Hard To Handle

by Kylie Brant

  “Are you worried about me, Detective?” Her voice was mocking. “Don’t be. I learned a long time ago that the only person I can trust is myself.”

  Her statement hit him with the force of a punch. He could have echoed the words himself; certainly he believed the same. But he knew the kind of knocks it had taken to shape his cynical point of view. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he didn’t like to consider the kind of experiences that might have shaped hers.

  He perched on her coffee table, retaining a position close to her. “There’s no use taking stupid chances if you don’t have to. Wadrell’s a slime. You know he’s more interested in your body than in your sister’s death.”

  Her chin angled and she met him stare for stare. “Why do you care?”

  Their gazes battled for long moments before Gabe finally answered. “Let’s just say that I don’t like to see people taken advantage of. And I’ve never been a fan of Wadrell’s.”

  Meghan looked beyond his shoulder to the clock on the wall. It was after ten. Early, really. But all of a sudden she was weary, clear to the bone. The time she’d spent with Wadrell had put her on edge. She still didn’t doubt her ability to keep him at arm’s length, but she was beginning to question the wisdom of her plan. She would have only the detective’s word, after all, that he’d actually conducted another investigation into the accident. She’d have no reason to believe him. And no choice not to. When Danny was old enough to be given the details, the very least he deserved were the facts involved in his mother’s death. All of them.

  She glanced at Connally again. Sitting atop her table, he was much too close. Much too…physical. He was big enough to project a subtle threat sheerly through his stature. The breadth of his heavy shoulders blocked her view of the room behind him, and the broad chest beneath his crossed arms depicted a certain power. In a studiedly casual move, she settled more deeply into the couch cushions. It was ridiculous to feel that the slight movement had put some much-needed distance between them. Ridiculous, because there was nothing about his actions or his expression to suggest she had anything to fear from him.

  Except that he was a cop. He was in her apartment, and he was intent on dragging Danny into the middle of a police investigation.

  “I have another option for you to consider.” His voice, coming after a minute of silence, seemed raspier than usual.

  “Forget Wadrell. Let me help you instead.”

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. He’d never be considered one of those white knights charging to rescue ladies in distress. He found jackets and ties confining enough; armor would be murder.

  He shook off the fanciful thought. “You want something. So do I. I’ll take another look into the accident for you. In return, you’ll cooperate by allowing Danny to assist us in any way we need him.” As if sensing the protest she was about to utter, he went on quickly, “You get what you want, I get what I want. It’ll be strictly business.” Her cooperation would make his job easier. He didn’t want to chance her sabotaging him at every turn, maybe even coaching the boy to tell them nothing. He needed every lead he could get on this case.

  Everything inside Meghan recoiled from accepting his offer. For different reasons, she was even more loath to spend time in his presence than she was in Wadrell’s. And there was no way, absolutely none, that she would let Danny get embroiled with the police. She knew nothing about raising children. But the one thing she did know was that her psychic ability had ruined Sandra’s life. If she could spare Danny only one thing, it would be that.

  Connally was speaking again. “Of course, maybe you have other reasons to want to stick with Wadrell. Maybe you really wouldn’t mind if you and he…” He made a gesture with his hand which, along with his tone, made his message clear.

  Meghan’s indignation overcame her caution. “Believe me, I find cops eminently resistible. For that matter, how can I be sure that I wouldn’t have to fight off your advances?”

  He didn’t appear to take offense. “’Cause I make it a point to steer wide of your type. So if we partner up for a while, you won’t have to worry about me coming on to you.”

  He watched her intently, but when she failed to respond, he said, “If you need convincing…” Before she could guess his intention, he leaned forward in one smooth movement and covered her mouth with his own.

  Shock held Meghan motionless. The man was completely outrageous! She managed to raise her hand to his chest before her bones began to take on the consistency of warm wax. It was like kissing a flash of lightning, she thought fuzzily—all sizzling heat and banked strength. There was an unexpected measure of wildness to his taste, layered beneath a hint of tightly harnessed control.

