by Julie Miller
“What does that mean?”
“Earlier this year, I was brought up on suspicion of sexual harassment at work.”
“You?”
A charmer like him, huh? Go figure. “A woman I used to date, an attorney—she reported me to Internal Affairs—said I’d forced her into a relationship in order to exchange information about a perp she was defending.”
“Did you? Force her, I mean?”
He looked Beth dead in the eye, any impulse to laugh wisely eradicated. “Sheila was the one using me. Figured I was an easy way into the department because I don’t…”
“Date a lot?”
Yeah. He should have been a smarter detective when Sheila Mercer had first come on to him during the Pekoe investigation. “When I found out she was using pillow talk to promote her case and get her client off, I called her on it.”
“And she retaliated by accusing you of harassment.”
“It put a mark on my record. Cost me the trust and respect of some of the men and women I serve with.”
It looked like he’d successfully wiped away any lingering urge for Beth to keep smiling at him. “Your job is important to you, isn’t it?”
“It’s everything.” It was the one place where looks and charm—or lack thereof—didn’t get in the way of succeeding. “So when I tell you I want to know the facts, I’m not making polite conversation.”
“And when you come to my rescue time and again? Is that just part of your job, too?”
Sliding to the edge of the seat, Kevin stood up and grabbed his coat. Touchy-feely time was over. He’d better go back to thinking like a cop around Beth Rogers before things became any more personal and he got himself well and truly screwed again. “Pay the bill. I’ll walk you to your car and follow you home.”
An hour later, Kevin had completed his walk-through of Beth’s house. There were touches of color and personalization here and there as she gradually transformed a beige and blah house into a home of her own. But despite the cleanliness, modern conveniences and homey touches, there was still something about the place that didn’t seem quite right.
Beth must have picked up on his suspicions as soon as he joined her in the living room. She hugged her arms around her waist and tilted her chin. “You’re brooding again. Is something wrong?”
He wouldn’t speculate when he couldn’t say exactly what it was about the house that didn’t fit. “I see you put your computer back together in your office.”
“I haven’t had time to clean up everything in there. But I needed to send an e-mail.”
He nodded his head toward the dining area and the boarded-up French doors there. “Can’t say I’m thrilled that you haven’t gotten those replaced yet.”
“I really can’t do anything until the weekend,” she explained. “Unless I hire someone to do it while I’m at work. And I’m not really keen on having another stranger in my house.”
“I don’t blame you.” Kevin nodded and crossed through the dining room to check the security of the two-by-fours and plastic tarp again. “Maybe I can get over here tomorrow after work.” He inspected what was left of the hinges beneath the tarp. “I’ve got some lumber in my garage left over from redoing the upstairs bath. I could—”
“No.” He jumped at the touch of her hand on his arm, then covered the startle by immediately circling around the oak table and heading for the front door. “You’ve done enough already. I won’t ask you to play carpenter for me, too.”
“You didn’t ask. I volunteered.” He unlocked the dead bolt and paused with his hand on the door knob. “Get that door fixed tomorrow night or I’ll be over here to do it for you.”
“You’re being bossy again.”
“You’re being stubborn.” He normally wasn’t the type to lose two nights of sleep in a row over any woman. But he suspected he’d be up at his window, watching over her as long as he thought there was any chance someone could get to her and harm her again. “If you want, I can leave Daisy out in her dog house tonight. She’ll raise a ruckus if anyone’s prowling around the back of your house.”
“Are you kidding? Keep her inside where it’s warm.” He felt her fingers at the back of his collar, turning it up before he went out into the night. “I’ll be safe. I’ve got a cop next door, right?”
Kevin opened the door to a blast of cold air and stepped down onto the first brick step of her porch before he turned, blocking the storm door open with his shoulder and bracing a hand against the jamb. “Lock that behind me. Don’t open it for anybody you don’t know. Call me if anything—”
“—bothers me. I know.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off that soft, peachy smile. “Bossy enough for you?”
“I’m beginning to think that bossy means you care.” The wind had already pinked her undamaged cheek when she unwound her arms and braced a hand against his chest. “Thanks, Kev.” And then she was stretching onto her toes, moving closer—pressing the gentlest of kisses to the grizzled angle of his jaw. “For everything.”
She sank back onto her heels, but the hand stayed. His blood pumped faster, rushing to warm the spot where she touched him. Their eyes locked. Breaths mingled. Kevin breathed in vanilla and spice and pure temptation, and couldn’t find the strength to retreat one inch as she leaned in a second time and brushed her lips across his.
Don’t do this. A voice inside his head tried to argue with his feverish pulse. Move.
But he couldn’t hear the voice over the pent-up desire whooshing inside his ears. Her other hand found its way beneath the collar of his coat. Beth was holding on to him, tugging at him. He took her weight as she pulled herself up and kissed him again. More firmly this time, pulling his bottom lip between hers, stroking it with the tip of her tongue.
