Say You're Sorry

by Karen Rose

  Instead she was abruptly stopped in her tracks. Actually, she was bounced backward when she collided into a hard chest. Strong hands reached out to steady her and angry green eyes glared down.

  “Miss Dawson?”

  Gideon Reynolds. She stared up for a moment, caught off guard and not prepared for his face. Or the rest of him. Very, very pretty, indeed. Her eyes narrowed as her brain caught up. “Why are you here? And why are you mad at me?”

  “I’m not.” He looked over her shoulder pointedly. Tad had followed her, and the sight of him had Gideon jutting his chin out and breathing like a raging bull.

  Daisy looked from Tad back to Gideon, then to Rafe and Arnie, the station manager, who were right behind him. Everyone looked furious. She was guessing that they’d heard Tad’s final on-air smears. Just like every listener in Sacramento had.

  She pressed her palm to Gideon’s chest when he started to go around her toward Tad, who was slinking away, retreating to the studio. “Wait,” she murmured. “Please.” Because he looked like he wanted to break Tad into little pieces. While part of her found that hotter than hell, it was a very bad idea.

  At her touch, Gideon sucked in a sudden breath and Daisy shivered. Later, she decided. She’d consider this later.

  Pulling her hand away, she shifted her bag on her shoulder, shushing Brutus, who’d begun to whimper. “I’m filing a grievance, Arnie. I’m okay. Nobody needs to be this upset.”

  “Did he touch you?” Gideon asked in a low growl that made Daisy want to whimper along with Brutus, but for very different reasons.

  This caveman possessiveness of his shouldn’t be hot. But it is.

  “No. He was just”—a dick—“unprofessional on air. How much did you hear?”

  “That he wants to be a shock jock,” Rafe answered, one brow lifted. He was still angry, but handling it far better than Gideon, the reputed vault. “I, for one, am hoping that dream will come true. But Arnie, we’ll get out of your hair and let you handle things. It’s okay if we take Daisy home? She can file her grievance later, can’t she?”

  Arnie nodded. “Not like we lack evidence. It’s all recorded. Was he like that for the whole program? I only caught the last few minutes, but I heard him guess your measurements and your . . .” He winced. “Preferences.”

  He’d goaded her about whether she liked boys or girls and her preferred sexual positions. Right before he asked the listeners if they’d like her phone number. The switchboard had lit up.

  “He wasn’t that bad the whole way through,” she assured him. “Just general”—dickishness—“um, unprofessionalism.”

  Rafe snorted. “Look at who’s all diplomatic this morning.”

  “And without sixty-two cups of coffee,” she replied tartly.

  Arnie gave her shoulder a squeeze. “See you tomorrow at the pet adoption thing?” he asked her. Arnie Townsend was a nice guy. Somewhere close to sixty, he’d been the station manager at KZAU for at least a decade, maybe two.

  “Absolutely.” She smiled at him. “You’ll be there, too?” He attended some of the station-sponsored events but had never come to the adoption center.

  Arnie glanced at the two men standing like silent sentries. “I think so. Just in case. I’m so sorry about what happened last night, honey.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “If it was one of the listeners, I’ll do everything in my power to find him,” Arnie promised. “I’ve got our IT guy looking at all those threatening messages and we’ll trace them ourselves, because heaven knows when SacPD will get to it. No offense, Rafe.”

  “None taken,” Rafe told him. “We’re backlogged everywhere.”

  Arnie patted her shoulder. “Until then, we’re upping security in the parking lot.”

  “I walk to work,” she reminded him. “But it’ll be good for everyone else to be covered.”

  “You don’t walk to work anymore,” Gideon said behind her.

  Oh, really? It made sense and Daisy would take the precautions they suggested, but she wasn’t going to let them tell her what she was and wasn’t going to do. Nipping this in the bud, right now. Eyes wide and deceptively innocent, she looked at him over her shoulder. “I don’t? Says who?”

