Vixen Healed (Vintage Vixen 2)
She removed her hands from his chest and pulled him close, hugging his heavy body to her.
“Love you, Claire.”
“Love you too. Oh God!” His chest rose, fell, and stilled.
“Campbell!”
Chapter One
Eight years later
“You know Charles’ son will be joining us for dinner. The two of you have plenty in common, perhaps you’ll hit off?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Mom, how many times do I have to tell you to stop matchmaking? I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and even if I was, our tastes differ greatly.”
Her mother huffed. “When are you going to grow out of this rebellious stage? The tattoos, Vintage Vixen, and that God aw
ful Roller Derby League.” She could picture her mother’s heart-shaped face, distorted by a wrinkled nose and deep frown. When she was displeased she always looked like she’d smelled something rotten and eaten something bitter at the same time.
“I guess they do now, because I am. We’ve been over this before. I’m done with hiding who I am because of the standards you and Father choose to live by. The store is successful. The way I dress and the tattoos I have are an expression of who I am. My soul inked and embedded on my skin. I wish I could get you to understand that. I’m happy, and I intend to stay that way.”
She’d taken Campbell’s words to heart after he died in her arms. Stood up to her parents for the first time in her life, remained on her own, and pursued her dreams. Groomed from the time she was born to bring honor to her family, always present a polished, posh front, and obey her parents, she’d been a weak-willed woman, drowning under the weight of expectations and family tradition. That woman was a thing of the past, and as far as Claire was concerned, she’d stay that way. At first her parents assumed her metamorphosis was a reaction to the robbery, a way to deal with the loss of Campbell. When it continued longer than they deemed appropriate the disagreements started.
“You can’t be happy, darling. You’re not even thirty, much too young to be a spinster.”
“Not everyone wants to get married, Mom.”
“Maybe not, but I am your mother. I remember those elaborate weddings you put on with your Barbie’s, and you’ve always wanted children.”
“Things change.” Beep. She peered down at the phone number displayed on her screen and frowned. “I have a call on the other line, Mom, I have to go. I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
A heavy sighed sounded. “Okay dear, we’ll see you then.”
They disconnected, and Claire clicked over to the other line.
“Hello?”
“Is this Claire Reading?” a monotone voice asked.
“Yes? Who is this?”
“This is Detective Kelly Quinn, from the San Diego police department. We think we’ve found a link back to the robbery case you were involved in eight years ago. One of our perps fits the description you gave.” Her mind went blank. Visions of a dark-haired man with stormy gray eyes, high cheekbones, and large hands filled her brain. When her world spiraled out of control his strength had anchored her.
“Ma’am, are you there? Hello.”
“Yes, yes. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t expect that.”
“It’s perfectly understandable. It’s been sometime since we last spoke.”
“I’m glad you found new evidence. He—” Her voice cracked. “My fiancée, Campbell, deserves justice.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure that happens, Ms. Reading.” The voice was softer now and held more emotion.
“When should I come down?”
“When would you be next available?”
“Can we do it today?”