by Dianna Love
Trish was still waiting on a cab when Josh’s Porsche convertible pulled up along the curb and the kid jumped out, leaving the engine running.
Josh walked up to Trish. “I’m going to follow you until I know you’re home safe, so you might as well ride with me.”
She hissed a sound that couldn’t mean anything nice. “Oh, all right.” By the time she stepped over to the car, the valet had her door open. She smiled at him and got in.
Josh shook his head as he walked around to the driver’s side. He produces transportation immediately when she’s in a panic and the kid with the fat tip gets the smile.
Sliding behind the wheel, Josh said, “Where to?”
“ReSolution.”
He dialed up a jazz station on his satellite radio to fill the conversation void while he drove, and to hopefully calm her down.
This was the opportunity he’d been looking for to get closer to Trish and find out if she was connected to the mole.
But the music failed to soothe her. The closer they got to ReSolution, the more Trish twisted her hands in her lap. Josh went for the direct approach. “Was there a problem at your shop?”
“Not really.”
“Want me to call Zane?”
“No!” She spread her fingers out over her lap and took a breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, but I don’t want to bother my brother. He’s home with Angel and she’s not feeling well and...anyhow. I don’t need his help. I can handle this.”
Was she kidding? Just look at her. She wouldn’t have left that banquet tonight short of being forced out at gunpoint, but one text sent her racing out of the room.
And she was terrified.
Of what or whom?
Vulnerable...and prepared to face something frightening all alone.
In that moment, Josh had to fight off the urge to protect Trish from whatever scared her. To demand that she tell him the truth about that text. But he couldn’t be the guy who protected Trish, since she might be communicating with the mole, and especially because it might be Zane.
Was that why she refused to contact her brother?
Because he’d sent her a task to do or a message to pass along?
This was not the time to get protective around Trish Jackson. This was the time to exploit her vulnerability. To use every weapon in his arsenal to find the mole and Len Rikker.
Wasn’t that what Sabrina wanted? The ruthless Josh who could seduce any secret out of a woman and walk away? The Josh who never let a woman get to him?
He remembered the cold bastard he’d had to be in the past, the one who could succeed where others failed. For some reason, the idea of unleashing that on Trish left a bad taste in his mouth.
He didn’t want to take advantage of her while her guard was down.
Every time he looked over and took in her pale skin, he wanted to shield her from danger.
Sabrina was right about one thing. He hadn’t put the UK behind him.
Teenagers were dying. It was time to harden his heart and get the freaking job done. Josh pulled up alongside the entrance to ReSolution, where all was dark and quiet. Streetlights shined along the sidewalk in front of upscale stores with professional window dressings.
Trish reached for her door handle and he put his hand on her arm, softening his voice to preserve his role. “Don’t get out until I come around.”
She sat there a moment. “Josh, this doesn’t concern you. Please go home. Heidi will be here as soon as she gets out of the banquet.”
“Let’s go inside your shop and check it out. Make sure everything’s okay.”
“No. Just leave.” She reached for the handle, opening the door and climbing out on the sidewalk.
He was just as quick and met her on the other side. He’d never had this tough a time with any woman. Mr. Nice wasn’t working. Maybe Mr. Pissed Off could get a straight answer. “Why have you pushed me away all night?”
“You’re really taking this escort thing for Zane too far.”
Subtle hadn’t gotten through. Maybe direct would be better. “Did you ever think I might be here for a reason other than because I work with Zane? That I might want to be here with you?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “What?”
This would be funny...if it was happening to the FNG.
Flashing lights came rolling up in front and behind Josh’s car. What now? He took in the approaching police cars and asked, “Did you have a break-in?”
“Not that I know about.” Her gaze followed his, fear climbing back into her eyes at seeing the police. Why?
“If this isn’t about a break-in, then what was the text you got?”
“I can’t talk about it.” She lifted a hand to her neck. Her fingers trembled. This was the same woman he’d seen walk confidently through a rotten Miami neighborhood, and hold her own sparring with a guy twice her size. What could frighten her when she’d been training to meet a threat alone in a dark warehouse?
If she was acting, she deserved an Oscar, because watching her was calling up every ounce of Josh’s ingrained need to find the threat and kill it.
Officers spilled out of the cars and walked up to them. The first one, Officer Vasquez who had a soft middle and dark eyes that missed nothing, asked Josh, “Are you parked in front of this business for a reason?”
Josh put his hand on Trish’s back. “This is the owner of ReSolution. Is there a problem?”
“We had a call of suspicious activity here. How long have you been here?”
“Just pulled up right before you did.”
“See anyone or anything suspicious?”
“No.” No one except Trish Jackson, Josh added silently.
Vasquez shined his flashlight toward the display windows, but the majority of ReSolution’s glass front was covered by drapes. He asked Trish for her ID. Once the officer checked that, he asked Josh, “And who are you?”