  Gideon’s grim mouth opened to reply, but Rafe cut in. “She’s baiting you, Gid.” Rafe put on his best puppy-dog expression. “For now, I’m ever-so-humbly asking you not to walk to work, DD. Please. For me and Dad and Mom and Sasha and—”

  She laughed. “Okay, fine.” She shook her head. “We’d be here all day if you listed the whole family.” Fighting back a yawn, she pushed past all of them. “Actually, going home to take a nap sounds really good. Let me get a few things from my desk and shut my computer down. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She paused at the door to the office cubicles, realizing Gideon hadn’t answered her original question. “And then Special Agent Reynolds can tell me why he’s here.”

  SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

  FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 10:10 A.M.

  Gideon watched Daisy go, frowning. She was . . . “Different,” he muttered.

  Rafe laughed. “She is. She always was, though. Even when she was a kid she marched to her own drummer.”

  Gideon followed him to the lobby to wait. “You knew her as a kid?”

  “Yeah. Our dads served in the army together and stayed fast friends, so we spent holidays together, celebrated birthdays, went on vacations, all that. Dad is DD’s godfather.”

  Gideon lifted his brows. “So her coming to stay with you all makes sense.”

  “Wouldn’t have made a difference if Dad was her godfather or not. The Dawson girls were like our cousins. Dad was devastated when they disappeared. Daisy was only eleven when her dad packed it all up and went north to that ranch.”

  “Because of her stepsister?”

  “Yes. Taylor. Mom never really liked Donna—Taylor’s mother—but she didn’t have anything more than intuition.”

  “She said last night that her stepmother told her that Taylor’s biological father wanted to take her away.”

  “It was worse than that. Donna claimed he was a homicidal lunatic who’d raped and beaten her and that she’d barely escaped with her life. Frederick believed her.”

  “She must have been one hell of a convincing liar.”

  “Must have been, but Frederick was always the protective type. Always knew where all the girls were at any given time.” Rafe chuckled ruefully. “My dad used to pity any man who tried to date one of Frederick’s daughters. Sasha was devastated when they moved away. She and Daisy had been close.”

  “I don’t think I ever met them.”

  Rafe absently scratched at the stubble covering his jaw. “I don’t think you did. You and I met when we were fourteen. That was about the same time that Frederick married Donna. His first wife had died in childbirth with Daisy’s baby sister, Julie. My mom jumped in to take care of the girls, but when Donna came on the scene, all that changed. Donna was territorial. Didn’t like my mother’s interference. We stopped seeing them as often. Frederick kept his kids in Oakland for holidays and the vacations stopped happening. Mostly because Donna and my mom couldn’t be in the same room together without the claws coming out. When they disappeared, my folks were out of their minds with worry.”

  Gideon frowned. “He didn’t tell your father where they were going?”

  “Nope. Made a clean cut. Didn’t hear from them again until about a year or so ago.”

  “Because Frederick discovered Donna had been lying all along?”

  “Not Frederick.” Rafe sighed. “It was Taylor. Donna did some deathbed confession and Taylor decided she needed to go to Maryland to meet her biological father, to see for herself if he was bad or good. Turns out he’s a great guy. Taylor moved out there to be near him, and Frederick moved to be near Taylor. Taylor and her father have so many years to catc
h up on. She was twenty-three when they finally met.”

  “Poor guy,” Gideon murmured. “Taylor’s biological dad, I mean. And your father. Did Frederick just up and call one day?”

  “Out of the blue,” Rafe said, shaking his head. “My father was so hurt. He won’t admit it, but he’s still hurt that Frederick didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. Frederick still hasn’t visited in person. Just phone calls and e-mails.”

  Gideon thought of the bighearted Karl. “But your dad forgave him?”

  Rafe shrugged. “I guess so. Frederick still has some bridges to rebuild in my opinion, but my dad understands a father’s need to protect his kids.”

  Gideon nodded at that, because he’d been lucky enough to experience Karl’s protection. And affection. Rafe was so damned lucky and fortunately he seemed to know it.

