by Diana Duncan
He blew through another intersection. “We searched the debris, but couldn’t find him.” He blinked, as if seeing the atrocity again. “Only his blood.”
“Oh, Liam.” She rubbed his arm, offering what little comfort she could.
“Aidan and I didn’t want Mom to see the carnage. We blocked the door, but she fought. Both of us could barely keep her out. I think she thought Pop was inside, and was trying to get to him. None of us were too coherent.”
“Nobody would be.”
“We took her to our neighbor Letty’s house. Grady came unglued…it messed him up bad. Aidan made him stay with Mom. Aidan held Con and me together while the CSI team collected evidence. After, Grady came back over. Man, he was blank…a zombie. The four of us went into the family room and started scrubbing away the gore.”
Her sister would have dissolved into hysteria, and her mom would have devoted herself to Janine’s needs—leaving “more capable” Kate to fend for herself. “I can’t believe how strong you all were…even so young.”
“No way were we gonna make Mom deal with that.” He grimaced. “Seemed like I was on my knees mopping up blood forever. We worked like robots. Did what had to be done. We ripped out the carpet and drove it and Pop’s ruined chair to the dump. We climbed into the back of Con’s truck and heaved Pop’s recliner over the side. The four of us looked at our father’s chair sitting in the garbage, blood spattered and broken.” He shifted, roared around a truck. “Then we lost it. Put our arms around each other and cried.”
Though she hadn’t cried in two years, tears burned her eyelids. He’d opened his life, his heart. Revealed his deepest hurt. Why? Maybe to show her that she wasn’t alone in experiencing bloody loss and betrayal?
Yet Liam seemed happy, while she’d withdrawn into a lonely, brittle protective shell. She forced down the lump in her throat. “I’m glad you and your brothers had each other.” Maybe that was the difference. Not trying to handle the pain all by yourself. But she was a pro at flying solo.
“I felt alone. We all did. After the memorial service, the house was empty. Cold. I’d never see my father again. Never smell his spicy aftershave in the bathroom in the mornings. Never hear him belting out naughty limericks.” His voice caught. “Never get another big, warm bear hug.”
Murphy whimpered from behind Liam. The dog planted his wide paws on the seat back and rested his muzzle on Liam’s right shoulder…almost as if he were offering Liam a hug.
Kate snatched her hand away. Odd how Murphy seemed cognizant of Liam’s moods. A freaky coincidence. Animals didn’t possess rational motivations. Maybe he needed to go outside.
Liam gripped the wheel until his knuckles whitened as he swiftly negotiated traffic. “I wandered out to the garage. I climbed inside the Mustang and sat, clinging to the steering wheel. Then I revved her up and drove out of the city. I put the top down and let her rip. The solid gearshift in my hand, the roar of the engine and the wind in my face washed away the pain and anger.”
He hesitated, then forged ahead. “I swear, I could feel Pop sitting beside me, telling me everything would be okay.”
“Maybe he was.”
“I’ve never told anyone about that. It sounds certifiable.”
“No, I understand completely.”
“I thought you might.” He gave her a crooked smile.
“Did they ever find out what happened to your dad?”
“Only recently. We just got his remains back.” Liam went silent for a moment, then sighed and gave Kate a crooked smile. “It’s a long story, for another time.”
Their unspoken bond, shared feelings and, most of all, his unflinching honesty gave her the courage to offer a confession. “In my most…desolate moments during those early days in Paris, I treasured the one painting I have by my grandmother. She was also an artist. I never met her, but somehow, through the painting…her essence encouraged me.”
“You do get it.” He shot her a look of wonder. “Whenever I miss Pop, I take this pony out and open her up…and he’s there.”
“Which explains why you drove to Vegas instead of flying.”
He stroked the dog’s muzzle, snuggled into his shoulder. “I didn’t want to subject Murphy to the cargo hold of a plane.”
Murphy flopped down with a gusty sigh. Kate fidgeted with her camera to hide her roiling emotions. Liam’s brush with tragedy had caused him to form strong attachments. He possessed love and loyalty for his family, his dog and even his car.
