by Sara Orwig
“I suppose Dad instilled a love of police work in me in my early years. I always wanted to be a cop.” Jake tried to keep the emotion out of his voice. “And every time I apprehend someone, I feel as if I'm catching the son of a bitch who gunned down my father.”
She was quiet, and Jake wondered what she was thinking, but he kept silent, telling himself it was better to keep barriers between them, to remember that this was a job and when it was over he would never see her again.
He drove toward the state capitol, passing the broad, shady lawn surrounding it, going to the area of older homes and renovated warehouses that were now apartments west of the capitol. Soon he entered the drive to his condo, punched in numbers and waited for the iron gates to swing open. He drove behind the building, parking in a carport, beside a shiny red pickup.
“The pickup is mine, too. I think when we return tonight, we might take the truck. There’s a backseat for the girls, and the pickup would draw less attention at your place than my car.”
“We can just ride to the banquet in it.”
“You don’t mind going in a pickup?”
“Of course not,” she said as they entered the building and he nodded at a man behind a desk in the lobby.
“It won’t take me long to shower and change.”
“Do you worry about Meskell following us?”
“I don’t worry about it, and he didn’t follow us tonight.”
“How can you be sure?”
He shrugged. “I've been a cop a long time. And don’t worry about the girls. Zach has a high fence, and he and Sally won’t let the girls out of their sight or out of their house or backyard. Zach’s tougher than he looks.”
She smiled as they stepped into an elevator, and he punched the button for the tenth floor. “What’s funny?”
“Zach looks very tough, but maybe the family resemblance gave me that impression,” she said, recalling Jake’s brother.
They were shut into the small elevator, the fragrance of her perfume tempting him. She was smiling at him, her blue eyes wide, the dimple showing, and he longed to cross the short distance between them and take her in his arms and see if her mouth was as soft as it looked. Just thinking about kissing her made his blood pump faster, and he knew he’d better cool down fast.
If only— He caught himself and realized the direction of his thoughts. Even if Meskell didn’t exist, Jake knew, he wouldn’t date a woman like Rebecca Bolen. He had shouldered responsibility since he was nine years old and his youngest brother was finally employed and on his own. Freedom was a heady luxury he didn’t want to give up. The pretty lady is off-limits, he told himself. She comes with wedding bells and two kids and a truckload of responsibility.
The elevator doors opened and he crossed the hall, then suddenly stopped, his breath going out in a hiss. Rebecca glanced at him, saw his frown and followed his gaze.
The door to his condo was splintered, pried off the hinges, the doorframe as hacked up as the door, which was pushed ajar.
“Dammit.” Jake drew his pistol. His hazel eyes changed, becoming glacial, chilling her while he motioned with his head and pushed her against the wall, leaning close to her.
“Meskell could be inside,” he whispered, his breath fanning her ear, and in spite of her terror, she became aware of Jake’s body, so close to hers, his hand on her shoulder, his mouth at her ear. “If you hear a fight,” Jake said, pointing down the hall to the exit, “get out of here. Go downstairs and get security.”
Rebecca nodded, her heart pounding, while she wondered if Lenny Meskell was listening and waiting.
Jake turned and flattened against the wall. Then, suddenly, he kicked the door in and disappeared inside the room.
Chapter 5
“Rebecca, it’s all right. Come in,” he called.
Feeling the tension ease, she went to the doorway and paused in shock. The door had fallen across an overturned table. The room was in complete disarray, with books pulled off shelves, furniture upended, lamps knocked to the floor. Jake held a phone and motioned to her to come inside.
Carefully she stepped over the debris through a tiny entryway that opened onto a living room with a kitchen and a bedroom to one side. Through the door she could see that kitchen drawers were tossed to the floor, their contents strewn over the room.
Across the living room was a balcony with a high wall and a spectacular view of the city.
“Delancy here. Who’s on burglary tonight? Give me Werner.”
