Heat of the Moment

by Diana Duncan

  He’d vowed to treat her just like any other job. And that’s exactly what he’d do. When it was over, he’d walk away. If he played it smart, he’d escape with all his vital organs intact.

  The door swung open, and a man dressed in blue surgical scrubs walked out of Aubrey’s room.

  Kate spun. “Dr. Vallano. How is she?”

  “She’s taken a turn for the worse.” The specialist’s face was grave. “I’ve never seen her so lethargic. Her despondent state is adversely affecting her health.”

  While Kate conferred with the doctor, Liam leaned against the door frame. He could observe the frail child inside, but Aubrey couldn’t see him or Murphy, who napped across the hall.

  He’d expected Aubrey to be blond. Instead, she was a tiny mirror image of Kate. Her pixie face was a delicate, pallid oval, too thin for her wide brown eyes, her hair a baby-fine fringe of brunette silk. Even her stoic expression reminded him of Kate. Judging by the kidlets he’d seen at K-9 public service demonstrations, she was not quite two. Just about the right age…

  Queasy suspicion backhanded him and he staggered. He gripped the door frame and struggled to inhale air that stung his throat like accelerant fumes.

  Had he and Kate conceived a child that fateful night? He’d been careful, and they hadn’t even come close to a grand finale, but stranger things had happened.

  Was that what Kate had meant by another impulsive decision that had cost her everything?

  Chapter 6

  5:00 p.m.

  The doctor hurried away, and Kate turned to Liam, her pretty face furrowed into a baffled frown. Probably because he’d gone from leaning against the doorjamb to ramrod straight.

  Her frown deepened. “Liam? Are you sick?”

  He’d bet his beloved Mustang that his complexion was the same color as the trim—pea soup. “How…how old is she?” His hoarse question was as uneven as his pistoning pulse.

  “She’ll be three in March. She was born the night we met.”

  He wasn’t entirely convinced. Then why had Kate been devastated that evening? Why had she been sitting in a bar, morose and alone, instead of celebrating the birth at the hospital with her family? “She looks a lot younger.”

  “She’s small because of her condition.” She reached for him, caught herself. “Liam, are you all right?”

  “Ah. Makes sense.” The ice thawed in his gut and his bunched muscles relaxed. If he’d had time to think it through, he’d have known she wouldn’t blow off her own daughter. Especially to someone as harebrained as Janine.

  Aubrey was not their child. The last complication they needed was a kid thrown into the volatile mix. Yet an odd, unexpected sense of longing ensnared him. “I’m okay.”

  “You still look kind of…seasick. Maybe you should go down to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat and some coffee.”

  He arched a brow. “The pale pot calling the kettle peaked.”

  “I’ll eat later.” She absentmindedly rubbed her temples. A gesture she’d repeated many times over the past few hours.

  Crap! He could kick his own butt for not honing in on the signal. “You have a headache, too, don’t deny it. You’ve had one all day. Did you take anything for it?”

  “I’m fine.” She made shooing motions. “Go do whatever you need to. I’ll be finished shortly, and then we’ll both eat.”

  He couldn’t suppress a grin. “I don’t remember you being this bossy, Just Kate.”

  Her reciprocal smile was genuine, if frayed around the edges. “And I don’t remember you acting so maternal.”

  “Maternal? Just because a guy is concerned…” He narrowed his eyes. “Hell, you might as well slap a frilly apron on me.”

  Her smile twitched into a droll grin. “Whatever blows your hair back.”

  Chuckling, Liam loped down the corridor. He didn’t need the red-lettered signs posted in the hallway warning that cell calls weren’t allowed. He was familiar with RFI—radio frequency interference. RFI could detonate a bomb blast. Purposely or unintentionally—depending on the trigger mechanism. In a hospital, it affected vital functions like ventilators, monitors, pacemakers and anesthesia equipment.

  At the nurses’ station, his badge and a little banter snagged him two ibuprofen for Kate and access to a landline. As Riverside’s Alpha SWAT team leader, Con had his hands full until the day shift was over, so Liam phoned Aidan and requested that he run Daniel through NCIC, the national crime information center computer. While he was at it, he contacted Alex and asked him to discreetly scrutinize Chuck Hanson’s job performance. He didn’t think the FBI agent was bent, just relentless. But you never knew. Relentless was one step away from fanatical.

