Animal Attraction

By Genie Davis and Linda Marr

ANIMAL ATTRACTION After being set-up by her boss and lover in a commodities scheme, stockbroker Eva Lloyd’s life has gone to the dogs. Literally.  Inspired by her best friend, a feisty wired haired terrier, she starts a successful dog walking business and puts the past behind her.  Sam Richardson is her newest client – smart, sexy, handsome, and so clearly in love with his dog that against her better judgment, Eva is attracted.  But Sam has his own past; he’s an ex-military vet trying to overcome PTSD who shied away from relationships - until he laid eyes on Eva.  Instantly drawn together, they’re well on their way to putting their problems behind them. Until Sam’s brother shows up. He’s a detective who’s been hired by Eva’s former commodities company - to nail her for millions that were never recovered.  But the more attracted Sam is to Eva, the more he believes she’s an innocent victim who may be in danger.  Actually they’re both in danger – of falling in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: California Press
• Release date: Mar 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507040638

Genie Davis

Genie Davis is a multi-published novelist and produced screen and television writer. Recent releases: the mystery thriller Marathon, and romantic suspense titles including Five O'Clock Shadow, the literary fiction of Dreamtown. Her erotic romance Rodeo Man won an RWA Passionate Plume award.

Book preview

Animal Attraction

Genie Davis and Linda Marr

Published by California Press, 2015.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

ANIMAL ATTRACTION

First edition. March 14, 2015.

Copyright © 2015 Genie Davis and Linda Marr.

Written by Genie Davis and Linda Marr.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

ANIMAL ATTRACTION

About the Author

For our wonderful families and friends - and for everyone who ever wondered why we can never do anything on a Saturday

ANIMAL ATTRACTION

––––––––

Just stop for a minute. Tell me what’s going on, Eva Clarke demanded.

Inside the penthouse, everything was chaos. Outside, voices, heavy footsteps.

And Trip, he wasn’t talking at all; his darkly handsome face was drawn in hard, rigid lines. The tension in the air between them was so thick Eva could’ve cut it with a knife.

She couldn’t stand it. She grabbed Trip’s arm, but he shook her off. Her auburn curls slipped out of the tight chignon she’d styled that morning. Her green eyes flashed, dangerously.

What’s wrong with you?

Trip had opened his safe and he was tossing papers out, jamming them in a shredder. He was acting like a crazy man.

She’d never seen him like this before.

The entire condo was a mess of papers, covering the soft leather sofa, the chrome Vasily chair, and Trip’s glass-topped desk with its 360-degree view of the Hollywood Hills, and the traffic’s ruby tail lights on the 110 freeway. All of Los Angeles lit up and sparkling in the burgeoning twilight. At any other time, Eva and Trip would be relaxing by the window, glasses of Chardonnay in hand, catching the last of the sunset in the west.

She loved those moments with him. Their life at the office was always hectic and busy, but here they just enjoyed being together, gazing out at the city spread below them like they were the queen and king of all that they surveyed. It was a whole different life from the one she’d lived watching her parents struggle to make ends meet. It took a toll on them, they were never happy together. She’d vowed things would be different for her. And they were.

Trip was more than just her boss, far more. They were a well-matched pair, Trip said, partners in crime. She always laughed at that. She loved how powerful they felt together, she’d come a long way from being a small town girl working graveyard shift in a fast food restaurant.

The shredder buzzed and hummed, overheating. Trip snapped his stuffed briefcase shut, and started out of the room.

Eva blocked his path. Damn it, Trip, you weren’t at work today, I come over, you weren’t even going to let me in. Now I can see why - you’re tearing this place apart. No explanation, nothing. What’s going on? And who’s outside the door? Tell me!

But suddenly Trip shoved her aside. Hard. She grabbed the edge of his armoire, but too late. She stumbled and fell on the shiny cherry wood floor. Her shoulder hurt where he pushed her, and her knee ached where she fell. She scrambled up again fast.

Now she was really angry. He actually pushed her. This was the man she loved, who told her how much he loved her. He had no right to treat her this way.

Outside the voices grew louder, or maybe there were just more people now. This was insane.

She grabbed his arm again, holding on hard this time. He wouldn’t shake her off now. Don’t ever touch me like that again. Tell me what’s going on, right now.

