She may be out of his league, but Conor still couldn’t deny he was attracted to her, even though he’d always been drawn to women with more obvious beauty. Olivia Farrell’s features were subtle, plain almost, yet so perfectly proportioned that a man couldn’t help but notice. She looked…fresh. Clean. Pure.
He stood up and quietly walked to her side. Without thinking, he reached out and took a strand of her hair between his fingers. Startled by the silken feel of it on his skin, he drew his hand away then knelt down to examine her face more closely.
A tiny smile curled the corners of her mouth. She slept soundly, secure in the knowledge that he was there to watch over her. But could he really protect her against the power of Red Keenan? There was no doubt in Conor’s mind that Keenan would risk anything to stay out of prison. He had money and power, and those two in combination could convince unscrupulous men that a favor done for Keenan would be handsomely rewarded-even if that favor involved killing Olivia Farrell.
As he stared down at her, so unaware, so vulnerable, Conor knew he’d step in front of a bullet for her. Not because it was his duty, but because here he could make a difference. Olivia Farrell was worth saving and, for the first time in a long time, he was proud of the career he’d chosen.
He reached out and gently pulled the afghan up around her shoulders. For a moment, she stirred and Conor sat back on his heels, holding his breath. Then her eyes fluttered and before he could move away, she was looking up at him. “Is-is everything all right?” she murmured, sleep turning her voice throaty and breathless.
He nodded, then pushed to his feet and walked to the fire. He heard her sit up, a soft sigh slipping from her lips. “You’re worried, aren’t you,” she said.
Conor turned and looked at her. Her hair was mussed and her nose was red from the cold. She rubbed her eyes, then turned her gaze to his. “Not worried,” he replied. “Cautious. This place may be secluded, but that can work against us, too.”
“Do you really think they’ll come after me out here?”
The fear in her voice caused a stab of regret at his honesty. “No,” he lied. “Your testimony is important, but I think Keenan has more to worry about from your partner. Hopefully, they’ll be able to flip Ford before you actually have to take the stand.”
“Flip?”
“Yeah. They offered him a deal for his testimony against Keenan. He’s refused to talk so far, but as the trial draws closer, he might reconsider. If Ford talks, your testimony won’t be that crucial. And Keenan won’t have a reason to risk adding another murder onto the charges.”
This seemed to reassure her and she pulled the afghan around her shoulders and lay back down on the sofa. “That makes me feel better,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
She closed her eyes and curled up beneath the afghan. For a moment he’d thought she’d fallen back asleep. He braced his hand on the mantel and stared into the fire. But then her voice came out of the silence. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
Conor smiled to himself. Strange, but right now there wasn’t any place he’d rather be.
3
OLIVIA WOKE UP with a jolt. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes slowly came into focus and she found Conor lying across her body, his hand over her mouth, his breath warm on her face. She wriggled beneath him, but he refused to budge.
“Don’t make a sound,” he warned in a voice just barely above a whisper. “There’s someone outside.”
She swallowed back the choking fear that threatened to erupt in a scream then pried his fingers off her mouth. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.
He scrambled off the sofa, then handed her her shoes and jacket. “Put these on-quickly. I want you to go to the bedroom, open the window and wait. I’ll take care of whoever’s outside then I’ll come and get you.”
“Shouldn’t we call for help?” Olivia asked.
He placed a finger over her lips. “I tried to raise the officer outside on my radio, but he didn’t answer. If Keenan found you here, then we’ve got a leak in the department. And we need to get out of here as fast as we can. Now, crawl over to the bedroom and wait beneath the window. If you hear gunfire, I want you to get out as quickly as you can and keep running until you’re safe. Understand?”
Olivia nodded and he smiled. Then he brushed a quick kiss across her mouth. His boldness didn’t surprise her, merely made her feel more confident-and a little warm and tingly inside. “We’ll be all right,” he said. “I promise.”
He moved to get up, but she grabbed his arm. “Please, don’t get shot. I’m not sure I can do this on my own.” She winced. “And I faint at the sight of blood.”
He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “You’ll be all right. If anyone grabs you, just give him a good knee in the crotch. That should give you a decent head start.” A moment later, he was gone, disappearing silently into the shadows of the darkened room. Olivia waited a few seconds, gathering her courage, then slowly began to make her way to the bedroom. Her heart slammed in her chest, so hard that she was certain it could be heard over the howling wind.
She waited for what seemed like eternity, silently praying that the next sound would be Conor’s voice and not gunfire. When she heard her name called softly from outside, Olivia nearly cried out with joy. She scrambled out the window and he caught her, carefully lowering her to the ground, his hands firm around her waist.
“What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure. The cop that relieved Danny isn’t there anymore. The car is gone and so is he.”
Conor wrapped his arm around her shoulders, then led her out toward the beach. Only then did she notice the gun in his other hand. She stumbled in the wet sand and Conor took her arm and pulled her along. For a while, he led her one way on the beach, then they suddenly ran closer to the water and started in the opposite direction.
