The Mane Event Page 2

  For him, it had been more than her big tits and luscious mouth. Dez actually liked him back then. Just the way he was. Ninety pounds soaking wet, barely five foot three, a head of hair he couldn’t control, and the attitude of a giant. Most people didn’t like Mace. Dez, however, found him funny and smart. Even his sisters never saw him that way. To a fourteen-year-old, that meant everything to him.

  Then she left him. Walked out of his life and never came back. At the moment, Mace was completely ready to push her up against the wall and demand she tell him how she could leave him like she did.

  For years, a part of him kept expecting to see her again. Although he always wished he could forget about her. Lose himself in some of the other women he had met since he last saw her saddle shoes walking down the school hall and out of his life. But he never could. No matter how hard he tried, he could never forget about her. Hell, he still dreamed about her. She was older in his dreams, thank God, but his dreams didn’t do justice to the woman now standing in front of him, an NYPD badge hanging on a chain around her neck.

  “Mace Llewellyn? Is that you?”

  So, she did remember him. Good. Now he could tell her what a bitch she’d been for leaving him. For breaking his fourteen-year-old heart into a million pieces and stomping on it with her saddle shoes. He geared himself to do it, too—until she smiled at him. A smile that practically knocked him on his ass.

  After all these years, the woman leaped beyond perfect. Especially when she literally threw herself at him, her arms looping around his neck.

  “Jesus, Mace! I can’t believe it!”

  His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when she pressed her curvaceous body against his. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet. She actually squealed, which sounded strange with that voice of hers.

  “I don’t believe it, Mace!” He didn’t either. How did anyone smell this good? How was it humanly possible?

  She laughed. “Stop sniffing my neck!” She pushed against his shoulders and leaned back, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I can’t believe you’re still doing that.”

  “You smell good.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “So?”

  “So, what?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “Your question?”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Aw, Mace. Gimme a break.” She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held fast. “Are you going to let me go?”

  “I’m comfortable. Answer my question.”

  “My family moved, Mace. To Queens. My sisters and I went to a different school. I assure you it was nothing personal.” He stared at her. “It wasn’t!”

  “Did you write me?”

  “No, Mace.”

  “Did you think about me?”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “What? It’s a valid question.”

  “You know, you come from one of the wealthiest families in New York. You could have tracked me down if you really wanted to see me that badly.”

  “I was in military school.”

  Dez tried not to laugh, but it was a sad, weak attempt. “Sorry. I guess I just have a hard time imagining you taking orders from…you know…anybody.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Come on, Mace. It’s me.”

  He gazed down into her face. “Yeah. It sure is you.” Their eyes locked and, for several moments, they did nothing but stare at each other.

  Dez shook her head. “Okay. Put me down.”

  “Why?”

  “Mace!”

  He dropped her, forcing Dez to rock back on her heels. This, of course, forced him to grab her ass to steady her before she fell back.

  “Hands off, Llewellyn. Or I’m turning your nads into a necklace.”

  He smiled as he released her. “Well, you haven’t changed.”

  “Neither have you. I see Captain Ego still lives.”

  No other woman existed who he let get away with calling him that. He glanced down at himself. “I haven’t changed? Not even a little?”

  “I don’t mean physically, you idiot.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder, blinked in surprise, and suddenly felt the bicep under his leather jacket. “I definitely don’t mean physically.”

  He grinned at her, enjoying that his body seemed to have her so distracted. “You doing all right there, beautiful?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “At least tell me you missed me.”

  She nodded as her voice softened. “Yeah, Mace. I missed you. You were my best friend.”

  Best friend? He never wanted to be her best friend. He wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted her parents to catch them on their couch making out. He wanted to buy her one of those tacky ID bracelets with his name on it. He wanted to tattoo “Property of Mace Llewellyn” on her forehead.

  “Stop frowning, Mace.” She reached up and ran her hand over his brow. A move she used to do a lot in school. Often the only thing that kept him calm back then. The only thing that kept him from tearing idiot jocks and rich assholes apart with his newly sprouted fangs. “It’s been over twenty years, Mace. Let it go, bonehead.” She ran her thumb down his nose, spreading her hand out so her fingers cupped his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she smiled that smile.

  Even after all these years, she knew just how to handle him. How to contain the beast within his heart without even trying. Oh yeah. This woman was destined to be his. And nothing would get in his way now.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing with my brother?”

  Mace growled and wondered how much prison time a man would do for tossing his sister into the East River.

  Mace’s body tensed against her hand. Then she heard that Mace growl. He only used that when something really pissed him off. Poor baby, seemed he still didn’t get along any better with his sisters than she did with her own.

  She looked over her shoulder at the beautiful Missy Llewellyn. Unlike Mace, Missy hadn’t changed much. Still lean, gold, and beautiful. Pretty much the exact opposite of Dez whose least-favorite uncle still referred to her as “the pudgy one.”

