DADDY WITH A BADGE

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  "It was rude and inconsiderate, and caused me no end of grief."

  Alarm ran through him. "Grief?" he asked cautiously.

  She shot him an irritable look over one slender shoulder. "Absolutely. Shrinks are trained to have an insatiable curiosity, you know."

  He allowed himself a brief smile. "Kinda like cops."

  Steam caused her hair to curl into those sexy little wisps again. His body gave another insistent surge. He blocked it out.

  "Exactly. And when someone in your, uh, situation gets a message to call his boss one minute and then suddenly is nowhere in sight the next, a whole carillon of bells starts jangling in my curious little brain."

  "I take your point, and I apologize."

  She banged the spoon on the pot before lifting the lid on a large saucepan. The mouthwatering smells were coming from that, he decided as his stomach gave a hopeful rumble.

  "It wasn't about delinquent paperwork, was it?" Her shoulders were stiff with tension, and her breathing was just a little too rapid. It was because he'd remembered how quick she'd always been to read any kind of evasion in him that he hadn't said goodbye.

  "No, it was about Folsom. We found him."

  She spun around, the large wooden spoon held like a sword, her face paling as he watched. "Where?"

  "In Bellingham, Washington. The computer guys scared up an address and Seth and I staked it out on the chance he'd show up. We arrested him late yesterday afternoon and brought him back to Portland today. He's presently in custody."

  Her mouth trembled, then firmed. "Jonathan's actually in jail?"

  "He's actually in jail." He hoped to hell they'd thrown him in with some real dirtbags. With a little luck he'd get himself shanked in the shower room and save the government the cost of a trial.

  "Did he say what he did with my money?" The hope in her voice had him biting down hard.

  "He didn't even admit he knew you—or Jonathan Sommerset."

  "The bastard," she said with heartfelt disgust. "I hope he rots there."

  Rafe debated how much to tell her now, how much to hold back until she wasn't so emotional. Though she looked almost completely recovered from her bout with the flu, he'd do just about anything to keep her from doing her rag doll thing again. After studying her face, he decided to go with some positive news first.

  "It's possible we recovered the ring you reported stolen." He pulled the evidence bag from the pocket of his jeans and held it out to her. "Do you recognize this?"

  Shock replaced the moment of curiosity, and her breath hissed in. "Oh Rafe." Eagerly she put down the spoon before taking the baggy from his hand. "Oh God, yes! It's mine. My engagement ring. The one Mark gave me." Her face softened as she rubbed her finger over the glittering stone. "He insisted it had to be one of a kind, so he had it designed just for me. When I saw it for the first time, I thought it was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. I still do."

  It took him a moment to realize the emotion ripping at his gut was jealousy. He wanted to snarl. He wanted to jerk her against him and kiss her until Fabrizio was less than a pale memory. He wanted her with a desperation that burned away years of denial until he felt as though his skin was on fire.

  It took effort, but he managed to ice the feelings the way he'd iced other injuries suffered in the line of duty.

  "Can I open the bag?" she asked eagerly, her eyes bright now with joy.

  "No, sorry," he said with real regret. "It has to be entered into evidence with the seal intact. Otherwise, the integrity is violated."

  "Oh yes, of course. I should have realized." She ran her blunt fingernail over his scrawled initials. "I'd planned to give this ring to Lyssa on her sixteenth birthday. A … A present from her daddy. It was the worst, knowing she had nothing left of him but memories. Now, thanks to you, I—" She closed her hand carefully over the bag, then turned away.

  Picked up the spoon.

  Put it down again

  "I'm making clam sauce I…" Her voice broke. "Damn," she muttered in a shredded voice, her hand going to her tummy. "My p-poor little angel baby. Saddled with a mommy who's an emotional basket case."

  "Ah hell," he muttered under his breath as he pulled his hands from his pockets and turned her to face him. Plain tears he could handle, no sweat, he told himself. He was used to tears. Victims cried. Suspects cried. Hell, he'd had partners who bawled their eyes out. What none of them had done, however, is gaze up at him with shimmering sad angel eyes that pleaded with him to make it right.