Kevin watched her long sable lashes drift against her cheeks as Beth closed her eyes and stretched up another half inch to firmly suckle that bottom lip. The shyly decadent movement shot a bullet of want straight down to his groin. Well, hell. The need, the want, the loneliness too long denied shuddered through him and Kevin could no longer walk away nor resist. With his hands gripping the doorframe on either side of her, he parted his lips, quickly changing her tentative exploration into his own bold claim.
Beth had to curl her fingers into his lapels and hold on as he drove his lips against hers and thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Kevin pushed her back half a step with the force of his kiss, feeling a little off balance himself when he heard the moan in her throat and felt her tongue slide against his. The wind chill outside had plummeted into negative degrees, but Kevin was feeling nothing but heat. He tasted the coffee on her tongue, the scorching sweetness of her lips, the generosity of her response. And he wanted more.
There was nothing suave about his kiss. Nothing patient or tender or any other damn dumb thing but fire and passion and feeling like a man again. And hang it all, but freckle-faced Beth Rogers was winding her hands up behind his neck and holding on to join him in the conflagration.
Stop. The voice in his head tried to warn him away even as he shucked a glove and threaded his fingers into the velvety soft hair at her nape. He wanted to pull her against his body, feel her curves melting into all the hard places that craved an honest, passionate touch. You’re taking advantage of her. The woman’s just too nice to tell you to take a hike.
That cruel self-doubt, ingrained long before Sheila Mercer and a harassment suit made him wonder if there’d ever be a woman in his life beyond friends and one-night stands and an eighty-two-year-old grandmother who loved him unconditionally, finally got him to wake up and wise up and stop acting with his zipper instead of his brain. Beth Rogers needed something from him, but it wasn’t this.
Reaching up, Kevin grasped Beth’s wrists and pulled them from his neck. With a mighty burst of self-preserving control, he tore his mouth from hers and set her firmly away from him.
A blessed rush of freezing air whipped around him, cooling the fire in his blood and frosting each hea
ted breath that filled the space between them. With the dim light from the porch lamp to illuminate her pale face, her eyes narrowed, questioned him. Her lips were swollen and sexy and pursed to do verbal battle with him again. But there was no way he was arguing this time. He scooped up his glove from the snow-dusted bricks and yanked it on. “You already said thank you. I’m not asking you to do anything more.”
“You think that was…?” She huffed in disgust and grabbed his coat, stopping him from turning away. “What if I wanted to kiss you?”
He had to blame that raspy catch in her voice on the cold. “You expect me to believe that you’re turned on by me?”
“There’s more to admire about a man than his face.”
He disengaged her hands a second time. “So you admit I’m an ugly SOB.”
“I didn’t say—”
“I’m built like a freight train and I carry a gun. That’s got to make you feel safer than you did before you met me. I get that.”
“I’m attracted to you, Kevin. Maybe you’re not like any man I’ve dated before, but I’m not trying to buy your protection with a kiss.” She gave him a little shake before pulling away and hugging her arms around her waist again. “I wouldn’t complain if you decided you were attracted to me, too, and wanted to do something about it.”
“Funny.” He stepped off the porch, not feeling one whit like laughing. “That’s what Sheila said to me. Lock the damn door. Good night.”
Chapter Six
“I thought you said you’d handled it!” He stormed into the meeting room, tossing his coat and gloves on the back of a chair and heading straight for the liquor cabinet.
The big man rose from his chair, looking uncharacteristically startled by the accusation. “I did. I got the disk back from that woman. And I shredded the document, just like you ordered.”
He poured himself two fingers of bourbon, swallowed it down and poured himself another before he turned to glare at the old man sitting at the opposite end of the table. “Apparently, another copy of your conscience is still out there somewhere. Did anyone else get a special delivery this evening?”
“Yes.” The big man pulled a matching envelope from his pocket.
The woman tossed hers onto the table. “No handwriting, no return address, no idea who’s behind this.”
Surprisingly enough, the old man pulled out a letter, as well. “We all got them. I don’t understand. It isn’t supposed to happen this way.”
The woman’s sarcasm was cutting. “Did you have some other plan in mind for bilking us out of millions of dollars?”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t send these. Profiting from our mistakes was never part of my plan.”
“Yet someone is profiting from our work.” The man in charge polished off his second glass before facing the group again. The fire in his belly matched the sense of betrayal that burned through him. He unbuttoned his collar and loosened his tie before taking his place at the head of the table.
He waited for the others to sit, eyeing each of them around the table, trying to assess which one of them was lying to him. The old man was the obvious choice, but he looked drawn and devastated and frankly incapable of playing such a tough game. The big man? He’d have the guts to do it, but even if his allegiance had shifted, he’d be surprised if his enforcer had the forethought to pull it off. The woman? Now she’d have the brains to conceive of such a plan—turning an information leak that could ruin them all into an opportunity to make herself a tidy fortune. Although he’d been certain he’d bought her loyalty in the bedroom. Besides, she had plenty of other weapons in her arsenal to get what she wanted which were more effective and less crass than a blackmail letter.
Time to get the facts and put a stop to all this posturing nonsense. “Is there anyone outside this room who knows about the clinical trial results and the cover-up solution I authorized?”
