Extreme Measures

by Brenda Harlen

  She picked up the remote and punched the power button. Her easy familiarity with the device reassuring him a little, Colin turned his attention to unpacking. He'd just begun transferring his clothes from the suitcase to the dresser when his cell phone rang. Moving to the doorway of the bedroom to keep an eye on his daughter, he connected the call.

  "I just wanted to give you the heads-up before you hear it on the news," Detective Brock told him.

  "Hear what?" he asked warily.

  "Duncan Parnell has escaped from police custody."

  "What? How?"

  "He was being transported to a psychiatric facility for assessment earlier today when the van he was riding in was involved in a collision. Somehow, Parnell got out.

  "It's only been a few hours," Brock continued. "And we've put out a state-wide APB so I don't think he'll get too far, but I thought you should know."

  "I appreciate it," he said.

  "I'll be in touch as soon as we have any more information."

  Colin nodded and hung up the phone.

  He returned to the task of unpacking and wondered how to break the news to Nikki. He knew he should tell her about Brock's call, just as he knew he couldn't do it. She'd been reluctant to let him move in here to begin with; this news would be the ammunition she needed to terminate the arrangement. And any hope he had of building a relationship with his daughter would be destroyed.

  He would never have suggested staying here if he'd thought his presence would put Nikki and Carly at risk. But he'd believed, after the second bombing in Baltimore, that he was safe here. There was no reason to believe any different just because Parnell was on the run.

  All he could do now was wait, trust the police to track down Parnell and pray that he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life in moving into his ex-wife's house.

  Almost two hours passed before there was a knock on the back door. Arden had gone out for a meeting with a client, and Nikki had spent most of those two hours pacing and worrying. It was ridiculous. She knew it, but she couldn't stop it.

  When she opened the door for Colin and Carly, the sense of relief was almost overwhelming. She checked the urge to pull her daughter into her arms and merely smiled.

  "All the unpacking done?" she asked.

  Carly nodded. "An' we watched Cosmic Cat."

  "I wasn't sure if that old television still worked," Nikki said.

  "It gets about three channels," Colin said. "But I had to take Carly's word for it that the cat is orange. He looked kind of green to me."

  "She," Nikki corrected automatically.

  "She—who?"

  "The cat," Nikki explained. "Cosmic Cat is a girl." Not that it mattered, in the large scheme of things, but she didn't know what else to say. She didn't know how to make casual conversation when there was so much tension between them, when just the memory of his kiss was enough to make her blood heat, her nerves jolt.

  "Oh." Colin's response indicated that he was having just as much trouble with the whole conversation thing as she was.

  "Uncle Colin said we can have pizza for dinner," Carly said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen.

  "//it's okay with your mom," he reminded her.

  "Oh. Yeah," Carly agreed. "Is it, Mommy? Can we have pizza?"

  Nikki had already put chicken in the oven, but she knew Carly would rather have pizza. She wasn't going to be the villain by denying the request, but at the first opportunity she was going to talk to Colin about this. She couldn't afford to compete with him if he started trying to buy Carly's affections with her favorite foods and gifts, and it wouldn't be healthy for their daughter, either.

  "Yes, you can have pizza," she agreed.

  "Goody!"

  "What do you like on your pizza, Squirt?" Colin asked.

  "Pep'roni and mushrooms."

  "Nic? Do you still like pineapple and olives?"

  "Yes, but don't—"

  "I'm making an effort here," Colin interrupted her. "I thought it would be nice if we could all sit down and have dinner together."

  She pushed aside the instinctive hesitation. If he was willing to make an effort, she could at least do the same. "Okay."

  Twenty minutes later she sat with a slice of pizza in front of her, wondering how it had happened that she was sharing a meal with her ex-husband and their daughter. Carly was chattering away about anything and everything, for which Nikki was grateful. She still didn't know what to say to Colin, how to bridge the awkwardness between them—or even if she wanted to. The adversity was easier to deal with than the attraction.

