took off up the stairs
and through her apartment, after the intruder. “No worries,” Poppy muttered, crossing her arms over the front of
her body in a useless attempt to cover herself, suddenly thankful for the fact
that she had no neighbors. Rafe came through the front door several minutes later, breathing hard,
and talking into his cell phone. “Thanks, Richard, just have the guys keep an
eye out for him. He was wearing gloves, so I don’t think you’re going to
get any prints.” “Who are you talking to?” Poppy asked, baffled. “The night sergeant at the Port Rollins Police Department. I used
to be a cop there. The police will be here in a few minutes. What happened? Did
he hurt you?” His brown eyes gleamed fiercely and he spoke in a low
growl. Poppy imagined that being on Rafe’s bad side would be a very dangerous
place to be. She shivered, hugging herself. “I heard him opening the kitchen window while I was changing to
get in the shower. I ran out of the apartment in my underwear.” She
glanced down at herself ruefully. “I should have moved faster. I should have
grabbed a blanket. I should have –“ “Don’t, Poppy. Don’t blame yourself. You’re the victim here.
You’ve done nothing wrong.”
He gathered her in his muscular arms, and she melted against him.
He was warm, and strong, and tall, and she felt enveloped in his protective
embrace. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. His arms tightened around her, and she felt his fingers caressing
her hair, tangling in her golden curls. The world vanished, and there was
only the two of them, and his warmth enfolding her, and the thudding of her
heart reverberated against the broad, muscular wall of his chest. Then he slowly pulled away, his big hands resting on her
shoulders. “I hear the cops pulling up out front. Let’s get you back inside and
get some clothes on.” “Oh, my God!” Poppy cried out, panicked. “I’m standing on the
stairway nearly butt naked!”
“Hey, I’m not complaining about the view.” He slid a finger under
her chin and tipped her head up to look him in the eyes, and she nearly melted
into a puddle of lust at his feet. She stifled a moan and pressed her legs
together tightly. “But we can save that for later.” And he grabbed her by the hand and led her back up the stairs to
her apartment, staying in front of her the whole way, protectively. Save that for later? What did he mean by that? What did he want
from her?
She didn’t have time to think about it right now. Inside the
apartment, she rummaged through the suitcase she hadn’t unpacked yet, and
frantically threw on a flowered pink blouse and pink harem pants right before
two uniformed officers came in the door. They greeted Rafe by name, and then took Poppy’s report, which was
unfortunately all too brief. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man; she
couldn’t even tell them what race he was.
“You need
better security on that window,” one of them told her. “I could jimmy that open
with a butter knife. I’d put an alarm system in here too. Maybe have a
friend come sleep with you until you can make this place a little safer.” “Hey, Ben,” Rafe said. “Could you just confirm to my friend Poppy
here that I used to work with Port Rollins finest?” “Of course,” Ben said, grinning at Poppy. “He was a moderately
talented sergeant in the detective divi-ouch! Very talented!” He rubbed his arm
ruefully where Rafe had just punched him, gave Rafe a friendly wave, and
followed his partner out of her apartment, shutting the door behind him. “What are you even doing here?” Poppy asked, puzzled, as Rafe
turned the deadbolt behind them. “I figured I’d come here after work so I could talk to you without
your guard dog buddy running interference. I tried to come to the shop
today to tell you – that woman who came in the store yelling at me is my
brother’s future wife. Maybe. They’ve broken off the
A Hundred or More Hidden Things: The Life, Films of Vincente Minnelli