  His dislike of both men didn’t figure into the equation—much. He planned to check out everyone connected to Kate. Stalkers were cunning, and adept at disguising twisted secrets behind “normal” personalities. Until an inciting incident flushed them out, they could work or socialize with the object of their obsession without the victims having a clue.

  Causing lethal results.

  However, her stalker could be a casual acquaintance, or a stranger. Someone obsessed with Renée Allete as a “celebrity.” Any Beatles fan could tell you that scenario never ended well.

  Liam narrowed his eyes. He’d have to constantly look over his shoulder. Nobody would hurt Kate on his watch.

  His next call was to Zoe, superjournalist. He found her in the boutique at Paris, Vegas, with Con’s wife Bailey.

  Aidan could find out if Daniel had a record, but his sister-in-law would uncover any indiscretions Tyler had in his private life since preschool. Liam didn’t even want to know how. With Zoe, a don’t ask, don’t tell policy was always wise.

  He could also count on her generosity to provide free publicity for the auction. He related details, and Zoe promised to meet them at Kate’s convenience for an interview.

  He hung up, sweet-talked a can of soda from a nurse, then strode to Aubrey’s room. He peeked inside. Kate sat on the edge of the bed, where the tiny girl lay limp and unresponsive.

  Kate smoothed Aubrey’s hair back from her wan face. “Where’s my little sunbeam today?”

  Aubrey’s reply was barely audible. “I don’t feel shiny.”

  “I have grape bubble gum in my pocket. Would that help?”

  “No thank you, Auntie Kate.”

  Kate lifted a plastic cup from the bedside table and urged the child to take a sip from the straw. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  Aubrey hesitated. “Mommy was crying again.”

  Kate stiffened. “She’ll be okay. She’s…tired. You know how you feel cranky when you miss your nap?” Her voice was calm, but her awkward movements shouted distress. She set aside the cup of water. “Grandma took her home so she can rest.”

  “Auntie Kate?” Aubrey’s lip trembled. “I don’t wanna die.”

  “Oh, baby.” Kate bent and kissed the fragile little girl’s forehead. “You aren’t going to die.”

  “Mommy said Dr. Volcano said so.”

  A muscle ticked in Kate’s jaw. “She misunderstood. Dr. Vallano said you’re going to get better.” She clasped Aubrey’s thin hand in hers. “We have special plans, remember?”

  Aubrey nodded slowly, as if movement required extreme effort. “We’re gonna swim. But I’m maybe not too strong.”

  “You will be, soon. And then we’re going to snorkel in the Caribbean. We’ll see all the pretty fish, like the little orange and white striped guy in your favorite movie.”

  “That fishie gots losted…and his daddy was sad. Will you cry like Mommy if I die?”

  Kate choked, cleared her throat. “That…that is not going to happen. After the operation, you’ll be strong and healthy.”

  “I’m scared, Auntie Kate. I don’t wanna go away.” Tears leaked from Aubrey’s eyes and trickled down her gaunt cheeks.

  Liam’s chest ached as if he’d stepped on a nail bomb and had his heart driven full of rusty spikes. He strode insid
e the room. “Someone told me there was a princess in here.”

  Aubrey scrubbed her eyes with her fists. Her dainty brows quirked in surprise. “I’m not a princess!”

  “What if you are, and don’t know it?”

  Her too-wise-for-her-years gaze solemnly tracked him from head to toe, then back. “My mommy isn’t a queen.”

  Drama queen must not count. His gaze snagged Kate’s, and he smirked. She bit back a chuckle. “You are so bad.”

  “Me?” He blinked, all innocence. “I didn’t say a word.”

  Aubrey’s glance settled on his gun, and her face brightened. “A laser blaster! Are you a Power Ranger?”

  He smiled. “No, I’m a police officer. My name is Liam.”

  “Ohhhh! Cops!” The tiny girl clapped her hands and chanted a theme song about bad boys.

  He slanted a brow. “Isn’t Cops…advanced for a preschooler?”

  Kate smiled ruefully. “Aubrey’s not very active these days, and Janine keeps her occupied with lots of TV.”

