by Unknown
Just then two men in security uniforms, guns drawn, burst into her office. The weapons wavered among the three people standing as if they didn’t know where to point them. Paige didn’t recognize them.
“What’s going on?” the youngest asked.
“Put the guns away,” Shane ordered. “She’s not going anywhere and neither is the man behind the desk.”
“He’s the one you should lock up,” the woman yelled, trying to twist free. “You fellows know me. He attacked us for no reason.”
The security guards traded worried looks, backed up, and trained their guns on Shane. “Turn her loose.”
“No!” Paige shouted. The guards’ hands weren’t too steady on their weapons. “I’m Paige Albright and this is my office. I called you. These two stole from me tonight and before. They admitted it.”
“She lying,” the woman said, beginning to cry. “We didn’t do anything. I swear.”
A city police officer entered the room just then. With him was a third building security guard. The brawny man had SUPERVISOR on his nameplate.
“I’m Officer Dawson. What’s going on?” the policeman asked.
“Officer Dawson, before this goes any farther, do you think the guns could be put away?” Shane suggested. “The good guys obviously outnumber the bad, and I wouldn’t want one to go off accidentally. Especially when Ms. Albright and her mother are personal friends with the mayor and the governor.”
“Put ’em away,” the policeman ordered. The two guards fumbled to do as told.
“Thanks,” Shane said, then began to explain. “The moan you hear is coming from the other thief behind Ms. Albright’s desk. This woman is his accomplice.” Shane handed the woman to the nearest security guard.
Officer Dawson went behind the desk, grabbed the thief’s arm, and helped him to his feet. The man held the side of his neck with his free hand.
“Building security records will show that Ms. Albright reported the theft of a pair of gold earrings she left on her desk last week.” Shane’s hard gaze swept the three security men. “She was blown off and nothing was done. They didn’t even contact the cleaning service as she suggested, which was a mistake.”
“He’s crazy!” the woman yelled. “Tell them, baby! We didn’t take nothing!”
The groggy man’s head lifted. “He attacked me ’cause we caught them doing the nasty.”
Shane ignored the lie. “You’ll find a marked fifty-dollar bill in his right pocket.”
The man’s eyes bugged. “He must have planted it in there while I was out.”
“Then your fingerprints shouldn’t be on the bill,” Shane remarked.
The officer patted the man’s jeans pocket. His eyes hardened, his grip on the man’s arm tightened. “You want to change your story?”
The man wet his lips. “I-I . . .”
“Think of something!” the woman shouted. “I don’t want to go back to jail.”
“Shut up,” her accomplice yelled.
“I’ve heard enough,” the officer said. He read the man his rights, then the woman, and finally handcuffed them. “I need you and Ms. Albright to come downtown to make statements.”
Shane went to stand beside a silent Paige. “I’ll bring Ms. Albright, but before we go, you should know that they were bragging about having marks in different departments,” Shane told the officer. “The woman was bemoaning having to pawn Ms. Albright’s earrings. You’ll probably find the earrings in their car or home. Since security was slow to take Ms. Albright’s complaint, they might have been the same way with others, which inadvertently helped the thieves.”
“Are you in law enforcement?” Officer Dawson asked.
“Computers,” Shane said. “Ms. Albright asked for my help since she wasn’t getting any from her building security. It’s a shame she had to apprehend the thieves herself, risk injury, then have a gun drawn on her.”
The police officer looked at the three security people with disdain. “I want a copy of Ms. Albright’s complaint as well as that of any other person in this building faxed to the station. I also want you to contact the cleaning crew supervisor of this shift and have him meet us downstairs. Maybe you can do that without messing it up.”
Paige was too quiet. She hadn’t said three words to Shane since they had left her office building. She simply sat, her hands folded, her face turned away. The dejected pose tore at his heart. Not even being told they’d found her earrings in the woman’s purse had any effect on her.
Shane wished for just fifteen, even ten seconds with the creep who had frightened her, called her stupid because she trusted people. He’d show him what it was like to be scared. Since the thief was locked up, that wasn’t possible.
“Are you all right?” he asked when he pulled up in front of her house. He’d taken a cab to her office that afternoon because he hadn’t known how long it would take, or even if the thief would try anything that night. Earlier when he’d asked for her car keys in the parking lot of her office building, she’d wordlessly handed them over.
“Yes,” Paige finally answered. She opened the passenger door just as the front door flew open and her mother raced down the steps to meet them. Mrs. Albright didn’t stop until she held Paige firmly in her arms.
After a long moment Mrs. Albright leaned Paige away to stare down at her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, Mother. I think I’ll go to bed.” Paige barely glanced at Shane. “Good night, and thank you.”
Mrs. Albright waited until Paige entered the house. “What’s the matter with her?”
“I think I know, but I can’t tell you.”
She stepped in his face. “If something else happened, you better tell me.”
The fierceness of a mother’s love. He’d seen the same warning look in Ruth Grayson’s face when she thought he was withholding information about Sierra’s kidnapping. Without thinking he lifted his hands to rest on Mrs. Albright’s tense shoulders. “It’s nothing you should worry about.”