  He cursed fate.

  He cursed the Mancini brothers and the bastard she married.

  He cursed himself for being a fool for that look.

  "It's been a while, but I think I can still manage a hug if it would help."

  She stood stiffly for a moment, and then with a helpless little cry, she was burrowing against his chest, her arms hugging him hard and her nose buried in the open collar of his shirt. She fitted against him perfectly, but he'd already known that. From the moment he'd kissed her the first time, she'd been in his blood. A part of him.

  Giving up the fight, he tightened his arms and rested his cheek against her silky curls. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent, something light and flowery and familiar. Suddenly, in his mind's eye he saw her in the moonlight, her eyes glowing with passion. He saw himself, a boy who touched her with a man's need.

  A boy who'd loved too much.

  There wasn't much of that boy left in him. Still, he tried to be gentle as he rubbed his hand in slow circles in the small of her back. "You may be a basket case at the moment," he murmured into her hair, "but you're a strong woman, strongest woman I know. Heck, my jaw still stings from that right cross you laid on me."

  She made a choked little noise, then drew back to lay her fingers against his jaw. "I don't see any permanent damage." Her eyes were dark with apology, but her voice reflected her determination to keep things light.

  Her house, her rules, he thought as he answered with a lazy grin.

  "Not all wounds show, Princess." Then, because he'd been making his own rules for a long time now, be tightened his arms and brought his mouth to hers quickly before either of them could think.

  God, the need, the wild exhilaration! It jolted him. It frightened him. The hot rush of blood through his veins, the reckless urge to take her fast and hard, thrusting into her again and again until he was free of the anger and resentment and humiliation.

  Until he was free of her.

  Driven by something primitive and raw and barely under his control, he pushed her back against the counter and fisted his hands in her hair. The muscles of his thighs burned as he rubbed his distended groin against her rounded tummy.

  Danni gasped, her world spinning wildly. Desperate to touch him, she jerked his shirt free of his jeans, her palms skimming taut, warm flesh. Eagerly she touched him, feeling needs grow and bunch.

  When he teased her mouth open, then plundered with his tongue, the spasm of pleasure taking her was so great she raked her nails across his spine. Beneath her nails, his muscles rippled, then turned hard as his breath hissed into her open mouth. He groaned her name, crowded closer until every inch of those powerful thighs was molded to hers. With every frantic breath she took she was acutely conscious of the insistent pressure of the thick ridge of him against her abdomen.

  Pleasure built low in her body until she no longer had rational thought. Helpless to resist, she pulled him closer, until she could scarcely breathe. He lifted one knee, prying her legs apart, then rubbed his thigh against the delta of her thighs.

  She gasped, then shuddered as a shattering spasm took her away. He swallowed her cries, then pressed her head against his chest until the aftershocks passed. Boneless, she sagged against him, listening to the fierce pounding of his heart beneath a shirt that was damp with his sweat.

  Finally, when her breathing had slowed, he drew back, his eyes hot and hungry on hers. A pulse hammered in his throat and he seemed to be having equal difficulty
drawing a steady breath.

  "We have unfinished business, Princess," he said hoarsely.

  "Yes," she whispered because anything but brutal honesty would be useless.

  Something dangerous blazed in his eyes and his voice was suddenly rough and thick with tension. "I could have taken you now, with your daughter upstairs and your pasta boiling on the stove." His thumb stroked the curve of her bottom lip and she couldn't move. "And you would have let me, wouldn't you?"

  He was right. Still, she clung to the last little scrap of free will as she slid her hands to his sides and gave his solid midriff a token shove. Keeping his gaze on hers, he moved back slowly, like a man bracing for a blow, but only far enough to allow her to breathe more easily.

  "It's … it's a common dynamic," she said, scrambling as fast as she could for safer ground. "Lack of closure often generates feelings of heightened emotion between two people who are essentially strangers."

  His mouth quirked. "Emotions, heightened or otherwise, are your business, Princess. Me, I'm more of a bottom-line guy. In this case, I want to be inside you the next time you use those kitten claws on my back."