The old man nodded. “Dr. Allen in the lab suspects something. Although when I met with him, he didn’t show me any proof—he merely raised concerns about moving Gehirn 330 into production so quickly.” He paused until he had everyone’s attention. “I have a solution. If we go public with this—”
“Absolutely not!” the woman snapped.
“If we go public,” he repeated more slowly, “then that takes the leverage away from our blackmailer. Yes, there’d be legal consequences for us to face, fines to pay—”
The big man shot to his feet. “Some of us would have to face a lot more than a fine. If it comes down to it, I won’t be the only one going to prison, I promise you.”
The man at the head of the table pounded his glass like a gavel. He didn’t appreciate being included in his hireling’s threat. “No one’s going to jail. No one’s paying a fine—or blackmail. And no one’s taking my business from me.”
“Our business, don’t you mean?” The old man had the guts to challenge him after all. “I think we can confess our sins and still salvage the company. The work we’ve done over the years far outweighs this mistake.”
He shook his head. “Running a ‘salvaged’ company isn’t exactly how I planned to go into retirement.” He opened the drawer to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a set of keys to unlock the doors below. He pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to the big man to open and examine the photographs and transcriptions inside. “Pass them around. I think you’ll all find them very interesting.”
Impatient to see the information, the woman stood and reached across the table to snatch one of the printouts. She frowned. “This shows repeated attempts to access our company server and hack into encrypted files.” She handed the information to the old man. “Is there any way to know if the user was successful?”
“You got a blackmail letter, didn’t you?” the big man scoffed. “That could be our info link.”
“No.” The old man stood at the far end of the table, holding a printout and a photograph.
“I picked that up off surveillance last night.”
“How did you get these pictures? You can’t have had a warrant to authorize spying like this.”
When it came to protecting what was his, legalities didn’t matter. “I just followed the trail you laid out for us.”
The old man shook his head, refusing to believe what was right in front of his eyes. “She knows nothing about this. If she did, she wouldn’t be blackmailing me.”
The evidence wasn’t conclusive, but the story it told made a hell of a lot of sense. “Are you sure any woman can be that loyal to you?”
The old man’s eyes met the woman’s gaze. Now there was an example of loyalty gone sideways. If he’d been in a better mood, he’d have laughed to see how the old man wilted back into his chair.
The old man shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m turning in my resignation at the board meeting tomorrow. I can’t afford the money. My heart can’t afford the stress. If it would ease everyone’s concerns, I’m happy to retire to a country that doesn’t have extradition to the U.S. And I’m happy to keep my mouth shut.”
“You expect us to take your word for that?” The big man paced in front of the windows.
The old man turned to the head of the table. “Once upon a time, my word was good enough for you.”
For a moment, the man in charge was taken back in time, to when they were both young entrepreneurs carving out a rather large niche for themselves in the world. “Once upon a time you wouldn’t have betrayed me, either.”
“You’re the one who’s betrayed us all.”
The old man had had the vision—and the brains to develop many of the patents that made them a success. But he knew how to run a business and how to make money—a lot of money. The old man would still be slaving away in a lab, earning respectable wages. But because he was a good boss, he’d made them both rich.
And a good boss—as he’d learned long ago—knew how to delegate. He looked to each person in the room. “Someone needs to make this problem go away. Find the blackmailer. Retrieve t
he information. Make it stop.” He needed another drink. “And I don’t care how you do it.”
“KEVIN ELIJAH GROVE, what are you doing here?”
Getting firmly grounded back in the reality of my life. “I came to have breakfast with my best girl.”
Kevin quickly covered the distance of the Oak Park Retirement Care Center’s sun porch and leaned down to kiss his grandmother’s papery-thin cheek. Miriam Grove released her walker and hugged a frail arm around her grandson’s neck. Kevin lightly touched his palms to her back. As much as he loved this woman, he couldn’t give her a real hug anymore, fearing that the combination of his strength and her osteoporosis would result in a broken bone if he wasn’t careful.
She, however, had no qualms about sharing the love. Pulling back, she cupped his jaw, clucking her tongue behind her teeth as she inspected his face. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”
He covered her hand with his and smiled. “You know there are days when I have to work long hours.”
“Uh-huh,” she agreed in a dubious tone. “Come, sit with me.” She turned with her walker and slowly made her way to one of the flowered love seats facing each other in the window-lined solarium. “The nurse wanted to bring me a tray in my room. Can you believe it? What’s the point of getting up in the morning if you don’t actually ‘get up’ out of bed?”
“Now, now, Miriam, I thought I was being nice.” A middle-aged African-American woman in a light blue staff uniform entered the room, carrying a tray of scrambled eggs, toast and a can of nutrient supplement. “I only asked because so many of our residents prefer to stay in their warm beds when it’s this cold outside.” She shivered as the windows rattled. “I feel that wind go right through me, even if you don’t. Good morning, Detective Grove.”
“Good morning, Yolanda.” Kevin braced his arm for his grandmother to hold on to while she lowered herself down into the sofa cushions. “Is Miriam being a handful today?”
