly.
‘My partner, Mr Miller. Detective Inspector Brad Thorne. He
accompanied me last night.’

‘Where is he now?’

Though irritated by her
father’s tone, Lenina silently echoed the question. She looked at
Blake – really
looked
at him – and felt a little flutter in
the pit of her stomach. The detective’s hair gleamed as if
professionally treated. She could smell it; some expensive shampoo
and conditioner that brought to mind apple orchards and yellow
meadows. His royal-blue suit fitted his body with the same hints of
tailoring as the first and clearly cost as much. Beneath it he wore
a green shirt that matched his eyes so well, the choice couldn’t be
anything but deliberate. His tie, narrow and black, had
complementing stripes of the same emerald green.

As if he’d dressed for a
date
, Lenina thought. The pleasant flutter of butterflies
became the writhing ache of embarrassment as she took in her own
pyjamas and dressing gown. She longed for a dash of lipstick, a
flick of mascara or foundation, anything to counter the naked
sensation of inadequacy she felt in that moment. Blake stared at
her and his gaze caressed her skin like the brush of warm fur,
something she could roll in or cuddle. Lenina felt a mad urge to
giggle. Or sing. She did neither, merely stood and crossed to the
other side of the room, under the pretence of placing her empty mug
on the fireplace. Her shoulders itched and she knew Blake watched
her every move.

How can he make me feel like
this?

‘Miss Miller. I need to show
you some pictures.’ Sergeant Blake pulled a small envelope from his
pocket. Shaking the contents on to his hand, he held out a stack of
five photos. ‘Do any of these faces look familiar?’

Her fingers brushed his as she
took the photos. Instead of the faint excitement she experienced
the day before, Lenina felt the vibrant pulse of life within his
skin. The ebb and flow of hot blood coursing through his veins.
Lenina licked her lips, eyeing the single track of a pale blue vein
along the inside of his wrist. She traced it all the way into the
cuff of his jacket.

‘Miss Miller?’

She cleared her throat and
busied herself with the photos. As she skimmed through, she heard
her father speak again.

‘Sergeant, you never did say
where your partner was.’

His voice chilled the room.
‘Brad’s in the office working a separate case.’

‘Oh?’

‘Unfortunately yours isn’t the
only case we’re handling right now.’

‘And who decides the priority?’
Ray leaned forward.

‘The Chief Inspector.’

‘I see. But shouldn’t you be
working together?’

‘Daddy, stop it. Please.’
Lenina returned the photos, shaking her head. ‘Sorry, none of these
is the guy.’

She’d barely looked at them,
instead watching the sergeant move from beneath the thin veil of
her eyelashes.

Blake tucked the photos away
and stepped back. Lenina followed him, fighting an inexplicable
urge to close the distance between them. She thrust her hands into
her dressing gown pockets to prevent them wandering. ‘It doesn’t
feel like I’ve helped.’

He smiled. ‘Now I know who
not
to look for. That’s useful, Lenina. I promise. I’ll get
out of your way now.’

The way he said her name sent a
delicious shiver rippling down her spine.

‘Thanks.’ She touched her
cheeks, aware of the heat there. Not wanting to be obvious by
fanning her face, she turned away and took a few deep breaths.
‘I’ll show you to the door. Daddy, can you put the kettle on,
please?’

From the corner of her eye she
saw Ray glare at her, but her persistent blushes took precedence
over his resentment. She dashed for the hallway and heard the
detective follow.

Reaching the door, she pressed
her forehead to the cool glass and tried to think. What was wrong
with her? How could a few smiles and a smart suit reduce her to a
giddy, senseless wreck? She wasn’t a teenager any more. And what
about Nick, the man she intended to marry?

The hand on her shoulder made
her yelp. Lenina spun around so fast that her dressing gown swirled
around Blake’s knees. She stumbled and his hand steadied her, also
sweeping her close enough to smell the mint on his breath.

‘You okay?’ he whispered. ‘Do
you need to sit down?’

‘No, you made me jump.’ She
tilted her head back, gazing into his eyes and all the shades of
the forest they held. ‘And I’m stressed.’

‘I’m not surprised. But I want
you to know that you’ve really helped me today.’

A warm, fuzzy tingle ran from
her head to her toes. ‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He grinned. It felt
like watching the sun peep out from behind clouds. ‘Really.’ His
voice dropped an octave. ‘Sorry if I got you in trouble with your
dad. He didn’t look happy.’

She nodded, startled by how
difficult it was to think with his hand on her shoulder. ‘He
worries about me. More than he needs to. That’s not your
fault.’

‘Good. Because I didn’t come
here just to show you photos.’

She licked her lips and tried
to back up. The door blocked her retreat.

‘I wanted to check on you.’

‘Oh.’

Another smile and a flash of
white teeth. ‘I wanted to see you. Be sure you’re okay. You’ve been
through a lot.’

Her heart hammered her ribs.
Sweat broke out on her palms. ‘That’s sweet.’

‘It’s my job.’

Every sensible part of Lenina’s
rational mind told her this visit was far above and beyond the call
of duty.

She stared into his intense
green eyes and inhaled until the smell of peppermint saturated her
nostrils. His lips parted and between them she saw the pale tip of
his tongue.

