Fox - Special of the Day

For my mother, Connie Atkins,
who spent my school years
polishing my grammar
and correcting my punctuation,
and without whom
I would never have been able
to embark on this career.

Roxanne Rayeaux raised her hips and let out a little moan. She tilted her head back, exposing her throat, and arched her back, moving one shoulder to release the tangled locks of her long hair from beneath her.

Enveloped in darkness, surrounded by mystery, she had to admit she was nervous. Yes, very nervous.

She bit her bottom lip and reached out, palms sweating, to find the steely shaft in the dark. Cupping it with uncertain hands, she felt its length. Could she find the right spot? She hoped she wouldnt get wet.

She tried to remember the page in the book that had shown this maneuver. She was not at all sure she was in the right position; it certainly didnt feel like the right position. She wasuncomfortable.

Though she would have admitted it to no one, she had never done anything like this before.

If only shed thought to light a candle. She could at least have made sure she wasnt lying down with a rat.

She didnt have a flashlight, not one of her lamps would fit in here, and her body blocked most of the light from the cabinet door.

She was alone under the sink with the pipes. And a more inept plumber shed be hard pressed to find.

Steve Serrano knocked again on the oak-paneled door, then tilted his head to align an eyeball to the opening. A womans shoe kept the door from closing completely, leaving a crack through which to see the inside of the apartment.

Nice furnishings. Some boxes. Classical music on the radio. Or no, he leaned further to the right, on the high-end CD system he could see in the corner against the exposed brick wall.

He pushed on the door and it swung wider.

Hello? he called.

An orange cat bolted from the couch, lit out across the room and disappeared through a door down a short hallway.

Steve stepped inside the apartment. This one was definitely nicer than his, but maybe that was because there were real oriental rugs on the hardwood floor and actual artwork hanging on the walls.

He moved into the living room and put his hands on his hips. This was one high-class woman. Hed seen the truck from his window when shed moved in two weeks ago, but hed never seen her. And hed expected to. Shed just bought the restaurant downstairs in which he worked as a bartender.

He set the bottle of wine hed brought as a welcome gift on a sleek glass-topped coffee table and moved toward the kitchen. She had to be home. Why else would her door have been ajar?

He stopped at the entry to the kitchen, his attention caught by the sight of two long jean-clad legs sticking out from beneath the sink. Above the waistband, where her shirt had hiked up, he saw the jut of a hip bone and the curve of a small waist.

He strode across the black and white tiles to look down the drain opening. There, in the dim light, glowed the pale profile of a woman.

Hey, he greeted mildly.

She gasped, and dropped something loud and metallic beside her.

Damn it, she hissed.

To herself, he thought, though she could have been swearing at him. Then she started to push herself out from inside the cabinet.

As she wriggled from the space he couldnt help noticingobjectively, of coursethat she had a lithe, agile body, if a little on the skinny side. But when her head emerged, complete with a tangled mass of dark hair and black smudges on her forehead and cheek, his breath about left his body.

She wasagain, objectively gorgeous . Maybe the most gorgeous woman hed ever seen in real life.

Even sitting on the floor, covered in dirt, a spiderweb in her hair, she looked like something out of a movie. Her dark eyes flashed above high cheekbones and her mouth was so sensually shaped he couldnt help picturing it sucking strawberries on the big screen.

He almost glanced around to see if someone was playing a joke. As if he might have stumbled into one of those homemaking reality shows, one that pitted beautiful women against average men in some kind of plumbing contest.

She ran one hand across her brow, moving locks of long hair to the side of her face. You scared me.

I, uh, I didnt mean to. The words came out like bricks. Hed never been struck so dumb by a pretty face. I thought you heard me coming.

What, over the music? She threw a hand out toward the sound system. She was over her fright now and clearly getting angry.

Well I was singing along. He couched this with a smile.

Slim, arched brows descended over luscious, inky eyes. Who are you? And what are you doing in here?

He motioned behind him, unable to pry his gaze from her face. The door was open.

And that looked like an invitation to you? Those lips quirked in a sarcastic attractively sarcastic, God help himmanner.

Well, I thought, you know, I had this wine He looked around for it, had forgotten what hed done with it.

She exhaled. Listen, Im not interested, got it? And next time, knock. Though Id appreciate it if there wasnt a next time.

He looked back at her. She had one hand on her hip, clutching a wrench. The other hand was slimed from nails to knuckles with trap grease. Still, she managed to look haughty.

He laughed once. Amazing how beauty could dim with the wrong personality attached to it. Words flooded back to him.

He raised his own brows. No problem, Cinderella. I just thought you should know your door was open.

Oh my God, the cat

Took off for your bedroom. And I brought the wine as a housewarming, though with the chill in here I probably should have brought a case. Im your neighbor from upstairs.

She didnt look abashed, exactly. It was more that she looked less combative.

Oh. All right. Well, thanks

No need to thank me. He held up one hand as if she might get effusive. But Ill know from here on out to leave you alone. You obviously know what youre doing. He let his gaze sweep her from messy hair to greasy hands to dusty pants, a half smile on his face. And its none of my business if you like to leave your door open. He started for the exit. But, for the record? He turned before walking out of view. Im not interested either. Okay?