Aphrodite's Passion by Julie Kenner Read Free Book Online Page B

do than watch this creep try to clean himself. After all, he’d come all the way to Los Angeles on a really good tail-wind so that he could spend the evening keeping Tracy Tannin under surveillance. Considering how intrigued he was by the girl, Hale was more than happy to trade punishing Leon for watching her.

    Utter and complete mortification. No other words described how Tracy felt. If she could have dissolved into the asphalt, she would have, but unfortunately, her dissolving skills were sadly lacking. The best she could do was lie prostrate on the pavement, and somehow that just wasn’t the same.
    She checked the inside of the Paws In Production trailer, then remembered that Mel was still at her meeting. Missy was all alone, eating kibble in her kennel.
    “Hey, little girl,” Tracy said, unlocking the cage then patting her leg. Missy trotted to the edge of the second-tier cage, sniffed the air, then presented Tracy with a hopeful glance.
    “No way, kiddo. It’s barely two feet. You can jump down.”
    The little con artist whined, then flopped onto her belly, her paws in front of her and her eyes soulful.
    “Oh, you’re a ham.” Tracy tapped her foot and waited for Missy to come to her senses. Naturally, the dog didn’t. “Fine.” She scooped the fluffball up, closed and locked the cage, then headed out of the trailer to her car.
    “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”
    Missy whined, and Tracy felt absolutely certain it was a sound of apology.
    “It’s been a horrific day,” Tracy said as she opened the passenger door and set Missy inside. “I think we deserve a treat. What do you think?”
    At the word
treat
, Missy opened her mouth and let loose a high-pitched
arf
of agreement.
    “Good. Because I’m thinking ice cream’s on the agenda.” Lots of ice cream. Bucketsful. No,
gallons-
fu
ll
. Which, of course, raised the age-old question. How many spoonfuls of ice cream does it take to cure a really bad day?
    Tracy had absolutely no idea, but she intended to find out.
    She slid into the driver’s seat of her ancient Nova and waited for Missy to quit gnawing at the fur of her thigh. As soon as the dog was settled, Tracy cranked the engine, ready to head for Ventura Boulevard and some chocolate chocolate-chip.
    Nothing.
    She cranked again.
    Still nothing.
    Either her battery was dead, or cosmic forces were conspiring to keep her away from frozen confections. Considering she had no intention of giving in to the cosmos, she assumed the problem was merely a dead battery.
    What an annoyance. Still, when you got right down to it, wasn’t that pretty much what she expected today?
    She popped the hood and got out of the car, leaving the door open in case Missy wanted to hop out and sniff around. Tracy had never been able to make heads or tails out of the mechanical mess under the hood of a car, and today wasn’t any exception. Considering her troubles in the past, the battery was probably dead, which meant she’d have to find someone to jump-start it. But since the lot was empty, “someone” probably translated to the Auto Club.
    Rummaging in her purse, she located her cell phone under a bag of doggie treats. Unfortunately, she didn’t have nearly as much luck finding her Auto Club card.
    Fine. No problem. She’d just call information, get the number, then wait on hold for a million years while they looked her up in the system. What else could go wrong?
    Just as she started to dial, Missy started barking like crazy. Tracy turned around, intending to glare at the dog, and found herself glaring instead into the most gorgeous pair of Paul Newman eyes she’d ever seen.
    “Oh!” Through sheer luck, she managed not to drop her cell phone. Her jaw wasn’t nearly as cooperative, and she fought to reassemble her face into some sort of expression that didn’t scream
lust! Woman who never gets any right here
!
    “Problem?” The man’s deep, smooth voice was just as easy on her ears as the rest of him