Sweet Seduction Shield

by Nicola Claire

  She smiled a small smile at him and then turned her face up to mine, waiting for me to give her permission to talk to the stranger. I couldn't give her a reply, I was still so stunned he'd found us here so quickly.

  "How did you know we were here?" I asked the detective instead.

  Pierce stood back up to full height again, which made him slightly taller than me.

  "Let's grab a table and have a talk," he suggested, placing a hand on my elbow and leading me away from the counter, where we had started blocking other customers' view of the chocolate display.

  I wanted to pull my arm from his grip; it was second nature for me to not touch. But Daisy was watching everything with childlike curious eyes. I couldn't make a scene in front of my daughter. And as I followed mutely behind the detective a strange thing happened. He made sure there was no one in our way, no obstacles for us to avoid. He took a-round-about path, ensuring we wouldn't bump into anyone or anything. Ensuring I didn't have to jerk out of their way. He offered himself as a buffer. As if he instinctively knew I couldn't abide touching anything without preparing myself first.

  The only thing he hadn't allowed me to prepare for, was him touching me.

  He pulled Daisy's chair out first, making a fuss about seating a princess, then before I had a chance to recover from his sweet behaviour with my daughter, he had mine out as well. His eyes met my own in a challenge. Would I accept his gallant actions?

  I let a small breath of air out and sat myself down in the offered seat. His smile was one of complete male satisfaction. I was tempted to roll my eyes at him, like Daisy rolls hers at me.

  "Are you both all right?" he asked, after sitting himself down in the chair closest to mine.

  My eyes automatically sought out Daisy's, but she was too busy dancing in her seat to the music and people watching. I returned my attention back to the man before me.

  "We're here, aren't we?" I offered as answer. He just nodded, as though that made complete sense.

  "And where to after this?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned for our next move.

  "I don't know," I whispered with a shake of my head, and then jumped when Gen appeared at my shoulder.

  Pierce's hand came out and settled on my knee, helping to still the trembling that had started there. The intimate move, which was so out of character for a police officer to make, coupled with the plethora of stimulation this café provided, made me push my chair back suddenly and come to my feet. Chest heaving as I sucked in much needed air.

  I closed my eyes, as I closed my fists at my side, and vaguely heard Gen say to Daisy, "I need your help, Princess Daisy. I'm too busy to make a sign up for Kelly the King Penguin. Would you help me out and draw a picture, please?"

  My eyelids slowly opened and standing before me, also up from his chair, was Pierce. He held my gaze with a steady look in his eyes. Offering a form of grounding as Genevieve distracted my child.

  What was happening to me? Where had my shields all gone? This behaviour was hardly confident, was it? I was a mess and I didn't think I could get a handle on it any time soon. But I needed to. For Daisy.

  "Are you ready to sit down again?" Pierce asked, no judgement in his tone. Just a simple question, as though he was asking my opinion on the weather.

  I nodded shakily, and he reached around to pull my chair back into place. I sat while his hand was still on the back of it, so his arm brushed the sleeve of my shirt.

  Fuck. I'd done that on purpose. I hadn't waited for him to move, my body had just acted, hoping I'd feel the brush of his arm. Seeking the contact, a form of casual contact I usually shunned.

  My hand came up and covered my mouth, as I breathed heavily through my nose. Pierce watched me, leaning back in his chair and giving me a semblance of space. But I had the impression he could see right through me. Could see every internal battle my body and mind were currently having.

  My eyes jerked to Daisy, finding a set of crayons and a few sheets of paper set out in front of her. She was already carefully outlining a shape that could generously be called birdlike. I turned back to Pierce.

  We needed help. I needed help. At this rate I could not do this alone.

  "What happened?" he asked, leaning forward to murmur the words quietly, in an effort to not have Daisy hear. With the loud music, and barista banging, and happy chatting of the customers, I was sure Daisy was in a world of her own. Especially now she had a penguin masterpiece to create at the request of her new best friend behind the counter.

  This was it. The moment I let another person into my world. And in all honesty, he is a policeman, it is his job to help people like me. But this was such a dangerous tightrope to walk. I could only ever let Detective Ryan Pierce know part of my story. I could never, ever, let him know the entirety of my regretful acts.