Wild thoughts of kissing raced
through her mind. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem, Lenina.’ The
syllables of her name lingered on his lips before hitting the air,
giving the impression that he tasted each one before letting it go.
She shivered so hard that his hand slipped off her shoulder and
down her bicep. He held her elbow gently and leaned forward again.
His breath whispered over her face, hot and sweet. His eyes
widened, pupils growing large and dark.

‘Nothing you want or need will
ever be a problem, understand?’ He didn’t wait for an answer.
Instead, he released her elbow and reached into his pocket. The
loss of his touch made her gasp.

‘Take this.’ Blake pushed a
small white card into her shaking hands. ‘My office number. And
mobile. Just in case.’ At last, he backed away.

Ray chose that exact moment to
stick his head around the doorway. ‘Everything okay out here?’

She shoved the business card
into her pocket.

‘Yes, thanks.’ Blake held her
gaze for a fraction longer before glancing over his shoulder. ‘I
was telling Miss Miller how to reach me if she remembers anything
else.’

If his earlier actions hadn’t
been clue enough, the blatant lie cinched it. Lenina felt the hairs
on the back of her neck stand to rigid attention. She felt
light-headed. Warm. Her skin tingled with a need to be touched and
she took several deep breaths through her nose.

Averting her gaze, she stepped
to one side and opened the front door. ‘Thank you, Detective. I
appreciate your help.’ He stared at her, she could feel it, but
nothing short of open threats could have made her look up in that
moment.

Before he could speak, Nick
thundered down the stairs in his motorbike leathers, the huge round
helmet dangling from the bend of his elbow. ‘You still here,
Detective?’

His appearance broke the spell.
Lenina felt Blake look away like a prickly blanket lifting off her
shoulders. She gazed at her fiancé. Her chest tightened. Did he
know? Could he tell how her body responded to the proximity and
scent of another man?

She made several attempts to
swallow the growing lump at the back of her throat. ‘He’s leaving
now,’ she said.

‘Yes, I have what I need. Bye,
Mr Harrison.’

‘Yeah, bye.’ Nick gave the
detective an absent wave and stopped before Lenina. He placed his
hands on her shoulders. Kissed her cheek. ‘You okay, babe? You’re
all flushed.’

She looked at his chin, not
daring to meet his eyes. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Remember to call the doctor.
Let me know if Ray is staying or if I need to ride back from the
office.’

‘Sure.’

Another kiss. ‘Thanks. Bye,
Ray. Good to see you.’

‘You too.’ Ray inclined his
head.

Nick swept out the door, taking
the detective with him. They shook hands on the drive and Nick
leapt on to his bike, wedging his helmet on to his head and riding
away. Blake climbed into his own car and drove away. Only after
both men cleared her line of sight did Lenina close the door.

Ray loomed behind her, arms
folded tight across his broad chest.

‘We need to talk,’ he said.

Lenina paused en route to the
kitchen, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She could still
smell Tristen on the air; his peppermint breath and a trace of his
spicy aftershave. It brought to mind his smile and gentle hand on
her arm. Her cheeks warmed.

Armed with the pleasant memory,
she entered the kitchen. Ray waited for her at the table, massive
hands wrapped around a mug of tar-like coffee. The bitter scent
warred with the peppermint and chased it away, as if even her
father’s beverage wanted the detective gone. Opposite him was
another mug, again of coffee. A pot of sugar stood beside it, spoon
sticking out to one side.

‘I don’t like coffee,’ she
whispered.

Ray pursed his lips. ‘Then I’ll
drink it. But you should lay off food this morning.’

‘Why?’

‘Stress and shock can do funny
things to your insides. Make sure you’re settled before you try
anything solid.’

She sat down. Picked up the
mug. Put it down without drinking. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’

‘What for?’

Though she opened her mouth,
the response refused to surface.

He snorted. ‘You don’t even
know why.’

His words cut like razor
blades. ‘For not telling you what happened. I didn’t plan to.’

‘I know. But I worry about
you.’

She gripped the edge of the
table. ‘I’m twenty seven, not a little girl. I can cope.’

‘Can you?’

Glaring into his calm, steady
face, she saw the question in his arched eyebrows. ‘What’s that
supposed to mean?’

He sighed. ‘Sometimes things
happen that you can’t help. But they change you. I want to be sure
you’re ready for whatever comes next.’

‘There is no ‘next,’ it was
just a crazy, homeless man. I want to move on and forget the creepy
guy even exists. I’m more concerned about this horrible scratch on
my face and what to do about the catering. Two weeks really isn’t
very long.’

Ray leaned back in his seat. He
tucked his thumb into his mouth and gnawed the nail. ‘You and
Jordan are everything to me. If anything happened . . .’

‘It didn’t. I’m hurt, but
okay.’

‘You don’t feel weird? Ill?
Tense?’ His gaze strayed to the bandage on her neck.

‘Of course I’m tense; you
haven’t stopped nagging me since you arrived. I thought Mum was
supposed to do that.’

‘We swapped, I’m better at it
than she is.’

It took Lenina several seconds
to realise he’d made a joke.

Ray sighed. ‘Would you tell me
if something was wrong?’

She thought back to earlier
that morning and the excruciating pain in her midsection. Dry
heaving over the toilet bowl. Bizarre and full sensory dreams about
soldiers in ancient battles.