by Virna DePaul
Now, taking her seat in Judge Butler’s courtroom for the morning calendar, her compact stenograph in front of her, Mattie staunchly refused to look at the tall man standing guard just behind her. Unfortunately, she didn’t need to look at him to know that his short-sleeved, tan uniform hugged his muscular shoulders and thick thighs to perfection. Just like it had every day this week.
Hating the way her feelings and libido had gotten so out of control, she wanted to kick herself anytime desire made her stomach clench. In fairness, however, she’d be kicking herself all the time. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the routine of her job, her worries about Jordan, and her healing but fragile relationship with her brother, Tony. When that didn’t work, she tried to drum up some excitement for her date with Ty that night. In the past week, the man had sent her flowers and called just to chat. He was intelligent, charming and clearly interested in her despite the fact she was a single mother. All she could think of, however, was Dom. Even after the incident in the break room yesterday, she’d pulled her box of college memorabilia out of the attic and spent hours looking at photos and reading his letters.
That made her a fool but, even worse, a masochist.
Yet, she couldn’t deny it. Ever since Dominic had started working in Judge Butler’s courtroom, his image had haunted her at all times of the day and night. Short, sun-kissed brown hair framing piercing blue eyes. Prominent, angular jaw. And the slightest hint of a cleft chin that made her lips tingle with the desire to kiss it.
One month, she told herself desperately. He was only here for one month until their regular bailiff returned from paternity leave. That was less than twenty workdays. Surely she could hold it together that long.
“Mattie, you’ve got a phone call on line three.”
Glancing up, Mattie waved at the judge’s perky intern, who immediately went back to texting her boyfriend. Thankful for the interruption lest she actually start salivating over the man behind her, Mattie picked up the phone. “This is Mathilda Nolan.”
The voice that answered was phlegmy and studded with hoarse coughs. “Mattie…it’s Jennifer.”
“Jennifer Taylor?” she asked with a hint of dread. Sure enough, it was Jordan’s after-school caregiver, calling to say she’d come down with pneumonia and that she’d have to close her program for at least a few days. Mattie hung up the phone and groaned.
She was barely making ends meet and couldn’t afford to leave work early. The only person she knew who could pick up Jordan from school was Tony and he—
“Something wrong?” The deep voice startled her, but it was the sudden whiff of clean, male ruggedness that caused her to take a long, careful breath. Did Dominic have to smell as delicious as he looked?
Without turning around, she said, “No. Just a hitch with my daughter’s day care.”
“Your boyfriend can’t pick her up?”
Mattie hesitated, unsure why he was angling for personal information. She shook her head and picked up the phone again. If Jordan stayed at school for tutoring, her brother Tony could pick her up and bring her home. He’d only have to watch her for a couple of hours before Mattie got off. Then her regular babysitter would take over while Mattie went on her first date with Ty Martinez.
Mattie sighed and rubbed her temple, trying to rub away the frisson of doubt that poked at her. It’s okay, she told herself. You can trust Tony now. He’s proven himself time and again.
With a decisive nod, Mattie dialed Tony’s number and made her request. Her brother instantly agreed and Mattie hung up the phone, proud that she’d given Tony the benefit of the doubt. Everyone deserved a second chance, didn’t they?
Glancing at the clock, she started her finger exercises, well aware that today’s calendar was going to be a busy one. Without the exercises, her fingers would ache so badly at the end of the day that she’d be in a bad mood for the rest of the night.
“A man might wonder exactly what you’re training those fingers for, you know.”
At the sound of her friend’s joking voice, Mattie smiled and turned. Instantly, however, Mattie could tell something was wrong. Deputy D.A. Linda Delaney, a woman who prided herself on her ability to eat conflict for breakfast, had shadows under her eyes and no makeup on her normally cosmetically enhanced face. Mattie stood and rushed toward her. “What is it?”
Linda grimaced. “What gave me away?”
“Your lack of lipstick.”
“That hideous?”
