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Author: Rita Herron
pieces of fudgecake for dessert. He had run from her house before she'd even gotten out of the shower.
"Casey?" Jenna's voice penetrated the fog of fury wrapping itself around Casey.
Casey exhaled a sharp breath. "Jenna, can you keep Henry S. this morning?"
"Sure," Jenna said. "What is it? Is something wrong? You sound strange."
Casey smiled to herself and stood. That was exactly how Gabe Thornton had described her for the people of Atlanta to read while they sipped their morning coffee.
"No. Nothing's wrong," Casey said in a calm voice. She scraped the newspaper up and folded it neatly, tucking it underneath her arm. "I just figured out how I can reach Gabriel Thornton. I'm going to pay him a little visit."
"Oh, wow," Jenna said. "You're going to chew a chunk out of him, aren't you?"
Casey wrapped the phone cord around her fingers and grinned wickedly. Gabriel Thornton had had nightmares about the tattoo artist tattooing his butt.
Just wait until she got through with his behind.
Chapter 2
She looked sexy.
She felt wicked.
She intended to get revenge.
Casey adjusted the strap of her black lace bra, then dabbed a hint of her favorite perfume between her breasts. After generously applying a layer of peach-scented lotion over her legs, she pulled on sheer black stockings, snapped her garter belt into place, slid her feet into black heels, and zipped the black silk dress. Dressed to kill.
Her target: Gabe Thornton.
She glanced in the mirror and a sparkle gleamed in her eyes as her plans unfolded in her mind. She'd brushed her shoulder-length blonde hair until the natural luster glistened and left it loose around her shoulders, feathering a few wispy strands down for bangs. The style enhanced her heart shaped face and her big eyes. She added subtle make-up and accessories. A simple small ruby pendant dangled around a thin gold chain and fell into the curve of her breasts exposed by the v-cut of the dress.
"He'll never recognize me," Casey muttered. She sashayed back and forth in front of the mirror, practicing her best seductive walk and chuckled at herself. For heaven's sake, how could he recognize her? She barely recognized herself.
Normally dressed for playing with Henry S. or for researching her children's books, jeans and sweatshirts were her typical attire. She'd bought this dress specifically for Gabe Thornton and their first date. But he hadn't seen the dress last night.
Because he'd never showed.
At least not as Gabe Thornton.
She grimaced, shoulders drooping as humiliation burned through her. She'd been an assignment to him. A joke. In high school, kids had ridiculed her for being an orphan. His little undercover work had resurrected memories and insecurities she thought long buried.
Well, she'd teach him a thing or two about jokes, because she planned to have the last laugh.
* * *
Gabe accepted praise and shoulder pats for his article, amazed at the amount of attention the fluff piece had drawn. Reporting facts and chasing down crimes didn't bring out his creativity the way this article had. Maybe he'd write a few more.
A tiny flash of guilt niggled at him when he realized he'd forgotten to call Casey and deliver an excuse for standing her up. He'd been so damn tired last night he'd almost fallen asleep at the wheel on his way home. He'd typed the article and faxed it to the office to meet the morning deadline, then crawled into bed and crashed.
Now, here he sat contemplating the ABC case. When he'd first seen Casey's ad, he'd been suspicious of it and even bragged to Lieutenant Harper, his friend at the police department, that he might have a lead. But after meeting Casey, he'd told him it was a deadend.
Casey might be nuts, but she wasn't a criminal.
Chaos in the outer office drew his gaze, and he peered through the glass window of his office. The word thunderstruck came to mind. Reporters, all male, hovered around the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on. She smiled and Gabe's gut
"Casey?" Jenna's voice penetrated the fog of fury wrapping itself around Casey.
Casey exhaled a sharp breath. "Jenna, can you keep Henry S. this morning?"
"Sure," Jenna said. "What is it? Is something wrong? You sound strange."
Casey smiled to herself and stood. That was exactly how Gabe Thornton had described her for the people of Atlanta to read while they sipped their morning coffee.
"No. Nothing's wrong," Casey said in a calm voice. She scraped the newspaper up and folded it neatly, tucking it underneath her arm. "I just figured out how I can reach Gabriel Thornton. I'm going to pay him a little visit."
"Oh, wow," Jenna said. "You're going to chew a chunk out of him, aren't you?"
Casey wrapped the phone cord around her fingers and grinned wickedly. Gabriel Thornton had had nightmares about the tattoo artist tattooing his butt.
Just wait until she got through with his behind.
Chapter 2
She looked sexy.
She felt wicked.
She intended to get revenge.
Casey adjusted the strap of her black lace bra, then dabbed a hint of her favorite perfume between her breasts. After generously applying a layer of peach-scented lotion over her legs, she pulled on sheer black stockings, snapped her garter belt into place, slid her feet into black heels, and zipped the black silk dress. Dressed to kill.
Her target: Gabe Thornton.
She glanced in the mirror and a sparkle gleamed in her eyes as her plans unfolded in her mind. She'd brushed her shoulder-length blonde hair until the natural luster glistened and left it loose around her shoulders, feathering a few wispy strands down for bangs. The style enhanced her heart shaped face and her big eyes. She added subtle make-up and accessories. A simple small ruby pendant dangled around a thin gold chain and fell into the curve of her breasts exposed by the v-cut of the dress.
"He'll never recognize me," Casey muttered. She sashayed back and forth in front of the mirror, practicing her best seductive walk and chuckled at herself. For heaven's sake, how could he recognize her? She barely recognized herself.
Normally dressed for playing with Henry S. or for researching her children's books, jeans and sweatshirts were her typical attire. She'd bought this dress specifically for Gabe Thornton and their first date. But he hadn't seen the dress last night.
Because he'd never showed.
At least not as Gabe Thornton.
She grimaced, shoulders drooping as humiliation burned through her. She'd been an assignment to him. A joke. In high school, kids had ridiculed her for being an orphan. His little undercover work had resurrected memories and insecurities she thought long buried.
Well, she'd teach him a thing or two about jokes, because she planned to have the last laugh.
* * *
Gabe accepted praise and shoulder pats for his article, amazed at the amount of attention the fluff piece had drawn. Reporting facts and chasing down crimes didn't bring out his creativity the way this article had. Maybe he'd write a few more.
A tiny flash of guilt niggled at him when he realized he'd forgotten to call Casey and deliver an excuse for standing her up. He'd been so damn tired last night he'd almost fallen asleep at the wheel on his way home. He'd typed the article and faxed it to the office to meet the morning deadline, then crawled into bed and crashed.
Now, here he sat contemplating the ABC case. When he'd first seen Casey's ad, he'd been suspicious of it and even bragged to Lieutenant Harper, his friend at the police department, that he might have a lead. But after meeting Casey, he'd told him it was a deadend.
Casey might be nuts, but she wasn't a criminal.
Chaos in the outer office drew his gaze, and he peered through the glass window of his office. The word thunderstruck came to mind. Reporters, all male, hovered around the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on. She smiled and Gabe's gut
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