She relaxed only marginally. “She’s my daughter and I love her. I’ve never seen her this . . . remote. She’s been through enough in life.”
Shane could well imagine. “I’m going to talk to her.” Taking her arm, they started inside.
“Tell her I’m preparing her favorite breakfast,” Mrs. Albright said as they entered the house. “What’s yours?”
“I don’t have one,” Shane admitted. As soon as he’d been old enough to scrounge up his own meals, his mother had let him have the job. He couldn’t have been any older than four or five.
As an adult, he enjoyed good food, and since working for Blade, he’d eaten at the most expensive and best restaurants in the world. Blade’s personal chef once worked at the only five-star hotel in Texas. Still, Shane couldn’t say he craved one food over another.
But there was definitely a woman he desired above all others. “Anything will do.”
“We’ll have to change that before you leave.” She smiled at him, then looked up at the stairs. “I’ll leave Paige to you while I go see if everything I need is in the kitchen. If not, Macy can bring it in the morning. Don’t forget to tell Paige.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
“Just make sure Paige is smiling at breakfast in the morning.” Leaving him in the foyer, Mrs. Albright headed for the kitchen.
Tall order. He had every intention of making it happen. Taking the stairs two at a time, he didn’t stop until he stood in front of Paige’s door. He rapped. “Paige.”
“I’m rather tired.”
You’re also hiding. “You and I need to talk and I’m not leaving until we do.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. Her voice sounded thick, as if she were fighting tears. He cursed under his breath and took matters into his own hands. “Then listen.” He opened the door.
Paige bounded up from sitting on the side of the bed. Thankfully she hadn’t changed. Conversation would have been impossible if she’d
already dressed for bed.
“Please, Shane, just leave.” Her voice quivered. She glanced away.
“Not until I have my say.” He crossed the room until he stood in front of her. “I never apologized for putting you in harm’s way tonight. I’m sorry. You had no idea of what to expect. I did, and I let you stay anyway.”
She wrapped her slim arms around her tiny waist. “There is nothing for you to apologize for.” She swallowed, bit her lower lip. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was useless. You could have been killed. I let myself get caught and all I could do was—”
“Look to me to help you.” He finally touched her, just her arm. Her skin felt like warmed porcelain and just as fragile and delicate. She was nothing like any woman he’d been with before, and the thought pleased him immensely. “Do you know how much that touched me—even as it angered me that he would hurt you, frightened me that he might have a weapon, that I hadn’t kept my promise? You trusted me to help you.”
She frowned up at him. “What promise?”
“That you wouldn’t be hurt,” he said.
“Thanks to you, I wasn’t.”
“I don’t know what I would have done if you had been,” he admitted softly. Even now the thought made his chest tight.
Her arms slowly unfolded. Her gaze glued to his, she lifted one hand and placed it on his chest, easing the constriction there and causing his heart to race. “I was frightened for you,” she said softly.
Only Rio and Blade ever thought of his safety. “We’re both all right. Your earrings were recovered and you showed your co-workers, the owner of the cleaning company, and building security that you were right about there being a thief. Quite an accomplishment.”
The corners of her sweet, sexy mouth lifted. “Jackie kept apologizing when I called her.”
He wondered if she knew her fingertips were stroking him. “You’ll probably get more of the same from your co-workers tomorrow,” he told her. “And well you should. Despite what they were telling you, you weren’t afraid to prove them wrong.”
“The real credit goes to you,” she said softly.
“Why don’t we share it?” he said, happy to see that she was less tense. Watching her closely, his other hand lifted to her waist. Her fingertips paused, her body tensed almost imperceptibly for a tension-filled moment, then she relaxed and her fingers went back to caressing him.
“I’d like that.”
He liked holding her. “Good. I’ll see you at breakfast. Your mother wanted me to tell you that she’s preparing your favorite.”
“She is?” Surprise widened Paige’s eyes.
“She is, and I’ve been invited to join you.” Reluctantly he stepped back. Her stroking was having the wrong effect on another part of his anatomy. “See you in the morning.”
“Shane,” she called when he had almost reached the door.
He stopped and looked back. “Yes?”
“Do you think you can teach me to be less of a pushover?” she asked, her gaze direct and hopeful.
He hadn’t expected the request. Still, whatever it took for Paige to feel more in control of her life—if it was within his power, he’d see that she got it. “We’ll start tomorrow after you get home from work.”
Her smile lit up her face, made his blood heat, made him wonder what the hell he was letting himself in for. “Good night.”
“Night.”
Paige woke up with a smile. It was all because of Shane. She didn’t know what it was about him that excited her, drew her, but she wasn’t going to fight the attraction.
He was her Prince Charming, her Black Knight, all rolled into one. Throwing back the covers, she quickly showered and dressed in a figure-flattering sage-colored sheath. She didn’t delude herself that she wasn’t dressing for Shane. She wasn’t running away any longer.
Paige opened her bedroom door and saw the man who occupied her thoughts more and more. “Shane.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. He wore a white polo shirt that stretched across his impressive chest and showed off his muscular arms. She bit back a sigh of delight.