  So, I needed to be at my best, to manoeuvre this conversation where I needed it to go, and away from where it must never be.

  Just then coffees were placed in front of both of us, a glass of water in front of Daisy, and three Kelly King Penguins on a single plate.

  "Bon appétit and all that jazz!" Blonde number two announced cheerfully from over our shoulders.

  "Thanks, Kelly," Pierce said just as cheerfully, and I cringed.

  "Your name is Kelly?" I asked, mortified we'd named a King Penguin after her.

  "And what a super name it is," she said with a wink at Daisy, who was giggling as she nibbled on Kelly's namesake.

  The young woman sauntered off with an exaggerated swing to her hips. I spun back to see if Pierce was watching the show, but his eyes were on me.

  "Drink up," he ordered softly, head nodding towards the coffee before me as if I didn't understand the command. And it was a command, he expected me to follow his instruction.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back at him. He might be a police officer, a detective in the Police Force, but he was not the boss of me.

  Oh God, too much alone time with a five year old. It was beginning to rub off.

  He lifted his own coffee to his lips and smirked, as though he was enjoying my immature defiance.

  But damn it, the coffee did smell good. I shifted in my seat and then reached out and snatched up the cup, downing a good portion before I managed my next breath. Pierce actually let out a laugh, hiding the response with another sip from his own cup.

  I chose to pretend that exchange had never happened and placed the container back on the table with a contented sigh.

  "Good coffee," I declared.

  "The best," he agreed.

  "Good choc'lit," Daisy added, letting us know she was quite capable of keeping up with our conversation as she coloured in the yellow feathers on her penguin.

  "Also the best," Pierce agreed. But didn't reach for a Kelly King Penguin morsel for himself. Instead he gently pushed the plate towards Daisy, who looked up at him with adoration in her eyes.

  I did roll mine at that. Buying a five year old with sweets. How typical. He should know better, considering his occupation. Daisy snatched one up without checking with me first. I gave her The Mother stare and she ducked her head a little.

  "He didn't want it," she defended.

  "You should ask first," I replied, in my best I'm-your-mother-listen-to-me voice.

  "Please," she said with a wide chocolate tooth covered smile.

  "Just the one, we'll save the other for later."

  "Wokay," she chimed happily.

  And as I had done so many times over the past few hours my heart began to ache, as I watched her smiling. Her attention back on the drawing for now, happy in her project, safe with her parent, excited to be out of school at a grown-ups café eating treats.

  How was I going to do this? How was I going to keep her safe?

  How?

  "You don't have to do this alone," Pierce said quietly to my side. "Let me help you, Marie. This is what I do. I'm good at it. The best in the country, in fact."

  My head jerked up at those words. Wh
at exactly did he mean?

  I searched his face for the subterfuge. For the ego that explained his confident words. I expected to see something, I was adept at using confidence to hide my fears, I assumed I could spot someone else using the same emotion to hide their lies too. But there was only sincerity. Concern. Worry. He was either better at this than me, and I'd been pretty damn good over the past five years, or he was just a genuinely caring man.

  Were there such men out there?

  "How?" I asked. The all important question.

  "I need to know what I'm up against," he replied steadily. "Preferably how badly he wants you and why?"

  I shook my head. That wasn't going to happen. Would he deny us help because I wouldn't open up about my past?

  "OK," he said, too easily. "We can work up to that." I didn't think so, but I'd let him believe it for now. "But in order for us to go forward, you will need to make a statement about yesterday afternoon."

  "Yesterday afternoon?" I asked, wondering just how much he already knew about the chase.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, making his jacket stretch across his thick biceps.

  "One of McLaren's men was spotted chasing you down Ponsonby Road. By the time we got there, you'd fled."

  Oh.

  "And the man?" I asked.

  "No trace."

  He watched me, waiting for me to offer up an explanation he wasn't going to get. At least I didn't need to rehash the pursuit.

  "Look," Pierce said, leaning forward in his seat again. "I can protect you. Both of you. But you've got to give me something to go on here. Tell me at least, why does McLaren still have the hots for you?"