  He wasn’t a man to ask permission, and there was no entreaty in his touch. Her hand lingered, forgotten, on his chest as he angled his head and pressed her lips open. His tongue boldly swept in, exchanging her flavor for his own.

  Her heart spun once, then kicked a faster beat. He tasted foreign, and primally male. His hand cupped her jaw, his fingers caressing her throat, and the dual assault made her shiver and want, with a suddenness that was all the more frightening for its being completely unfamiliar.

  His mouth lifted from hers a fraction, lingered a moment, then eased away.

  She stared at him, stunned. “Just what was that supposed to convince me of?” Her voice was threadier than she would have wished, but at least it was steady.

  Gabe reached for the glass he’d set down, and brought it to his lips for a long swallow. His eyes avoided hers. “Just proving my point. Neither of us is attracted to the other. That kiss left you cold, right? Me, too.”

  Cold? Numb, maybe. Achy, certainly. But cold? A sheerly feminine ire fueled her next words. “The next time you try conducting a little experiment like that you’d better be wearing protection.” She left no doubt that she wasn’t referring to his gun. “The only point you convinced me of is that I’m no better off with you than with Wadrell.”

  He looked impatient at her words. “Use your head.” Holding up his fingers, he enumerated, “One, I’m not the detective you hold indirectly responsible for your sister’s death. Two, I outrank Wadrell and I’m better liked. I’ve got guys who’ll be willing to do me favors when I poke into the accident investigation. I doubt Wadrell can get his own mother to invite him to Sunday dinner. And three, we’ve just shown that physically we don’t do a thing for each other.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest to keep from strangling him.

  “You won’t have to worry about me making moves on you, because I like women with more obvious…uh…charms.” He cocked his head, pretending not to see the simmer of latent temper in her eyes. “Unless…you can’t do that little tassel trick I’ve seen, can you? You know—” his index fingers circled in the air in front of his chest “—the one where you get them going in opposite directions?” When she didn’t respond, couldn’t, he shook his head. “I didn’t think so. So as near as I can tell, us matching up would be perfect. There’ll be no personal interest on my side, and if you can promise the same there won’t be any complications at all.”

  The deep-breathing exercises learned at Miss Devain’s School of Deportment had never been more necessary. The actual physical effort of filling her lungs with oxygen almost took Meghan’s mind off the shockingly primal urge to knock that complacent expression off Connally’s face. The strength of the temptation was shocking. Civility was a quality not only valued by her family, but demanded. Tremaynes didn’t indulge in spectacles. There had been no public displays of temper or of affection. Every conversation, every cutting remark, was made in the same chillingly dispassionate tone. The genuine lack of emotion displayed by her mother and grandparents had confused and saddened Meghan by turns.

  However, it wasn’t a lack of emotion that was bothering Meghan right now, but the imminent volcanic eruption that this man was close to eliciting. Her gaze narrowed at his bland expression. He was goading her; he
had to be. Surely no one could be that irritating, unless by design. What he was suggesting was out of the question. There was no way she was going to shackle herself to Connally willingly, no matter what he promised to do for her.

  When she didn’t respond, he shrugged and rose. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ve got one piece of advice for you, though. Stay in public places when you meet with Wadrell. You’ll be safer there.”

  His words triggered the memory of what she’d gone through to avoid Wadrell’s touch earlier that evening, and a renewed shudder of revulsion prickled her skin. Connally was right about one thing. She didn’t relish having to fight off the other detective’s smarmy advances.

  She glanced at Connally, reconsidering. She could make Danny’s cooperation dependent upon him showing her evidence of a renewed look at Sandra’s accident. She’d get what she wanted up-front, and that would be the end of their agreement.

  Because of course she had no intention of going through with her side of the arrangement.

  Ruthlessly she brushed aside a whisper of conscience. She didn’t owe anything to this man, especially after his recent display. And the CPD certainly didn’t rate her honesty. The only one she owed was Danny. And the sister who would never know the lengths to which Meghan had gone to make amends for a lifetime of estrangement between them.