  And she was still attracted to him. The kiss they'd shared in Shaun's kitchen when she'd agreed to this crazy living arrangement proved it. Just as the fact that she'd agreed to this crazy living arrangement proved that his kiss had completely short-circuited her brain.

  Neither of them had said a word about that kiss, but the knowledge of it was there—hanging between them like a web. Waiting to ensnare them again.

  "Nic?"

  She started. "Sorry?"

  "I asked if your pizza was okay. You've barely touched it."

  "Oh." She picked up the slice. "Yeah, it's fine."

  "Do you want some of mine, Mommy? It has mushrooms."

  "No, thanks," Nikki said quickly.

  "Your mom doesn't like fungus," Colin told Carly, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper.

  "What's fungus?" Carly whispered back.

  "It's another word for mushrooms," he explained.

  "Just tell her they're mushrooms," she suggested, still whispering. "Maybe then she'll like them."

  Colin grinned at the child's logic. "I think she'd still know they're fungus."

  Carly considered, then nodded. "Just like I know caulifwower isn't white broccli. But that's what Mommy tells me to get me to eat it."

  "Do you like broccoli?" Colin asked.

  Carly nodded. "But not caulifwower."

  "What does your mom say when you don't eat your cauliflower?"

  "She says I'm just like my daddy. And that I can't have any chocate-chip cookies until I eat all my vegables."

  Nikki's attention was focused on her half-eaten slice of pizza, but she could feel Colin's head rivet in her direction in response to Carly's explanation.

  "You must really like chocolate-chip cookies," he said after a long pause.

  Carly nodded. "Sometimes I even help Mommy make them."

  "Do you like them enough to eat all your cauliflower?"

  Carly cast a quick glance across the table at her mother, then shook her head and mumbled something.

  "What was that?" Colin asked.

  "She said that Arden eats her cauliflower," Nikki told him.

  Carly's mouth dropped open in surprise; Colin chuckled.

  The warm, rich sound of his laughter stirred something inside Nikki. Something that didn't want to be stirred.

  "If you come for dinner, you could eat my caulifwower," Carly whispered to Colin.

  Colin grinned at her. "I don't like cauliflower, either."

  Carly sighed. "Then Auntie Arden will have to eat yours, too."

  After they'd finished eating and the leftover pizza had been put away, Colin knew he should be heading back to his new—and empty—apartment. But he wasn't anxious to go. He'd enjoyed the time he'd spent with his daughter, and with Nikki, too. The tension between them had seemed to ease a little over dinner, although he knew it was still there. Maybe it always would be.

  "Okay, Carly. Time to get ready for bed," Nikki said.

  "Can Uncle Colin give me my bath?" Carly asked.

  The absolute panic must have shown on his face because Nikki laughed.

  "Ever bathed a four-year-old?" she asked him.

  He shook his head. "Before yesterday, I hadn't spent ten minutes with a four-year-old."

  "I'm four and a half," Carly said indignantly.

  "And you need a bath," Nikki told her.

  Carly looked up at him again, her deep green ey
es pleading.

  "Your mom probably wants me to go home so that she can get you ready for bed," Colin said, providing Nikki with a gracious out.

  "Maybe Uncle Colin can watch you have your bath," she suggested. "Then he'll be able to make an informed decision the next time you ask for his help."

  Surprised by the offer, Colin nodded. "If you're sure you don't mind my staying a little longer."

  Nikki shrugged, as if his decision didn't matter to her one way or the other, and turned to go upstairs to the bathroom.

  The bath routine seemed simple enough, except that

  Carly liked to make big waves in the water with her array of plastic fish and whales and turtles. By the time Nikki plucked her out of the tub and wrapped her in a thick, terry towel, there was more water on the floor and him and Nikki than there was left in the tub.

  Nikki rubbed the towel over Carly briskly, sprinkled her front and back with baby powder, and dressed her in a pair of pajamas with Cosmic Cat on them. Then Carly crawled into bed where a stuffed Cosmic Cat—her favorite toy, or so Shaun had told him—was waiting by her pillow. Beside Cosmic Cat was Emma, the doll he'd bought for her. A pretty little doll with soft blond hair and green eyes like his daughter.