She could barely see her hand in front of her face as blackness engulfed them. Icy water soaked into her shoes and she tried to draw a decent breath, but Conor’s pace was unrelenting as they continued down the beach. Every now and then, they stopped and he listened, staring back into the darkness. Then they continued on.
When she didn’t think she could go any farther, Conor led her along a concrete seawall, then up and over a dune to a darkened beach house. The sound of breaking glass cut through the roar of the waves and she squinted to see him reaching through a broken pane to open a door. He silently led her inside, then closed the door behind him.
Olivia felt her knees folding beneath her and he reached out and grabbed her waist, his arm supporting her weight. He drew her body against his and rubbed her back to warm her. How could she feel so safe, yet so scared, at the same time?
“It’s all right,” he murmured, cradling the back of her head in his hand. “We should be fine here, at least for a little while.”
“But we were supposed to be safe there,” Olivia cried. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “The phone was out and there was someone prowling around the front door. It could have been the wind and the storm, but I don’t think so.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Olivia said, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. “I just want to go far away, where no one knows me.”
But if she didn’t testify and put Keenan in jail, how would she ever feel safe again? She’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for him or one of his henchmen to silence her for good. “I-I just want to forget I ever heard anything. You can’t keep me here. I won’t testify.”
He placed his palm on her cheek, his grim expression softening. “Don’t talk like that, Olivia. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. From now on, it’s just you and me. And people I know I can trust.”
He pulled her along to the kitchen, then withdrew a cell phone from his pocket. Conor punched in a number, then waited. “Dylan? This is Con. I know it’s late, but this is important. I need you to get a boat.” He paused. “When did
he get in?” Conor turned to her and smiled. “I want the two of you to bring The Mighty Quinn across the bay into Provincetown Harbor. If you leave now, you can be here before dawn. Tie up at the gas dock and make up some excuse for staying there-mechanical problems. Just wait and I’ll find you. I’ll explain everything then.” He didn’t say anything more, just hung up the phone as if his request had been understood without question.
He crossed the room to Olivia and rubbed her arms distractedly. “I need to go find us transportation into town. You’re going to have to stay here by yourself. Just for a little while.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m coming with you.”
He considered her request for only a moment, then nodded. “This place has a garage. Let’s hope the owners leave a car here during the off-season.”
They moved through the dark house, eyes fully adjusted to the lack of light. The door to the garage was just off the kitchen and Conor opened it. He flipped on the overhead light and held his hand over her eyes to shield them. “Bingo,” he muttered. When her eyes had adjusted, she saw a jeep parked in the center of the garage. “It doesn’t have a roof or windows, but it has four wheels. The ride might be a little cold and wet, but we won’t have to walk into town.” He turned to Olivia. “Let’s get some rest. We don’t need to leave for a while.”
“Shouldn’t we find the keys?”
“If they aren’t in the ignition, I’ll just hot-wire it. Come on, my brothers will be here just before dawn. Hopefully, whoever’s looking for us will wait until after the sun rises to continue the search.”
“I-I don’t think I can sleep.”
Conor took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “We’ll get you warm and you’ll feel much better.”
They went back inside and he led her to the sofa. Then he sat down beside her and gathered her into his arms. How had they become so close so quickly? Olivia wondered. Was it the danger they faced, the two of them against the rest of the world? Or was this simply some police tactic to make her compliant with all his requests? Olivia closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder.
She hadn’t been touched by a man in such a long time. She’d had men in her life, but lately Olivia had found searching for antiques much more satisfying than looking for love. Still she’d never felt so close to another man as she did to Conor Quinn right now. How long had she been searching for this elusive feeling, the security of knowing that someone-even a virtual stranger-cared?
Olivia drew a ragged breath and tried to calm her chaotic thoughts. It would be so easy to fall for this man, she mused. But in eleven days, he’d disappear from her life and she’d be expected to put the pieces back together and go on as if nothing had happened.
She didn’t want to think about the future. Right now, she could only think about the present, the next minute, the next hour. If she thought too far ahead, the fear would engulf her and she’d be too terrified to open her eyes, too afraid even to breathe. “Talk to me,” she murmured. “I can sleep if I just hear your voice.”
“Not a scintillating conversationalist, huh?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I like the sound of your voice. It has magic in it.”
“Then I’ll tell you a magical story,” he said, putting on a thick Irish accent. She listened as Conor wove a fascinating tale about a beautiful fairy named Etain. He patiently explained in a soothing tone that fairies, or the Sidh, were not tiny creatures with wings, but human size. They lived in a parallel world, a world that met the real world at times when one thing became another-dusk into night, dawn into day, summer into fall.
Etain had bewitched a king with her beauty, but when the king’s brother met her, he fell in love with her as well. Conor filled the story with vivid detail, and by the time he had finished, she was captivated by the images he wove in her mind. Such a complex man, she mused. So tough and calculating on the outside, and so sensitive on the inside.
Olivia looked up at him. “How do you know that story?”
“My da used to tell us. He wasn’t home much, so we’d try to memorize all the details so we could retell them after he was gone. It was like a competition between me and my brothers as to who could tell it the best.”