  She felt her cheeks grow hot. "Yes, well, there is a physical element, I grant you."

  He flashed that bad boy grin at her, and his gaze was suddenly full of the very devil. "Ah, you want to jump my bones. I promise I won't resist."

  He skimmed his palms over her buttocks, then lifted her against him. He was full and heavy behind the fly of his jeans. Try as she might, she couldn't stop the memory of that night from filling her mind. "I didn't say that," she protested, but her body was already turning to liquid heat inside again.

  His grin widened. "Still the curious little cat, Danni?"

  "I don't know," she said, searching his face for more than the residual signs of sexual passion. "I know I'm not the impulsive girl I was then." She sighed. "A certain recent, deeply regretted decision notwithstanding."

  He brushed his mouth over her forehead. "You know what I want. I'm willing to give you time to figure out if it's what you want, too."

  She blinked. "How much time exactly?"

  The cagey little note in her voice had him smiling inside. He liked that in her, the determination to surrender on her terms. Because he wanted her complete cooperation when they finally consummated this edgy chemistry they generated without even trying, he steeled himself to give her room to maneuver. But not too much room.

  And not too much time. Twenty years was a long time to burn for a woman.

  That decided, he allowed his private smile to show on his face. "Gresham and I are booked on the red-eye tomorrow night."

  She took a deep, shaky breath. "In that case, you'd better stay for dinner."

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Lyssa was anything but pleased to find they had a guest for dinner. Like a sulky four-year-old she made her displeasure known by picking at her favorite meal, speaking only when asked a direct question and shooting Rafe sullen looks across the table.

  Apparently unruffled, he worked his way through two helpings of linguini and a half dozen slices of garlic bread, then scraped the last of the salad from the bowl after politely asking if anyone else cared for another helping.

  Danni was deeply embarrassed by her daughter's rude behavior. Because she understood the emotionally fragile girl's need for stability right now, she was reluctant to chastise her. Instead, she did her best to pretend nothing was wrong.

  Rafe helped, asking Danni about her work and the neighborhood. When Danni mentioned that Lyssa had a part-time job helping Liza Savage with her day-care kids, he led Lyssa to talk about the little ones. Her gaze on her plate, Lyssa answered in monosyllables.

  "Is Jody having a lot of guests for her party tomorrow night?" Danni asked when another silence settled over the kitchen.

  Lyssa poked at the pasta with her fork. "Not many," she said in a bored tone. "Her mom says they don't have room for a big crowd."

  Danni took a sip of milk. "Jody just invited girls, right?"

  Lyssa sent her a sullen look. "She wanted to have boys, but you said no boy-girl parties 'til I'm thirteen. Only it's not fair!"

  "Lys, we've been all over this. You're the child, and I'm the mom. I get to make the rules and you get to follow them. It's Mother Nature's way."

  "It's humiliating!" Lys protested. "All the other girls have boyfriends."

  At the age of twelve? Danni doubted that very much. "I'm sorry, but in my opinion twelve is too young to start dating."

  "Everyone's gonna think I'm a retard or something."

  Danni's fork froze halfway to her mouth. "Lyssa! I won't have you using that word. It's prejudicial and cruel."

  Her daughter's mouth trembled for an instant. Before her daddy's death and her long recuperation, she had been the sunniest of children, a bubbly extrovert that Mark had called Little Chatterbox. Now she was subject to violent mood swings. This one she could definitely do without, Danni thought with an inner sigh.

  "Whatever," Lys muttered, her face dark.

  "Your mom wasn't allowed to date until she was fourteen," Rafe commented before lifting his mug to his lips for a long swallow.

  "Fourteen and a half," Danni corrected. "And four days."

  Mystified, and interested despite this latest case of the sulks, Lyssa glanced at each in turn before finally settling a wary gaze on Rafe's teasing expression. "How do you know that?"

  "I had to listen to her for days trying to decide what to wear on her first date. It was a Halloween party and she finally settled on Snow White. Looked real pretty in this gauzy white dress. Had a tiara and everything, too."

