Reluctant Witness

by Rachel Brimble

  Lifting her chin, she walked purposefully to the door. The man was a cop, not a date. Who cared what he thought of her sleeping attire, or her house, for that matter? She threw back the bolt and opened the door.

  A bag of Chinese takeaway greeted her. She couldn’t fight her grin or ignore the way her heart flipped over in her chest. He peeked around the side of the bag.

  “Hungry?” he asked, his boyish grin roguishly wide.

  “You’d better come in.” She stepped to the side, wanting him to go first, so he didn’t see her butt in her saggy pajama bottoms. “The kitchen’s through there.”

  He brushed past her and Julia nodded appreciatively at his rock hard butt. Oh, yes, far better to be the viewer than the viewee. With an unconscious skip, Julia followed him into the kitchen.

  “I assumed the reason for this visit would be more unwanted questions, not to ply me with Chinese food,” she said.

  “I hope the food is a better option.” He smiled and dumped the bag on the kitchen table.

  “Absolutely, you’ll hear no complaints from me.” Their eyes locked for a moment and Julia vowed that whatever happened in the next hour or so, she would not ask him about The Promise. No way, no how. That particular ball could remain firmly in his court. “So...” she said. “Did you manage to track down any debt agencies in Kendlewood?”

  “Two. I’ll run down there in the morning and check them out.”

  She pulled some plates from the cupboard and laid them on the table while Daniel busied himself sorting out the various boxes, chopsticks and napkins.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I pretty much ordered everything,” he said, a hint of color staining his cheeks.

  Julia laughed. “I can see that. How much food did you buy? There’s enough here to invite the neighbors over for something too.”

  He grinned. “I’m sure we’ll get through it if we try hard enough.”

  Julia swallowed. It felt so normal to have him there, standing in her kitchen, spooning egg fried rice onto a plate already steaming with sweet and sour chicken. She discreetly drank him in. Her gaze traveled down his torso, over his ridiculously muscular thighs, right down to his sock-covered feet...

  Her eyes widened. “Where are your shoes?”

  “I left them on the doorstep.”

  “What? How did you know I’d even be in?”

  He shrugged. “If you weren’t, I’d have just put them back on again. No big deal.”

  She bit back a laugh. “Do you always do that?”

  “It’s the polite thing to do in other people’s homes, don’t you think?” he asked, sucking sauce from his finger. “Now, where are your wine glasses?”

  Julia was contemplating how amazingly adorable a six-foot-two man could suddenly look in just his socks, when she caught the way he was watching her. “What?” she asked.

  “You’re doing that zoning out thing again.” He smiled.

  “Am I?” she asked, her face suddenly warm. “Do I do it often?”

  “Not really,” he said, taking a step toward her. “It only seems to happen every now and then when you’re looking at me.”

  He took another step closer and Julia shot past him to the cupboard where the wineglasses were kept. She flung open the door and held the glasses aloft like trophies.

  “Ta-da!” She panted. “We have glasses.”

  He moved to the side, that annoyingly sexy smile still on his face. She filled the glasses with the smooth, Cabernet Sauvignon he’d brought, and they carried their drinks and overflowing plates into the living room. Side by side, they sat down on the settee.

  “I’m guessing you like candles?” Daniel said, glancing around the room.

  Feeling more than a little self-conscious, Julia laughed. “They help me relax.” She’d lit at least twenty of the damn things tonight.

  “I’m all for that.” He smiled at her. “Tuck in. I expect to see a completely clean plate.”

  “I’ll try.”

  As soon as the first mouthful touched her tongue, Julia realized just how hungry she was. When Phil had died, she’d lost nearly thirty pounds and had looked like an extra from Michael Jackson’s Thriller video. She did not want to go down that road again under the pressure of Derek’s murder and Marcus’ increasingly erratic behavior.