  “Well? Answer me.” And still mean as a snake.

  Oooh. A pissed Missy. Dez loved this. She could have been good. She should have been nice. But come on. The entire homicide department didn’t call her The Instigator for nothing.

  Dez turned to face Missy and leaned back into Mace’s chest. Then, for the hell of it, she grabbed his big arms and wrapped them around her waist. Initially, she surprised herself with her physical reaction to Mace. Throwing herself into the arms of a man she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years really wasn’t her style. But just the sight of him brought back that fourteen-year-old girl who could never get enough of Mace and his inherent weirdness. But now? Well, using Mace to torture his sister—just a Dez party.

  She smiled at Missy. “Your brother asked me to come with him to a hotel for some wild, dirty animal sex…and I said lead the way.”

  Oh yeah. If looks could kill, she’d be nothing more than a greasy spot on the woman’s carpet. Apparently, Missy still felt Dez didn’t deserve her brother. Which only made the whole thing that much more fun. Of course, Mace tightening his grip on her body and nuzzling her neck—that didn’t hurt either. She wasn’t surprised, though, when Mace played along. The two of them together had always been trouble. The nuns always separating them in class, giving them detention, calling them evil incarnate and condemning them to the fiery pits of hell. Ya know…whatever.

  Seemed some things never changed.

  “So, Mace, I get off work in a couple more hours.”

  He shook his head. “Baby, I can’t wait that long. Let’s go bang this out in my sister’s office. You know. To take the edge off.” Dez wrestled the part of her that wanted to take Mace up on that particular offer and kept the game going instead.

  “That is sooo romantic, Mace. I never knew
you were so romantic.”

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet. Besides, Missy’s desk is a nice, sturdy mahogany. We could go at it like wolves on that thing, and it wouldn’t budge.”

  Ah, the Mace she remembered. The smart-ass kid who tortured people on a daily basis for his own amusement, and his sister was no exception. Actually, Dez knew he went out of his way to torture his sister and that he enjoyed every minute of it.

  Yup. Her day just kept getting better and better.

  Could his day get any better? The woman of his dreams cuddled up in his arms and his sister in an almost violent rage. A few more minutes of this and he would start purring and not stop.

  “Mason,” his sister spit that out between clenched teeth. “I need to speak with you. In private.”

  Mace watched her. He wondered how long before she snapped.

  “Now!”

  Well that took all of ten seconds.

  He watched her rigid back stalk into her office.

  “Ooh, Mace. You’re in tru-ble,” Dez whispered in a singsong voice.

  He pulled her closer to him. He couldn’t help himself. Did she have any idea exactly how tasty she was?

  Another cop came to stand beside them. He glared at Mace, but Mace ignored him. He wouldn’t let anything distract him from the woman in his arms.

  “We’re out of here.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Got a call from the lieutenant. They’re pulling us. I’ve been informed we have enough information for this investigation and we are not to harass Ms. Llewellyn any longer. And would you two stop whatever you’re doing?”

  “Hey, B! You’re harshin’ my buzz.”

  With an annoyed groan, the man turned away from them. Dez looked at Mace over her shoulder. “Mr. Llewellyn, I do believe your sister made a call.”

  “I believe you’re right, Detective.” His sister had a lot of political connections and was not shy about using them whenever it served her.

  “Too bad. I had such plans of torture for her. And they all involved her desk.” Smiling, Dez turned, reached up, and kissed Mace on the cheek. He’d had many women do much more intense things to him over the years, but none of it felt as good as that simple kiss. “It was really good seeing you again, Mace.”

  She pulled away from him and he grudgingly let her go.

  “And I’m glad you’re doing okay. Although I never doubted you’d do any less.” She motioned to her partner. “Let’s get out of here, B.”

  The male left. Dez followed behind, but Mace stopped her with one word. “Wait.”

  Dez looked at him, curious why he wanted her to wait. Actually, she found herself curious about a lot of things when it came to Mace.

  “Go out with me tonight. Dinner.”

  She laughed at what was clearly an order as opposed to a request. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t even remember my name, Mason Llewellyn.” He hadn’t said her name even once in the last ten minutes. It hurt to think he’d so easily forgotten about her, but when you looked like Mace now did, how could you remember all the women? Especially one who you hadn’t actually slept with.

  Dez turned and headed down the hallway.

  “Desiree.” She froze as his low voice slid across her skin. “Patricia. Marie. MacDermot. Dez for short.”

  Dez spun around, her mouth open in awe. “How the hell did you remember all that?” He even included her confirmation name. No one knew her confirmation name except the parish priest, and that’s because he really didn’t like her much.

  “I remember everything about you, Dez. Absolutely everything.”

  Her breath caught on a sigh. Her heart began to beat faster. And she suddenly wondered if Mace could feel her blood racing through her veins.

  After a few moments, she shook herself. “You’re still doing it, Mace.” The bastard.

  “Doing what?”