His dark hair fell across his face, and as he turned to face her, she could see that his brown eyes were wide, wild, terrified.

Seeing his expression, Eva’s anger faded. Whatever was happening was something beyond her control.

Eva, I’m sorry. But if you don’t want to get hurt, stay out of my way and let me do this. I’ve got to get out of here.

He didn’t sound sorry at all. He didn’t sound like himself. For a moment, it was like she’d entered a different reality. She didn’t know who he was.

Why?

They’re coming for me, he said, his voice clipped. And since you’re here, they’re coming for you, too.

Eva’s heart began to pound. Who is? What are you talking about, Trip? What do they want?

She hated feeling helpless. She was a financier, a commodities pro. A sophisticated woman holding her own in a world of hungry, driven men. A woman strong enough to attract this strong, vital man to her side.

But at this moment, that woman seemed far away. Here she was suddenly dependent on a man she felt was her partner, her equal, who wasn’t even listening to her, who was acting crazy.

There was a loud thump. Trip’s gaze swiveled sharply, and he spun toward the door.

Now there were more and more footsteps, running down the hall.

Eva started to speak, but Trip shook his head, silencing her.

Who’s out there...? she whispered urgently.

He leaned in, I can’t help you, Eva. Save yourself.

She stared at him. From what?

Just yesterday they were planning a weekend cruise to Catalina on his yacht, with lobster and champagne for lunch, and now he was abandoning her? Who was after him? And her, too? She hadn’t done anything. And Trip, what had he done? A sour taste rose up in her throat. It had to have been something.

Trip was already sprinting across the condo, into the kitchen, to the back door that led to the fire exit, and sixteen flights of stairs to the ground.

For a moment she considered following him. Getting far away from whatever was going on in the hall. But how could she? She had her little dog Rosie waiting for her at home.

Someone banged on the front door, no, not someone, something, there was a loud crash - and then the door burst open.

FBI! a man shouted.

The agent threw himself into the room, gun drawn. Four other agents, all of them in navy blue wind breakers with yellow letters blazing FBI on the sleeves, followed him in.

Get down on your knees, the agent yelled at her.

I’m Eva Lloyd, she shouted, I work with Trip Tomason. This is his place.

On your knees! Now, the agent said, ignoring her words.

She did what he told her, and then he was behind her, cuffing her, as the other agents spread out through Trip’s penthouse. Her body stiffened with shock. The FBI was after Trip.

Tomason! the agent asked urgently. Where is he?

I – I don’t know. He left.

How? Where?

Through the kitchen, she said.

The agent cursed under his breath and shouted what Eva told him to the others. She could hear them racing across the kitchen and down the stairs.

Trip had run away and left her behind. She wasn’t scared or worried at all now. She was simply furious. It was obvious. He’d left her to face the consequences of whatever it was that he’d done. There were no bad guys after them. He was the bad guy. And somehow, by association, so was she. What had she gotten herself into, being with Trip? She should’ve known better.

But she loved him. And he said he loved her.

So how could he have really loved her and left her like this? All of a sudden, she wanted to cry, but she blinked the tears away. She didn’t even have a hand free to wipe them from her cheek. She would not let these men see her.

She twisted her body as far as she could to get a look at the agent who’d cuffed her. Why am I handcuffed? What’s going on? She tried to hide the tremor in her voice. She wanted to at least sound like she had some control over this situation.

Eva Lloyd, the agent said, his voice hard and emotionless, you’re under arrest.

Under arrest? Eva interrupted. For what?

...embezzlement. You have the right to remain silent...

Eva didn’t want to be silent. Embezzlement of what?

The agent ignored her and continued to recite her rights. She wanted to scream, to shout. Her mind raced now.

Oh my God, embezzlement. Did she really know Trip at all?

Now she was being yanked to her feet, and pushed unceremoniously toward the door. She was in shock, she could hardly put one foot in front of the other, her feet felt as heavy as lead.

As they neared the elevator, she passed other agents in the hall, talking to each other, watching her. Two other men not in FBI gear, in suits, were standing in the shadows, watching her too, taking notes.

The elevator doors opened, she was pushed inside. Her mouth was dry as dust.