Without thinking, she reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. He gazed down into her eyes and, for a moment, she was certain he’d kiss her. Olivia thought about making the first move, curious as to how he’d taste, how his lips would feel on hers. Would they be hard and demanding? Or gentle and tentative?
“We shouldn’t do this,” Conor murmured, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “You’re a witness. I’m supposed to protect you.”
Hesitantly, Olivia drew her hand away. She shouldn’t have assumed he’d be as attracted to her as she was to him. Such a fantasy, lusting after her protector. And how silly that she couldn’t see it for what it was-a way to escape the troubles of her real life. He was just a convenient man, someone to make her feel safe and cherished. “I’m sorry,” she said, drawing away.
“Don’t be,” Conor replied uneasily. “It-it’s pretty common. You’re afraid-I’m…reassuring. It happens all the time.”
“Then it’s happened to you before?” she asked.
“No,” he murmured. “Never.”
“Well, that makes me feel so much better.” She pushed up from the sofa. “I’m going to go find a bed. Wake me when it’s time to leave.”
She wandered down a long hallway, anxious to put as much distance between Conor Quinn and herself as she could. When she finally closed the bedroom door behind her, she leaned back and sighed. Everything seemed so unreal, as if she were watching herself in a movie. What had happened to her life? Just a few months ago, she’d been consumed with work, finding no time to even think about her pitiful social life.
And now she was tossed into the company of the most intriguing and handsome man she’d ever met. She should be thrilled. But the more she got to know Detective Quinn, the more she began to believe that Red Keenan wasn’t the dangerous one. Conor Quinn was.
CONOR STARED out over Provincetown Harbor, scanning the waterfront for any sign of Brendan and Dylan. The sun was just brightening the eastern horizon and the weather had begun to clear. Stars were visible through the cracks in the clouds and the wind had picked up again, blowing from onshore. The tiny village was beginning to stir and Conor was afraid that they’d be sitting ducks once the sun came up.
He’d parked the jeep in the shadows of a fishing shanty near the docks, giving them a good view of the water and anyone approaching from town. “Damn it, Bren, where are you?”
“What if he doesn’t come?” Olivia asked, her voice thin and tired.
Conor glanced over at her. He was tempted to draw her into his arms, to reassure her with physical contact. But he wouldn’t be touching Olivia Farrell again. Not that he couldn’t exert self-control; she was the one to worry about. He didn’t need her mooning around after him, messing up his concentration and putting them both at risk. “He’ll come,” Conor said. “I called him and he’ll come.”
He felt her gaze searching his face, looking for some sign of the closeness they’d shared just hours ago. When she didn’t find it, she sank down and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep warm in the chill morning air.
“If he isn’t here in ten minutes,” Olivia said, “I think we should leave.”
Conor felt his temper rise. No way in hell was he going to let her start calling the shots! “I’ll decide if and when we leave,” he said in an even voice.
“I’m just saying that-”
“I don’t need your opinion!” he shot back. Maybe his frustration came from lack of sleep. Or maybe he didn’t like her questioning his competence. Or maybe he didn’t like the fact that she was probably right. But once the words had left his lips, he knew chastising her had been a mistake.
“You seem to forget it’s my life. They want to kill me, not you. I should at least have some say in the-”
Conor
turned in his seat and faced her. “And if you refuse to listen to me, I might get caught in the cross fire. So, you see, it’s not just your life. It’s mine, too. We’re in this together.” At least until he got Olivia to safety. Then he had every intention of calling his lieutenant and getting someone else to do the baby-sitting. He’d make sure the cop was trustworthy, of course, but that would be the end of it. He’d rather face a year of desk duty than risk succumbing to the temptation of Olivia Farrell’s body, her sweet lips and alluring smile at every turn.
“There’s a boat coming in,” Olivia said, interrupting his thoughts. “See it over there?”
The low rumble of diesel engines echoed through the crisp air and Conor squinted. As if by magic, The Mighty Quinn appeared out of the darkness. Conor had never cared for that boat. In his mind, The Mighty Quinn had come between his mother and his father, it had taken his father away from home for long stretches of time, and it had forced Conor to grow up way too fast. But he felt pretty damn happy to see her now.
Unlike Conor, Brendan loved the water and always had, using the captain’s quarters on the boat as his home when he was in town during the summer months. During the colder winter months, he usually slept on the sofa at Conor or Dylan’s apartment-or in the bed of his current girlfriend, lost in the throes of a weeklong affair that always ended when he headed out on a research trip or another magazine assignment.
The boat maneuvered through the narrow waters, then headed for empty dock space near the gas pumps. Conor took one final look around, then nodded to Olivia. “Come on. We can go now.”
He stepped out of the jeep, then circled around to take her hand. They didn’t run, just walked calmly toward the water, Conor protecting her back and keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. Conor counted on the fact that Keenan would post his men at the airport and along the highway. Extra personnel would be slow in arriving on the Cape. He’d never expect them to leave on a private boat. When they reached the dock, Conor pressed his palm into the small of her back, urging her forward.
Conor Page 5