“I’m her date, but I’m also FBI with a task force unit in Miami, and I’m carrying my service weapon.” Josh waited for that to register. No reaching into his jacket and surprising the suspicious officers with an accidental flash of the shoulder holster under his arm. “Would you like to see my ID?”
“Yes.”
Once Vasquez had confirmed Josh’s ID, he eyed the shop again. “Might as well check out the premises while we’re here.”
Josh could tell Trish was going to refuse the inspection, which would only ping the officer’s curiosity. He didn’t need any more complications right now and told Trish, “Good idea. Why don’t you unlock and clear the security alarm?”
With a sigh of irritation, she dug the key out of her purse. When she pulled the door open, no alarm sounded.
Trish hurried over to an illuminated panel that showed the system was powered but not activated.
She stood there, staring at the box as if something was amiss.
“Guess someone forgot to set it tonight,” Josh said, stepping up next to her as the officers came in behind him, flashlights beaming across the interior.
“No, I–” Then she caught herself and snapped back into the moment. She reached over to flip a switch. Soft light flooded the showroom area.
The policemen spread out, checking high and low.
Trish watched them with intense attention.
Josh watched her.
The minute one of the officers headed into the back room, Trish took off in that direction.
Why would she be more concerned over that area than her showroom? Was she worried that law enforcement would find something to do with her mysterious text?
Josh stayed with her step for step as she reached the back room and turned on those lights too. The officer disappeared into a room Josh guessed was a restroom.
Trish looked all over the room with frantic movements, squatting as much as she could in that slinky dress to see down low and standing up with her head tilted back to take in the tops of shelves.
Would she be searching haphazardly if she
knew what she was looking for?
She caught Josh watching her and stilled.
The officer stepped out of the bathroom. “Is anything disturbed, ma’am?”
“No. Everything looks okay to me,” she said a bit too brightly. “I think we’re good. I appreciate all of you coming down here.” She turned to leave the room and missed her step next to Josh.
He grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her from stumbling. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. They can go,” she said, as in right now wasn’t fast enough.
Josh turned and walked out to the showroom where the other three officers were standing together, talking quietly. They looked up as Trish and the last policeman joined them.
Vasquez eyed their clothes and asked Trish, “What brought you down here tonight?”
She was struck mute so quickly you’d have thought the guy had asked her the meaning of life.
Josh gave a negligent shrug. “She forgot some files she’d planned to take home tonight so I suggested we just swing by and pick them up.”
She raked a shaky hand over her hair. “That’s right. Files.”
Trish was either poorly trained or exceptionally skilled.
Josh had to figure out which.
Vasquez nodded, making a note on his pad then he asked, “You have any trouble with employees?”
“No, I have great people,” she answered too quickly and with just a bite of defensiveness
That pricked Josh’s curiosity even more about the police visit. “What type of suspicious activity was called in?”
“Drug related.”
Trish went from nervous to wet-cat mad in two seconds. “Not in my shop. I don’t tolerate any drugs. Ever. None of my people even drink alcohol.”
That was overkill. Did she really expect Josh to believe Heidi and Bunko didn’t drink just because Trish didn’t?
But the officer’s head bobbed with another perfunctory nod that could mean he believed her or he was just pacifying her. “Got it.” He shoved the notepad into his pocket. “Guess we’re done. Let us know if you do have any problem.”
“Thank you.” Trish gave them a polite smile and clasped her hands behind her back. Nice trick to hide her nerves.
Once all four officers were out of the store, the tension in Trish’s shoulders deflated.
Josh took in the illuminated security panel. “Why was your alarm off?”
“I must have forgotten to set it.”
He didn’t believe her. “Do you do that often?”
“Sometimes.” She murmured that lie and turned toward the counter in the back of the showroom, to the right of the entrance to the storage room. “I’ll be right back.”
She was still searching for something. He followed her, watching for the slightest indication of anything different. Behind the counter was a desk and chair, the sales transaction area.
She’d almost passed by when she halted sharply. The desk was tidy as an operating table.
That made it easy to spot the black chess piece sitting in the center of the clean surface.
A rook had been carved from onyx and had an inlaid gold band near the top. Was that a message? If so, who had left it and what was the message?
Trish’s face went from confused to a light bulb moment. And not a bit happy about whatever she’d realized.
She snatched the piece off the desk in a tight fist.
He wanted to shake an answer from her, but now was the time to charm her, not threaten her. “Are you missing a piece from a set?”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes, a prelude to lying. “No. This is just...I’m a big chess fan. People leave these all the time for me.”
Right. Just as often as he was asked to be the next pope.
He had to be careful with his next move. She’d been trying to shut him out all night. He’d bet that chess piece was tied to her text and her rush to get here. Someone had sent a message with the police tonight. “You ready to go home?”
“I’ll wait on Heidi. You go on.”