“Stop it, Ms. Argyle Teen Beauty Queen.”
“I knew I should never have told you that. It’ll always come back to haunt me.”
“What happened? Did you get another phone call?”
Linda had gotten a few hang-ups over the last few months, but hadn’t seemed particularly concerned. Not until the calls had increased to five or ten a day. Then she’d changed her number.
“No more calls. My—my apartment was broken into last night.”
“What?!” Mattie reached out and pulled her friend in for a hug. “Were you home? Were you hurt?”
Linda pulled back. “No and no. But the place was trashed. Considering I live in under a thousand square feet, that isn’t a lot of trash, but they broke the crystal heart my grandmother gave me before she died. It’s—” She visibly tried to stop herself from releasing the tears in her eyes. “It’s got a huge crack in it now.”
Mattie pulled her in for another hug and this time Linda squeezed back just as tight. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. Have you called the police?”
Sniffing but controlling her tears, Linda shot Mattie a tight smile. “Yes. They processed the place. Took a report. And they said—”
“Ladies.”
Mattie jerked at the sound of Dominic’s voice. He stood behind them, his face as impassive as ever. “Transport was running late but the in-custody defendants are finally here. I need to clear the courtroom.”
“Give us a minute. Can’t you see Linda is upset?”
Linda placed a hand on Mattie’s arm. “It’s okay, Mattie. I’ve got someone I need to talk to anyway.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the hallway. Through the window-paneled double doors, Mattie saw a uniformed officer.
“For a case or—” She glanced at Dom, unsure what he’d heard. “Or your case?”
“Mine.”
“I hope he’s good enough to find the lowlife responsible.”
“That makes both of us. I’ll stop by in a few hours. Lunch?”
Mattie nodded, but her friend had already turned and was headed out the door. Glancing at her watch, Mattie sighed. She should go back and tell Judge Butler the calendar would be ready to start soon, only she didn’t want to dodge any more of his well-meaning questions about Tony. But Brenda had been on her cell phone off and on all morning, and the last time Mattie had seen her she’d been talking in hushed tones in a corner of the break room. That left her to get things started.
“Ms. Nolan?”
Once more, Mattie jerked at the low, masculine rumble behind her. She slowly turned to face Dominic, acutely aware of the betraying heat on her face. His normally composed features were now set in a slight frown of annoyance.
“Yes?”
“You need to leave, remember?”
He didn’t smile. His eyes didn’t crinkle at their edges. Somehow she still sensed his amusement. Feeling off-kilter, she glanced at the closed doorway of the in-custody holding area and then around the courtroom. They were alone.
Dominic stepped forward until he was just inches from her, close enough that she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. Automatically, she took two steps back, only to stumble on her chair. “Oh, no—” Her heartbeat accelerated rapidly as she felt herself falling.
Strong fingers closed around her arm and steadied her. She wobbled for a moment, then pushed her hair back from her face. Strong, yet gentle, she thought. He obviously still knew how to regulate that powerful body of his. “Thank you,” she breathed. At least she’d fulfilled one
fantasy—getting him to touch her again. And it felt far better than she’d have thought possible.
How pathetic was that?
Dominic said nothing, nor did he release her. Instead, they stared at one another, their gazes locked. Heat warmed her skin from her head to her toes, settling into the nooks and crannies in between. She took a deep breath, trying to counter the sudden trembling in her limbs. For a split second, his gaze lowered to the rise of her chest. He dropped his hand and stepped back, his frown even more prominent than before.
“You’re holding things up,” he said abruptly.
The harshness of his tone registered like a slap. Straightening, she managed to glare at him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Next time just let me fall.” She bolstered her pride and stalked past him, heading for the narrow hallway between the courtroom, the interior offices, and Judge Butler’s chambers.
Arrogant jerk. But this was great, she thought. Just what she needed. His bad attitude shook the fantasies right out of her. In fact, she just might—
Before she could complete the thought, the door to the in-custody room flew open, almost hitting her.