  Carly got a big hug and a kiss from her mom, then looked at him expectantly. "Kiss, Uncle Colin."

  He smiled and bent over the bed, wondering why it was so easy and natural for her to give and receive affection. Grateful that it was, because he'd quickly learned that there was no feeling in the world like holding his little girl in his arms.

  "Night, Squirt."

  "Night," she said, her eyelids already closing.

  Colin followed Nikki out of the room, watched as she folded the towel she'd used after Carly's bath and hung it to dry.

  "I should get out of your hair now," he said.

  "If you're not in a hurry, we could take a few minutes to discuss my schedule and your plans with Carly for the week," Nikki offered.

  "Okay." Was it reluctance to go back to an empty apartment that caused him to leap at her invitation, an unwillingness to be alone with his thoughts of Duncan Parnell and homemade bombs, or a desire to spend more time with Nikki?

  "Do you want a cup of coffee?" Nikki asked.

  "Sure," Colin agreed, feeling a little chilled from the dampness of his clothes against his skin. Damp? He leaned over the kitchen sink to wring the water out of his sleeve.

  "I warned you it was an experience." Nikki's lips twitched as she watched him roll back the sodden cuffs of his sweatshirt.

  "That you did," he agreed. Anything else he might have said stuck in his suddenly dry throat when his eyes dipped to the front of her blouse. Her white, very wet, blouse.

  Apparently unaware of his perusal, Nikki busied herself measuring coffee into the filter.

  He tried to divert his focus, really he did. But he could see the lacy pattern of her bra and the outline of her nipples as they strained against the fabric. All he could think about was how completely her breasts filled his palms; how she'd gasp in pleasure when his thumbs stroked the rosy peaks; how she'd writhe beneath him when he suckled. He didn't want to think of those things, but it was a miracle he could think at all with the blood in his head migrating south. And when all he wanted was to get his hands on her.

  Oh, this was not good.

  When he'd first learned about Carly, he'd thought he'd never forgive Nikki for her deception. He still wasn't sure if he did. But he'd been right when he'd told Nikki that the attraction he felt for her existed separate and apart from everything else.

  That attraction continued to endure, and it continued to torture him.

  "Um … Nic…"

  She glanced up as she finished filling the reservoir with water. No doubt she was wondering why he sounded as if he was going to choke on his tongue. "What's wrong?"

  "I—you—" He was stumbling over his words like a toddler in his first pair of skates. "Can you go change your shirt?" He cleared his throat. "Please?"

  She glanced down and gasped as she noticed the wet splotches on the front of her blouse. The wet splotches he'd been trying desperately—and unsuccessfully—to tear his gaze away from for the past several minutes.

  Her cheeks flooded with color, then she turned and fled from the room. Colin leaned back against the counter, determined to get his raging hormones under control before Nikki returned. Except that he knew she was now in her bedroom, peeling the wet garment from her body, maybe even slipping out of the bra. He could picture, all too clearly, the satiny perfection of her skin.

  He groaned in frustration. What the hell was the matter with him? He was thirty-four years old—too old to be getting aroused by the sight of a woman in a wet shirt.

  He shook his head, wondering how to get that point across to his erection.

  Nikki peeled off the wet blouse and bra, trying not to think about the blatant hunger she'd seen in Colin's eyes, the answering heat that had spread through her veins.

  How was it possible to want him so much when he was threatening the stability of her whole world?

  She wrenched open the top drawer of her dresser, then remembered that she hadn't brought up the laundry she'd done the previous evening. Which meant she had to either put the wet bra back on or go without one. She opted for the latter, and an oversize dark T-shirt. Now all she had to do was go back downstairs, discuss Carly's schedule over a quick cup of coffee, and get Colin out of her house before she did something to really embarrass herself—like jump his bones.

  She returned to the kitchen just as the coffee finished brewing. Relieved to have something to do, she busied herself getting cups out of the cupboard.

