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did Duke’s response to her. He’d been hoping his earlier lust had been a fluke, but his current physical affliction assured him he wanted her.
Duke took advantage of her distracted state to study her. She’d obviously gone home and changed. Her trench coat flung wide open now, revealing a black turtleneck sweater he’d be willing to bet was cashmere. Gray wool trousers covered every inch of her luscious legs and black leather boots encased her feet, their heels as high as the Barbie doll shoes had been. Her light brown hair remained in the high-class twist at the back of her head, although more strands fell forward now to frame her face. A small leather satchel swung on her arm in time with her fast steps.
She looked like a confident fashion executive now, whereas earlier, she’d seemed nervous and shy. All of which had Duke wondering what the hell she was up to.
Struggling to put his duty as a law enforcement official ahead of his hunger for a small taste of Amanda’s smooth skin, Duke strode closer. “Amanda?”
The word halted her, dragging her attention from the elevator doors toward him. The satchel she carried swayed like a pendulum for a moment, then slowed to a stop along with her.
Now that he had a better view of her face, he could tell she wasn’t as confident as her posture suggested. Little lines of worry creased her brow and set her full lips in a straight slash.
She seemed to take a minute to compose herself. Clearly, she hadn’t thought she would be seeing him here. “Detective.”
With a great deal of effort, he managed to flash his charming grin, his good cop facade. “Call me Duke.”
Her answering smile seemed forced, a difficult unveiling of her teeth rather than an act to light up her delicate face.
Damn. He really did not want to discover Amanda was party to her boyfriend’s criminal activities. Why did she have to look so guilty?
“Right. Duke.”
When she didn’t offer any explanation for her presence, Duke prodded her. “Returning to the scene of the crime?”
Amanda struggled to formulate an answer. She hadn’t expected him to be here an hour after he’d finished questioning her. She had hoped to talk the superintendent or maybe a maid into letting her inside Victor’s apartment.
“Believe me, I didn’t want to return to this building.” That much was true. Memories of discovering Victor’s infidelity only reminded her of her inability to interest a man in a real relationship. She’d lost fifteen pounds and spent two years figuring out how to make herself look as attractive as one of her showroom windows, and still no luck. She’d nursed the hope that the secret weapon would somehow help her get her personal life on track before the whirlwind of the fall fashion shows, before her chaotic professional life took over again. But now she’d lost the tape before she’d ever had the chance to try it out.
Not that she would have wanted to after what happened with her ex-boyfriend this morning.
When Duke only waited, smiling politely and blocking her path with his broad shoulders and six-foot frame, Amanda explained, “I thought I lost something at Victor’s this morning.” No harm in revealing that, right?
Duke frowned. “I went over it again after you left and didn’t find a wallet or keys or anything. The place is clean.”
Should she tell him it wasn’t a wallet? Maybe he had found her tape and mistaken it for Victor’s.
No. She wouldn’t risk having to explain herself to him, because she sure as heck couldn’t lie to a cop—not after all those years in Catholic school. Maybe she’d dropped the tape on the street. She prayed a yellow cab had already run over it.
And if a stranger on the street picked up the tape, at least they wouldn’t know who she was. She supposed there was a certain comfort in anonymity.
“Oh. Maybe I’ll just look around the elevators and the hallways.” She waited for him to move out of her way, but his fluorescent stars and spiky hair remained firmly in her line of vision.
“I’ll give you a hand. What did you say you lost?” He finally stepped back to clear her path, but his body shadowed hers on one side.
His proximity sang along her nerves and caused her skin to tingle. Apparently her earlier attraction to Duke hadn’t been related to her slinky lingerie or her bubble gum shoes. She’d swathed herself in cashmere and leather after spending six hours in nothing but lace, yet she could still feel the heat of his body right through her heavy clothes.
“Umm…my date book.” She found herself lying in spite of herself. She had all she could do to string words together around this man, let alone keep her secret weapon a secret. “It wasn’t really important anyway.”
He gave her a reproving stare, the kind that would have had her biting her nails this morning. But now that she had her clothes on she didn’t feel quite so intimidated by this man. Mostly she just felt…turned on.
“It must have been important to drag you all the way back here.”
She shook her head, relaxing a bit now that it seemed Duke hadn’t discovered her videotape. She had probably dropped it on the street as she was getting into the cab anyway. “Not as important as I thought. Maybe I did just need to revisit the scene of the crime to sort of process the day.”
Duke studied her, scrubbing his hand over a five o’clock shadow. “What a jerk, huh?” he finally said, as if he’d decided it was okay to talk to her man-to-woman instead of maintaining his detective role. He jammed his fists in the pockets of his pants.
Amanda smiled to think the man might have won out. She’d been curious about—okay, majorly attracted to—Duke from the moment she’d first seen him. “No kidding. Thank God I found out before things got any more serious.” Her cheeks grew hot as she heard herself speak the words. “That is, before we talked anymore about marriage.”
“You were really thinking of marrying that guy?” Duke lowered his voice on the last few words as an older couple strode by them with three yapping lapdogs on their way to the elevator.
Amanda could hardly believe it herself, given what she’d learned about him today. How could she have been so blind about Victor? She’d been so focused on launching her first year of designs, so fixated on succeeding professionally, that she hadn’t paid much attention to her personal relationships.
She shrugged. “We seemed to have a lot in common—our business, our social circles—”
Duke laughed. His eyes darkened and his gaze narrowed. “You only need one thing in common for a marriage, Amanda, and those aren’t it.”
Intrigued, she leaned a bit closer. Was it really the words or the man that drew her? “And what’s that?”
Before he could respond, a group of schoolkids drifted in the front doors.
Duke grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the flow of elevator traffic. He seemed to scout the back of the lobby and, finding it acceptable, he tugged her into a quiet corner by an antiquated snack machine. “All you need is chemistry. I thought everybody knew that.”
Amanda wondered if he realized he still held her hand. The warmth of his palm engulfed her fingers. An innocent touch?
Not on the receiving end. Amanda was rapidly overheating at that small intimacy combined with the nearness of his broad chest, a unique effect of this man.
“I don’t know….” If Duke’s preposterous statement about chemistry was true, Amanda had more reason to marry a stranger like Duke Rawlins than Victor. “I think you need to base a relationship on more than that.”
Duke shook his head, his blue eyes never leaving hers. “Not me. When I find the right chemistry, I’m not going to waste time comparing interests, political parties or astrological signs, I’m just going to jump in with both feet.”
Was it