“No!”
She registered Dominic’s yell just as a tall, thin-rail man dressed in an orange jumpsuit rushed into the courtroom. He froze in front of her, seeming as startled to see her as she was to see him. Behind him, another sheriff’s deputy was wrestling with a second man in orange. The one in front lunged toward her.
She tried to scream, tried to dodge him, but she couldn’t. Fear clogged her throat and all she could think was, No, my family needs me.
Even as she finally managed to turn, desperate fingers clawed at her arm. She screamed, pulling away, actually dragging the inmate forward two steps until he abruptly released her. Her own momentum carried her to the ground. The impact was hard enough to stun her, but she forced herself to scramble forward several feet before flipping onto her back.
She was just in time to see Dominic grab the man’s arm, twist it behind his back, and shove him face first against one of the rectangular counsel tables. The inmate continued to struggle but Dominic effortlessly held him down. “Pete?” he shouted.
“I’ve got him,” the other deputy called, his wheezing breaths clearly audible.
Dominic, on the other hand, seemed barely winded. His head snapped toward her. “Are you all right?” he barked.
Nodding frantically, she scooted back several more feet. His gaze ran over her, quick but thorough, narrowing when it settled on her arm. She looked down and saw several red, angry scratches where the inmate had grabbed her. He turned back to the inmate, who writhed and kicked out.
Bending down, he whispered something in the man’s ear that made him still. The inmate twisted his neck, and shot Mattie a look filled with fear before he disguised it with a sneer and muffled curse.
After cuffing him, Dominic dragged him forward, stopping several feet from her. “Apologize to the lady, Dusty.”
Glancing at the other inmate who was now sprawled facedown on the floor of the holding room, Dusty frowned and shrugged. “I’m not saying nothing—” He winced when Dominic grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.
“Apologize,” he gritted.
“Really,” Mattie said. “It’s okay.” Just get him out of here, she thought. What are you waiting for?
Both men ignored her.
“Now, Dusty. Or I can guarantee your trip back to jail isn’t going to be as pleasant as the one that got you here.” By the sound of Dominic’s voice, he meant every word he said. The inmate wasn’t willing to take his chances.
“I’m sorry,” Dusty muttered.
“Ma’am. Call her ma’am.”
The inmate swallowed audibly. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Mattie!”
Mattie glanced behind her. Brenda paused in the doorway as if she was too scared to come closer. The brightness of her neon-purple top and frosted pink lipstick seemed almost absurd given the situation.
Dominic propelled Dusty into the holding room, then reached for the door. “I need to secure these prisoners, but I’m calling backup. Brenda, please stay with Mattie.” He looked back at her. “I’ll be back in a second to speak with you and take care of those scratches.”
“But I don’t need—”
“It’s standard procedure.” He moved to close the door, then hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She stared at him, knowing something about him had changed but not sure what. “I’m okay.”
Slowly, she got to her feet and backed up several steps toward Brenda.
With one last lingering look, Dominic shut the door. But not before she registered what was different. Before, he’d always looked calm. Controlled. The annoyance he’d shown before Dusty’s appearance had been unusual enough. But just now… Lord, just now he’d looked primitive. Charged. Turned on. Not sexually, but by adrenaline.
It was a look she’d seen before. Ten years ago, whenever he’d talked about joining the police academy and working the streets, fighting crime like some comic-book superhero.
It was a look that made Mattie’s stomach clench with both desire and dread.
Chapter 5
Picturing Mattie’s stunned, pale face and the abrasions on her arm left his heart beating like a jackhammer. Dom shoved Dusty Monroe into a metal chair bolted to the floor of the holding room and shackled him to it. He then whirled on Pete, who was breathing heavily and sweating. Another deputy, who’d obviously responded to Pete’s call for backup, nodded at Dom as he dragged the other inmate out of the room and slammed the door to the transport bay.