  She grinned and glared at him all at the same time. “Torturing me.”

  He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossing in front of him. He took all of her in. From those cute little feet, past those magnificent breasts, straight to those gray eyes and auburn hair. “Baby, I haven’t even started.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After another moment, “I’m outta here, Mace.”

  This was not how his fantasy went. She kept turning him down. Didn’t she know? “Yes” to dinner today. “Yes” to marriage tomorrow. Dammit, he had a schedule to keep. A schedule that involved getting her sweet ass into bed as fast as humanly possible.

  “When will I see you again?”

  She walked off down the hall. “For your sister’s sake, you better hope never.”

  Then she was gone. But this wasn’t over.

  Not by a long shot.

  Dez got in the passenger side of the car, leaning her head back against the seat and staring up at the roof of the Chevrolet.

  “Don’t do it, Dez.”

  She glanced at her partner of four years. “Don’t do what?”

  “Get all bunged up over this guy. He’s rich. He’s a Llewellyn. And he can have any piece of ass he wants in this town.”

  “I’m a piece of ass.” Dez grinned. “That guy from last week, who believes aliens were talking to him and that’s why he tried to set his neighbor on fire, said I was fabulous.”

  Bukowski, chuckling, started the car. “And he was right, even though he wasn’t the healthiest man we’ve ever arrested. But a guy like Llewellyn would never realize it. So don’t waste your time.”

  “I know. I know. A girl can fantasize, though.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He pulled out into traffic and headed back to the precinct.

  Mace Llewellyn. Back in New York and looking tastier than anything she’d ever seen before. Who knew he’d turn out like that? She’d always thought of him as adorable back in the day. The cute boy who sat next to her in science class, making her laugh by mocking everyone around them while trying not to stare at her breasts. He’d been brutal, witty, and her biggest crush ever. Now, however, well…now the man was a god. He had to be at least six foot four and well over two hundred pounds, without a single ounce of fat on him.

  Initially, she’d been unimpressed with the males she caught glimpses of while waiting around for Missy. Too pretty. Too glossy. Too…clean. They wore Armani suits and seven-hundred-dollar watches. They were all blond. No, not blond. Gold. Seriously gold. Their skin. Their eyes. Their hair. It was hard to believe these people lived in New York. Her New York. Where you found every shade, every hue, every color under the freakin’ rainbow.

  As far as Dez was concerned, her family represented true New York culture. Her father a good Irish boy from Hell’s Kitchen. Her mother a sweet Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Together those two people created one brown-skinned daughter who looked like she just arrived off the boat from Cataño. Another redheaded daughter with pale skin who looked like she should be on Broadway in Riverdance.

  Then they made Dez, who dangled between both worlds. Her straight brown hair had a reddish tinge. Her skin seemed to have spent too much time in the sun. Plus she had the same damn freaky-colored eyes as her dad.

  Mason seemed to have the same problem. He belonged and he didn’t.

  He always had the golden hair. The golden eyes. Even that golden skin. But now he had something rough and ready about him. He had stubble on that strong, square jaw. He had recently shaved off that golden hair, although it seemed to be fighting its way back. His pensive gold eyes showed he’d seen a lot of the world over the past twenty years. And based on the brutal scar that cut across his neck, the world had been pretty hard on him.

  Yeah, but Bukowski probably hit it right on the head. A guy like Mace was way out of her league…if she had a league. It’s not like she dated much once her marriage to “The Idiot” ended four years ago.

  Still, the fourteen-year-old Mace used to give her this little tingle at the base of her spin
e when he would smile at her in biology lab. This adult Mace, though, made her entire body tingle—violently.

  She didn’t even think Mace noticed her back then. He always treated her like a sister he didn’t actually hate. After seeing him now, though…well, she really hoped he didn’t actually look at his own sisters like that.

  Dez had changed. And all for the better. No longer the painfully shy girl trying to hide huge breasts behind a load of books so the jocks would stop trying to grab her, this Dez reeked of attitude and confidence. Almost cocky. Even the way she moved. She walked with her back straight, head held high, breasts straining beneath a burgundy turtleneck sweater, daring a guy to touch them. And seeing the way she moved, Mace had no doubt she would snap the neck of the first fucker who tried something.

  Yup. He still wanted her. Had to have her. And, like a gazelle running past him on the African plains, he would do whatever necessary to get his paws on her.

  Mace looked at the door that blocked him from his sister. With a heavy sigh, he walked toward it and prayed they got along better this time. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more stitches on his throat.

  Chapter Two

  “What exactly were you doing with that…that…police person?”

  Mace’s feet sat comfortably atop his sister’s desk, and his eyes stared up at the ceiling.

  “Well, if you hadn’t interrupted us, I probably would have laid her out on your desk and—”

  “Mason Llewellyn! This is not funny. That idiot is a cop—believe it or not—and she’s trying to prove that I had something to do with Alexander’s death. She actually asked me if I killed him.”