Page 55 of Miki

Damn it! Seriously?

The shift was nearly over, and I’d already completed my paperwork. I was supposed to be heading to Miki’s later tonight to discuss all of our information. But after he’d started the texts that quickly turned into sexts, my lady parts were all hot and bothered, and I was ready to head over there the minute I was free and explore some of those possibilities he’d just hinted at.

“Hurry up!” the Sarge shouted again.

Shit!

Why me? I pouted in annoyance. He usually partnered with Steve.

This was so unfair.

After sending a quick message to let Miki know the situation, I grabbed my stuff and ran to catch up with the Sarge.

“Where’s Steve?” I asked as we headed to the location.

“He had to pick up his kid from school. His wife’s sick,” he replied.

Great! That explained why I got the privilege of staying late. Oh joy! As if the day hadn’t been long enough.

I creaked my neck and rubbed it. My shoulders ached with tension, and I badly needed to relax. Preferably with a sexy Russian man with a body to die for and lips that could almost make me come just by thinking about them. A rush of liquid in my knickers was a testament to that.

Oops! This was hardly the time or the place to get horny.

Get a grip, Eilidh! I chided myself. I had to stay alert and not let thoughts of Miki distract me. Not when I was with one of the bastards I was investigating. Things were hard enough as it was.

My thoughts drifted back to the day I’d just had.

Spending almost all the shift in a car with Martin had been awful, so when we’d returned to the station to finish our paperwork; I was so bloody relieved.

I’d been hyperaware of everything he’d said and did all day, looking for clues in his behaviour which would let me know if he really was aware of my investigation.

Martin had looked at me a lot and flirted outrageously. None of which was unusual.

Although nothing in his demeanour hinted at him knowing what I was up to, the tension I felt in his presence made me ill.

Every second with the guy was torture. My nerves were frayed from trying to appear normal and not show how much I longed to hit the fuck over the head with my baton.

When I approached my desk and saw the enormous bouquet of red roses that awaited me, it was just the distraction I’d needed.

As I read the card that was with it, I couldn’t contain my grin.

Roy, the slimy toad, slithered up to my side.

“Someone’s got an admirer!” he said, and attempted to read the card, but I slipped it into my pocket before he could.

Ignoring him, I bent and sniffed the flowers. Their fragrance calmed me.

“So, who’s my rival?” Martin asked, in a tone that made my eyes shoot to his face.

There was a glint in his eye that hinted at jealousy, but the smile on his face was pleasant. I thought I must have been mistaken when he waggled his eyebrows.

Martin had enough women falling at his feet. He was a player. He wouldn’t care that I wasn’t interested in him, and he certainly wouldn’t give two hoots if someone was interested in me. Or at least that was what I told myself.

“Well, are you going to tell us who they’re from?” Roy asked, standing close enough to make me feel uncomfortable.

Roy often invaded my personal space. He had done it since I was a child, and I was used to it. It had never bothered me before.

After all, we’d been close, and he’d always acted like the doting uncle as I grew up. Swinging me around, lifting me onto his shoulders, giving me piggyback rides and stuff like that when I was really young.

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