“What the—” Closing his eyes, Dom sucked in a deep breath and reminded himself they weren’t alone. With a quick glance at Dusty, who averted his gaze, Dom motioned for Pete to join him in the corner of the room.
“What happened?”
The wash of emotions over Pete’s face was unmistakable. First, he looked stunned. Then confused. Then belligerent. The other man, shorter than Dom by six inches but heavier by at least fifty pounds, mentally pulled up his pants while sticking out his chest. “Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot, Jeffries. I’ve been securing this courthouse for over five years now. I don’t need some burned-out blue boy coming in here and copping an attitude with me.”
Narrowing his eyes, Dom didn’t bother sticking his chest out. Lowering his head, he got in Pete’s face. “You lost control of a prisoner who broke into my courtroom and accosted a woman. I’m not going to ask you again. What happened?”
Pete swallowed, then seemed to deflate before Dom’s eyes. “The other one said he had to use the bathroom,” he grumbled.
Dom felt his brows pop into his hairline. “They were shackled together, Pete. Why didn’t you wait for me before you unhooked their waist belts? That’s procedure.”
Pete’s response was an almost juvenile shrug. “They were low-level security. We were already running late and Johnson’s case was first on the calendar. He hadn’t gotten to talk to his attorney yet. I figured it would speed things up if I unhooked them myself.”
Or maybe it would get him brownie points with the wealthy man and his powerful attorney? When Dom remained silent, his disgust obvious, Pete spat, “I know, I know. It was stupid. But Johnson’s attorney’s a big shot and I figured he’d file a complaint or something. How was I supposed to know that one would run?” He shot a glare at Dusty.
“Did Johnson suggest you unhook him?”
The way Pete pressed his lips together told Dom all he needed to know.
“It was probably a setup from the beginning,” Dom gritted. “They might have even delayed things at the jail themselves. Did you sweep the holding room before you brought them in? Do you know—”
“Look,” Pete interrupted. “I don’t answer to you, Detective. I need to get this prisoner back to the jail and get some paperwork filled out.”
Staring at the man who’d been more than civil to him in the past, Dom took a step
back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to interview Dusty, but I need to check on the woman he attacked first. Watch him. When I get back, I’ll call the jail when he’s ready to be transported.”
Shaking his head, Pete sputtered. “He’s not going forward with the calendar, so he’s going back.”
Knowing he’d perfected it, Dom let a slow, menacing smile spread across his face. “Don’t test me, Pete. He’s staying so I can talk to him. You got a problem with that, you can take it up with your supervisor. Seems to me, though, that you have other things to worry about.”
They stared at each other, neither one of them blinking. As Dom watched, Pete’s face flushed a deep red, and the vein in his temple started to throb. “Fine.”
Dom held his gaze for a few seconds longer, then turned to Dusty. “Try something again and you’ll regret it, we clear?” Although the inmate didn’t speak, Dom saw his agreement in his eyes. With a muttered curse, he called for backup, not caring how that would look to Pete. When another deputy arrived, Dom snapped, “Keep this inmate cuffed and contained until I get back.”
Then Dom went in search of Mattie.
It didn’t take him long to find her. She was in the staff break room, facing the sink with the water running, her back to him. He took a few seconds to regain his composure, but when he noticed her trembling, he immediately wanted to go back and pound Dusty into the ground. Instead, he stepped forward with a soft, “Let me take a look at your arm.”
Gasping, she whirled around, her forearm dripping. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. When she spoke, her teeth were chattering, “I’m fine. I—I told you, I don’t need—”
Moving slow so he wouldn’t scare her even more, he reached around her to turn off the water. He gently lifted her arm to inspect it and asked, “Why are you in here alone?” to distract her.
“I told them I was fine and to stop hovering. Court should be starting soon.”
“Hmm.” Gently, he smoothed his fingers over the red welts on her arm, noting that one mark had drawn blood and several bruises were also starting to form. She was right. She seemed fine, but Dusty was a druggie and a transient. Who knew what he was carrying.
