Heat of the Moment

by Diana Duncan

  She raised her head and met his gaze, her fawn’s eyes steady. “Yes, of course. I simply got…carried away.”

  “‘Oops, I lost my virginity to a stranger by accident?’” He drilled her with a hard stare. “No way. You had an agenda.”

  “You’re still mad, after all this time.” Alarmed confusion chased across her face, but she didn’t deny she’d only used him. “That could give you incentive to stalk me.”

  “Not in this lifetime.” In spite of his ire, she aroused every protective instinct he possessed. “But I will find out who is stalking you. And neutralize him.”

  Her wary expression said she didn’t believe him. Frustration burned. He’d been callously used before. Brutally dumped. But only Kate had the power to hurt him with a look.

  He’d never left a woman unsatisfied. He’d sure as hell never made one cry in his bed. Or scared one enough to run away. Yet Kate had slept with him once and thought he was some kind of freaking psycho? He would damn well prove her wrong.

  That wasn’t his ego talking. Her opinion of him mattered more than he cared to admit.

  He hollered, “Murphy!” The big German shepherd bounded over, and Liam motioned. “Murphy, search!”

  “Murphy is a dog?” Kate went rigid as Murphy circled the car. “You said Murphy was your partner. A cop, just like you.”

  “K-9 Murphy is a cop. He graduated from a training academy, just like me. It’s a felony to assault him, just like me. He apprehends bad guys and faces bombs, just like me.”

  Murphy reached the open door and stuck his nose inside, sniffing loudly. He should have sat in passive alert when he scented the accelerant, but he continued to sniff. Liam frowned.

  Kate gasped. “What’s he doing?”

  “I want him to locate the bomb. It reinforces his training. There are nine basic scents of explosive components. Some dogs can do twelve. Murphy knows eighteen.” Why didn’t he recognize the device inside Kate’s car? Though he’d know it from now on. Liam’s frown deepened. First the weird schematics, and now this.

  Kate scrambled up onto the seat. “Get him away from me!”

  What was up with her overreaction? “He won’t touch you. He’s trained not to touch anything during a search, so he won’t detonate an explosion. He needs to learn the scent.”

  Kate huddled on the seat. “I don’t care! Make him leave.”

  Bewildered, Murphy fixated on Kate. The big dog tensed, waiting for a cue from him. Okay partner, what now? You’re not treating this scared female like a bad guy.

  “Down, Murphy. She’s a friend.” Murphy sat. Liam turned to Kate, his heart sinking. “Why are you terrified of dogs?”

  She squared her shoulders. “I am not terrified. I’m just not comfortable around them.”

  Yeah. And the A-Bomb was simply a few cranky atoms. Liam shook his head. How was this possible? He and the woman he couldn’t forget weren’t sexually compatible. She not only despised him, she also despised his partner and best friend. He’d rather she take a razor blade to his jugular.

  Liam offered her his hand. She ignored it and clambered out on her own. He clenched his jaw. She mistrusted him as much as the dog. More than her appearance had changed. She’d erected a shield around her heart as tough and impenetrable as Kevlar. Doubt assailed him. Had their disastrous encounter caused that? He’d never run up against a problem that couldn’t be solved with a few strategically placed explosives.

  Just Kate.

  The answer was as obvious as the difference between a hearing aid and a hand grenade. Maybe Kate wasn’t who he’d thought she was. Maybe he’d imagined the connection between them. Maybe all this time, he’d been chasing a dream.

  Then why was the idea of walking away from her like a roadway spike strip through his chest?

  Liam signaled the waiting teams all clear. The incident commander jogged over, followed by the bomb disposal squad and SWAT. The FBI agent heading up security training beat them all. Special Agent Chuck Hanson’s merciless squint would do Dirty Harry proud, and his skin had been baked by the desert sun to the same color and texture of his rattlesnake skin boots.

  Liam normally worked well with the Feds. One of his best friends from high school was a Feeb. Which was why the Riverside SWAT team had received an invite to the regional training. However, getting along with Hanson took effort. The man had a hard-on for his job that made him a real pain to work with. The teams had deflected his attitude and verbal jabs all week.

