An Honorable Man

by Margaret Watson

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Margaret Watson

  MARGARET WATSON

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Copyright

  Luke pulled away from Julia.

  When he looked at her, he found her watching him with equal parts desire and fear in her eyes. Her emotions so closely matched his own that he closed his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to want her this way.

  “Reaction makes you do funny things, doesn’t it?” Julia’s voice was too bright, and she refused to meet his eyes. “Release of tension and all that, I guess.”

  “Right.” He stared at her averted head and felt a perverse kick of anger. “God knows it would be completely unthinkable that you could actually want me.”

  “Just like you would rather die than want me,” she agreed. Her cheeks still flamed, but she met his eyes squarely.

  “I’m glad we have that straight.” He stood up abruptly and moved away from her.

  From now on he would damn well keep his hands to himself.

  Dear Reader,

  We’ve got six drop-dead-gorgeous and utterly irresistible heroes for you this month, starting with Marilyn Pappano’s latest contribution to our HEARTBREAKERS program. Dillon Boone, in Survive the Night, is a man on the run— right into Ashley Benedict’s arms. The only problem is, will they survive long enough to fulfill their promises of forever?

  Our ROMANTIC TRADITIONS title is Judith Duncan’s Driven to Distraction, a sexy take on the younger man/older woman theme. I promise you that Tony Parnelli will drive right into your heart. A Cowboy’s Heart, Doreen Roberts’ newest, features a one-time rodeo rider who’s just come face-to-face with a woman—and a secret—from his past. Kay David’s Baby of the Bride is a marriage-of-convenience story with an adorable little girl at its center—and a groom you’ll fall for in a big, bad way. Blackwood’s Woman, by Beverly Barton, is the last in her miniseries, THE PROTECTORS. And in J.T. Blackwood she’s created yet another hero to remember. Finally, Margaret Watson returns with her second book, An Honorable Man. Watch as hero Luke McKinley is forced to confront the one woman he would like never to see again—the one woman who is fated to be his.

  Enjoy them all, and come back next month for more great romantic reading—here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

  Yours,

  Leslie Wainger

  Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  An Honorable Man

  Margaret Watson

  Books by Margaret Watson

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  An Innocent Man #636

  An Honorable Man #708

  MARGARET WATSON

  says that from the time she learned to read, she could usually be found with her nose in a book. Her lifelong passion for reading led to her interest in writing, and now she’s happily writing exactly the kind of stories she likes to read. Margaret is a veterinarian who lives in the Chicago suburbs with her husband and their three daughters. In her spare time she enjoys in-line skating, birding and spending time with her family. Readers can write to Margaret at P.O. Box 2333, Naperville, IL 60567-2333.

  For Katie, Chelsea and Meg. I’m so proud that you are

  my daughters. Thank you for all you give me and all the

  joy you add to my life.

  Thanks to Tom Watson for his expertise on the city of

  Chicago and its neighborhoods.

  Chapter 1

  A sleepless night was a hell of a way to start the day. Lucas McKinley closed his eyes and leaned back in the creaking desk chair. It tipped to the side, as usual, and he propped his feet up on the scarred desk for balance.

  An hour’s sleep was all he needed. After that, coffee could get him through the rest of the day. As he slid lower in the chair, the weak morning light from the window next to him filtered through his eyelids, making his eyes burn. Someone had to turn down the sunlight, he thought drowsily, shifting to get into the shade. He thought longingly of the couch listing against the wall, but put it firmly out of his mind. He couldn’t afford to sleep the day away.

  Footsteps snapped on the linoleum outside his door, but he ignored them. No one ever came looking for him this early in the morning. His clientele tended to be creatures of the night. At this hour of the day, most of them would be getting into bed, not out of it. Just like he should be doing, he thought sourly as he adjusted his position again.

  The footsteps stopped outside his door. When they didn’t move on after a few moments, he groaned and pulled himself upright. Undoubtedly it was another newly arrived immigrant, speaking little or no English, looking for the podiatrist or the employment agency farther down the hall rather than his office, which offered private investigations. Maybe after he helped them find the right room, using the few words of Polish he’d learned in his last two years on the northwest side of Chicago, he’d stretch out on that couch after all.

  The door swung slowly open and he let his feet drop to the floor, plastering what would have to pass for a pleasant smile on his face. When his visitor stepped into the sunlight streaming into the office, his smile froze and his face hardened until he thought it would crack.

  She stood in the doorway for a moment, almost as if she were gathering her courage. Then, with a deep breath, she closed the door behind her and took two more steps toward him.

  “Good morning, Mr. McKinley.”

  Her voice was low and pleasant, just like he remembered it. He’d thought at the time that anyone with such a sexy, husky voice shouldn’t be capable of shattering his world so easily and so completely.

