* * *
When they reached Gillian’s door, Garrett darted in front of her with one hand on his Glock. He needed to make sure no one was lurking in the hallway. He tried to tamp down the anger still coursing through his veins. How could he not want to go after the bastard himself? Sitting on the sidelines was going to kill him.
When they got to her bedroom, Garrett stood outside the door and remained rooted to the spot. He cleared his throat.
“What, aren’t you coming in?” she asked, looking at him like he’d sprouted another head.
“You need to invite me first. There are laws in our world, Miss Howe.”
Her brown eyes locked on his. “My apologies, your highness.” She extended her hand and bowed.
“Are you always such a smartass?”
“Only around you. Please, come in. Forgive me, this is the first time I’ve ever had a vampire in my bedroom.”
He crossed the threshold and scowled. The thought of any male going into her room filled him with irrational jealousy. “As long as we’re on the subject, vampire blood rings aside, you need to be careful who you trust. If I told you the things I’ve seen in my life as a cop, you’d think twice about who you date.” The last he’d inquired, which was several months back, Alex had confirmed Gillian was single.“Not that it’s any of my business, but you do have a habit of putting yourself in dangerous situations.” He couldn’t keep the note of possessiveness out of his voice.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I don’t make a habit of bringing strange men or vampires to my room. And like you said, it’s none of your business.”
“Agreed. I’ll just have a look around.” Her unique lavender scent flared in his nostrils and made him want to groan. He sniffed the air and caught the smell of an animal. “Do you have a cat?” He glanced around the spacious room, looking for anything suspicious.
“Yes. Salem's probably hiding somewhere. It takes a while for her to warm up to strangers. How much longer is this going to take?” she asked, sounding nervous. “If one of the girls comes home and sees you in my room at this hour of the night, they’ll get the wrong idea.”
“Maybe they’ll think this is what you’ve wanted to do since the moment we met,” he said, not able to resist goading her.
“Keep telling yourself that if it gets you through the day. Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”
“Sorry, but you walked into that one.” He pursed his lips to keep from smiling. “I’m almost finished.” A gossamer drape caught his eye and billowed around an open window. He walked over and pulled his gloves from inside his jacket pocket and slid them on. After he dusted for prints, he turned back to face her and gestured to the window. “Was this open when you left?”
“I don’t remember, but no one could get in. We keep charms on the windows and doors,” she explained, standing next to a desk cluttered with glass jars filled with herbs, and candles, along with piles of folded laundry.
“If a creature is powerful enough, especially a vampire, they could find a way to break through them.” He turned to slam the window shut and click the lock in place. His gaze went from the window to the lush, green plants. He crouched to touch the soil. It was still damp, which meant someone had been in her room today. Turning his head, he glanced at the assorted pieces of clothing and shoes that left a trail from the door to the bathroom. Who knew she was a slob?
“Sorry, maid’s day off,” she said, reaching for a pair of jeans and a sweater off the floor. She pitched both in the hamper.
“No problem,” he muttered, and his gaze rested on the carved, wooden headboard attached to her bed and the old-fashioned cream and navy comforter decorated with big, navy throw pillows. The room exuded a romantic, ethereal vibe, much like the lady herself. An antique rattan chair sat next to the bed, piled high with clothing. It felt intimate to be standing in Gillian’s bedroom.
“Well, have you picked up on anything else that seems suspicious, Detective, aside from the fact that I haven’t done my laundry in a while?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Not so far. But you should make sure everything’s in order.” The statement was an oxymoron, considering her room was a mess. His gaze narrowed on the decks of tarot cards, candles, and spellbooks lining her shelves, curious how she learned to use them all.
Through the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a collage of photos of her as a young girl. He couldn’t help but stop and stare. She posed alongside a very pretty woman with the same chestnut hair and goldish-brown eyes. From the resemblance, he guessed it must be her mom, and now, he knew where she’d inherited her looks. There were other pictures too, some of her with Brooke, and from the bright smiles on their faces, it was clear they shared a genuine affection for each other.
She picked up a laundry basket and began to fill it with the clothing from the floor. His gaze landed on something small, red, and lacy…a thong. Of course she wore sexy underwear. The realization made blood rush to his groin.
He moved behind the dresser, took off his suit jacket and folded it over his arm, hoping she wouldn’t notice his erection. She must’ve caught him staring at the underwear because a lovely blush spread from her cheeks to her neck. There was a long stretch of silence, and the air became thick with sexual tension.
His reaction to her didn’t surprise him. She’d made quite a lasting impression on him the first time he paid a visit to her coven. He’d made the mistake of going there first thing in the morning to question her and the other women about one of their clients who had been mixed up with some stolen antiques being fenced by the Shadow Cabal. Gillian had been the one to answer the door wearing a short silk robe that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Stunned by her beauty, he had wanted to run his hands over every inch of her luscious body and lick all that creamy skin. He’d been forced to count backward from a hundred to keep his thoughts in check, a trick he’d learned at the academy. Fortunately, he had one hell of a poker face.
The next time he stopped by to tie up some loose ends that frankly could’ve been finished from his desk, he’d been rendered momentarily speechless. The sight of her soaked in sweat with her nipples poking through her sports bra still replayed over in his mind when he was alone in his room, his hand down the front of his boxer briefs.
He needed to do something about this infatuation. It would only lead to trouble. She was a witness—things could get messy, and if there was one thing Garrett avoided at all costs—it was messy.
After he did a final sweep of the room, his gaze darted to hers once more. “I’m going to ask you one last time, does anything look unusual or out of place to you?”
* * *
Mortified, Gillian gestured to the piles of clothing scattered all over her room. “Is that a real question?” she asked, heat suffusing her cheeks. Was he mocking her clutter?