  The Vegas and Riverside SWAT teams—including Liam’s brothers Aidan, Con and Grady—secured the area while the bomb disposal unit secured the car. Hanson thrust his face into Kate’s, and she shifted uneasily. “Special Agent Chuck Hanson, FBI.” He flashed his badge. “I need to see some ID. Now.”

  Liam moved to Kate’s side. “She’s the victim, Hanson, remember?”

  “Special Agent Hanson, O’Rourke. You’re no longer needed on site. Dismissed.” So much aggression thrummed in his graveled voice and taut stance that Murphy rumbled out a low growl.

  Hanson gripped the butt of his holstered pistol. “If you can’t control that animal, I will.”

  Liam had a reputation as the easygoing brother. A joke was often the most effective weapon. However, he couldn’t find anything remotely funny about the current scenario. He signaled Murphy to heel, which put Liam between his dog and Hanson’s gun. “I don’t know what’s lodged up your arse, and don’t give a flying Finnegan. But don’t take it out on Kate. And if you draw down on my dog, there won’t be any question about what’s lodged where.”

  “Are you threatening me, pretty boy?”

  Liam rested his palm on the Glock in his thigh holster. Growing up in the middle of four brothers had taught him a thing or two about testosterone. As a K-9 officer, he’d been trained to project as the alpha male in the pack. If good old boy wanted a pissing contest, he’d oblige. “Just the facts, Chuck.”

  “Liam,” His oldest brother Aidan called from behind him. “What do you want the bomb squad to do with the device before we tow the car? Leave it or detach it?”

  The question broke the simmering tension, no doubt as Aidan intended. Hanson eased his hand off his weapon. Liam turned and caught dual, “What the hell?” stares from both Aidan and next-to-oldest brother Con.

  Ignoring his puzzled brothers, he reached into the car for Kate’s purse, which he passed to her over his shoulder. “Leave it. I want to study that double antitamper switch.” He swiveled back to see Kate awkwardly fishing out her wallet. Not for the first time, he wondered what kind of accident had caused her injury. He hadn’t asked when they’d first met because, A: it was none of his business, and B: he’d sensed her extreme sensitivity to the topic. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him.

  She held out her driver’s license with a shaking hand. “Someone’s been stalking me for over a year. He’s left notes and calla lilies, but this is the first time he’s tried to hurt me.”

  Hanson took the license. He reached inside his brown suit jacket—which he insisted on wearing in spite of the withering heat wave deep-frying Las Vegas—and extracted a cell phone. He stabbed out a number. “Run wants and warrants on Katherine Marie Chabeau.” He spelled her name, rapped out her birth date, model of car and license plate number.

  Liam concentrated on tamping down his fury and studied Kate’s graceful profile. Katherine Marie Chabeau. He now knew her full name and birthday. She was a Gemini. So was his baby brother, and she shared a few of Grady’s personality traits. Dual-natured, elusive and complex fit her to a T.

  And in spite of everything Liam still didn’t know, he would fight legions of both heaven and hell to protect her.

  “No warrants, no priors, ten-four.” Hanson tucked away the phone. “You received a message from this ‘stalker’? Show me.”

  Kate bit her lip. “I know this sounds crazy, but they sort of…crumble into ashes after I open and read them.”

  Hanson looked at Liam, skepticism burning in his gaze
. “You’re the bomb tech. Explain that.”

  Hmm. “Hell, you can make a bomb out of toilet bowl cleaner and tinfoil.” Liam shrugged. “Have you seen the disposable thermal heating pads that activate when you open the package? If the right combination of chemicals were applied to paper and sealed airtight, it’s theoretically possible to create a note that would ‘destruct’ after a few moments exposure to oxygen.”

  “Theoretically?”

  “I’ve never lab tested the idea. Obviously, Kate’s stalker has mastered advanced chemistry.” To a scary degree.

  Hanson snorted at Kate. “I think you’ve been watching too many movies, little lady. What the hell is really going on?”

  “I’m telling the truth! The lily is still in my car.”

  “Anybody can buy flowers. What did the note say?”

  “The same thing they all say. ‘I burn with passion for you, Katherine.’” She shuddered. “Except this one had an addition—‘I’m through with you.’ I thought maybe he was finally going to leave me alone.”