  Queen Mum of the year. He handed Kate the ibuprofen. “Here ya go.” He passed her the can. “And a miracle caffeine elixir to perform amazing feats of healing on your headache and your blood sugar.”

  Kate swallowed the tablets with soda. “I’ll bet my Leica you’ve kissed the Blarney stone.”

  “Aye, that I have, Just Kate. As a wee lad o’ twelve.” He adopted Gran’s Irish accent, which seemed to delight Kate. He’d been born a mimic, an advantage during speech and drama classes. As a kid, he used to perform a dead-on rendition of his father that never failed to crack up his family…including Pop. He hadn’t had the heart to do it since Pop had been gone.

  “What a surprise. Not!”

  Aubrey sat up, more animated than he’d previously seen her. “I have weak kid’s knees. They don’t work, and make me sick.”

  Liam rounded the bed and perched on the edge opposite Kate. He plumped Aubrey’s pillows to support her back, chagrined to see her collarbone sticking out above her pink Barbie nightie. “I know. But I hear you’re getting a new kidney, soon.”

  “Yup.” The little girl nodded. “In a oper-operation.”

  He nodded at the child, who was slurping on the straw. “She has an advanced vocabulary for such a young rug rat.”

  “She has a huge IQ. And she’s been surrounded by adults all her life. She speaks French, too. I’ve read to her in both English and French since she was a newborn. She loves stories.” Kate stroked Aubrey’s baby-soft cheek. The night her niece had been born, she’d thought she’d lost everything. But she’d actually been given a different perspective…personally and professionally. Over the past two and a half years, she’d learned to settle for the hand she’d been dealt. Learned to squelch her yearning for things that had been snatched out of her reach forever.

  “I thought you were living in Paris.”

  “I have been. Daniel is a senior exec for my father’s environmentally friendly cleaning products company. He travels constantly, and Janine accompanies him. Mom can’t keep up with a child, and my work is flexible. Aubrey has spent a lot of time in Paris with me.” She mouthed the next sentence at him, so Aubrey couldn’t hear. “She’s only recently become so ill.”

  They shared silent worry across the bed. Kate looked down at Aubrey. Tortured anxiety shadowed the little girl’s innocent brown eyes, and Kate’s stomach rolled. No child should have to bear the wrenching fear of imminent death.

  Nor should their loved ones. Dread coiled inside her. She couldn’t lose Aubrey. The little girl was her one delight. Aubrey deserved a future, and Kate would make sure she got one.

  Liam gently patted Aubrey’s other hand. “You like stories, princess? You want to hear a true story?”

  Aubrey’s petite nose scrunched. “Are you any good?”

  “I’ve been told I am.” Liam chuckled. “I have plenty of experience. My baby brother Grady used to be afraid of monsters, and I would tell him stories to help him fall asleep.”

  “Okay, then.” Nodding, Aubrey leaned back against her pillows. “Auntie Kate says it’s ’portant to try new things.”

  Aubrey’s tense little hand relaxed in Kate’s. Enchanted, she listened to the misadventures of Murphy, the mischievous puppy. At Murphy’s encounter with a hazelnut hurling squirrel, Aubrey’s sparkling giggle floated out. Kate’s delighted gaze met Liam’s. Aubrey hadn’t laughed for weeks.

  Apparently, no females from three to ninety-three were immune to the O’Rourke appeal.

  His tone went low and quiet. “Close your eyes, princess.” Aubrey’s lashes fluttered down on pale cheeks, and Liam’s soothing voice spun the story’s end. By the time Murphy the puppy fell asleep snuggled in a nest of baby kittens, Aubrey was also asleep, her breathing even, her tiny face serene.

  Kate could barely speak around the lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “My privilege,” he whispered in return.

  Hot tears pressured her eyelids. He had consoled the distraught child. He’d given Aubrey the precious gift of peace when nobody else could. Something strange had happened as he’d woven his comforting tapestry of words. As Kate had stared into his kind green eyes, listened to his smooth baritone, he’d cast a spell. With tender empathy, he’d consoled Aubrey.

  And enchanted Kate all over again.

