Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

was getting on toward morning, but it was a brilliant madness that stabbed right through me. I might never get another chance to kiss Phil Martin, and I wanted everything I could get.
    Finally I pulled away and touched his cheek. He put his hand over mine. Then I got out of the car.
    There was nothing left to say.

    I MANAGED to stagger up the two flights to my apartment. I didn’t turn on the light because I didn’t want him to see me watch him leave. I had to wonder if I’d ever see him again. We were kind of in the same business, just on different sides of the fence. It stood to reason that our paths might cross again.
    I had a feeling it would be wiser if I made sure they didn’t. He’d shown me just what I was missing in playing the lone wolf, and that also highlighted the danger I’d be in if I changed the game plan now.
    Mr. Big, AKA Mr. Beautiful, AKA Mr. Martin was a hell of a good-looking guy and a good lay, but too rich for my blood. He was intrigued by me now, but neither of us could afford a long stretch 208

    CATT FORD

    inside. We were playing with fire if we thought this could go any further.
    It was a one-time thing. It happened. Now it was over.
    One of my private dick rules was to never get caught with my zipper down. I realized it was down now, though it wasn’t really my fault, as Phil Martin was the one who dressed me afterwards. I pulled it up, even though the cat was long gone out of that bag.
    His car was still down below, idling at the curb. Maybe he was waiting to see my lights go on. He’d be waiting a long time for that.
    Finally he put it in gear and drove off. I watched the distinctive taillights of his Lincoln as they went down the street. They flashed once as he touched the brakes and then turned the corner.
    I tried to remember the last thing he’d said before he let me out of his car.
    “You haven’t seen the last of me.”
    I hoped not. I really hoped not.

    CATT FORD lives in front of the computer monitor, in another world where her imaginary gay friends obey her every command.
    She likes cats, chocolate, swing dancing, sleeping, Monty Python, Aussie friends, being silly, spinning other realities with words, and sea glass. She dislikes caterpillars, cigarette smoke, and rude people who think the F-word (as in faggot, or bundle of sticks) is acceptable.
    A frustrated perfectionist, she comforts herself with the legend about the weavers of Persian rugs always including one mistake so as not to anger the gods, although she has no need to include a mistake on purpose. One always slips through. Writing fiction has filled a need for clever conversations, only possible when one is in control of both sides, and erotic romances, where everything for the most part turns out happily ever after.
    Visit Catt’s blog at http://catt-ford.livejournal.com/.

    Also by CATT FORD

    http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

    Mystery & Romance from DREAMSPINNER PRESS

    http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com