“I’ll wait with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not the kind of guy who leaves a woman alone at night if something’s off, and because I promised Zane–”
“I know, I know.” She rubbed her head as if just talking was sapping her energy. “Okay, you win. I’ll text Heidi and tell her to meet me at home.” When she dropped her hand, she jutted her chin up in determination. “Then you can go your way and I’ll go mine.”
Not a chance, sweetheart.
Not until he found out what that chess piece meant.
Chapter 13
Why couldn’t Josh see that she was at the end of her frayed rope?
Josh took the last turn toward her house in north Ft. Lauderdale, and Trish watched the headlights of his Porsche sweep across the first frame house on her street.
When he reached her driveway and pulled in to park, he said with more authority this time, “Don’t get out until I come around.”
“Don’t give me orders.”
“Do you fight everyone this way, or just me?”
Why was she fighting him? Because he’d had her on edge all night. The man was gay, but he’d sent her constant strange signals that had her body twisted with need. Then he wouldn’t let her go to ReSolution alone when she had no idea what the stalker was doing.
Or what danger she might have been leading Josh into.
She was too tired to fight. “I’ll wait.”
“Thank you.” He walked around the car, a dark shadow moving with a smooth stride. Then her door opened and he offered her a hand. She took it, and that sizzle of energy she’d been experiencing since they’d first met in the task force office slid along her senses as he helped her out of the car.
No point in trying to tell him goodbye here.
Knowing what little she did of Josh, she wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to come inside and check out the house. Were computer techs trained in defense? They must be, since he’d mentioned a service weapon. She had pepper spray and could defend herself against a physical attack, but finding that black chess piece in ReSolution had unhinged her confidence.
She’d had no chance to examine it closely with Josh hovering, but she was pretty sure that rook was from an infamous chess set that had belonged to a famous serial killer in 1867. The set had been stolen from a private collector several years ago.
The serial killer had once been a promising chess champion before being imprisoned for murdering an opponent. When he escaped, he’d used the pieces as a calling card, systematically killing everyone he’d fingered as being at fault for putting him in prison.
“Careful,” Josh said, taking Trish’s elbow as she started toward the front door. He guided her with an odd mix of gentleness and strength that had her wondering what he’d be like as a lover.
Crap. Exhaustion had sent her mind on one heck of a trip to Fantasyville.
Josh noted, “You should have a security light out here.”
“I do.” She looked up at the spotlight controlled by a motion detector. “Must be burned out.”
A warning tapped at her shoulders. That bulb had been replaced ten days ago. Had someone...
Stop jumping to stalker default. Every blown bulb wasn’t the result of terror tactics. Besides, Josh was with her. Whatever training he’d had, she’d noticed serious muscle when she’d touched his chest at the shop earlier today.
For this one moment, she experienced something she hadn’t enjoyed in a long while. She felt safe.
This man had persisted in accompanying a belligerent date to attend what had to be a boring event for him, then faced law enforcement at her store. And he’d helped her out by speaking up when she couldn’t form a reasonable reply for why she and Josh had gone to her shop in evening clothes that time of night.
He’d come to her aid when she was reeling from the latest threat, expecting the shop to explode into flames at any moment.
Josh had been tolerant throug
hout the entire evening. More than that, he’d been giving her far more consideration than she’d given him.
She’d been the date from hell.
But he said the most bizarre things. Like just before the police showed up when she was sure he’d said he was interested in her.
Why would he toy with her that way? Especially at that moment when she was obviously distressed?
They reached the front door that needed a new coat of gray paint, which probably meant the shutters did, too. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside and hit the wall switch for the lamp.
That worked.
The burned-out spotlight was probably a fluke.
“I’m home and safe,” she said, turning to Josh who stood too close behind her in the doorway. It even smelled safe with the welcoming scent of a winter mix potpourri.
Josh loomed over her just inside the doorway. “Aren’t you going to invite me in for coffee?”
That was not a question about coffee. Any female would recognize that as a date wanting to come inside to get cozy.
Enough was enough.
She tossed her purse on the sofa. Out of patience and dead on her feet, she was done with this game. “Why would you want me to do that?”
He lifted his palm to her cheek. “Because I’ve been waiting all night to be alone with you.”
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Are you going to tell me you’re actually attracted to me?”
“No. I’m done talking.” He cupped her face and kissed her.
She turned to stone, shocked beyond words. He sure as hell wasn’t talking. He tasted warm and masculine. Everything about this kiss said skill and he used his lips the way an artist wielded a brush to create a perfect work of art. But something was missing.
The passion of an artist going for a one-of-a-kind.
This felt more like a reproduction. But damned sexy for a knockoff.
Trish grabbed the lapels of his tuxedo. He did look hot in a tux. Smoked that guy Ryder.
Ryder? Josh’s partner. What kind of idiot was she?
One who thought this was a real kiss by a man really interested in her.
She broke away and backed up. “What was all that about?”