  Smiling, Danni let the memory play out in her mind. Rosaria had made the dress for her, and they'd argued over how tight to make the bust. Danni had stuffed her bra with socks to fill it out, only to have Rafe tease her so mercilessly she'd taken them out again—after she'd taunted him about not being invited to the party at the Valley Country Club. It was mortifying now to realize what an arrogantlike snob she'd been in those days. She wouldn't have blamed him if he'd tossed her in the river and walked away.

  "I had new high heels and I got blisters," she said, apologizing to him with a look. "I've never been so miserable in my life."

  "Yeah, well so was everyone else, the way you limped around whining for a solid week afterward."

  "I wasn't whining," she said, falling easily into their old pattern. "I was merely explaining why I was hobbling like an old lady."

  A smile played around his mouth, softening that hard face in extremely appealing ways. She'd missed him, she realized. Terribly. "Ah, my mistake, Princess."

  "How do you know all that stuff about my mom?" Lyssa demanded suspiciously.

  Rafe didn't answer, and Danni realized he was letting her describe their shared past in any terms she chose. "Rafe is Enrique and Rosaria's oldest son," she said quietly, drawing Lyssa's quick gaze for an instant before her daughter swung her gaze his way again.

  "You don't look Mexican," Lyssa said with a challenging look. "I'll bet you can't even speak Spanish."

  Rafe smiled slightly. "Ah, pero si, señorita, hablo español muy bien. Y tú, hablas español?"

  Lyssa shrugged, her expression turned sullen.

  "She knows more than I do," Danni said, chiding her daughter with a look.

  Lyssa tilted her head and regarded Rafe through narrowed eyes. "If you're Enrique and Rosaria's son, how come I've never heard of you?"

  Danni saw his jaw flex. "Beats me."

  "Rafe left the valley when he was seventeen," Danni said because she knew how tenacious her daughter could be.

  "How come you left then? Were you arrested or something?"

  His face changed. Danni felt a chill sweep through the room. "No, I wasn't arrested. It just seemed like the right thing to do."

  "But—"

  "If you're finished, sweetheart, you'd better start your homework," Danni interrupted firmly.


  Lyssa looked anything but pleased. "You promised to help me pick out an outfit for the party."

  "I'll be up as soon as I finish my dinner," Danni said calmly.

  "Whatever."

  Lyssa got up and carried her plate to the sink. Before she left the kitchen, she turned to give Rafe a distinctly unfriendly look. "My mother's married, and she's going to have a baby and my stepfather will be back soon. He won't like you being here, so you'd better leave."

  Danni had had enough. "Lyssa Mary, that was uncalled for! Please apologize to Rafe for being rude."

  An angry flush spread over Lyssa's face. "Sorry," she muttered, but the defiant glint in her dark eyes said she was anything but.

  "Apology accepted," Rafe said, looking at her steadily, his expression remarkably mild.

  Lyssa looked from one to the other, then turned and left.

  Rafe waited until her footsteps sounded on the stairs before shifting his gaze to Danni's face. He looked troubled. "Was all that attitude my fault?" he asked, lifting one tawny brow.

  "Only indirectly." Danni took in air and let it out slowly. "You heard what she said about Jonathan. She was crazy about him, and she's still in denial about his being a con man and thief."

  "How does she explain his stealing you blind, then disappearing without a trace?"

  "She doesn't. She just keeps saying that Jonathan must have had a good reason, and when he comes back, he'll explain. Although she hasn't come right out and said it, I'm pretty sure she blames me."

  He forked salad into his mouth and chewed. "Is that why you didn't want me to mention his arrest?" he asked after swallowing.

  She nodded. "I want to pick the right time."

  He gave her a hooded look. "It's bound to make the papers, Danni," he said before taking a bite of bread.

  "I know. I'll tell her tonight when I go in to kiss her good-night." She put down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Her therapist thinks she's clinging to Jonathan because she's terrified to lose another father figure." She sighed heavily. "It makes me sick inside to think I actually encouraged him to bond with her. And when he went out of his way to pamper her and spoil her, I was thrilled." Her face tightened. "I would hate him for hurting her, even if he hadn't robbed us blind."