The stacked blonde thought a moment, her brows drawing together. Don't hurt yourself, there, Tiff. He didn't expect her to make it far in the department, but she was a great fuck. He'd lay bets she ended up knocked up and married—in that order—before the end of the year. He knew she'd burned her way through all the uniforms and was now sleeping with both him and his partner. He shook off the vision of Tiffany taking Steve Archer with a grimace. Archer was a retired point guard for the Wizards. He didn't want to think about the gymnastics required for the small framed Tiffany to satisfy his giant of a partner. Instead, he asked again, “Thoughts?”
She pursed her full lips, and he waited. Finally, she said, “The perp was looking for information from both Ms. Everett and Mr. Black.”
Give the girl a gold star. “What kind of information?”
“Steve was thinking it was about an upcoming trial, but what if it were a pending parole? Maybe someone is waiting for their partner to get out, or is afraid their, say, brother won't be released.”
There was a brain under all that hair. “Good thinking. Since Ms. Everett lives here in Tyler, we have point on the break-in, even if we don't get to look at Judge Simmons' murder or the bomb at In The Stacks.”
She sighed, and the movement of her chest drew his eye. Ready to see her without the distracting blue uniform, he told her, “Ms. Everett is safe, and there's nothing more we can do tonight. Let's call it a night.”
She flashed him her pageant-girl smile. “Yes, let's.”
He followed her out, thoroughly enjoying the view from behind while his mind was working double-time. Who was breaking into houses and blowing up cars, and why? This didn't involve him, and he was not happy. Tiffany would be a good distraction, and then he would figure out who was screwing with his town.
~*~
Three days after the break-in, Cassidy was cursing at herself in the bathroom, the contents of her purse dumped on the counter. Of all the things she hadn't packed, she didn't have her pills. “Shit!”
“Everythin' okay in there, Cassie?” Dylan's deep voice asked through the door.
No, things were not okay. No wonder she jumped him, she was flipping ovulating. Dammit. She'd missed three, no, four doses. “I'm good,” she answered.
“You sure? I'm happy to help, ya know.”
She could imagine the half smile on his sexy face when he said that. He'd be happy to help her, and that was the problem. She could just imagine him helping her in the shower. He'd soap her back, cup her breasts, and slide into her from behind. She stopped herself. Pregnant. She could very possibly be pregnant, but it was too early to tell. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a deep breath. She needed to calm down. When she was sure her voice wouldn't shake she said, “We need to go to the pharmacy today.”
“I have Tylenol, Advil, Excedrin, Pepto—”
“No,” she cut him off. “I need my pills.”
“What kind of...” When he trailed off, she could picture the look on his face, happy she was still behind a door. Wait for it.
“Cassie, does that mean we've been unprotected this whole time?”
Sure did. How could she do that? She was an educated woman, a lawyer, an Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney. How could she forget something like her birth control? She heaved a breath and opened the door. “Not the first time, but this weekend, yes.”
The blood drained from his face. “Dammit, Cassie, I have condoms.”
“Good, we'll use those next time.” If he'd even come near her with anything shorter than a ten-foot pole. The man was hung, but not quite that well.
“Of course we will,” he agreed with a nod. “We'll also get you your pills.”
She felt tears welling up, refused to let them fall. “I'm sorry, Dylan. I swear it wasn't purposeful.”
He gave her a “you've got to be kidding” look. “You're the heiress, Cassie. Why would you want to trap me?”
“I'm the one who promised something I didn't deliver. I'm the one who lied.”
“Accidentally.” He took a breath before pinning her with his hot golden stare. “Marry me.”
What? Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She tried again. “What?”
“You have excellent hearin'.”
She blinked at him. “We had unprotected sex a few times and now you want to marry me?”
“Nine.”
She felt her face scrunch up with confusion. “Nine?”
“Nine times. Nine times you screamed my name, nine times you shattered in my arms, nine times I came inside you.”
God, she wanted to make it ten right now. “That makes you want to marry me?” His gaze was unwavering and she wished she could read his thoughts.
“There are a lot of reasons, Cassie.”
There were a lot of reasons? She held up a hand. “Back up, here. This was supposed to be casual, this was supposed to be until you healed and went home.”
“I'm not completely healed, but I am home, and you're with me.”
He wasn't kidding. He was an honorable man, but marriage was for love. “What if I'm not pregnant?”
“What if you are?” he countered, eyes hard.
She'd figure it out, but she refused to trap him, accidentally or not. “You said yourself, I'm an heiress.”
“Who works fifty hours a week.”
He had her there. She licked her lips as she thought, finally just agreeing with him. “True.”
“You'd need help. You'd need me.”
“I'd need you—” She cut the sentence off, barely stopping herself from finishing it with “anyway.” Damn the man. She shook her head. There was a good chance she was driving herself crazy for no reason. “I'm probably not. The chances are slim.”
He gave her a look she couldn't place. “We'll see.”
She threw her hands up. The man was an immovable force. “Just take me to the pharmacy.”
“You still have to drive,” he told her with a shake of his head.
