Books by Nora Roberts

by Roberts, Nora

  "Is that what you want?"

  "What I want is to be accepted for who and what I am. Not to be tiptoed around like an invalid because I survived rape and abuse."

  He started to snap back at her, then stopped himself. He wasn't thinking of her, he realized, but of his own rage, his own impotence, his own pain. Slowly he walked back to the bed and sat beside her. Her eyes were still wet; he could see them gleaming against the shadows. He slipped his arms around her, gently drew her close until her head rested on his shoulder.

  "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. "Okay?"

  She sighed, settled. "Okay."

  Althea awakened at sunrise with a dull headache. She knew instantly that Colt was no longer beside her. Wearily she rolled onto her back and rubbed her swollen eyes.

  What had she expected? she asked herself. No man would be comfortable around a woman after hearing a story like the one she'd told him. And why in God's name had she dumped out her past that way? How could she have trusted him with pieces of herself that she'd never given anyone before?

  Even Boyd, the person she considered her closest friend, knew only about the foster homes. As for the rest, she'd buried it—until last night.

  She didn't doubt that her tie to Liz had unlocked the door and let the nightmare back in. But she should have been able to handle it, to hold back, to safeguard her privacy. The fact that she hadn't could mean only one thing.

  Indulging in a sigh, Althea pushed herself up and rested her brow on her knees.

  She was in love with Colt. Ridiculous as it was, she had to face the truth. And, just as she'd always suspected, love made you stupid, vulnerable and unhappy.

  There ought to be a pill, she mused. A serum she could take. Like an antidote for snakebite.

  The sound of footsteps had her whipping her head up. Her eyes widened when Colt came to the doorway carrying a tray.

  He had a split second to read her reaction before she closed it off. She'd thought he'd taken a hike, he realized grimly. He was going to have to show the lady that he was sticking, no matter how hard she tried to shake him off.

  "Morning, Lieutenant. I figured you'd planned on a full day."

  "You figured right." Cautious, she watched as he crossed to the bed, waited until he'd set the tray at her feet. "What's the occasion?" she asked, gesturing toward the plates of French toast.

  "I owe you a breakfast. Remember?''

  "Yeah." Her gaze shifted from the plates to his face. Love still made her feel stupid, it still made her feel vulnerable, but it no longer made her unhappy. "You're a regular whiz in the kitchen."

  "We all have our talents." He sat cross-legged on the other side of the tray and dug in. "I figure—" he chewed, swallowed "—after we're married, I can handle the meals, you can handle the laundry."

  She ignored the quick sprint of panic and sampled her first bite. "You ought to see someone about this obsessive fantasy life of yours, Nightshade."

  "My mother's dying to meet you." He grinned when Althea's fork clattered against her plate. "She and Dad send their best."

  "You—" Words failed her.

  "She and my father know Liz. I called to relieve their minds, and I told them about you." Smiling, he brushed her hair back from her shoulders. He hadn't known a woman could look so sexy in a man's undershirt. "She's for a spring wedding—you know, all that June-bride stuff. But I told her I wasn't waiting that long."

  "You're out of your mind."

  "Maybe." His grin faded. "But I'm in yours, Thea. I'm in there real good, and I'm not getting out."

  He was right about that, but it didn't change the bottom line. She was not walking down the aisle and saying 'I do.' That was that.

  "Listen, Colt." Try reason, she thought. "I'm very fond of you, but—"

  "You're what?" His mouth quirked again. "You're what of me?"

  "Fond," she spit out, infuriated by the gleam of good humor in his eyes.

  "Euphemisms." Affectionately he patted her hand, shook his head. "You disappoint me. I had you pegged as a straight shooter."

  Forget reason. "Just shut up and let me eat."

  He obliged her, because it gave him time to think, and to study her. She was still a bit pale, he mused. And her eyes were swollen from the bout of tears during the night. But she wouldn't let herself be fragile. He had to admire her unceasing supply of strength. She didn't want sympathy, he remembered, she wanted understanding. She would just have to learn to accept both from him.

  She'd accepted his comfort the night before. Whether she knew it or not, she'd already come to rely on him. He wasn't about to let her down.