  Liam tensed. Just the opposite.

  Hanson rubbed his chin. “You just happened to see the bomb in time?”

  “When I started the engine, the lid popped off my mocha frappuchino. I leaned down to pick it up.” She gulped. “That’s when I saw the contraption under my seat.”

  Bile rose in Liam’s throat. She’d come so close to dying. Mere chance, and a hankering for chocolate had saved her.

  Hanson stared at Kate’s license for several long, taut moments, then stared at her. “Are you the Katherine Chabeau who is the spokeswoman for Renée Allete, the French photographer?”

  She nodded, and Liam did a double take. Another freaky coincidence. A collector’s book of photographs sat on his coffee table, open to one of Renée Allete’s black and whites. He’d been thumbing through the pages in a gallery, and the picture had hit him like a battering ram. He’d been compelled to buy the book.

  “Renée Allete is conducting an auction at the Venetian the day after tomorrow.” Hanson looked pleased with himself. “A bomb scare would generate a buttload of free publicity.”

  Kate’s jaw dropped. Before she recovered enough to reply, Liam jumped in. “Watch the mud slinging, Hanson. I neutralized that incendiary device. It came damn close to killing us both.”

  “Or that’s what Ms. Chabeau wanted you to think.”

  “That bomb was no publicity prank. It was built by someone who knew what they were doing, and it was intended to kill. My dog didn’t recognize the accelerant.”

  Hanson frowned suspiciously as he returned Kate’s license. “A professional job.”

  Kate fumbled with her wallet. “I’ve made police reports about every note, in every city. Madrid, Rome, London…”

  “You’ve recently been in those specific cities?” Hanson’s eyes narrowed. “Turn around and put your hands on the car.” He reached inside his jacket for his cuffs. “I’m taking you in.”

  Kate gasped. “What? Why?”

  “Suspicion of terrorist activities.” He spun Kate and pushed her against the car. “I said turn around.” He yanked her left arm behind her and slapped on the cuffs, then the right. He gave no consideration to her disability, and she uttered a soft cry of distress. He shoved her legs apart and frisked her.

  Rage flashed through Liam’s veins, as fast and hot as a match igniting gunpowder. His years of training, his cop’s discipline exploded in a red haze.

  He lunged for Hanson’s throat.

  Chapter 3

  1:00 p.m.

  Liam crashed into a wall of male bodies in battle gear. As the bloodred haze faded, he recognized his brothers. It took all three of them to muscle him to the other side of the car.

  Murphy growled and snapped. If it had been anyone else man-handling him, the dog would have torn them apart. Liam struggled to break free. “Get off me!”

  Aidan immobilized him in a loose chokehold. “What the hell got your shorts in a wad?”

  Liam was forced to watch while Hanson marched Kate to his black SUV. “He hurt my woman! He has his hands all over her!”

  Aidan, Con and Grady exchanged silent communication. They clearly thought he’d lost his ever-loving mind.

  Maybe he had.

  Grady, the SWAT team’s paramedic, fisted his fingers in Liam’s hair. “Look at me.” He tipped Liam’s head back. “Did you inhale exhaust fumes when you disarmed the bomb?”

  Liam’s snarled retort made his brothers’ eyebrows shoot into their hairlines.

  Grady shrugged at Aidan. “He’s not foaming at the mouth, but maybe his rabies shots aren’t current.”

  Con’s grip on his arms relaxed slightly. “Chill out, bro. What’s going on?”

  Murphy finally reached his limit and leaped, fangs bared. Liam mustered enough self-restraint to call him off. “Murphy! Down!” Growling and trembling with agitation, Murphy reluctantly backed off and put his belly to the ground.

  Liam set his teeth as Hanson revved up the SUV and peeled out of the parking lot, taking Kate away. “Turn. Me. Loose.”

  With Hanson gone, his brothers released him, but surrounded him in a deceptively casual circle. Liam sucked in a frustrated breath. He wasn’t going anywhere until they let him.

  Murphy moved to his left side and pressed against his thigh, offering silent backup. I’m here. Say the word, and we’ll take these cocky pups down.

  He ruffled the dog’s thick fur. “Kate is the woman from Delany’s Pub, two years ago on St. Patrick’s Day.”