“Good morning, Paige.” His eyes raked her in one maddeningly slow sweep that caused awareness and, yes, anticipation to sweep through her of the day he’d do more than just look. She held her breath until their eyes met. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always look more beautiful every time I see you.”
You do, too, flashed through her mind, but the words never made it to her tongue. She wasn’t that brave yet. “Thank you.”
“Shall we go down to breakfast?” He offered his arm.
Her fingers curved through the crook of his arm. She felt the heat and hardness of his conditioned body as he drew her closer. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Yes,” he answered as they started down the stairs. “And you?”
“Wonderful,” she answered, then dropped her head for fear the breathless quality in her voice might have given away her fascination with him.
In the middle of the stairs, he stopped. Strong, insistent fingers lifted her chin. “Lesson number one. Always keep your head up.”
The warmth of his touch made her skin tingle, then heat. Running away from personal conflict was what she did. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I do,” he said softly, stirring her senses. “You’re conflicted between your heart and your head. You’d rather hurt than hurt others.”
Her head started to fall, but his strong finger wouldn’t allow it. Neither would he let her look away from him. “I have no backbone,” she admitted.
His eyes narrowed, darkened. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. It takes courage to reach out and help others. If not for you, Noah would have been lost. You helped him turn his life around when others had given up. It took courage for you to keep fighting for him to help himself. You just have to learn to do the same for yourself.”
“I’ll tr—”
“Lesson number two,” he said, cutting her off. “Even when you’re on your backside, never give up. And lose the negative thinking.”
She bristled for all of three seconds, then blew out a breath. He was right. “Any other lessons?”
“Lots.” He grinned at her. “I’ll tell you as we go along. Now let’s get breakfast.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and headed for the kitchen. “Whatever your favorite food is, it sure smells good.”
“Blueberry pancakes with whipped cream and fresh blueberries,” Paige answered. “Mother doesn’t cook very often, but when she does, it will make you smack your lips.”
His gaze centered on her mouth, sending a ball of fire through her. “Now, that would be an experience.”
Paige couldn’t hide the blush, but she did manage to keep her chin up. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Shane’s sensual lips would feel like on her. Would they be hot or warm? Gentle or persuasive? Whatever, she knew she’d never forget the taste of him.
Dragging her gaze away, she followed him into the high-ceilinged kitchen with its black granite island and copper pots overhead. At the stove, her mother turned. “Good morning, Paige. Shane. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Shane asked, releasing Paige to pull out a chair at the century-old square oak table.
“No, thank you.” Expertly Mrs. Albright slid three pancakes off the griddle onto a platter, then turned over the ham sizzling in the cast-iron skillet. Dressed in a cotton eyelet sleeveless shirtdress, she had an apron around her waist and looked as calm and as cool as she did when entertaining guests or speaking to one of her many social clubs.
Paige just stood there, memories sweeping over her of her mother in the kitchen preparing her favorite food when life had slammed her down, as it had so many times. In the South, food was a panacea for wounded souls. Her mother had given her that and so much more. Unconditional love and encouragement no matter how many times Paige had failed.
Her father hadn’t been so
forgiving. She shivered.
“Paige?” Shane said, his brow furrowed in concern.
“You sure you don’t need any help, Mother?” Paige asked.
Smiling, Mrs. Albright shook her head. “Macy helped me get things started before she went upstairs to start cleaning in my room.” Mrs. Albright stirred the grits. “Please have a seat.”
Paige finally accepted the chair Shane held so patiently. The table was beautifully laid with two place settings of her grandmother’s fine china and sterling flatware. Neither her grandmother nor her mother believed in saving the “good” china and flatware for guests. Family came first to them, and it showed . . . or it had until shortly after her father’s death. The centerpiece was a Waterford vase filled with white roses, Paige’s favorite flower.
Her mother placed two fruit plates on the table. “You aren’t joining us?” Paige asked.
Mrs. Albright laughed. Paige didn’t realize until then that her mother hadn’t laughed, really laughed as she did now, free and happy, in a long time. “You know I sample as I go.”
“I don’t blame you.” Shane rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait.”
Her mother picked up two large platters and placed them on the table. One held an eight-inch stack of fluffy blueberry pancakes browned to perfection; the other, an assortment of breakfast meats. Next came two bowls of cheese grits and freshly squeezed orange juice. “I’ll say grace so you can eat.”
Paige bowed her head as her mother blessed the food. She was one of those women who was at ease in any situation and did everything well. That was why her being so secretive caused Paige such concern. What was her reason for visiting Trent Masters? His accusations couldn’t possibly have any validity.
“Would you like coffee, Shane?” Paige’s mother asked.
“Please. Black,” he answered, passing the pancakes to Paige just as the phone on the granite countertop rang.
Paige’s mother threw the instrument a look of annoyance. “Let it ring,” she advised.
Paige frowned, then placed two pancakes on her plate. Her mother was usually too well bred and courteous to ignore a ringing phone. “I can get it.”