  “May I come in?”

  There was only polite inquiry in her voice, but a shadow, quickly hidden, flickered across her face. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she looked uncomfortable.

  But that was impossible. Julia Carleton, the queen of cool, was never uncomfortable. The ice princess of the Chicago Police Force’s Internal Affairs Department never showed a crack in her marble facade.

  “Of course,” he said, waving his arm as he slouched in his chair and watched her warily. “Have a seat. Make yourself at home.”

  She looked around uncertainly at the dark red leather couch that leaned drunkenly against the wall, and opted instead for a battered wooden chair that stood in front of his desk. Setting her briefcase carefully on the floor, she smoothed the skirt of her dark blue suit and balanced herself on the edge of the chair.

  As he watched her settle herself the old anger stirred, and he abruptly tipped the chair back to the floor. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Her hands clenched together a little more tightly in her lap. “I’ve come to offer you a job,” she said, the words spilling out just a little too quickly.

  For a moment he thought she meant his old job on the force, and he wanted to jump up with a shout of triumph. Then, as he looked at her sitting tense and wary on the edge of the chair, his elation dissipated abruptly. That wasn’t what she’d meant at all.

  “You want to hire me, you mean.” His voi
ce was flat.

  “Of course.” She seemed to gather her composure as she gave him a long, measuring look. “You are still accepting clients, aren’t you?”

  “I’m still accepting clients. When I’m in the mood for new clients,” he said deliberately. He rubbed his hand over the sandpaper of his face and watched her steadily, not missing the tiny flare of embarrassment in her eyes. “What are you doing here?” he finally asked again, his words both harsh and unwelcoming.

  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought a faint wash of color came and went in her cheeks. “I need to hire a private investigator, and your…qualifications are perfect.”

  “My qualifications are perfect for a lot of things. That didn’t make much difference two years ago.”

  He was right. There was color in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “I didn’t come here to rehash what happened two years ago. You know why you were dismissed. I had no choice, and you know that, too. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a dead issue.”

  “Well, maybe it isn’t a dead issue as far as I’m concerned. And maybe I don’t need another client right now.”

  “I think you do,” she said quietly. She looked away from him and let her gaze drift over the office, from the leather couch with the shine completely rubbed off by the countless rear ends that had sat on it, to the worn, faded carpet and battered-looking desk and chair. “I’m willing to pay you half of your fee up front and all expenses.”

  She was right, he needed the money. But he’d be damned if he’d crawl to Julia Carleton. “That’s my usual arrangement,” he drawled. “If you want me to work for you—” his voice emphasized the you ever so faintly “—you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

  “Just what would you require?” Her voice was cool and she raised her chin just a bit.

  In spite of himself, he had to admire her composure. He was being about as rude as it was possible to be, but she wasn’t turning tail and bolting. She had guts, he had to give her that.

  “To begin with, I don’t take any cases without knowing all the facts.” He leaned back in his chair again. “So what do you have? A boyfriend that needs checking out? Someone who needs to be followed, maybe, to make sure he’s not cheating on you?”

  The quick flash of color came and went in her cheeks again. “This isn’t personal.” Her voice was tight. “It’s police business.”

  He stood abruptly, towering over her. “Then have the police take care of it,” he said harshly, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “That’s not my job anymore.”

  Instead of retreating, she drew herself straighter in her chair and looked him in the eye. “That’s not possible. I need an outsider, someone who’s not a part of the police department. With your skills and your police connections, you’re the perfect person to help me.”

  “But what if I’m not interested in using my ‘police connections’ to help you?” he said, his voice soft. He didn’t sit, but continued to stare down at her.

  “It was my understanding that there was very little you refused to do these days, if the money was right,” she said coolly. She leaned back in her chair and met his gaze without flinching.

  He let his gaze travel slowly down her body, then up again. “Even I have my standards.”

  Holding her head just a fraction higher, she asked, “Aren’t you even interested in the details?”

  Again, he felt that unwilling surge of admiration for her. Julia Carleton was no coward. “All right,” he said suddenly, sitting down and pulling his chair closer to his desk. “What are the details?”

  In answer she leaned over and searched through her briefcase. Her curtain of heavy, dark red hair fell forward over her face. The jacket of her suit fell open, exposing the creamy white blouse beneath it. Perfectly ordinary, conservative business attire, except that when she bent over farther, the fabric tightened against her chest, outlining something lacy and delicate beneath the plain white blouse.

  Unable to tear his gaze away from the lacy thing she wore next to her skin, he stared at her chest and his body tightened. He’d have bet a hundred dollars that Julia Carleton wore plain, functional white cotton underwear. The lace that strained against her blouse couldn’t belong to the buttoned-up, straight-as-an-arrow, go-by-the-book investigator that he’d known two years ago.

