Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace #5) - Keri Arthur Page 0,43
Business was brisk all morning, but it slowed down in the afternoon, which allowed us to do some more baking. Aiden had obviously spread the news about the goodness of our brownies, because we could barely keep up with demand.
I dithered over what to wear for our date for a good half hour before deciding on a formfitting dark green sheath dress whose only embellishment was a chunky golden zip that ran the full length of the dress’s back, and paired it with gold shoes and handbag to provide a bit of extra bling.
Aiden—who now had his own key—appeared just as I was clattering down the stairs. His gaze traveled slowly down my length, and desire burned in his eyes. “Well, don’t you look good enough to eat?”
I smiled and sashayed toward him. He wore black dress pants that hugged his hips, then skimmed the long, lean length of his legs, and a soft blue-gray shirt that emphasized his shoulders and sharpened the blue of his eyes. “So do you.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and claimed his lips. He tasted of coffee, passion, and desire, and all I wanted to do was remain in his arms for as long as I could, while I could.
A thought I didn’t want to examine. Not right now.
“You have no idea just how badly I want you at the moment,” he murmured, his breath a hot caress against my lips.
I laughed softly and pressed a little closer. “Oh, I think I do.”
“Vixen.” He kissed my nose and then pulled back. “I can also state that I’m going to take great delight in unzipping that dress of yours all the way down your spine and then slowly tasting every single naked inch of you.”
Desire shimmered. “We could always skip dinner and go back to your place.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” He held out his hand. “And we’d better get going, otherwise we’ll be late.”
“Why are you being so cagey about this date? What’s going on?”
He opened the door and ushered me out, then caught my hand again and led me down the street. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“And now you’re making me worried.”
“There’s no reason to be.”
“I’m not convinced.” Especially when his aura was a riot of color that betrayed his outward sense of calm.
He opened the door of his truck and helped me onto the seat. “I’m under orders to keep things secret, so secret they will be.”
“That’s not helping, you know.”
“I know, but it is what it is.” He slammed the door once I was seated, then climbed in on the other side and started the engine. “It’ll take us about half an hour to get there.”
“Define ‘there.’”
“Bendigo.”
“We’re going out of the reservation?”
“Indeed.”
Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice was wont to say. But it was pointless questioning him any further; it was pretty obvious he wasn’t going to give anything away. “How did the council take the news that we’ve a flesh-stripping demon on the reservation?”
“About as well as you’d expect. They’re seriously worried tourism is going to be affected if this run of murders continues. And yes, they’re well aware that the fault is their own.”
“There hasn’t been much in the local newspapers about them yet.”
“No, but that’s never stopped the news from spreading.”
Thanks in part to the gossip brigade. Nothing seemed to escape their notice. Maybe I should have asked them what the hell Aiden was up to.
“Were you able to glean anything from last night’s murder?”
He grimaced. “Not really. Ashworth is of the opinion that something must have gone wrong, as it lacked the finesse evident in the previous two.”
Which was putting it mildly. “What about the victims? Any progress on identifying them?”
“The buried victim was Joseph Banker, who went missing four days ago. His parents confirmed the watch was his today.”
“I take it they didn’t view the remains?”
“Gerard did, against our advice.” Aiden grimaced again. “That went as well as might be expected, too.”
“What about the others?”
“No progress as yet, although last night’s victim did at least have teeth, which should help. Ciara’s completed the facial reconstruction image of the victim found at the crossroad, and Maggie’s going through our missing persons files to see if we can find a match.”
“That sounds like you have quite a number of people who go missing.”
“We get two or three a week, on average. Most of them have simply gotten lost, but there’s always one or two a month we never find. I suspect most of those have deliberately disappeared.”