  That long ago night in Delany’s Pub, the instant he’d seen her, Liam had felt as stunned and disoriented as if a flash bang had exploded in his face. He feared Pop had been right.

  Pop had made a fantastical claim one evening when they were working on the Mustang. He’d said every O’Rourke male inherited the ability to know his soul mate the instant he saw her.

  The O’Rourke men fell in love with one glance.

  Out of four sons, Pop had told only him. Liam hadn’t quite believed the wild story, but had never forgotten it. As a bomb tech, he knew appearances were deceptive.

  What you couldn’t see was what got you killed.

  But over the past two years, Liam had watched Aidan and Con happily marry women they’d loved at first sight. Aidan and Zoe had just returned from their honeymoon in Jamaica.

  Liam rested his hand on Murphy’s head, taking comfort in his partner’s loyal support, his solid, unshakable presence. How had it all gone so wrong for him? Maybe Pop had foreseen disaster. Maybe he’d known Liam would need the knowledge to sustain him until he could find her again.

  Kate. The woman he’d loved and lost the same night.

  The night a family trait had turned into a terrible curse.

  Liam stroked Murphy’s soft coat. “She’s…” I think she might be The One. I have to know. Even though the idea makes me want to gear up in a blast suit. Even though I’ve only been with her once. Even though she hates my guts, hates my dog and believes I’m stalking her. Yeah. That sounds nice and sane.

  He struggled for an explanation that wouldn’t have Grady reaching for the white jacket that tied in the back. “Hanson will steamroll Kate. I have to protect her.” Would she thank him? Or run away again? He had to help her, regardless.

  Three sets of serious stares regarded him for several seconds. Then Grady grinned. “Yee-haw! Love ’em and leave ’em Liam finally met a woman he couldn’t turn his back on.”

  Would she take the opportunity to stomp all over him? Then walk out, leaving a bloody hole in his heart…just like Michelle?

  Aidan nodded at Liam, his brown eyes dark with empathy. “A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

  Con cocked his head. “But play your hand smart, not hard, little brother.”

  If they hadn’t intervened, he’d be cooling his heels in jail. Useless to Kate. He glanced at the thronged reporters in the distance. Oh yeah, the media would have salivated over footage of him assaulting a federal officer.
“I hear ya.”

  Aidan’s wife Zoe was somewhere in that media mob. She’d convinced Riverside station KKEY to let her accompany the SWAT team to Vegas and cover nonclassified sectors of regional Homeland Security training. Zoe was smart, sympathetic and chock-full of integrity, but even she wouldn’t have been able to put a positive spin on Liam throttling a Fed. The last time he’d fully unleashed his temper was his freshman year in college. That had been over a girl who’d ended up dumping him, too.

  He’d never lost it on the job. For Kate’s sake, he’d better get it together. Fast. Tactical strategies, not tantrums. “Stand down, guys. I’m over my case of the stupids.”

  His brothers opened the circle around him. With Murphy trotting at his heels, Liam sprinted toward his Mustang, parked at the outer perimeter. “Hate to leave when the party’s just getting started, but I have a damsel in distress to rescue.”

  Grady’s groan carried on the baking air. “He’s a goner.”

  Police officers crowded the room where Kate perched stiffly on a metal chair. They’d removed the cuffs to fingerprint her, but her arms were again bound behind her. The stocky incident commander sat across the table, still in full body armor. A balding man Hanson had addressed as Jerry guarded the door with his hand on his pistol as if she might make a break for it. She rolled her eyes. Like she was crazy enough to try.

  A redheaded detective and a gray-haired captain from the Vegas police stood beside Hanson as the FBI agent fired out questions. The local cops had angrily argued about jurisdiction after Hanson had brought her in, over an hour ago.

  They’d Mirandized her, but she hadn’t been charged. Hanson badgered her with questions, but wasn’t accepting her answers.

  None of them were listening to her.

  Kate glanced at her pale reflection in the wall mirror. Who was on the other side looking in? Her arms ached, and the tension winching her temples had intensified into a screaming headache. Great time for one of her migraines. She needed a clear head to get out of this. She shifted in the unforgiving chair. If only she could rub away the pain.