Rebecca turned away, moving toward the balcony, hearing Jake discussing the break-in. His voice was calm, but one look in his hazel eyes and she could see the fires of rage.
“I have to accompany her to the banquet, and I have to shower. I won’t be back tonight, so you guys close it up. I want to know how he got past security here, because it’s tight. Yeah.” He replaced the phone, and she turned around.
“Was this Lenny Meskell?”
“He might as well have signed his name on the door.”
“What would he gain from this?”
“It’s a message. He’s not happy with me.”
“Do you think he knows you're guarding me?”
Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. I'll check to see if anything is missing.”
“Jake, you can stay here. Get someone else to go with me to the banquet, if you need to see about your things.”
He shook his head. “This mess isn’t going anywhere, and one of the burglary detectives is a close friend. He'll take charge, and building maintenance will get the door fixed promptly.” He paused, studying her. “Are you okay, Rebecca?”
She glanced at the trashed room and nodded. “I'm all right. It just is a reminder that my life has been threatened.”
“It would be better if you touched as few things as possible. Here,” he said, picking up a wingback chair. “Sit down here.”
“I'll be fine, Jake.”
He nodded and moved across the room, kneeling in front of the fireplace to run his hand up inside it. As he moved from place to place, she realized he was checking to see if things had been stolen.
“Did he take anything?”
“Nothing so far. I'll shower,” he said, checking his watch.
She stood looking across the balcony at the lights of the city, twinkling in the darkness. “What a view you have!”
“It’s pretty,” Jake said from the bedroom doorway, studying her profile, his gaze sliding over her as his thoughts shifted from Meskell to Rebecca.
He went into the bedroom and closed the door, stripping to shower, turning the water to cold, wishing he could get his hands on Meskell.
Standing in the center of the room, wanting to disturb things as little as possible, Rebecca noticed books strewn over the floor. Judging from the titles, Jake was an old-West history buff, but she spotted books on law and criminals, too. Unopened mail was on the floor.
Mud-caked Western boots were by the overturned maroon leather sofa. Books, pillows, papers, compact discs and an empty beer bottle lay on the floor. She spotted a picture that looked old, guessing it must be his family when Jake was young. Leaning down to look closer, she saw that Jake bore a close resemblance to his smiling father. His slender mother was pretty. Rebecca wasn’t certain which boy was Zach, but Jake was the tallest and looked like the oldest.
“I'm ready now,” Jake said, and she turned around. Her pulse quickened. He looked incredibly handsome, with that same air of danger and toughness about him, his sexy aura heightened by his navy suit and conservative dark tie, the white shirt that was a stark contrast to his tan skin.
“My goodness, the ladies will be happy to see you,” she said, and he grinned.
Someone knocked, and two men stood in the open doorway, one in uniform and one in a brown suit. “C'mon in. Rebecca, meet Detective Werner and Officer Tarkington. This is Mrs. Bolen.”
She shook hands briefly with the tall, sandy-haired man who was the detective and the stocky blonde who was in uniform. She mo
tioned to Jake, waving her hand toward the door. “I'll wait in the hall, out of everyone’s way.”
“You stay with me,” Jake said, turning away to talk to the men, and she realized he didn’t want her to wait outside. Even though she couldn’t imagine that Meskell was anywhere close, she waited inside while Jake talked with the men.
When Jake finished discussing the break-in, he took her arm and they entered the paneled elevator.
As they rode down in silence, she was more aware of him than before. In the close confines of the elevator, she wondered whether the real danger to her wasn’t riding only a few feet away. Meskell would be caught and locked up and forgotten. If she wasn’t careful, the time spent with Jake Delancy might be unforgettable. She wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she would never want one with a man who lived dangerously.
Handing over the keys for valet parking at the hotel, Jake held the glass door. When they stepped into the busy hotel lobby, he moved beside her.