  “Plus,” Rafe added, “my dad said that if Taylor’s biological dad could forgive Frederick, then so could he.”

  “He forgave him? Really?” Gideon said, then heard the clacking of heels as Daisy joined them in the lobby. “That’s pretty unbelievable.”

  “You’re talking about Clay?” she asked. “Taylor’s bio-dad?”

  Gideon nodded. “It had to be hard for Taylor’s father to forgive yours.”

  Daisy’s face softened into a sweet smile. “Not really. Clay forgave Dad almost right away. Basically said life was too short to be bitter. He and Dad have become good friends. It’s kind of amazing to watch them together. Speaking of, I need to call my dad. Which means I have to go to the phone store for a new cell. Unless your lab guy is finished with it,” she added hopefully, looking up at Rafe.

  Rafe produced a phone from his pocket. “They aren’t, but I took care of it. This is an old one of mine. I had it wiped and your contacts and stuff transferred over. Use it as long as you need to.”

  “Thank you.” Gratefully she took the phone and slid it into one of the front pockets of her bag, before reaching in and producing the ball of fur she called Brutus. Snuggling the dog up under her chin, she met Gideon’s eyes. “Why are you here, Agent Reynolds?”

  “Gideon,” he corrected without having planned to. He’d planned to keep it formal. He frowned at that, so hard that his forehead pinched.

  “Are you sure?” she drawled, sounding amused. “I can call you Agent Reynolds if you want me to.”

  His frown deepened. She kept him at a disadvantage and he didn’t like that. “That won’t be necessary.”

  She regarded him levelly, a mix of curiosity and compassion in her eyes that was both compelling and unsettling. Like she knew something he would have preferred to keep private. “Why are you here, Gideon?”

  “I’m your . . .” His words failed because her blue eyes were narrowing in displeasure.

  “My bodyguard?” she snapped.

  “That’s as good a word as any,” he said, fighting the need to wince. A small woman with a ridiculous dog should not be so intimidating.

  Rafe sighed. “Look at it as a mutually beneficial business arrangement,” he said, and Daisy closed her mouth, silencing what would no doubt have been objections.

  Gideon noted this. Rafe was very good at corralling Daisy to do what he wanted her to. He had the feeling he himself would not be so lucky.

  “All right,” she said suspiciously. She pointed to Gideon. “You explain. Rafe’s got some silver-tongued pact with Satan going on. Tries to distract me.”

  Gideon snorted a laugh before he could stop himself. “That’s accurate,” he said, and when she smiled back at him, something settled in his chest. “It’s pretty simple. The guy who attacked you connects to the locket. I want to trace that locket. If he comes after you again, I can keep you safe and get some information at the same time.”

  She watched him for a long moment. “So let’s say I agree. How long will this mutually beneficial business arrangement last?”

  “A week for now.”

  “And if he doesn’t come after me? Especially considering I have a bodyguard?”

  Gideon exchanged a glance with Rafe, who wore an I-told-you-so smile. Bastard. But Rafe had warned him that Daisy wouldn’t take well to a bodyguard. After her father hiring someone to follow her around Europe, Gideon couldn’t say he blamed her.

  Still, he was a little offended. “I am quite capable of following you in a way that no one will know I’m there, Miss Dawson. Including you.”

  “Then why tell me at all?” she asked innocently.

  Rafe covered a laugh with a cough. Gideon forced his expression to remain passively neutral even though in his mind he was grinding his teeth. “I thought you’d like to know you’re being protected. I was trying to be nice.”

  She smiled at that. “Okay.”

  It was his turn to be suspicious. “Okay what?”

  “Okay, you can be my bodyguard,” she said graciously, dipping her head like a queen might. “And you may call me Daisy. Well, if we’re done here, I’d like to go back to my apartment to go to sleep. Is that acceptable, Gideon?”

  He found himself smiling yet again. “It is. My car’s parked in the lot in back.”

  SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

  FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 10:30 A.M.