  "I work three full days—Monday, Tuesday, Thursday. Mornings on Wednesday and Friday." She spoke casually, as if she'd never fled from the kitchen.

  "What time do you start?" Colin asked, and Nikki exhaled a sigh of relief that he'd so willingly picked up the thread of their conversation.

  "My first patient usually comes in for eight o'clock, which means I have to leave here by seven-thirty."

  "Seven-thirty," Colin echoed, sounding a little less enthused about the prospect and earning a small smile from Nikki.

  "Think of it as early-morning practice," she teased, handing him one of the mugs.

  "Is Carly awake at that hour?"

  "Only if I have to get her up for school or day camp."

  "One more reason not to go to day camp," Colin muttered.

  "Just be here at seven-thirty," she said. "You can crash on the sofa until Carly wakes up."

  Nikki sipped her coffee, winced. She must have lost count of the scoops as she measured out the grounds because it was strong enough to wake up a corpse. She moved back to the counter to add some more cream, and when she turned around, her shoulder bumped against Colin's chest. The mug slipped out of her hand and bounced on the counter, spilling coffee all over.

  She swore under her breath and grabbed a handful of paper towels to mop up the mess. At least the cup hadn't broken. Colin picked up the now-empty mug and set it aside, then put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  "You're tense." He murmured the words softly, seductively, as his fingers began to knead her tight trapezius muscles.

  "I'm fine," she snapped.

  "I'll bet I could help you release some of that tension." The words were filled with promise and temptation.

  "I just need to get some sleep." She hadn't slept well since he'd come back to town, and hardly at all last night after agreeing to his ridiculous plan to move in downstairs.

  Obviously she'd been right to be apprehensive. He'd been on the premises less than twelve hours and her nerves were already stretched so tight it was a wonder they didn't snap—and fling her right into his arms.

  "Sleep isn't quite what I had in mind," he said.

  She stepped away from him, forcing his hands to drop from her shoulders. "I have things to do, Colin. I'll see you in the morning."

  He til
ted his head, considering. "Does that usually work?"

  Nikki frowned. "Does what work?"

  "The cool attitude, the quick dismissal."

  He moved forward again, slowly, steadily, and slipped his arms around her waist. She felt her breath quicken as her internal temperature rose about twenty degrees.

  "I imagine it might be effective on a lot of guys, but I know you, Nic. I know there's heat beneath the ice."

  Heat? If he didn't stop looking at her like that, she was going to spontaneously combust.

  "How long do you figure it will be before we end up in bed together again?"

  The sheer arrogance of the question should have annoyed her, but his words—and the erotic images they evoked—sent a quick thrill through her. Rather than chance a response, she decided it was safer to ignore the question.

  "I give us two weeks, max," Colin continued idly. "Only because I know how stubborn you can be." He slid his hands up her back, felt her yield slightly, smiled. "Maybe ten days."

  How was she supposed to ignore him when he was touching her like that? She tried to push his arms away. "I am not going to end up in your bed again," she said through gritted teeth.

  Colin nodded. "Your bed would probably be more comfortable," he agreed. "More spacious. Although making love in a single would certainly be cozy."

  He slid one knee between hers and drew her steadily closer, until her breasts brushed against his chest. Her nipples tightened instinctively, strained against the fabric of her shirt.

  Her breath hitched as his gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered there. Uh-oh. She couldn't let him kiss her again, because if he did, she knew she'd be lost.

  "You … uh … really need to go," she said, just a little breathlessly.

  Then his lips were on hers and all thoughts of any further protest evaporated. Her mind went completely, blissfully, blank, and there was only Colin. She was vaguely aware of a heart beating, loud and fast, but she wasn't sure if it was his or her own.

  This was crazy. It was wrong. He wouldn't stay in town for the long term. He never did. Maybe he'd come back occasionally, now that he knew about Carly, but she couldn't hope for any more than that. He'd already broken her heart once before. She could not—would not—give him that power over her again.