But Sharon must have sensed her anxiety; she put a comforting hand on her back.
“No? Well, then you can thank me in person,” the stranger said.
“Who are you?” Brianne didn’t know if she was dealing with a benign secret admirer or a stalker. Despite her best efforts, trembling turned to shaking, and she eyed the flowers she’d once found lovely with anxious confusion.
“Hang up, Brianne.” At the sound of Jake’s voice, she whipped around, surprised he’d come to find her here, but not really surprised he’d be around when she needed him.
She didn’t question his right to give orders; she just slammed the phone into the cradle and took a step back, away from the floral bouquet.
“Can we have a few minutes alone?” Jake asked.
Brianne glanced at Sharon, who was staring back and forth between Brianne and Jake, obviously unsure of what to make of the situation. Brianne didn’t know what to make of it, either.
“It’s okay. I need to talk to him,” she told her friend.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” Sharon said, a curious yet in-awe expression on her face when she looked at Jake. “If you need anything, I’ll be out front.”
“Thanks.” Brianne glanced at her watch, and though her breathing came in shallow gasps, she somehow managed to go through her schedule in her mind. “Sharon, could you please take my nine-thirty? I’ll owe you, I promise.”
“Not a problem. You can repay me with information.” After another lingering glance at Jake, Sharon walked out of the lounge, leaving the two of them alone.
Jake stood in front of her and squeezed her trembling hands in his. “What happened?” He put an arm around her waist and led her to an old plaid couch.
She’d worked here for so long, yet the couch predated her. It was worn and familiar and gave her a steadying calm she desperately needed. She forced herself to recount her morning, something that helped to calm her nerves. “I got paged on my beeper early.”
“And I didn’t hear it because…?”
“I was in the kitchen getting a glass of juice and you were still fast asleep. My bag with the pager was still in the living room.” And she didn’t have to tell him why her purse had never made it into her bedroom last night. The darkening in his gaze told her he remembered everything about last night as vividly as she did.
“Okay, so you were paged. Then what?”
“Is this what they call the third degree, Detective?” she asked lightly. She appreciated not just his concern but his very presence. Sexy razor stubble covered his cheeks, his hair looked as though he’d just tumbled out of bed and he was completely focused on her. He was her fantasy come to life—if the circumstances weren’t so unnerving, Brianne thought. At the reminder of that phone call, she shivered and sought to divert her thoughts.
He brushed her hair back from her face, calming her. “This is what they call concern. Now quit stalling and go on.”
Brianne had never underestimated his talent or ability as a law enforcement officer, and she saw now that she’d been right. The man was determined, and anyone who needed him would not be let down, but Brianne had no desire to fall into the needy category.
She’d been on her own and strong for too long to let one phone call turn her into a basket case. “I recognized the extension and called the hospital to see what they wanted.”
“Is it unusual for you to be paged so early in the morning?”
She nodded. “Unusual but not unheard of. It wasn’t the Rehab desk, either, so I knew it had to be important. I called back, no one answered, and I figured it was a real emergency. I found out I was right.”
She told him about her elderly patient, and he listened with intense interest. “I told her stories about Marc and why I became a physical therapist to calm and distract her.”
“Not exactly in your job description.” Warm admiration filled his gaze.
She shrugged self-consciously. “What can I say? I’m a born nurturer.”
That she was, Jake thought. And he wouldn’t mind being the recipient of that caring. But with Ramirez closing in, Jake doubted the fates had that in store.
But hearing her talk about her relationship with her patients, a smile tilted his lips. “I think those are stories I’d like to hear myself one day.” A day when Brianne wasn’t in danger…and if she was speaking to him again by then.
“I have to warn you, my stories put Mrs. Cohen to sleep. Though the sedative might have had something to do with that.” She managed a laugh but sobered quickly, obviously remembering why she was relaying the story to him.
“I come from sturdier stock than your last patient. I’m sure I’ll manage to stay awake.” From his experience questioning witnesses and from his innate understanding of crime victims, he realized that if he let her continue on a tangent, she would. It was normal to want to focus on everything but the danger she was in.
He would have loved to let her push aside her fears, but he needed her information too badly. He squeezed her hand. “Go on.”
She sighed. “Well, after the sedative kicked in and she fell back to sleep, I called Marc. Then I came in here for coffee. Sharon brought me the flowers that were left at the desk. I thought the flowers were from you.”
“They were poppies,” he said.
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Really? I had no idea. I’m a city girl, remember? I wouldn’t know one flower from the next.”
“Normally I wouldn’t, either.” But poppies were associated with narcotics, something any cop would know. The flowers themselves weren’t used to make drugs but the sap of an unripe seedpod was the source of heroin, opium, morphine, codeine and more. The flowers had been Ramirez’s calling card, something the slime knew Jake would recognize.
Brianne stared at him curiously. “Even a Neanderthal would know roses, but you recognize poppies? I’d never have guessed. The only thing I know about poppies is from The Wizard of Oz and the deadly poppy field…”
Her eyes opened wide, and Jake knew the minute she put two and two together, even before she verbalized her thoughts.