  She stole a glance at Daniel as he struggled to pick up some noodles with his chopsticks and smiled. She felt safe with him sitting beside her and her appetite was back with a vengeance.

  “Fancy swapping a spring roll for a prawn cracker?” she asked.

  He picked up a cracker and surprised her by putting it to her lips. She let him feed her before turning back to her plate, resolutely refusing to think anything else was happening here other than two people sharing a meal. They spent the next twenty minutes exchanging odd bits of conversation, purposefully steering away from Derek’s murder, Marcus, and each other.

  Julia pushed her empty plate onto the coffee table and thanked God for the elasticized waistband of her pajamas. “Phew, I am stuffed!”

  Daniel laughed. “You finished the plate though. My mission is complete.”

  “How could I not? It was fantastic.”

  He scraped up the last grains of rice on his own plate before leaning forward and placing it on top of hers. He reached for their glasses of wine and passed one to her.

  “Here.”

  “Thanks.” Their fingers brushed and Julia felt a bolt of electricity rush through her. The atmosphere was intimate, the mood shifting. There were so many things she wanted to know about Daniel Conway. The man, not the cop. Her mother’s tear-stained face filled her mind and the guilt she felt for really beginning to like and respect this man stole grasping fingers around her heart. She took a sip of wine, and laid her head back against the sofa. She watched his profile as he looked around the room and blinked back the sudden burning behind her eyes.

  She knew she was heading for trouble. Terrible, potentially explosive trouble. How could she possibly contemplate kissing a cop? Her mother’s heart would never recover. She cleared her throat. Maybe she should ask him about the promise. Maybe it would push him far enough away that he withdrew from her completely.

  She turned to look at him. “What did you mean earlier? When we were talking in the car?”

  He didn’t look at her. “When?”

  “You know. The Promise.”

  He took a sip of his wine before slowly exhaling. “Oh. That.”

  “Yes, that. You looked so...angry...no, sad. Oh, I don’t know. But it definitely wasn’t anything to do with me and Marcus. It was more personal than that, wasn’t it?”

  His broad shoulders immediately tensed high around his neck and before she could stop herself, Julia reached out a hand and gently touched his arm. “Daniel?”

  He dropped back against the settee alongside her. You’re right. It was personal. No, it is personal.”

  He turned to meet her eyes and her heart kicked against her ribcage in one swift jolt to see such torment.

  “What happened?” she asked, quietly.

  “My father was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” she whispered.

  “Murdered. Shot through the heart with a single bullet.”

  “Oh, my God. I am so sorry.” She moved her hand and let it cover his, as it lay limp on his knee.

  “I was nine years old. He’d pushed me inside a cupboard so the men who’d come after him wouldn’t know I was there. They shot him in cold blood as I watched through a gap in the cupboard doors. If I close my eyes I can still hear the sound of the shot and the crack of wood as my father fell against the door.”

  Julia squeezed his hand. “Oh, God. I don’t know what to say.”

  He tried to smile. “There’s nothing you can say. That day I vowed to become a cop just like him.”

  “He was a cop?”

  “Yep, and a bloody good one. Just maybe not good enough to prevent getting himself shot.” He continued to look at her. “I was e
ighteen when I signed up. I worked hard, kept long hours until I was finally promoted to detective at twenty-two. Made my mother’s day to see me.”

  “Does she live close by?”

  “She goes where I go. Afraid of something happening to me, I guess. If I’m re-located, she comes too. I’d love her to meet a special someone for herself one day, shift the focus from me a little.” He smiled but Julia could tell it was hard for him. “But I don’t think she will, I never known her to even look at another guy my whole life.”

  Julia sighed. “The one thing I know for sure is you should count your blessings if true love shows up in your life once, let alone twice.”

  He turned her hand over and stroked his finger along the pale yellow bruising on her wrist. “Absolutely.”

  She shivered involuntarily at the way his eyes lingered with hers just a little longer than necessary. She swallowed and gently pulled her hand from his grip.