  “You may have a point.” His hand on the knob of the front door, Gabe looked back at her words. She moistened her lips nervously. “You understand that I’ll require something solid to convince me that you actually followed up on the accident.”

  He regarded her soberly. “And you understand that I’ll hold you to your end of our bargain.”

  It took effort not to reveal the direct hit his words had scored. “Of course.”

  He gave a short nod. “I’ll be in touch, then.” He opened the door and advised, “You’d better lock this after me.”

  She approached silently. Gabe gave her a long look, then she swung the door shut on him. He stood, listening to the sound of her securing the dead bolt. Then he released a long breath and started down the hall, feeling as though he’d just run a marathon.

  He was a master at getting what he wanted, but he’d have to admit that this was the first time he’d had to deny any attraction to a woman in exchange for her cooperation. It had taken a lot of talking, and more, to convince Meghan that she had nothing to fear from him physically, that he didn’t want her, on any level. The words had been easy to say, easier to mean…until he’d tasted her and felt a surge of violent emotion that proved otherwise.

  He gave an involuntary look upward. Lucky for him that God didn’t smite down bald-faced liars. He’d have been a goner.

  Chapter 4

  Gabe hunched over the steaming cup of coffee on his desk, wishing he could just inject the caffeine into his bloodstream without the necessity of actually swallowing the stuff. It was the unwritten rule of every squad room he’d been in that the coffee had to be as thick and black as sludge, and just as tasty.

  In front of him was the report from D’Brusco’s parole officer. According to it, Lenny had lined up a job shortly after his release from prison. As manager of Ultimate Video, he was in charge of a full half-dozen branch stores in the city. That a convicted felon would be put in charge of any business involving cash was in itself cause for suspicion. He was dying to ask Lenny’s superior how the ex-con had come to be hired. But they hadn’t caught up with the guy yet. Supposedly he was out of the country.

  The smell of the coffee beckoned, promising a caffeine jolt that Gabe badly needed. He used to do his best thinking over a morning cup of coffee and a cigarette. The nicotine was out, and after the restless night he’d spent, the coffee was his only hope. Wincing a little, he lifted the cup to his lips and manfully took a gulp.

  “Yech!” The acrid brew seared its way through his system. He could almost feel his stomach lining peeling under its impact. “You’d think someone around here could learn to make decent coffee.”

  “I think they just warmed up yesterday’s,” one of the other detectives offered. Grimacing, Gabe took another swallow.

  Cal looked up from the report he was reading and frowned disapprovingly. “You can’t believe how much better I’ve felt since I gave up caffeine.”

  Gabe sipped again, more carefully this time. “Yeah, I was there when you were going through withdrawal. You were in prime shape, all right.”

  “The cravings don’t last long. And the organic juices that Becky buys aren’t that bad. Once I started drinking them, I felt fitter and stronger almost immediately.”

  “I liked you better when you were weak and unhealthy.” Gabe hadn’t even gotten over his urge for nicotine yet. The thought of giving up caffeine, as well, had him raising the mug again. The coffee might not have been so critical if he’d gotten a decent night’s sleep. But memories of that brief kiss he’d shared with Meghan had been annoyingly persistent. Mere seconds shouldn’t have left him with such exquisite recall of the taste of her mouth, silky and warm, or the touch of her skin, almost unbearably soft. Her scent curled through his memory, a drift of something mysterious and alluring. It was unusual for him to lose sleep over any female. It was even more unusual for thoughts of a woman to tangle in his mind, refusing to be shaken.

  A small eraser whizzed past his face and narrowly missed landing in his coffee mug. Cocking a brow, he looked at Cal. “Those juices haven’t improved your aim any.”

  “And the caffeine hasn’t improved your listening skills. I asked you what you thought of bringing the kid in and having him look at some pictures, try to ID Lenny’s friend. Get your mind off spending the upcoming weekend with your flavor of the month and concentrate, will you?”