Love and loyalty she’d yearned for her entire life.
His feelings ran deep and touched the loneliness inside her. Aching to respond, she fought the crazy urge to fling herself into his arms. To comfort and be comforted. To soak in his warm strength and understanding. To lose her flaws in the consuming passion her body and soul remembered.
Doubts assailed her. Though her heart was breaking for him, how did he feel about her? Had the trauma of his father’s murder unsettled him enough to make him cling too tightly…causing him to stalk her after their night together?
She studied his noble profile, his face heavy with sorrow. If she bought into that theory, then she’d have to take the next logical step and surmise he’d also tried to kill her. Did she actually believe that? Could she go that far?
Could he?
Liam glanced at her. “I’ll need names, occupations and birth dates of every guy you’ve dated or had personal contact with the past couple years.”
She bit her lip. “I’m not really comfortable giving you that kind of personal information.”
“Even if one of them could be stalking you?” He abruptly jerked the car over to the curb. “What is your major malfunction, Kate?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“No more bluffing.” Fury flared his eyes. “Let’s both lay our cards on the table. Go all in. Right here. Right now.”
Chapter 5
4:00 p.m.
Kate stared at the livid cop, her thoughts spinning faster than the slot machines at Caesar’s. Confrontation was so not her forte. She went out of her way to avoid it. Growing up, her sister had kept everyone in constant upheaval. Everything was done Janine’s way…or take the highway. Kate never wanted to behave like that. She craved peace, needed the security of stability. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He snorted. “I won a buttload of college debate trophies. Don’t try to out-BS a champion BSer.”
Taut urgency thrummed inside her. “We don’t have time. I need to get to the hospital.”
“I’ll get you to the hospital, ASAP. First, we settle this. If you don’t trust me, I can’t help you. Can’t protect you. Not trusting me could cost you your life.” He frowned. “Two years ago, you went home with me. You trusted me to be your lover.” He unsnapped his seat belt and turned toward her. “Trusted me to be your first lover. What the hell is it now that puts fear in your eyes?”
She had trusted him. When she’d thought she’d never trust anyone again. Except the way Liam made her feel wasn’t comfortable. She gnawed her lip. The way he forced her to confront her emotions was awful. Her parents had continually let her down. Her fiancé had slept with another woman. Her sister was always selfish. Often frantic. Kate had chosen the polar opposite of Janine’s rants. In order to survive, she needed a clean, angst-free canvas inside. She strove to maintain constancy, to achieve quiet blankness.
Loss of control equaled disaster.
Liam had hurtled her so far out of her comfort zone that she was in another galaxy. Could that cause her to rationalize uneasiness as suspicion?
She looked at his amazing face, and felt the familiar clutch of desire. It could. Unlike wildfire attraction, suspicion was manageable. Suspicion helped her maintain a safe distance.
Suspicion couldn’t stab her through the heart.
Kate marshaled her fortitude. “It’s not you who’s different. It’s me. Perhaps…I…I’ve learned to expect betrayal.”
“I’ve never betra
yed you.” Liam’s big hands grasped her shoulders. “I just spilled my guts to you. Four hours ago, I saved your life. I sprung your cute little behind out of federal custody—at no small hazard to my career. And I got your camera back, which also put my butt on the line. I love my job. Too much to torch it with a self-indulgent stalker fantasy.”
He was right. He’d been honest from the moment they’d met. Today, he’d jeopardized everything he valued, and asked nothing in return. He could have kissed her in the parking lot, and easily squelched every objection. Dissolved her inhibitions. She would have surrendered without a shot being fired.
Her attention locked on his sensual lips, and he arched an ironic brow. Worse, he knew it. Instead, he’d exhibited steel-clad self-discipline and stepped back.
Although so many things about Liam confused her, she understood him well enough to realize how tough it had been for him to pull back. He didn’t retreat from challenges. Heck, she’d witnessed the adrenaline glitter in his eyes when he’d disarmed the bomb. He reveled in them.