“You got shot trying to arrest a drug dealer. I saw you in the hospital yesterday on the same floor as the patient who overdosed.”
He inclined his head. Jake hadn’t realized she’d seen him yesterday. He let out a groan. He should have known better than to think he’d gotten off easy. With Brianne, nothing was simple.
“Today’s delivery of flowers wasn’t a coincidence, was it?” she asked, dread showing in her face.
Even though her voice was strong, her cheeks had drained of color. His gut twisted tight. He only hoped she’d continue to hold it together when he revealed the rest, but given her history of anxiety and well-founded fear, he was concerned.
He hated causing her pain and drew a deep breath for courage. “It’s no coincidence,” he agreed. “And we’re talking about the same dealer that shot me.”
A visible shudder rippled through her. “And this involves me how?”
She narrowed her eyes, and Jake knew this was it, the time to level. No backpedaling, no ducking out. It was also, he realized, the defining moment in their relationship.
He took her hand in his and looked her in the eye. “You’re being targeted by a drug dealer named Louis Ramirez, probably because he’s figured out what you mean to me and sees you as a way to get to me.” His growing feelings for Brianne had caused exactly what he’d wanted to avoid from the beginning—she’d become a valuable commodity to his enemy.
If anything happened to Brianne, it would kill Jake. Ramirez obviously knew enough to play a cat-and-mouse game—a game Jake didn’t appreciate. From the shocked, then angry look on Brianne’s face, neither did she.
“I’m in danger because of you?”
He heard the betrayal in her voice, and it struck him like a blow. He nodded. “Indirectly, yes. It looks that way.” Technically she was in danger because she’d accepted his sister’s offer and moved into the pent
house. But he wouldn’t upset her further by clarifying the situation.
From the moment Jake had heard of his sister’s meddlesome plan, he’d been filled with dread. He’d just never envisioned Brianne being hurt in any way. If he had, he’d have thrown her out that first day, despite her having accepted Rina’s job in good faith. No matter how much she’d tempted him. Jake glanced down at their intertwined hands and felt as if he was viewing his last link to the woman he cared so much about.
“This Ramirez. He has an accent?” she asked through clenched teeth.
Once again, Jake nodded.
“He…He said on the phone that I could thank him for the flowers in person.” She yanked her hand free, and Jake felt a loss that went far deeper than the end of physical contact. “How did he know where to find me?”
“He’s been watching you.” He let his guilty gaze dart away from hers. “For a while now.”
“The guy outside the coffee shop?”
“Yes.”
She began to clench and unclench her fists, the only outward signs of the anger and betrayal he felt sure were simmering inside her.
“What makes you so sure it’s the same guy?”
As a cop, he appreciated her deadly accurate questioning, but as the man who’d violated her trust, he wished she wasn’t so quick to put the puzzle together. “The tattoo, for one thing. He’s also been seen around the streets outside the hospital.”
“Seen by whom?” Brianne asked. But as she spoke, she began to question more than Ramirez’s hidden agenda. She began to question Jake’s.
He was certain of too much to be coming into this situation fresh. Since awakening this morning, emotion and confusion had been her constant companions—her stomach rolled, her head ached. And she had a hunch things weren’t about to change anytime soon.
He inhaled deeply. “That’s where things get complicated.” He ran a hand through his hair and stood, then began pacing the floor in front of the couch. “Back when you mentioned you thought you were being followed, I got suspicious.”
“But you didn’t let on. In fact, you lied.” The hurt and the anger she’d been holding back rose to the surface.
“Yes. No.” He shook his head in frustration. “I protected you. You’d just gotten through telling me you had a well-founded history of anxiety. You equated me to your parents and admitted that when I entered your life, history of danger and all, I’d probably caused all those fears to resurface. I couldn’t bring myself to validate your feelings and upset you, or somehow set you off again.”
“It’s not like I’m some mental patient that needed sheltering! I asked for your professional advice. I didn’t ask you to cushion me from the truth.” She rose. “I thought I was being followed. I may not have liked it, but I could have dealt with it. I’ve dealt with a hell of a lot worse.”
“That’s bull.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and met her gaze. “You’ve dealt with tragedy and come through stronger than you were before. But unless you’ve dealt with a psychotic like Ramirez, one who’d kill you as easily as he’d blink, you haven’t dealt with worse. Not even close.”
At his words, she jerked back, the truth striking her in the heart.
“I’m sorry to scare you, but I’m not sorry for laying out the facts.”
“A little late, but you’re right.” She straightened her shoulders and found the inner strength she knew she possessed. “I haven’t been through worse. This ‘psychotic’ has been following me. Didn’t I deserve the chance to protect myself?” She pinned him with her glare. She wasn’t about to let him off the hook for keeping such a serious secret from her.
He cleared his throat. “I made sure you were protected.”
“Not very well if those flowers got through,” she muttered.
“Hospital flowers are delivered all the time.” He held his hands up in front of him in supplication. “But I’m not here to argue with you, okay?”
