Undone by Moonlight

He pushed her away roughly and suddenly, and she glimpsed the fire in his eyes seconds before he spun with a muttered “sorry” before he stalked down the hall, slamming the door behind him.

Breathing hard, Calla stood rigid where he’d left her. Most of her questions were still frustratingly unanswered. She knew he wanted her, but he refused to give into that need. She intended to find out why.

Because friendship was far from the only thing she wanted.

“OKAY, GIRLS,” CALLA said to her best buds via her laptop’s video link. “I’ve got a serious problem here.”

“Let me guess,” Victoria began, then sipped from a coffee mug while the window at her back exhibited a collection of Manhattan high-rises. “Antonio’s in a bad mood.”

Shelby, the Swiss Alps at her back, frowned, her normally golden-hazel eyes dark with concern. “Is he okay, Calla? Why didn’t he come to the wedding?”

“It’s a big, damn mess.”

Calla told her friends the abbreviated version of assault, frame-up and suspension. “We’ve got to help him.”

“Certainly we will,” Shelby said immediately.

“Does he want us to help him?” Victoria asked. “Antonio doesn’t seem like the needy type.”

“He needs us,” Calla insisted, though she knew Victoria was right. “He’s concussed and suspended.”

“And angry, I’ll bet,” Victoria added.

Calla bit her lip. “Actually, he raced out of here, slamming the door behind him, about five minutes ago.” She paused, taking care not to look her friends’ directly in the eye. “Course that might have been because I kissed him.”

“Well, that would—” Shelby leaned forward. “You kissed him?”

“It’s about damn time” was Victoria’s dry comment.

“How did it happen?” Shelby asked.

“He was feeling guilty because he couldn’t remember if we’d slept together or not, and he was holding my hand, which, in retrospect, I don’t think he realized he was doing, and all these feelings welled up inside me—”

Victoria held up her hand. “Hold it. He couldn’t remember if you’d had sex?”

“He was pretty out of it last night,” Calla said.

“Apparently,” Victoria remarked.

“So, anyway,” Calla went on, “I laid one on him, and he seemed really into it, then he suddenly darted out the door.”

Victoria shook her head. “I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again—that guy has issues.”

“You’re not being helpful, V,” Shelby said before she directed her gaze to Calla. “He’s not thinking straight. That’s why he pushed you away. If you want to help him, you’ll have to be persistent. Think of him as an exclusive interview you absolutely have to get.”

Victoria gestured with her mug. “Gotta agree with you there.”

Calla made an effort not to pout, but it was tough. “He’s been doing a pretty good job of avoiding me the last six months.”

“But he does want you,” Shelby said, clearly frustrated. “Anybody can see it. Your timing was just wrong. The first move has got to be perfect.”

“He made plenty of moves last night,” Calla said. “But since he was toasted, I don’t think those count.”

“Sure they do,” Shelby insisted. “His inhibitions were down, so he went with his unvarnished instincts. Be persistent. And when I get home, we’ll triple-team him.” She paused. “No way will this trumped-up assault charge last.”

Calla knew she’d made the right move by calling her friends, even if she had interrupted Shelby’s honeymoon. “I could use the backup. In the meantime, he’s going to need a good attorney. V, can you call your dad for a recommendation?”

Victoria nodded. “I’ll ask, and I’m sure he knows somebody, but he’ll be expensive.”

Calla winced. “I don’t think Devin will have the budget for a highflier.”

“What about that guy you took to V’s Christmas party last year?” Shelby asked.

Victoria scowled. “The one who kept drooling on her rhinestone shoes?”

“That’s him,” Shelby said, undeterred. “Didn’t he leave the public defender’s office to open his own practice?”

“Howard?” Calla asked. “I don’t know. He asked me to marry him on our second date. It took a long time to let him down gently.”

“Speaking of proposals …” Shelby grinned. “How are things with you and Jared, Victoria?”

“Fine,” Victoria said. “No proposals. We agreed.”

Over Labor Day weekend, Victoria had fallen in love with a Montana adventurer. Though wild about her new man, she was also wildly independent and seemed to be struggling with the concept of coupledom.

Victoria shrugged, though her eyes were bright with lust. “In between him dragging me off to Turks and Caicos, we’re—”

“He drags you off to Turks and Caicos?” Shelby interrupted in disbelief.

“Not exactly.” Victoria’s face actually turned pink. “But we go. In between we’re trying to merge our apartments in the city. No easy task, as it turns out. He wants to buy the place next door, so we can knock out a wall, and he can build a man-cave where he can watch football and drink beer. But I remind him that I should have a chick-den where I can do hair and invite over gay guys to give me grooming tips.”

“Who wins?” Calla asked.

“Nobody,” Victoria said. “We argue, have sex then forget what we were arguing about.”

“Sounds like a good thing,” Calla muttered. “Shelby, does Trevor have a man-cave?”

“He has an office. With a minifridge stocked full of sparking water and champagne. I don’t think cavemen ever envisioned the English aristocracy. His decorator’s excellent, though. Course she makes in a month what I do in a year, but our place is beautiful, and she had a commercial-grade Sub-Zero fridge installed in the kitchen, so she’s good in my book.”

“Is her brother, sister, mother, father, cousin or next-door neighbor a lawyer?” Calla asked, wondering how they’d wandered into this tangent.

“Sorry.” Shelby cleared her throat. “Back to Detective Antonio … does this suspension have anything to do with his trouble years ago?”

“I don’t know,” Calla admitted.

“You’re going to have to ask him about it,” Victoria reminded her.

Calla waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” And wouldn’t that be fun? But if she was going to help, she had to have all the facts, no matter how painful.