A Season of Angels (Angels Everywhere #1)(13)

“It’s mighty cold to be standing outside for any length of time, isn’t it?”

Monica didn’t deign to answer him. A lady in a fur coat walked past and dropped a few coins into the red kettle. “Merry Christmas,” Monica said from pure habit.

“The same to you,” the private investigator answered.

“Please leave me alone,” she whispered.

“It seems to me I asked the same thing of you recently and did it help? Oh, no, you were convinced I needed to be saved.” He flung his hands into the air. “Hallelujah, brother.”

“Please.” She tried again.

“Not on your life, sister,” he responded.

“If you continue to pester me you’ll leave me no choice but to contact the police and have you forcibly removed.”

“Threats?” He folded his arms over his broad chest and arched both brows in mock terror. “So you want to involve the authorities. Fine. Good luck finding a cop walking his beat. In case you weren’t aware, the city’s seriously understaffed, and this time of year is busier than most.”

Monica knew God was looking out for her when a city cop turned the corner just then, casually sauntering down the sidewalk. “Officer, Officer,” she called, wasting no time. “This man is bothering me.”

The policeman, who was tall and burly beneath his thick coat and cap, was casually swinging his billy club. “You troubling this young lady, Chet?”

It was just her luck that they knew each other.

“Bothering this woman? Me? You know me better than that,” Chet answered, beaming Monica a cocky smile. “I’ve got more important things to do.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“He refuses to leave,” Monica supplied huffily.

“Now, listen, miss, I know Chet’s a sorry-looking alley cat, but he’s harmless. Let me assure you, you’re in no danger from him.”

“Thanks, Dennis,” Chet said and dipped his head slightly.

“That’s simply not true,” Monica tried again, more adamantly this time. “I politely asked him to leave and he refused.”

Dennis bounced the billy club against his open palm a couple of times. “Chet, stop pestering this pretty young lady.”

“Sure thing.”

Dennis touched the tip of his hat. “He’ll leave you alone now, miss.” With that he strolled away.

“You aren’t going to leave, are you?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, he’s got better things to do than listen to you making a fuss over nothing. This is a public sidewalk, there’s nothing Dennis can do but ask me to move on, which he’s already done.”

“Why do you insist upon doing this?” Monica demanded, straightening her shoulders. She forced herself to look directly ahead and away from him, because looking at Chet caused her stomach to flutter as if she were coming down with the flu.

“Hey,” he said, raising both hands, “I’m paying you back for what you did the other day.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“You were a major pest. Now you know how it feels.”

“If you’re looking for me to apologize, then—”

“No, thanks.” He walked all the way around her once more, then stood directly in front of her, hands on his hips. “You know, you might really be something in the looks department if you ever decided to wear makeup.”

Monica ignored the comment.

“A little blush and eye liner aren’t tools of the devil, you know.”

She pursed her lips to restrain herself from chastising him the way he deserved.

“My, oh, my, look at that sour puss. I was right the first time.”

“About what?” she demanded before she could stop herself.

“What you really need is to be kissed, and sweetheart, I’m the man to do it.”

Chapter 4

Chet never intended to kiss Monica. He’d taken delight in teasing her and she was easy game. Her face flushed with color, brightening her cheeks, and her eyes snapped with outrage, challenging him. Chet was ready to laugh and walk away when a Metro bus came rushing down the street, the thick tires spraying the sidewalk with a shower of icy, muddy water.

Monica, standing as close to the curb as she was, would receive the brunt of the spray. Thinking quickly, Chet caught her by the shoulders and whirled her around. The bus passed and the muddy water sprayed him against the back of his legs. He grimaced as the icy liquid soaked through his trousers at his calves.

“What are you doing?” Monica demanded.

Her back was against the brick building and she was breathing hard. Her br**sts rose up and down and her hands clenched at the lapels of his trench coat as though to push him away. When she moistened her lips as if she fully expected him to follow through with his threat, it was his undoing. He felt as if a fist had been plowed into his gut. He didn’t want to kiss her any longer, he needed to.

“No, please,” she blurted out, sounding as if she were near panic.

“Relax,” he whispered coaxingly. “This isn’t going to hurt in the least.”

She jerked her head to one side but he caught her by the chin. By all that was right he should have released her then, but the temptation was too strong, too sweet and piercing to ignore.