But she’d obviously hurt him, because a flash of pain crossed his handsome face. Still, she couldn’t afford to feel sorry for him, not when she had a cop killer sending her flowers and calling her at work. A chill rippled along her spine. “Protected me how? And don’t leave anything out.”
“There wouldn’t be any point to that now.”
“But I don’t know that for sure, do I? I don’t see why you held out on me to begin with.” She folded her arms across her chest, more to prevent the shaking than as a defense mechanism.
“I’ve had a detective following you,” he told her. “And when he wasn’t with you, I was.”
His words shouldn’t have shocked her but they did. She braced her folded hands lower, around her stomach, a way of offering herself comfort, although she found none. A small part of her wondered if Jake’s recent interest had more to do with keeping her in his apartment than keeping her in his bed.
He’d been deep inside her body, and they’d made love many times, and so her heart rebelled against the idea. Her mind insisted he’d been drawn to her long before she’d moved into the penthouse and before she’d become a target. But her wounded pride and sense of betrayal still made her question his motives. She didn’t want to believe he’d lie, not even in the name of protection.
And she didn’t want him to see her as weak. “Okay, so now what, Detective?”
This time he flinched at her formal tone. “This isn’t official business for me, Brianne.”
“No, you’re on leave. But you just can’t seem to stay away from the danger. And this time your need for that adrenaline rush brought that danger right to my doorstep.”
“Our doorstep, or have you forgotten you moved in with me?” he asked through clenched teeth.
He was right. She was blaming him for things that were out of his control. She let out a slow breath. “Okay, so how close are the police to wrapping things up and getting this guy behind bars? Before he gets me, I mean.”
Once again he avoided her eyes. “Not very,” he admitted, and went on to explain the case as it related to the drug overdose patient in Emergency, including The Eclectic Eatery’s probable connection and Jake’s inability to score drugs there. “But we haven’t been able to link the overdose to the restaurant or Ramirez.”
“Great. So I’m a walking target.” The shaking returned along with the unsteady intakes of air until she felt light-headed and dizzy.
He must have sensed her distress because he placed a hand on her arm, but she shrugged off his touch and lowered herself onto the couch. During the course of her personal anxiety therapy, she’d learned intensive breathing that enabled her to create a calm, safe center deep within herself. She ignored Jake and concentrated on steady breathing until the room stopped spinning and she could focus once more.
She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his blue eyes deep with concern. “Nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m around. And I’m not leaving your side.”
“Just what I wanted, a bodyguard,” she said wryly. Especially one who’d slept with her so he would know where she was at night, Brianne thought.
He moved to her side. His masculine scent was overpowering, seducing her with memories of last night. “You know I don’t find guarding your body a hardship.”
“So you like sex. That hardly makes me feel better right now.” But she was lying. Just knowing she had Jake by her side did make her feel much better. More confusion, she thought.
“I’m going to ignore that.”
But she didn’t miss the hurt in his tone. She knew she was being unreasonably cold toward him, but she couldn’t discount the fact that he’d let her wander the streets of New York, unaware that she was being followed by both a drug dealer and a detective he’d hired. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
His concerned gaze roamed over her. “You need to be careful, okay? Don’t go to the cafeteria or the supply closet or even the bathroom alone. Don’t walk anywhere by yourself, do you understand? I’ll bring David inside to meet you.
He’s your bodyguard during the day. He’s smart and he’s good. What I’m saying is follow the rules and you won’t get hurt.”
She hugged herself. “And where will you be?”
“Getting Ramirez before he gets you.” He turned away.
“Jake, wait.” She grabbed on to his arm and held on fast. She didn’t want him putting himself in danger at all, but especially not for her.
Because she loved him. Oh God.
Love. She should have seen it coming and hadn’t. All she’d viewed was mountains of questions and hills of confusion. That hadn’t changed. She hadn’t a clue how she felt about loving this man who loved danger. She only felt an overwhelming need to protect him from himself.
He pivoted back to her. “What is it?”
“How? How are you going to get him?” she asked, her voice urgent.
“He wants me and he’s obviously using you to get to me. If I can’t get him for dealing, I’ll get him for attempted murder.”
Her heart skipped a beat and fear took hold. “Attempted murder of who? You? Who is that going to help?” Brianne asked. Because if anything happened to Jake, it wouldn’t help her. But it just might kill her.
“Attempted, sweetheart. He’s not going to hurt me, but he is going away. I want him behind bars where he belongs.”
She didn’t miss the fiery determination in his gaze or the absolute certainty in his voice. He’d get Ramirez and he didn’t care how. Brianne realized she was looking at Jake Lowell, the detective, and the thought of him putting himself on the line scared her more than being in danger herself.
She wanted to believe it was old habits returning. That she was experiencing the same fear she’d felt each time her parents walked out the door on a risky adventure, because she didn’t know if they’d come home to her. But in her heart she now knew this was different. Jake was different and so were her emotions and the feelings she had invested in him. She wasn’t experiencing a recurrence of old anxieties now. She was scared of losing Jake.
She squeezed his arm tighter. “You can’t make yourself a target. Jake, please. Promise me you won’t do that.”
Body Heat Page 17