  Just over two years ago, they’d shared the hot flare of desire. Today, they’d shared the enduring, steady warmth of compassion. Both connected them in a unique bond she’d never experienced with anyone. And she wanted more. She was so alone. So cold. Had never yearned so badly to take a chance. Longed to risk it all. Her pulse spiked on a sharp stab of fear.

  She’d never been so scared.

  Compelled to put distance between them, Kate moved silently to the window. She squinted at the sun-glazed landscape beyond the open blinds. If she risked everything, she would lose everything. She’d already learned that lesson…the hard way.

  The relentless Vegas sun hovered in a blazing ball low on the horizon. Love was like sunlight. At first, it shone bright and beckoning, enticed you closer. Chased away the cold. Nurtured lovely green plants that shaded and nourished. When you got too comfortable, lingered too long unaware, it burned you. Blistered and blackened every living particle. Until your heart shriveled to arid wasteland…like the surrounding desert.

  She couldn’t count on anyone. Couldn’t depend on anyone not to betray her. Couldn’t trust anyone.

  A brief interval of glittering warmth wasn’t worth the inevitable scalding pain.

  She straightened. Heck, scientists had proven that people who lived in cold climates were better preserved. She’d keep her emotions in the deep-freeze, where they would be protected.

  Where she was safe.

  Liam joined her at the window. “A penny for your thoughts.”

  “Don’t waste your money.” Aching from the effort to subdue her longing, she turned toward him. Golden light bronzed his exquisite face. Sunbeams played over the strong planes and kissed his shapely mouth, and warm highlights twinkled in his emerald eyes. An ancient god, formed from the gilded mist of Celtic legend. Ruler of all he surveyed. Charming, seductive and beautiful, conquering hearts wherever his arrows struck.

  And it wasn’t mere window dressing. Liam Michael O’Rourke was gorgeous inside and out. His beauty went soul deep. His intelligence, compassion and surefire humor were what made him so attractive. So hard to resist. So dangerous.

  He was the one man who could pierce the glacier shielding her heart. Tempt her to tango way too close to the sun.

  Soar like Icarus, melt her wings and plunge to her death.

  She smothered dismay. If she played now, she’d pay later. Being sheltered in a layer of ice wasn’t so bad. She’d grown used to the chill.

  She had her life in Paris, her photography and visits with Aubrey. What more did she need? What she wanted didn’t count.

  Liam propped a hip on the windowsill, his fluid movements the oppo
site of his earlier unease. Some people couldn’t handle intense medical situations, especially with kids. However, the devil-may-care bomb tech hardly struck her as the type to contract the queasies from a hospital. What had caused his earlier discomfort? He glanced at the sleeping child, his green eyes warm and tender. “She looks exactly like you.”

  “Much to Janine’s distress. She wanted a blond baby doll.”

  He frowned. “As long as they’re healthy, who cares?” He waited a beat. “Is your sister…ah…unstable?”

  She shook her head. How to answer that question? “Janine was born with a heart murmur that corrected itself by age one. However, her infamous ‘episodes’ have incapacitated her since childhood with headaches, nausea and sobbing jags. In spite of CAT scans, MRIs and oodles of lab work, no doctor has ever offered a physical diagnosis.” She sighed. “Mother had three miscarriages between our births, and my sister’s well-being is her obsession.”

  “Your sis and brother-in-law are quite a pair.”

  “Yes, they deserve one another.”

  He studied her purposely bland expression. “Was that meant to be as snarky as you were careful not to make it sound?”

  Kate started. Nobody read her like he did. She could fool everyone but him. With Liam, she couldn’t hide inside her shell. He saw right through it, knew what she thought, what she felt. Could he also see the scared, uncertain woman she was, instead of the capable facade she presented to the world? A horrifying thought. “Um…probably.” She pursed her lips. “Is that mean?”

  “Hell, no. Compared to my opinion, it’s charitable. I thought there was gonna be a nasty scene in the hallway.”

  “Like I’d make a scene.”

  He smirked. “Not you, me.” He took her hand. Though she hated to admit it, she appreciated the comfort. Seeing Aubrey in rapid decline had scared her beyond reason. His thumb stroked her palm in rhythmic circles. “Your mother is devoted to your sister. How does your dad fit in?”