  “You know, my parents are still as deeply in love as the day they married. Maybe more so. My mom is having a few difficulties right now, but I know they’re going to be OK. I used to watch them and wonder how love like theirs was possible, but it is. They would laugh like teenagers and pull funny faces at each other when they thought nobody was looking.”

  “So what happened?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You said your parents are still in love but then changed to past tense.”

  “Did I?”

  He nodded. “You said, they used to laugh and joke.”

  Unable to look at him, she closed her eyes. “There’s something you don’t know about me. Something that happened to me and my family.”

  He shifted his weight so he directly faced her and Julia felt perspiration break out cold on the back of her neck.

  “I’m listening,” he said.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, not quite believing she was about to tell a cop, of all people, about Phil’s death. When she opened her eyes and met his gaze, that inexplicable security settled over her like a well-worn comforter.

  “My brother died just over six months ago,” she began. “There hasn’t been a lot of laughter in my mother’s house since that day. He was mistaken for a robber holding up the garage. He was shot dead...by a cop.”

  Her whoosh of released breath sounded loud in the room. He took her icy cold hand in both of his. “I know, Julia.”

  She nodded. “I sort of guessed as much.”

  “I wanted to hear it from you. I’m sorry.”

  Julia waited for the outbreak of her stored anger, the release of indignant affront, but it didn’t come. Instead she felt the tiniest lifting of weight from her soul. It was not an enormous amount, but it felt significant—as though Daniel had taken a small piece of her endless grief and put it onto his shoulders in an effort to help her.

  “I understand.” She smiled tentatively.

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh. There’s something inside me that needed to hear your promise, too.”

  “A secret for a secret?”

  “Something like that.”

  His shoulders relaxed a little. “I didn’t immediately link your name with your brother’s, although I should have. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So...what about you?” he asked. “How are you?”

  Her heart contracted. “I’m fine.”

  “Julia.”

  “Come on, Daniel, I’ve told you about Phil, but I won’t be talking about my own feelings any time soon, OK?”

  “With me? Or with anyone?”

  She swallowed. “With anyone.”

  He picked up his wine glass and took a gulp. “I promised myself I would never let another killer walk away like my father’s did.”

  “Your father’s killer was never found? Not even after all this time?”

  “Nope, and the likelihood is he never will be. Too much time has passed. That’s why time is of the essence in Derek’s case.”

  Julia felt sick. She was the sole witness and she couldn’t even describe Derek’s killer to him. “I feel so useless. If only I could have made out the killer’s face, or the name of the boat. Something.”

  “We’ll find him, Julia.”

  “But the guy could be half way round the world by now.”

  “We’ll find him.”

  His soft, velvety gaze wandered over her hair, her eyes, her lips. They glimmered with intensity and her skin hummed with the burning need to be touched. She suddenly craved the feel of his fingers edging over her body, the heat of his tongue inside her mouth.

  The words were out before she could stop them. “Will you kiss me, Daniel?”

  He hesitated. “Kiss you?”

  She nodded.

  And then he took her wineglass and put it on the coffee table with his own. Her heart beat a wild tattoo in her chest. He turned, faltered for a second, then cupped her face in his hands. Her eyes flickered closed as he leaned toward her. She felt the soft warmth of his breath and the gentle caress of his thumbs as he drew them across her closed lids.

  The sofa creaked faintly under his weight as he moved closer, and Julia slowly opened her eyes. He was still watching her, his gaze slowly gliding over her face. How could one man’s attention make you feel so incredibility beautiful? The corners of his mouth lifted.

  “I think you’re pretty wonderful, do you know that?”

  She laughed quietly. “I thought you were going to kiss me, not look at me.”

  “I am. I will.”

  His lips were warm against hers. She watched his eyes drift shut and felt the soft whisper of his possession. Her own body relaxed into submission as her fingers smoothed up over the thick span of his bicep to grip his shoulder. Brazenly, she pushed her tongue into his mouth. She wanted to tease, to play, to feel his increasing arousal.

