Free The Fashion Police by Sibel Hodge Page A

force. I resigned.’
    ‘I thought it was more a case of resign or get fired.’ He stood up and strolled toward me. ‘And how do you kind of accidentally shoot your boss?’
    I avoided his gaze and took a bigger swig of wine. ‘It was her fault. She shouldn’t have pissed me off.’
    Brad leaned his weight against me, pinning me in between the dishwasher and his hard thighs.
    On second thought, maybe that wasn’t his thighs.
    ‘What will you do to me if I piss you off?’ He cupped my chin in his hand and locked his gaze on mine.
    Uh-oh! Hot flush coming up. My skin tingled and I worried that it might actually be on fire. Why did he have to be so heart-stoppingly gorgeous?
    Then he brushed his lips against mine, and the next thing I knew, we ended up in a full-blown, pretty damned sexy kiss, with lots of tongue action. It was dangerously sexy, in fact. He plunged his hands into my hair, and I could feel his heart beating against mine. I felt as though I was drinking him in – his heart seemed to be beating inside of mine, not outside. Everything else in the room seemed to vanish. It was just me and Brad, the kiss and one heartbeat.
    My brain screamed a warning at me, but the rest of me turned squidgy. I decided to go with the warning and pushed him away. ‘You did piss me off, Brad. Don’t you remember when you disappeared for three months without a word?’ I moved to the other side of the breakfast bar in order to get some distance between us.
    ‘I was doing a job for Special Forces, you knew that.’ He frowned and looked genuinely hurt. Either that or he was doing a good impression of hurt.
    ‘I didn’t know that until you came back. I thought you were dead, for God’s sake.’ I folded my arms and gave him my best cool, detached look. ‘Anyway, it’s ancient history. I’m with Romeo now.’
    He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked down at the floor with an expression that I couldn’t quite work out. ‘I know, Foxy. Believe me, I know.’
    ‘I’m going to bed,’ I told him before the conversation ended up heading somewhere I didn’t want it to. ‘In the spare room,’ I added hastily, climbing up the open wooden staircase to the room next to Brad’s, with Marmalade hurrying along behind me.
    I quickly got ready for bed and crawled in between the Egyptian cotton sheets, but I couldn’t sleep. I touched my lips. I could still feel Brad’s mouth pressed against them. A warm glow pulsed in my cheeks, not to mention other parts. I felt shaky with yearning. What would happen if he did something freaky in the middle of the night? Oh, no! Even worse, what if I enjoyed it? Would that mean I didn’t love Romeo? Or was it really possible to be in love with two people at the same time?
    The rest of the night, I tossed and turned. My brain felt overloaded, and I didn’t sleep except for fits and starts. Giving up, I rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time and glanced at my watch with a groan. Five a.m.
    This is pathetic, Amber, you’re a grown woman. Stop being so ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen.
    Even so, Marmalade and I slipped out of the house at that point, heading back to my apartment to have a cold shower and tidy up before I lost all power to reason.

8
     
    I sat at my coffee-table desk in the Hi-Tec offices, the financial spreadsheets from Fandango’s office scattered out in front of me. I sipped on a super-strength, caffeine-laden coffee, trying to make sense of what I was seeing in front of me. On first glance, the documents looked like legitimate records for sales of Fandango’s fashion collection.  The sales had been made to respectable, legal companies, but six months ago a new client popped up, referred to only as EF.
    ‘What do you make of these?’ I handed them to Hacker.
    He studied them for a while, and then closed his eyes and did some deep breathing.   He stretched his arms out in front of him and cracked his knuckles.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘I’m