  As he watched her, alarmed and angered by his body’s instinctive reaction, she straightened in her chair, holding a fistful of file folders. When she met his eyes she stilled, her hand suspended over his desk in the act of giving him the files.

  The moment seemed to stretch on forever. Neither of them unlocked their gaze, and the air in the room became taut and edgy. Finally Julia cleared her throat, laid the files carefully on the desk and looked away.

  With a bitten-off oath, Luke jumped to his feet and shoved his chair back. It spun into the wall with a dull thud, and he whirled around and stood in front of the window, staring blindly at the busy street below him.

  Julia Carleton was not a woman, he reminded himself. She was an investigator with the Internal Affairs section of the Chicago Police Force. And she was personally responsible for getting his butt thrown off the force. No matter how his body reacted to her, there was no way he was going to think of her as anything other than his enemy.

  “Are you all right, Mr. McKinley?”

  If he didn’t know better, he could almost imagine that it was concern he heard in her voice.

  “I’m fine.” His voice was brusque. “I was up all night on a surveillance and I’m a little tired.”

  He forced himself to turn around and sit down, keeping his eyes on the stack of files on his desk. “Before I read this,” he said, pausing as he picked up the top folder and finally looked up at her, “why don’t you tell me what it’s about?”

  Julia took a deep breath, unclenched her hands, and settled back in her chair. She’d rehearsed this part so often that she could practically recite it in her sleep. She had to focus on why she was here, what was at stake, and not on the man watching her from the other side of the desk.

  Lucas McKinley wasn’t happy to see her. But then, she’d expected nothing less. If she’d had any other choice, she wouldn’t be sitting in this office, steeling herself against his hostility. If she’d had any other choice, she wouldn’t even have considered asking him for help.

  But she’d run out of other options a couple of weeks ago. Even then, she’d refused to accept the inevitable, choosing instead to keep plugging doggedly ahead, looking for other evidence, trying to put together a case. When her boss told her yesterday to either come up with something or turn the case over to someone else, she’d known that she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to go to Lucas McKinley.

  And now that she was here, she had to persuade him to help her. Swallowing once, she shifted on the hard chair and forced herself to look directly at him. “I’m working on a case of corruption within the department.”

  From the flicker in his eyes, she knew she’d touched a nerve. People had said a lot of things about Lucas McKinley during his years on the police force, but no one had ever accused him of being less than completely honest. He was legendary for paying for every single cup of coffee and each doughnut he’d consumed. McKinley had held nothing but scorn for officers who’d bent the rules even a little.

  “You don’t need me for that.” He tossed the folder over the desk in her direction and leaned back in his chair. “You have the unlimited resources of the Internal Affairs Department.”

  The bitterness in his voice made her flinch inside, but she didn’t take her eyes off him. Taking a deep breath, she scooted forward on her chair. This was it. McKinley might resent her, he might hate her guts, but she had to have his help. If her next words couldn’t convince him to help her, nothing would. And if he didn’t help her…She wouldn’t allow herself to think of that possibility. He had to help her. Too much was riding on this investigation.

  “Internal Affairs is under a lot of p
ressure right now,” she said carefully. “The head of the department has been mentioned as a candidate for a citywide job, and we’ve all been ordered to close our cases in order to…make him look good. No one is very disposed to help anyone else when their job could depend on finishing their own investigations.”

  McKinley stared at her with hard eyes, his mouth a tight line. “I hope you didn’t come here expecting any sympathy from me.”

  “I came here to hire you. I need help with my investigation, and I need it now.”

  He eased his desk chair to the floor and leaned forward, his gaze skewering her in her place. “Let me see if I have this straight. You need help with one of your investigations, and you think I’m the person to help you. You want to pay me two hundred dollars a day to bail your butt out of trouble.” His chair wobbled on two legs as he stood suddenly and towered over her. “What fantasyland are you living in, Ms. Carleton? Did you really think I would help you?” She heard the incredulity in his voice. “I wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.”

  You expected this reaction, she reminded herself as she dug her nails into her palms. Remember what’s at stake. Ignore McKinley and think of Bobby.

  “I didn’t expect you to jump for joy at the prospect of helping me,” she said quietly. “But before you make any decisions, I think you ought to look at the file and the names of the officers I’m investigating.”

  He stared at her for a long time, challenge in his eyes. If she said another word, she suspected, he’d throw her out of his office and that would be it. So she just sat there, watching him, daring him to pick up the folder.

  Slowly, still watching her, he reached across the desk and plucked the top folder from the pile. When his gaze dropped to the papers inside, she quietly let out the breath she’d been holding. Forcing herself to relax against the back of the chair, she watched his face as he read.