  The kiss was so natural. It built slowly, the flames flickering, catching and then burning before dying back and re-igniting again. Julia clung to him, gratefully pulling his weight against her. She was aware of his huge hands spanning her waist and enjoyed the rare sensation of feeling so small.

  More for the need to catch her breath, than wanting to end the kiss, she slowly pulled away. Their breathing was now a little faster than before. She opened her mouth to say something but Daniel spoke first.

  “I’ll more than likely get fired if anyone finds out I did that but right now I couldn’t care less,” he said, smiling softly in the shadow of the candlelight.

  She gently laughed. “Believe me, if my mother could see us, another murder would be committed.”

  He brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “That protective, huh? Understandable, I suppose.”

  “Something like that.”

  Julia pursed her lips together to stop herself from saying more, and for a long moment they sat looking at each other.

  “Do you want another glass of wine?” she asked, tentatively.

  He blew out a breath. “No, I’d...um...better be going. Early start in the morning.”

  When he stood, she did too. She wanted to tell him to stay, to go upstairs with her right now and finish what they’d started, but it was impossible. He was right. He could lose his job and she would break her mother’s heart. She stooped to pick up their glasses, anything to avoid looking at him.

  With amazing clarity it smacked her between the eyes, that she was teetering on the edge of a deep and endless abyss. Barely a step away from falling into it, hard and head first. She could not risk looking into his eyes, seeing he felt the same overwhelming desire.

  But the fight was fruitless. She needed to see, needed to know. When she finally lifted her head, it was clear Daniel’s thoughts were far from mirroring her own. He looked afraid.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

  “Sure.” She plastered a smile on her face before walking from the room and into the hallway. The light above them was far too bright and glowed like an unwe
lcome spotlight.

  Julia bit down on her bottom lip when he bent to put on his shoes. The thought that she might never be drawn to someone like this again suddenly frightened her more than any threat from Marcus or her mother could.

  He straightened. “Thanks for a wonderful night.”

  “Daniel?”

  “Yes?”

  She hesitated. “Thanks for the food.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He stepped forward and kissed her cheek before he turned and walked out the door.

  Chapter Seven

  Daniel awoke to find his bedroom flooded with another morning of bright sunshine. For a few seconds he lay peacefully awake, the previous night escaping his memory. But as he stretched his arms above his head, the memory returned and crashed into him like a demolition ball.

  He pulled the pillow over his face and groaned.

  The groan wasn’t from regret. Nor was it the sound of a man waking from a night of bad decisions and too much tequila. Daniel Conway groaned from the realization that he might have just plonked his heart down right in front of Julia Kershaw like an offering on a silver platter.

  Her lips had tasted like nothing he’d ever sampled before. She was so...He grinned...so bloody sexy. Her eyes drew you in, her scent tempting and provocative, but her kiss? Jesus. He felt himself grow hard beneath the cotton sheets and grimaced. How old was he? Fourteen? God, this was bad.

  She had bashed headlong into his life and now he felt as though he’d do anything to keep her there. He wanted to hear her laugh, hold her when she cried, listen as she told him about her life, in fact, learn every little thing about her. He swallowed, hard. For the first time in his life, there was a real possibility he could be falling in love.

  The only snag in this happily ever after? Julia Kershaw was the key—no, the only—witness his murder investigation. It wasn’t professional and God knew he had always been professional.

  He leapt from the bed and into the bathroom. He needed to take a freezing cold shower before he completely lost his senses.

  An hour later he had checked in at the station and was on his way to Kendlewood. A bigger town than Corkley Park, people came to Kendlewood to either work, shop or do business. It did not echo with laughter, fun and the good times of its seaside neighbor. Both towns were under Daniel’s jurisdiction but as far as Daniel was concerned, the sooner he got back to Corkley Park, the better.