“The party’s on the second floor. We might as well just walk up the stairs,” she said, motioning toward the curving red-carpeted stairway. When they started toward the stairs, his fingers laced through hers.
Startled, she glanced up at him, because she wouldn’t have guessed Jake Delancy was the kind of man to simply hold hands even in the most casual way. And the slight gesture also caught her off guard because it was the first time since Dan that a man had held her hand.
For just a moment, she thought how nice it was even when it held no meaning. She was beside a handsome man, going to a party, and he was holding her hand. His fingers were a warm pressure against her hand, a physical contact with another adult, something she had seldom had in the past two years of her life.
As if he realized she was studying him, he glanced at her, squeezed her hand lightly and winked. She drew a deep breath, cautioning herself to be careful around Detective Delancy.
Together they climbed the stairs to the second floor, where the cocktail party was. Voices came from a room beyond open double doors. “I need to mix and mingle, and I'll introduce you to the few people I know,” Rebecca said as they entered the crowded room.
Jake released her hand. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “You go talk to people and I'll wander around.”
“Are you concerned about Meskell?”
“No. We've beefed up hotel security tonight with undercover men, and there were two guards outside the door of this room. They're not hotel security. They're from the force. Just keep your eyes open.”
“I feel ridiculous to be causing so much trouble.”
“You're worth it,” he said in a low voice. Something flickered in the depths of her eyes, and she seemed to relax slightly. She winked at him. “That’s nice to hear, Detective Delancy,” she replied in a voice that made his temperature jump. She studied him. “Sure you don’t want me to introduce you?”
“Maybe in a little while,” he said. “Just don’t leave the room without letting me know.”
Nodding, she walked away, and he watched the slight pull of her dress across her bottom. He wondered if she had any idea what an appealing woman she was. Knowing he was staring, he turned reluctantly, catching the eye of two of the undercover cops here in suits, aware security arrangements had been made swiftly this afternoon.
“Hi,” said a feminine voice, as a voluptuous blonde approached in a black sequined dress that fit like a second skin. “I'm Melody Farrar. Is your wife one of the members of our group?”
Idly, Jake wondered what business Melody was in as he shook his head. “No, I came with a friend.”
“Oh, and she’s left you all on your own. Come have a drink.”
“Sure,” he said, moving across the room toward the bar with her. They talked for fifteen minutes, and when Jake finally extricated himself, he felt a stab of alarm. He had chalked up his earlier reaction to Rebecca to not having had a date in a while, but he had no such reaction to the luscious Melody. Far from it. All the time he talked to her, he had continued to watch for Rebecca’s blond head or her green dress as she talked to people.
He glimpsed Melody chatting with three men. She was a good-looking woman, but he knew he wasn’t interested.
Finally Rebecca appeared at his side, linking her arm in his. “It’s almost time to go eat,” she said, leading him away from a cluster of people. “They'll open the doors to the banquet room where we have arranged seating.”
He already knew that and knew he would sit where he could see the doors and the stage. An undercover cop would sit at their table to watch the other half of the room.
All through dinner, Jake listened and responded to the conversation as he kept his gaze roaming over the crowd. The doors to the hall were closed, and while he felt the danger was minimal at the banquet, he didn’t want to take chances.
Finally, Rebecca was introduced, and everyone applauded as she made her way to the stage. She moved with a graceful, yet sexy walk, the green dress pulling slightly across her hips, her hair bouncing gently. She climbed the steps to the stage and began to talk, her gaze meeting his and then moving over the audience.
When she finished her speech, she received resounding applause before she returned to her seat. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled, and he inwardly cursed Richard Vance for sending him on this assignment. It was like sending a starving man to guard a banquet. When the evening was finally over, people came up to Rebecca to thank her for her speech.
“Rebecca, introduce me,” a tall, black-haired woman said. A balding, broad-shouldered man stood slightly behind the woman, and Rebecca smiled at them.
“Camilla, this is Jake Delancy. Jake, this is my friend Camilla and her husband, Larry Quinton.”