  "How's the coffee?"

  "Good." And because it was, because the meal he'd prepared had already conquered her headache, she relented. "Thanks."

  "My pleasure." He leaned forward, touched his mouth to hers. "I don't suppose I could interest you in an after-breakfast tussle."

  She smiled now, fully, easily. "I'll have to take a rain check." But she spread a hand over his chest and kissed him again. Her fingers closed over his medal. "Why do you wear this?"

  "My grandmother gave it to me. She said that when a man was determined not to settle down in one place, he should have someone looking out for him. It's worked pretty well so far." He set the tray on the floor, then scooped Althea into his arms.

  "Nightshade, I said—"

  "I know, I know." He hitched her up more comfortably. "But I had this idea that if we had that tussle in the shower, we could stay pretty much on schedule."

  She laughed, nipped at his shoulder. "I'm a firm believer in time management."

  She had more than a full day to fit into twenty-four hours. There was a mountain of paperwork waiting for her, and she needed to talk to Boyd about his interrogation of Donner and Kline before she met with them herself. She wanted, for personal, as well as professional, reasons, to interview Liz again.

  She sat down and began efficiently chipping away at the mountain.

  Cilia knocked on the open door. "Excuse me, Lieutenant. Got a minute?"

  "For the captain's wife," she said, smiling and gesturing Cilia inside, "I've got a minute and a half. What are you doing down here?"

  "Boyd filled me in." Cilia leaned down, peered close and, as a woman would, saw through the meticulously applied cosmetics to the signs of a difficult night. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine. I have decided that anyone who camps out on purpose needs immediate psychiatric help, but it was an experience."

  "You should try it with three kids."

  "No," Althea said definitely. "No, I shouldn't."

  With a laugh, Cilia rested a hip against the edge of the desk. "I'm so glad you and Colt found the girl. How's she doing?"

  "It'll be rough for a while, but she'll come through."

  "Those creeps should be—" Cilia's eyes flashed, but she cut herself off. "I didn't come here to talk cop, I came to talk turkey."

  "Oh?"

  "As in Thanksgiving. Don't give me that look." Cilia angled her chin, readying for battle. "Every year you've got some excuse for not coming to Thanksgiving dinner, and this time I'm not buying it."

  "Cilia, you know I appreciate the offer."

  "The hell with that. You're family. We want you." Even as Althea was shaking her head, Cilia was plowing on. "Deb and Gage are coming. You haven't seen them in a year."

  Althea thought of Cilia's younger sister, Deborah, and her husband. She would like to see Deb again. They'd gotten close while Deborah was in Denver finishing up college. And Gage Guthrie. Althea pursed her lips as she thought of him. She genuinely liked Deborah's husband, and a blind man could have seen that he adored his wife. But there was something about him—something Althea couldn't put her finger on. Not a bad thing, she thought now, not a worrying thing. But something.

  "Taking a side trip?" Cilia asked.

  "Sorry." Althea snapped back and fiddled with the papers on her desk. "You know I'd love to see them again, Cilia, but—"

&nbs
p; "They're bringing Adrianna." Cilia's secret weapon was her sister's baby girl, whom Althea had seen only in snapshots and videotapes. "You and I both know what a sucker you are for babies."

  "You want to keep that down?" Althea stated with an uneasy glance toward the bull pen. "I've got a reputation to uphold around here." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "You know I want to see them, all of them. And since I'm sure they'll be here through the holiday weekend, I will. We'll shoot for Saturday."

  "Thanksgiving dinner." Cilia dusted her hands together as she straightened. "You're coming this year, if I have to tell Boyd to make it an order. I'm having my family. My whole family."

  "Cilia—"

  "That's it." Cilia folded her arms. "I'm taking this to the captain."

  "You're in luck," Boyd said as he came to the door. "The captain happens to be available. And he's brought you a present." He stepped aside.

  "Natalie!" With a whoop of pleasure, Cilia threw her arms around her sister-in-law and squeezed. "I thought you were in New York."