She was getting tired of driving. “Give me the keys.”
~*~
“You're not goin' anywhere alone,” Dylan commanded the following morning.
“Do you plan on handcuffing yourself to me?” she shot back, her tone flippant.
“If I have to.” He gave her as hard a look as he could muster before going on. “You are in danger, and I won't let you pretend like you're not anymore.”
“I have to go to work.”
Of course she did, and that was fine. “I didn't say you couldn't go to work, I said you weren't going alone.” He saw her roll her eyes. She wasn't taking this seriously and that pissed him off. “A judge is dead, Cassie. Dead. You were already targeted once with your car. Who's to say what the next move is, who the next victim will be?”
“What if it's J.D. or Judge Winthrop? What then?”
He ground his teeth. “I don't care if you think I'm bein' an overprotective asshole, you're not goin' anywhere alone, and that's final.”
She scrunched up her nose. “That's final? I might l...like you, but you don't control me.”
He noticed her verbal stumble, but now wasn't the time to push her on what she'd almost said. “I don't want to control you, I want to protect you. I want to keep you alive. Is that too much to ask?”
“You were supposed to heal at my house. I wasn't supposed to become a project, or an assignment.”
“You are not a project or assignment.” After everything, how could she think that? “I want to keep you safe because I care about you.” He wanted to keep her safe and with him forever, but saying more would make her turn tail, so he left it there.
“You would do this for anyone.”
He suppressed a groan. When did everyone decide he was some sort of superhero? “No. I saved your brother, but only because I was there. If O'Dell had been there instead, he'd be the one shot up, and you'd be havin' this conversation with him.” He winced. He hoped she wouldn't be having this exact conversation with Sean O'Dell.
“I would not!” she yelled at him, dark eyes flashing. “You know damn well I wouldn't have spent a weekend fucking the hell out of Sean O'Dell.”
He held back a grimace at her characterization of their lovemaking, but was happy she was feeling something, even if it was outrage. “Maybe not, but he'd still be tellin' you you were in danger.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “There's no maybe about it. I wasn't attracted to Sean.”
He crossed to her to wrap his good arm around her waist, pulling her back to his front. “So it was only me you wanted?” She stiffened, and he nipped at her earlobe. “I want you. I always want you, Cassie,” he whispered as she melted against him, “and I want you safe.”
She straightened, then relaxed against him again. “Why am I fighting you? I might argue for a living, but I'm not going to win.”
“You might not win, but you'll stay alive.” He felt more than heard her sigh. He'd won, and she hated it, even if she might agree when she was thinking rationally.
“You'll have to stay in my office.”
“Nope.” She struggled against his grip, but couldn't break free, and he fought to keep in a chuckle.
“What do you mean, nope?”
“I mean I'm not leavin' your side.”
“How am I supposed to get anything done with you attached to me?” she asked and he let loose the laugh he'd been holding.
“Afraid I'll distract you?”
She wrenched herself around to face him. “Yes.”
He was worried about that himself, but didn't trust anyone else. “Me, too. We'll just have to work around it. I'm not leavin' your safety to chance or whoever happens to be around at the time. I need you to stay safe.”
She rested her forehead against his chest. “I don't want you to babysit me.”
Baby. He'd been so worried about keeping her safe, he'd nearly forgotten her news yesterday. It was too early to know anything, so he'd shoved it aside to deal with the threat at hand. A month ago his life had been uncomplicated, and now she had him twisted in knots. He pulled in a slow breath, enjoying the floral scent of her perfume, and tabled the discussion he was sure would start another fight. Injecting as much levity in his voice as possible, he told her, “It's not babysittin', it's bodyguardin', and what a great body to guard.”
He felt her shake her head against him. Her voice was muffled when she agreed, “Fine then. Get ready and let's go.”
~*~
Brandon sat in the witness stand, Cassidy Everett asking questions. He swallowed and answered her, “Penelope Dalton was shaken when we found her, what little clothing she was wearing ripped and bloody.” Penny Dalton was sixteen and had been gang-raped by four juiced up Tyler High football players. Her screaming made someone call the police and he and Steve had been called in to rescue her.
“Her attackers are here now?” she asked. He knew she had to ask, but it was such a dumb question. If they weren't here, why would he be sitting in this stupid box?
“Yes. Austin Markey, Jonathan Towles, Gavin Webster, and Marcus Olivier were arrested at the scene.”
The trial went better and more quickly than expected, the jury convicting all four as adults even though two were underage, and Brandon called it a good day. He wasn't a bad guy, not really. Priscilla had asked him to do something he wouldn't normally have done, and while his ex-stepsister ended up in the loony bin, no one had died. Dylan Black had been shot, but that just gave him a good opening into Cassidy Everett's bed, so Brandon still counted that as a good outcome. He smiled at the thought. He'd bet Mason Everett wouldn't agree with him.
He might have his own agenda, but he still saved people occasionally, and put away the really bad ones, like the four today. He cracked his knuckles and shot a glance down the hallway. He might not be evil, but he was an opportunist.