“Didn’t our night together prove anything?”
The past flew up to mock her. Liam’s concern for her well-being in the bar that long-ago night. His matter-of-fact acceptance of her disability. Him teasing her into a dance, and holding, kissing her maimed hand without pause.
His awed expression as he’d made love to her, as if she were precious and valuable.
Shared memories flickered in his gaze. She wasn’t the only one jolting down memory lane. He drew her toward him. His body heat, his pine-forest scent beckoned her closer, until inches separated them. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Just Kate,” he whispered. His fury yielded to pained confusion. “But I didn’t hurt you then, and I swear I won’t hurt you now.”
Kate took pride in seeing life as it was, not as she wished it. She stared into his searing green gaze, struggling to discern reality from imagination. “You’re not stalking me?”
She expected him to get angry again, spout indignant protests.
“No.” His quietly sad denial recalled his tenderness and understanding when she’d called an abrupt halt to their lovemaking. She’d seen him mad before—moments ago, in fact—but his ire flashed as quick and hot as a summer storm. And passed as rapidly. He wasn’t sneaky or devious. Not the kind to hold a grudge.
His grip gentled. “The only thing you gain by holding on too tight is an armored truckload of pain.”
Kate pressed her pounding temples. How idiotic could she be? A love ’em and leave ’em guy wouldn’t stalk a woman. Leaving was what they did best. Liam didn’t hide his feelings. If he got angry, he said so. Laid his cards on the table, as he’d just done. He’d fight fast and furious and then it would blow over.
Making up could be incredibly interesting.
Battered by conflicted emotions, she glanced at him through the buffer of her lashes. “I’m trying to figure out the truth.”
He frowned. “You know the truth.”
The scary thing was, she did. Liam hadn’t become angry or obsessive that night…only worried about her. Kate expelled a frustrated breath. She’d almost made another emotionally laden decision and messed up again. Self-defense had been her number one priority for so long, it was her operational default mode. If she let down her guard, admitted he wasn’t the man stalking her, it relieved the threat to her physical safety.
And tripled the threat to her heart.
He smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Here’s the truth. I’m responsible for protecting you. I’ll lay down my life to do so. Believe it.”
Her nerves thrummed. She’d rather believe he was stalking her. It was less frightening than their crackling chemistry. If he were “the enemy,” it was easier to keep a detached, remote perspective. Fiery attraction would only burn them both.
Yet, even as his gaze held her captive, she did believe him. He would willingly die to protect her. Apprehension slithered up her spine. She was in far more danger than before. She’d rather go quick and clean in an explosion than wallow in the torn, blood-soaked remnants of shattered dreams.
Been there, done that. Lost everything.
Cold terror clawed at her defensive shield. Liam might be able to save her life…but he couldn’t save her from desire.
Liam warily monitored Kate’s silent battle. She’d erected a frozen fortress that no Vegas heat wave could melt, but her vulnerable fawn’s gaze revealed far more than she knew.
The idea that she thought he was a superficial, selfish party dude rankled. Worse, it hurt. Hellfire, talk about revelations. The appalling impulse to confide in her about Pop had ambushed him—as treacherous as a hidden minefield. Once he’d stepped in it, he was committed to moving forward.
He grimaced. All these years, he’d managed to hide his pain from those who knew him best. After Pop’s murder, Liam’s self-appointed duty was to cheer up his loved ones. Revive their shattered spirits. Keep hope alive. The last thing they needed was for him to dump his personal angst. His intrepid sense of humor had been his saving grace…and theirs.
If Kate wanted to believe he was stalking her, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to change her mind. Perhaps the spontaneous unload would encourage her to trust him. She had to trust him. Had to obey him without question. Or they could both die. Alex’s sources had indicated that Interpol suspected Les Hommes de la Mort of the bombings. Phillipe Marché, an infamous bomber who had terrorized Europe in the late seventies and early eighties had founded the ruthless international terrorist organization—The Men of Death. If they were involved, Kate was in mortal danger.