  "I was." Natalie's dark green eyes sparkled with laughter as she drew Cilia back to kiss her. "I had to fly in for a few days, and I figured I'd make this my first stop. I didn't know I'd hit the jackpot. You look great."

  "You look phenomenal, as always." It was perfectly true. The tall, willow-slim woman with the sleek blond hair and the conservatively cut suit would always turn heads. "The kids are going to be thrilled."

  "I can't wait to get my hands on them." She turned, held out both hands. "Thea. I can't believe I'm lucky enough to get all three of you at once."

  "It's really good to see you." With their hands still linked, Althea pressed her cheek to Natalie's. In the years Althea had been Boyd's partner, she and his younger sister had become fast friends. "How are your parents?"

  "Terrific. They send love to everyone." In an old habit, she glanced around Althea's office, let out a sigh. "Thea, can't you at least get a space with a window?"

  "I like this one. Less distractions."

  "I'm calling Maria as soon as I get to the station," Cilia announced. "She'll whip up something special for tonight. You're coming, Thea."

  "Wouldn't miss it."

  "What is this?" Colt demanded as he tried to squeeze into the room. "A conference? Thea, you're going to have to get a bigger—" He broke off, stared. "Nat?"

  Her stunned expression mirrored his. "Colt?"

  His grin split his face. "Son of a gun." He elbowed past Boyd to grab Natalie in a hug that lifted her feet from the floor. "I'll be damned. Pretty Natalie. What's it been? Six years?"

  "Seven." She kissed him full on the mouth. "We ran into each other in San Francisco."

  "At the Giants game, right. You look better than ever."

  "I am better than ever. Why don't we have a drink later, and catch up?"

  "Now, that's…" He fumbled to a halt when he glanced at Althea. She was sitting on the edge of her desk, watching their reunion with an expression of mild curiosity and polite interest. When he realized his arm was still around Natalie's waist, he dropped it quickly to his side. "Actually, I, ah…"

  How was a man supposed to talk to an old female friend when the woman he loved was studying him as if he were something smeared on a glass slide?

  Natalie caught the look that passed between Althea and Colt. Surprise came first, then a chuckle she disguised by clearing her throat. Well, well, she thought, what an interesting stew she'd dropped into. She couldn't resist stirring the pot.

  "Colt and I go way back," she said to Althea. "I had a terrible crush on him when I was a teenager." She smiled wickedly up at Colt. "I've been waiting for years for him to take advantage of it."

  "Really?" Althea tapped a finger to her lips. "He doesn't strike me as being slow off the mark. A little dense, maybe, but not slow."

  "You're right about that. Cute, too, isn't he?" She winked at Althea.

  "In an overt sort of way," Althea agreed, enjoying Colt's discomfort. "Why don't you and I have that drink later, Natalie? It sounds as though you and I have quite a bit to chat about."

  "It certainly does."

  "I don't think this is the place to set up social engagements." Well aware that he was outnumbered and outgunned, Colt stuck his hands into his pockets. "Althea looks busy."

  "Oh, I've got a minute or two. What are you doing in town, Natalie?"'

  "Business. Always nice when you can mix it with pleasure. I have an emergency meeting in an hour with the board of directors on one of Boyd's and my downtown units. Owning real estate is a full-time job. Without proper management, it can be a huge headache," she explained.

  "You don't happen to own one on Second Avenue, do you?" Althea asked.

  "Mmm, no. Is one up for sale?" A gleam came into her eyes, and then she laughed. "It's a weakness," she explained. "There's something about owning property, even with all the problems that come with it."

  "What's the trouble now?" Boyd asked, trying to work up some interest.

  "The manager decided to up all the rents and keep the difference." Natalie said, her eyes hardening in startling contrast to her soft, lovely face. "I hate being duped."

  "Pride," Boyd said, and tapped a finger on her nose. "You hate making a mistake."

  "I didn't make a mistake." Her chin angled upward. "The man's resume was outstanding." When Boyd continued to grin, she wrinkled her nose at him. "The problem is, you have to give a manager autonomy. You can't be everywhere at once. I remember one manager we had who was running a floating crap game in an empty apartment. He kept it rented under a fake name," she continued, nearly amused now. "He'd even filled out an application, complete with faked references. He made enough profit off the games to afford the overhead, so the rent came in like clockwork. I'd never have found out if someone hadn't tipped the cops and they raided the place. It turned out he'd done the same thing twice before."