“Wait up, Counselor,” he called as Cassidy made her way past him, her tall gimp of a boyfriend trailing behind.
“Detective,” she greeted. Her attempt at smiling turned out more like he expected her pretty face would look if she'd swallowed a bug. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. Courtesy didn't look good on her.
He returned her smile, if one could call it that. “I wanted to ask if you had a list of possible suspects for the break-in. Officer Morgan is working the case with me, and while she's good with research, anything you can give us is helpful.
He saw Cassidy try and fail to conceal a slight eye roll. “If I knew who had done it, I wouldn't need you to investigate, now would I?”
Bitch. “All I'm asking for is a start, Counselor. We're looking at your cases, both tried and pending, and we're taking special care with the those you have tried or were slated to try in front of Judge Simmons, but it'd be much easier for you to give us names than for us to cull through. You will know what cases were major and what just had your name on them.” He pinned her with a glare. “We know what we're doing; what we're asking for is a little cooperation.” He paused then, allowing her a moment to squirm beneath his scrutiny, then went on, “I'd think as an officer of the court, you'd understand that.”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes downcast. “You're right. I'm sorry. I have a lot on my mind right now.” She slid a heated look at her boyfriend. “I haven't sat down to make a list yet, but it's something Dylan and I will do later today.”
He nodded genially, every bit the consummate professional. “You can email it to me if that's easier.”
“Thank you, Detective. We will do that,” she agreed before grasping the brooding bodyguard's hand and leading him away. Brandon shook his head. That man was a sniper, a Ranger, a skip-tracer, hell, he was even a hero, but he was also pussy whipped. How the mighty have fallen.
~*~
The hair on the back of Dylan's neck stood on end, and he darted his gaze around the hallway. “Your office. Now. Don't stop,” he commanded quietly. Something was off, but he didn't know what. The trial had gone well, the bastards punished for the rape of a young woman, and the families had all filed out the door minutes ago.
“What? Why?” she murmured as they made their way down the hall and into the elevator. “What's wrong?”
He hit the door close button, leaving the two of them alone in the car. “I'm not sure. A feelin' like we were being watched.”
“Your spidey senses?” she joked.
He managed a smile. “You don't stay alive in war zones without them, darlin'.”
“I'm glad you have them then,” she said softly.
Him too. Now, he just had to figure out what had his nerves on edge. He learned early on that if he thought something was wrong, it was, and if he thought he was being watched, someone was watching. “Who would be here, watchin' you?”
She shook her head. “Any number of people. I just sent four men away for a long, long time.”
“Those weren't men, and they deserve everythin' dished out to them and more.” Animals like that, who forced themselves on women, didn't deserve to live. “Have you received threats from the families of those four?”
“Not that I'm aware of, but Rochelle would know more than I do; she takes care of the mail.”
“Good thing we're headed to your office, then.” He might not trust Detective Davis, but he was right—they needed to sit down and compile a list of possible suspects. Now was as good a time as any.
~*~
They exited the elevator, and Cassidy had to admit she was shaken. If something could set her big, bad Ranger on high alert, she wanted to know who it was. As they made their way into her office, Rochelle sat up straight in her chair. “Recess?” she asked.
“We're finished, actually. Just one day of questioning.” She shook her head. “The defense didn't try very hard, to be honest. The jury didn't deliberate for more than an hour, and found all four guilty.”
“They were guilty.”
“That they were,” she agreed. “Although, if I were defending them, I'd have brought in an expert on steroids to
speak to the affect of so much testosterone on such young men. Their defense was almost non-existent. It would've made more sense for them to have just plead guilty.”
Rochelle's dark eyes narrowed. “Why didn't they? Why go through the motions of a trial at all?”
“That's just it. It wasn't a trial, not really. I presented my case, and their defense was to assert that Penny wanted a gang bang and changed her mind after the fact.” She rubbed her arms as Dylan made a disgusted sound behind her. “Who knows what Penny thought she wanted. She said no, and they ignored her.”
“Blaming the victim never gets old,” Rochelle muttered before handing Cassidy a stack of notes. “You are a popular woman today.”
She glanced through the pile of pink paper. Both her parents, the brother not on his honeymoon, Detective Monroe, Officer Morgan, and Detective Delmonico. Just another day at the office. “Why did half my family call?”
Rochelle's eyes focused on the man behind her, and Cassidy laughed. “They were not worried about me and Dylan, were they?”
The other woman chuckled. “No, honey, they were worried about you with Dylan, there. We were all at the wedding. Then y'all disappeared until this morning.”
She blew out a breath that would've sent bangs flying if she'd had any. “We didn't disappear. We retreated. My townhouse was ransacked, our computers were stolen, and then Judge Simmons was killed. Dylan's house is much safer than mine.”
“All of that may be true, but I can't help but think something else is going on.”
She felt her cheeks heat. Something else was certainly going on, and she was having a hard time compartmentalizing it as something quick and casual. She had to say something, and Dylan was staying quiet, just as he had in the hallway earlier. “Even so, his house is safer,” she answered.
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