Jake shook hands with Larry while Camilla smiled at him. “Rebecca, I'm glad you're finally dating! There’s a band in the bar on the top floor. Come dancing with us.”
For just an instant, a wistful look crossed Rebecca’s face, and then it was gone. “I'm sorry, Camilla, but it’s time I get the girls.”
“You have to! Talk her into it, Jake. It’s a great band, and we haven’t gotten to know Jake yet. I haven’t seen you since last month.”
“Camilla, we have to go—”
On impulse, Jake squeezed her arm lightly. “We'll go upstairs for a little while.”
“Great!” Camilla exclaimed, and Larry shrugged.
“I saw Valerie and Rob, and I'll ask them to join us,” Camilla said. “See you in a few minutes.”
As they left, Rebecca turned to stare at Jake, her brows drawn together in such a frown that he had to bite back a smile. “Why on earth did you do that? We said we should keep everything impersonal, and your brother and sister-in-law are waiting for us.”
“It will be impersonal. We won’t stay long, and Zach and Sally are probably having more fun than Tara and Sissy. How long since you last went dancing?”
She blinked and stared at him. “I won’t be very good company. I can’t handle some things yet, and dancing is one thing I haven’t had to handle.”
“You don’t have to be good company at all,” he replied easily, feeling a stab of sympathy for her even while becoming more determined that they go dancing. “This is as safe as walking around your hallway, because it won’t mean a thing to either one of us. You can just enjoy a dance or two and then we'll go. It'll be good for you.”
“You're getting mighty charitable,” she said suddenly, amusement replacing her frown.
He laughed. “Okay, this isn’t the smartest thing I've ever done, but I think it’s time you enjoyed yourself, and maybe I want to dance with you once or twice, in spite of good judgment. We're not going to fall in love during one dance.” The words seemed to hover in the air between them like a chant, and he wondered if he would remember them for the rest of his life. He tried to ignore the prickles that ran across his skin. He winked at her. “Come on. We'll both live dangerously.”
She laughed softly, and he silently called himself every kind
of fool as he followed her out of the banquet room, his gaze on the sexy sway of her bottom and long legs.
When they emerged from the elevator, he could hear the deep beat of the drums and the wail of a trumpet. They entered the crowded, darkened room, and in minutes he spotted the undercover guys, giving each of them a nod. Music throbbed, and the clink of glasses and bottles added to the clamor of talk and music. They sat at a long table and were introduced to four other couples, and then he stood and held out his hand. “Shall we dance?”
She placed her hand in his, her fingers feeling cool and slender, and he wanted to draw her close and wrap his arms around her and slow-dance her into lovemaking. Instead, he tried to avoid holding her close, aware of her blue eyes watching him solemnly.
“I may be rusty.”
He shook his head. “Absolutely impossible.”
“Up here it’s easy to forget about danger and threats. I feel far above the city and all its problems.”
He didn’t answer, because he couldn’t forget the danger and he was fighting the urge to pull her closer and feel her body moving with his. She followed him easily, as if she had been dancing with him forever. They moved in silence, her head turned as she gazed through the darkened windows at the myriad twinkling city lights.
The last time she had gone dancing, Rebecca had been with Dan. The hurt came, hitting her hard, like a sudden surging wave. She missed him incredibly, and it was easier to stay shut away at the house on the edge of town than to get out in crowds and do things that brought the memories tumbling back.
Hurting, she inhaled, fighting back tears while Jake tilted her head up. Rebecca closed her eyes. “I told you I couldn’t handle this. It’s the first time—”
“Shh...” he said quietly, drawing her closer, his arm sliding around her waist. “It’s only natural,” he said. “I don’t care if you cry. There has to be a first time to dance again, and this is it. Now you've leaped over that hurdle. No one else here knows you're hurting, and it wouldn’t matter if they did. You have a damned good reason to hurt.”