  "Good Lord," Althea said, looking stunned.

  "Oh, it wasn't that bad," Natalie went on. "Actually, it was pretty exciting stuff. I just—What is it?" she demanded when Althea sprang to her feet.

  "Let's move." Colt was already headed out the door.

  Althea grabbed her coat and sprinted after him. "Boyd, run a make on—"

  "Nieman," he called out. "I got it. You want backup?"

  "I'll let you know."

  When the room emptied, Natalie threw up her hands and stared at Cilia. "What brought that on?"

  "Cops." Cilia shrugged. That said it all.

  Chapter 12

  "I can't believe we let that slip by us." Colt slammed the door to the Jeep and peeled away from the curb. This time he didn't bother to remove the parking ticket under the windshield wiper.

  "We're going on a hunch," Althea reminded him. "We could very well get slapped down."

  "You don't think so."

  She shut her eyes a moment, letting the pieces fall into place. "It fits," she said grimly. "Not one single tenant could swear they'd ever seen this Mr. Davis. He was the man who wasn't there—maybe because he never was."

  "And who would have had access to the penthouse? Who could have faked references—references that didn't have to exist? Who could have slipped through the building virtually unnoticed, because he was always there?"

  "Nieman."

  "I told you he was a weasel," Colt said between his teeth.

  She was forced to agree, but cautiously. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Nightshade. We're doing some follow-up questioning. That's all."

  "I'm getting answers," he shot back. "That's all."

  "Don't make me pull rank on you, Colt." She said it quietly, calming him. "We're going in there to ask questions. We may be able to shake him into slipping up. We may very well have to walk out without him. But now we have a place to start digging."

  They'd dig, all right, Colt thought. Deep enough to bury Nieman. "I'll follow your lead," he said. For now. He pulled up at a red light, drumming his fingers impatiently on the wheel. "I'd like to, ah… expla
in about Nat."

  "Explain what?"

  "That we aren't—weren't. Ever," he said savagely. "Got it?"

  "Really?" She'd laugh about this later, she was sure. Once there weren't so many other things on her mind. Still, she wasn't so preoccupied that she'd blow a chance to bait him. "Why not? She's beautiful, she's fun, she's smart. Looks like you fell down on that one, Nightshade."

  "It wasn't that I didn't… I mean, I thought about it. Started to—" He swore, revved the engine when the light turned. "She was Boyd's sister, all right? Before I knew it, she was like my sister, too, so I couldn't… think about her that way."

  She sent him a long, curious look. "Why are you apologizing?"

  "I'm not." His voice took on a vicious edge, because he realized he was doing just that. "I'm explaining. Though God knows why I'd bother. You think what you want."

  "All right. I think you're overreacting to a situation in typical, and predictable, male fashion." The look he speared at her should have sliced to the bone. She merely smiled. "I don't hold it against you. Any more than I would hold it against you if you and Natalie had been involved. The past is just that. I know that better than anyone."

  "I guess you do." He jammed the gearshift into fourth, then reached out to cover her hand with his. "But we weren't involved."

  "I'd have to say that was your loss, pal. She's terrific."

  "So are you."

  She smiled at him. "Yeah, I am."

  Colt steered to the curb, parking carelessly in a loading zone. He waited while Althea called in their location. "Ready?"

  "I'm always ready." She stepped out of the car. "I want to play this light," she told Colt. "Just follow-up questions. We've got nothing on him. Nothing. If we push too hard, we'll lose our chance. If we're right about this—''

  "We are right. I can feel it."

  So could she. She nodded. "Then I want him. For Liz. For Wild Bill." And for herself, she realized. To help her close the door this ordeal had opened again.

  They walked in together and approached Nieman's apartment. Althea sent Colt one last warning look, then knocked.

  "Yes, yes…" Nieman's voice came through the door. "What is it?"