The Ajay Kavanagh Detective Series on Kindle

Book One:Tapping Darkness

Book Two:Fortune's Lightning

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

First Impressions

Published by Bon Publishing Company in association with Produx House, Corp.

P. O. Box 3847

Ft. Myers,Fl.33918

www. bonpublishing.com

First Impressions

(We know how Ajay felt when he first met Devon, but how did Devon feel?)

He was so big, that he was casting a shadow that covered Devon. Standing at the stoplight and waiting to cross the street, with that muscled man in his black trench coat, right at his back, was unnerving. When he realized that the man was looking down and checking him out, Devon grew even more nervous.

Black hair that was a bit unruly, square jaw, forceful blue eyes under long dark brows, and shoulders that were big enough to indicate a love for weight rooms, hit all of Devon's buttons when it came to simple attraction, but he was in a strange place and not certain of his destination. He could only feel threatened, unsure of the reason for the man's attention. That the man came in a very tempting package, didn't calm those fears.

Devon heard a definite deep breath. The man was smelling him? To be fair, he was wearing an expensive cologne, but he wasn't used to stranger's appreciating it that closely or that obviously.

Personal space, damn it! Devon thought angrily and strode out, when the light changed, to put distance between them. He tried to look tough and assured, ready for anything, but he was well aware that he looked like a white peacock in that drably dressed, old part of down. His white leather jacket and cream colored pants, white ankle boots and big scarf, his golden jewelry and his loosely braided golden hair, didn't leave anyone any doubt, he was sure, that he had money and that women were not on his list of interests.

Caraway street. Devon was relieved to finally find the right street, but the buildings were old. Their windows were shadowed and their brickwork and facades faded and layered in soot from car exhaust. Their addresses were in a similar state, faded, discolored, or simply missing all together. When Devon seemingly missed an address, he frowned, checked his business card again, and then back tracked. The address on the previous building was clearer than most. It said eighteen twenty five. Devon was looking for eighteen twenty six.

Walking down to the next building once again, Devon scowled at the copper plate with its raised black letters that read eighteen twenty nine. When an arm reached past him, and turned the last number around, so that it was a six, and a deep voice said, “Uh, that's actually a six, not a nine, “ Devon jumped in shock and turned quickly around, heart hammering. He recognized the sleeve of that black trench coat.

“Eighteen twenty six,” the man continued with a friendly smile.

Don't show fear, ever. His father might be a bastard, Devon thought, but he had always given good advice. This one, Devon had learned well. He brought himself to order at once and schooled his expression to frigid politeness.

The man was standing very close again. Devon had to look up at him, at the slight black stubble on his chin, at the way his lips curved just so and looked needy for a kiss, at the strong nose and the warm blue eyes that seemed to be drinking Devon into them. There was a definite feeling of kindness about him, Devon thought hazily, of protectiveness.

“Thank you,” Devon managed to say and wasn't able to give it a tone that let the man know that his presence was unwelcome. It was welcome, if he was honest with himself. His friend, Jerry, always the activist and cautionary, would have had a lot to say about Devon's situation. The lecture would have started with, Let me understand, you were attracted to a man who was obviously stalking you?

“I have an office here,” the man said reassuringly, maybe finally understanding that his actions might seem threatening.

The man wasn't stalking him, Devon thought in relief, he wasn't about to be attacked.

“Oh, I see,” Devon replied lamely, as his heart did a strange thump in his chest that had everything to do with the man standing so close to him. “Well, thank you.”

Devon winced inwardly as he edged past the man and entered the building. It was almost as cold as the outside of the building, a heating system either on the glitch or non existent. Devon searched for and found a sign that told him that the office number that he was looking for was upstairs.

When the man followed him up the stairs, Devon felt a slight sliver of doubt, again, but then dismissed it. He couldn't explain his complete faith that his big shadow was harmless, but he felt it all the same. Not only harmless, Devon thought, but damned sexy. With each step his mind supplied him with wanton images of big hands caressing him, a large body holding him gently, but firmly, and the rough stubble chin nuzzling in places that would love that special attention.

Those deep blue eyes had shown their own definite interest, Devon thought confidently. Perhaps, after his meeting with the man that he had come there to employ, he might find the office of his shadow? He would have to find an excuse, some reason for the visit, he thought, but then, as he knocked on an open office door and stepped inside, he decided that he needed to see that man even if he had to be open and honest about his reason. Something about him made Devon feel that he didn't want to miss the opportunity.

A woman with a crew cut, a lab coat, and a no nonsense expression greeted Devon. She looked him up and down.

“Is this the Ajay Kavanagh Investigation Agency?” Devon asked uncertainly.

She smirked and replied,. “This is it, handsome.” She said something else that was flirting and then Devon's shadow was in the room and Devon found out just who had been following him. He was Detective Ajay Kavanagh.

Never mix business with pleasure. That had been pounded into him along with don't show any fear. Devon had wanted to hire a detective for very serious reasons. As he listened to the hectoring back and forth between the man and the woman, he had a two fold reaction. One was Unprofessional. The other was, this is probably his girlfriend. The office was also shabby with its lack of accreditation on the walls and the dead plants on the windowsill. The strikes piled up until Devon could come to only one decision, a decision that surprised him by the way it made his heart clench and his gut feel ill.

Somewhere in their argument, Devon heard himself say, “I'm sorry, I seem to have been misled.

The hectoring argument went on after the woman had a sharp joking rejoinder to Devon's statement. It only confirmed Devon's opinion. He turned to leave, but the big man was suddenly there and calmly apologetic.

“I hope that you understand that she's joking? I assure you that I am a competent investigator.”

He made his argument calmly and, yes, competently and Devon relaxed, his opinion adjusting itself. He could call himself a fool, but it wasn't the man's association with the police department that changed Devon's mind. It was his eyes, looking deeply into Devon's, and the confidence and trust Devon gained from the man's sincere expression. I will solve your case, that expression said, I will protect you. I will treat you gently. I am interested in you. The last was as certain as the sun rising in the morning. It wasn't about his exceptional good looks, either, Devon felt. It was much more. What that more was, Devon found himself eager to find out.

Devon reached out and shook Ajay's big hand firmly. “My name is Devon Temple.”

The end.