Right before the elevator doors closed, she heard someone speaking into another walkie-talkie. Don’t tell me you lost Tomason, find him. He can’t be far.

Yes, find him, she thought. And let me be alone in a room with him. Whatever questions the FBI had for him, whatever accusations they were making, were nothing compared to the questions and accusations she had for him now.

***

Eighteen months later.

Sam Richardson strolled through the rooms of his new house trying to familiarize himself with it. It wasn’t only that he’d just bought this small bungalow near the beach, it was such a change from the cramped apartment he’d lived in since he got back from his final tour of duty in Iraq. He shoved his just-getting-too-long blonde hair out of his eyes and studied his home with a critical eye.

He had to admit that all his comfortable furniture looked a little shabby in the new place. But not his shelves of books. Those were his pride and joy. He was a rare books dealer by trade, but it hadn’t started out that way.

When he first came back from the service, books were just a lot easier to relate to than people. Being absorbed in someone else’s story, he could almost forget his own. The doctors told him he had PTSD, but he was a tough guy, he didn’t believe in labels. All he knew was that he couldn’t deal with most people. Which led to his divorce two years ago, but also to his growing passion for books. He went to book fairs, used book stores, library sales, and perused online catalogs by the score. He became an expert. Not only at books, but at keeping his PTSD under control.

Now what had once been a safe place to hide had become a profitable profession. One that kept him so busy that he barely had time for the only living being he really related to these days, his German Shepherd Max. Which was why he was forced to hire a dog walker.

He glanced at his watch. She’d be here any minute. He wasn’t looking forward to interviewing her. He could deal perfectly well with his clients, but he still didn’t like too close to people. The result of both his divorce and the PTSD, he supposed. But it couldn’t be helped. He needed someone to take care of Max when he wasn’t around.

He opened the French doors to his postage-stamp-sized back yard, and whistled for Max. Max still seemed to miss the Griffith Park jogging trail near Sam’s old apartment.

Sam always heard how great it was to live at the beach. So he thought he’d give it a try. Certainly the sunsets were nice. But it wasn’t like he could take advantage of the waves, spend his time strolling the Strand, or join a beach volley ball game as busy as he’d become. And he wasn’t sure he cared about any of that anyway.

I hope you don’t mind a few more changes, Max, he said, scratching his dog’s ears. Change is good, so they tell me.

Max wagged his tail. He was always enthusiastic no matter what was being asked of him, unlike most of the people Sam knew.

You believe me, Max? Then I have some swamp land to sell ya. Sam still sometimes had the irrational fear that change meant an Iraqi sniper was around the corner. He knew he had to make himself move forward, but buying this new place had been harder than he’d expected.

The doorbell rang, and Max bounded in front of Sam as he went to answer it. He opened the door, and there she was - the dog walker.

She was a pretty woman with bright green eyes, clad in jeans and a tee shirt, and her auburn hair was pulled back in a soft pony tail. He found he liked her on sight.

Mr. Richardson? she asked.

Yes, but call me Sam.

Sam, then. Nice to meet you. She extended her hand. Eva Lloyd.

As soon as her hand touched his, he felt the strangest sensation. Like he was attracted. What was that about?

It was a long time since he’d even thought about a woman. Although the whole time he was deployed, he’d thought about nothing quite so much as coming home, raising a family; post-divorce he wondered if he was better suited to being more or less alone. Just a man, his books, and his dog.

Pleased to meet you as well, he said, without blinking. But beneath the surface, he was rocked.

And this must be Max. She leaned down and scratched the top of Max’s head. 

Come on in. Sam offered her coffee, and she accepted, following him into the kitchen.

Beautiful weather we’re having, she said. She seemed slightly unsettled. The thought crossed his mind that maybe she felt that same weird attraction thing he had. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

Yeah, Max loves it down here at the beach. I just wish I had more time to spend with him.

Eva dropped down on one knee and stroked Max between his ears. He’s a handsome boy, she said.

We’ve been through a lot together.

Dogs are very loyal. Best friends you could ever have. These guys just never let you down. She gave a short laugh.  Unlike some people.

She seemed to be saying exactly what was often in his own head.

"Yeah, I sometimes wish my