The woman he’d met two years ago had been intuitive, intelligent and fair-minded. Willing to take a chance on him. At least he’d thought so. He studied her face, so still and pale her delicate features might have been chiseled from ice, and a chill crawled down his backbone.
Had he gambled his life—and Kate’s—on a fantasy?
Her summer meadow scent, so at odds with her cool facade, filled his head, buzzed his senses. He chafed at the delay. As a SWAT bomb tech, he’d been trained to make fast decisions. To adlib, and get it right. Or people died. For a man used to taking immediate action, who didn’t let anyone make judgment calls for him, waiting was pure torture.
Resignation shadowed her gaze, followed quickly by fear. Not fear of him. Fear of the truth. “I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful for all you’ve done. But I needed to sort through the facts. I have to protect myself. In every way.” Her lips trembled. “I believe you. Thank you, Liam, for risking everything for me.”
He released a silent sigh. Believing had her on the ropes. “I’d do it again in a hot second.”
“I don’t understand why,” she whispered.
“Because, like it or not, you need me, Just Kate.” His fingers tightened on the smooth skin of her bare shoulders with the desire to yank her to him. To wrap his arms around her and kiss her until he drove the sorrow from her wide brown eyes. Until the worry lines around her mouth softened and her lips surrendered to his. Until her body went limp with sated pleasure beneath him. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Kate moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, and the unconsciously sensual gesture constricted his abdominal muscles. He’d never forgotten her hot, sweet taste. The way she’d trembled with passion in his arms. How her soft curves melded into his hard angles, as if she’d been made only for him. Damn, the heavy beat of blood through his veins was scalding.
“We’re through.” She pulled back. “I need to get to the hospital. Now.”
“Right.” Slammed headfirst into reality, he commanded himself to release her. He’d damned well better put passion on a short leash. He’d been assigned to protect her, but he wasn’t about to hand any woman his heart. Especially Kate. He couldn’t trust her not to detonate the charges and blast it to pieces.
Kate already walked out on him once. Just like Michelle before her. Michelle had taken his heart and his engagement r
ing. Tossed three years into the crapper without a backward glance. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, and I’m a gullible idiot with kibble for brains.
He fastened his seat belt, and merged into traffic. For two years, he’d corralled his feelings for Kate by pouring time and energy into renovating his house. He’d hammered, sanded and painted to keep from going crazy with questions he couldn’t answer.
Now she’d been tossed back into his life…and the scenario was as dicey as juggling live ammo.
Their past might be history, but it was far from over.
He checked the rearview mirror and swore. “We’ve picked up a tail.”
Kate swiveled. “I’ve been watching. I always watch. I didn’t see anyone.”
“Gray SUV three cars back.” He’d bet it was Chuck’s flunkies. The Fed was a Gila monster. Once he clamped his jaws down, he didn’t let go until you chopped off his head. However, Liam wasn’t taking chances with Kate.
“Hold on.” He depressed the clutch and shifted. “Murphy, floor!” Murphy jumped to the floor behind the driver’s seat.
Liam swerved into the right lane, looked in the mirror and swore again as a black Triumph motorcycle broke from the pack. The leather-clad, dark-helmeted biker zoomed past two cars on the shoulder, engaged in active pursuit. A sawed-off shotgun rode at his side. Liam’s senses screamed to red alert. That wasn’t the FBI. “Make that two. An SUV and a bike.”
Kate unbuckled her seat belt, clambered up and knelt on the seat facing backwards.
“What the hell are you doing? Get strapped in!”
“Photographic evidence.” She pointed her camera at the back windshield and the shutter whirred with rapid-fire shots.
“Sit, dammit!” Liam yanked the wheel into an abrupt right turn. Downshifting, he sped across both lanes, ignored blaring horns behind him and swung a left.
“It’s my life, my career in jeopardy. If I prove I’m being stalked, the FBI will leave me alone and go after him.” Kate clung to the seat and clicked away.