  Slouched in his chair, legs propped on his desk and crossed at the ankle, Gabe still managed an indignant expression. “I’m trying to concentrate. But you keep interrupting me.”

  Cal rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I forgot. Genius at work always looks like a nap in a hammock.”

  “Just so you recognize the genius, pal. And we’re not going to pull the kid in just yet.” He reached forward, set the mug on his desk.

  “Don’t tell me you’re beginning to doubt being able to work your magic on the Patterson woman? Could it be fear that the mighty Connally charm will strike out?”

  Gabe linked his hands behind his head. “My lifetime batting average notwithstanding, it’s too early to play that card.” The fact that he had to bribe Meghan to get the boy’s cooperation wasn’t something he wanted to share with his partner. “We’d just be fishing at this point, anyway. We haven’t come up with any KAs that match the description the kid gave us. When we bring him in, I want it to count. His aunt still isn’t real happy about his involvement in this case. I doubt we’ll get more than one shot with him.”

  Looking doubtful, Cal said, “Maybe we shouldn’t count on being able to use the kid at all. Patterson didn’t look like the type to change her mind.”

  “She already has.” Gabe didn’t attempt to keep the smugness from his voice. “We’ve reached an agreement. She’ll let the boy help, but it’s not a card I want to play until we have to.”

  Uh-oh. He’d said too much. Cal’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You and she reached an agreement.”

  “Yep.” The phone on his desk rang then, and he reached for it in gratitude, strangely unwilling to share all the details of the arrangement he’d made with Meghan. After a few moments he dropped the receiver in its cradle and looked at his partner. “That was Parker at the twenty-first. He mentioned a few places we could look for Siemons.” Eddie Siemons had been the informant who’d been responsible for bringing D’Brusco’s activities to the attention of the police. He’d been dubbed Fast Eddie by vice detectives for the swiftness with which he offered up information in return for a blind eye being turned to his own activities. It was he who had shared some details about D’Brusco in an effort to get Parker to drop a pandering charge against him. The tip had been passed
on to the organized crime unit and landed in Gabe’s and Cal’s laps. Since Lenny’s disappearance, they had a few more questions for the man.

  Gabe swung his feet off his desk, but Madison didn’t move. “So you saw Ms. Patterson last night? And you managed to convince her to allow the boy to help?” Gabe rose and shrugged into his rumpled suit jacket, jamming a hand in one pocket to pull out an equally crumpled tie, which he slipped on and knotted. The action succeeded in switching his partner’s focus. “When’s the last time you had that jacket dry-cleaned?”

  Donning his leather coat, Gabe lifted a shoulder. “What difference does it make? It’s not dirty.”

  Cal slipped his parka over his muted gray suit coat. “A good pressing wouldn’t hurt it.”

  Tone lofty, Gabe informed him, “I’m not interested in making a fashion statement.”

  “The way you dress you’re more like a fashion tragedy.” Gabe waited until his partner had started away from the desk, still detailing Gabe’s failures in the fashion department, and then stealthily slipped open his middle desk drawer and reached nimble fingers inside.

  “And you never did explain how you happened to see Ms. Patterson again last night.” Cal swung around. “I hope you didn’t—”

  Suspicion stamped Cal’s face as Gabe froze. “What are you doing, Connally? Do you have cigarettes in there?” He rapidly retraced his steps.

  “Of course not.” Indignation threading his voice, Gabe withdrew a pen and held it up for his partner to see. “I was just getting my lucky pen.” He slammed the drawer shut before Cal rounded the desk. “You’re getting to be a real nag, you know it?”

  Cal’s gaze traced between the closed desk drawer and Gabe’s face, before he gradually relaxed. “I’m just trying to help you quit.” The two men made their way through the maze of desks while Cal embarked on yet another of his endless sermons on the hazards of smoking. Gabe’s concentration drifted. He’d heard it all before. He had more important things on his mind, at any rate. There was Siemons to find and work. He still needed to get someone lined up to look into Barton’s accident for Meghan. The sooner he fulfilled his end of their agreement, the sooner she’d let the kid cooperate.