  I have a fucking bodyguard. Un-frickin-believable. Daisy was still silently fuming as Gideon pulled his car into the driveway of Rafe’s house, where she rented a studio apartment. But she was not too stupid to live, and thus grateful not to be alone after last night’s attack. So she’d bitten back her irritation and smiled sweetly, offering no overt resistance. It seemed to work because Gideon Reynolds had finally relaxed, his mysterious, growly, bad-boy vibes settling into something resembling grim competence.

  He didn’t seem to be any happier about the arrangement than she was. Although he had been furious with Tad. More like he wanted to take the prick apart.

  Which really wasn’t that surprising. Irina had been insisting for the last six months that Gideon was one of the “rare good guys.”

  A good guy who apparently had programmed Rafe’s garage door into his own car. Gideon pressed a button on the overhead light panel and the garage door slid up.

  “How can you open Rafe’s garage?” she asked him.

  He spared her a quick glance. “I used to live here.”

  She blinked. “When?”

  His smile was wry. “Until six months ago,” he said. “When Rafe told me to hurry my ass up and move because he had a new tenant.”

  Daisy’s mouth fell open, genuinely horrified. “I kicked you out of your apartment? But Karl said it was available, that Rafe needed the rent check. I never would have—”

  “Daisy,” Gideon interrupted, his voice deep and . . . authoritative. Which should not be so enticing. Because I hate authority. I really do. But she couldn’t deny the shivers that ran over her skin at the sound of him saying her name.

  He was watching her warily. Because I probably sound insane.

  She lifted her chin, met his eyes. “Yes?”

  “I’d bought a house and it was sitting empty because the thought of moving was exhausting. I was griping loudly every day about the commute from Midtown to the field office and the fact that I was paying rent and a mortgage. Rafe was about to kill me.”

  She smiled, relieved. “So my moving here kept Rafe from a homicide charge?”

  He frowned as he pulled into the garage. “And kept me from being murdered.”

  She chuckled. “Okay. That’s good, too.”

  He shut off the engine, then turned to give her his full attention. Which was a little overwhelming, Daisy thought, feeling her pulse ratchet up.

  This could end up being very, very good or very, very bad.

  “I won’t bother you,” he said quietly.

  “Too late,” she murmured, then bit her lip as her cheeks heated. But it was true. Gideon Reynolds bo
thered her on so many levels. Still, it was rude and that was not okay. “Sorry. I’d intended to keep that to myself.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “I know having someone watch over you is not what you want.”

  “But right now, it’s what I need. I really do appreciate it.” She made a face. “Part of me hopes the guy will try again so that you’ll get what you need. How insane is that?”

  His smile was so gentle that it stole her next breath. “Incredibly insane. And very generous.” He cleared his throat abruptly and the moment was gone. “This is how I thought we’d work this. I’ll sleep on your sofa and drive you to and from work.”

  “What about my commitments? I’m doing the pet adoption clinic tomorrow.” She knew she sounded a little childish and a lot defensive, but she couldn’t make herself care. “I don’t want him to steal my life, Gideon. I’ve lived that. For years. It was like prison. I can’t go back to that. I won’t.”

  Understanding flickered in his eyes, but it was more than empathy. It was a lot more personal than that. Like maybe he really did understand. She wondered about the locket once again. “I know,” he said before she could probe for answers. “I respect that.”

  “But?”

  “But nothing. You’ll go about your life as if nothing is wrong. I’ll discreetly follow you. If someone does happen to notice me and asks, tell them I’m a friend from the East Coast or from the ranch, like that Jacob person you mentioned last night.”

  She lifted a brow, the downsides to this plan all too apparent. “And if I’m going about my life, it’s more likely that the guy from last night will try again.”

  Gideon shrugged. “It’s more likely he’ll try again if you’re out there than if you’re holed up somewhere safe. Make me a copy of your schedule. I’ll research the setups ahead of time to figure out how to best remain out of sight.”

  “And at the end of one week you’ll be gone?”

  His left eye twitched. Just a hair. A tell, she thought, filing the discovery away for later. “How about we renegotiate terms when the time comes?”