  I frowned at his choice of words. My eyes flicking over Daisy to see if she picked up Pierce's terminology. She seemed oblivious, but that could all be a ruse. Kids her age are notoriously good at flying under the radar, but picking up on every nuance and reaction with ease.

  I turned back to Pierce and offered the only solid explanation I could. I still needed him, for protection for Daisy. I had to make it seem worth his while.

  "It's like you said yesterday in my office. I witnessed something he would rather not have the courts made aware of."

  "And that's it?" he asked, disbelievingly I think.

  "That's enough, isn't it?" I bluffed.

  Pierce stared at me for a long moment and then ran a hand over his goatee beard in contemplation.

  "OK," he said finally. "The problem is he's still got one 'worker bee' out there following his instructions, given through his attorney we believe. We can't cut the lawyer off, but with some time we will apprehend the 'helper'."

  I wondered if the terms he was using were chosen because Daisy was here, or whether Pierce spoke in code like this all the time. Clearly 'worker bee' and 'helper' was meant to describe the tattooed freak/goon. If it wasn't such a vile and dangerous situation, I'd have smiled.

  The good news was though, that the Police believed only one of McLaren's men was still at large.

  "Are you sure it's just the one guy?" I asked, needing clarification. Surely catching one man was easier than catching a platoon of them. And, with only one man after us on McLaren's orders, then surely we could hide until he was caught.

  Then disappear.

  "We're sure," Pierce replied firmly. "He slipped the net when the taskforce went in, because he was overseas on holiday at the time."

  Goons take holidays. Go figure.

  I let a long breath of air out.

  "OK, so what now?" I asked when I was done deflating.

  "I need you to make a statement about yesterday."

  "I'm not going to the Police Station."

  "You don't have to," he replied instantly, shaking his head to back up the statement. "We can do it remotely."

  I nodded slowly. I could sign a statement about the guy being in our flat and then chasing us. That wouldn't give too much, if anything, away. It was obvious McLaren wanted us, or more to the point me, and the reason I'd given - witnessing Rick's death - was not news to the cops. And it fit into the scenario nicely.

  If I could keep their attention on just that, then they wouldn't find out about the rest of it.

  "And until we can secure this loose thread," Pierce was saying, "we can place you and Daisy in a safe house."

  "What's a safe house?" Daisy piped up, letting us know Pierce's carefully chosen euphemisms hadn't quite been careful enough.

  He didn't even bat an eyelash, just launched into a suitable description for a five year old mind.

  "It's a special place people holiday in when they can't go back home right away."

  I had hoped Daisy would focus on the word holiday, just as I'm sure Pierce had hoped too.

  "Why can't we go home?" Daisy asked, eyes flicking between me and Pierce. "Is it because of that man?"

  My heart shattered, cleaved right in two. She'd been so resilient, I'd begun to think everything that had happened had slid right off my daughter's back. But of course she remembered it all. Right down to standing on our doorstep and hearing the crashing going on inside. Right down to my frozen terror at the realisation we had an intruder in our home and who had probably sent him.

  "Daisy," Pierce said softly, leaning forward over the table top to give her his full attention. "Do you know what a detective is?"

  "He's a Policeman who doesn't wear uniforms," she announced with pride at her knowledge.

  "That's true," Pierce said, picking at his jacket purposefully. "Do you also know what they do?"

  She scrunched up her little face and thought hard about that for a moment.

  "They fix things," she said eventually. "They find things people took and bring them back."

  Pierce nodded solemnly at my daughter.

  "And do you know what else they do, Princess Daisy?" He didn't wait for her answer. "They help people who need it. They look out for them, keep them safe, take care of them when things get a little bumpy."

  "Bumpy?" she said, eyes slowly coming back to mine.

  "Yeah bumpy, baby," I said, reaching out and taking her hand into mine. "Yesterday was a bit bumpy, eh?"

  She nodded vigorously, making another crack appear in my heart.

  I was doing the right thing. I was getting help. I just prayed Ryan Pierce was going to be able to provide it.

  "Guess what I am, Daisy?" he said, still giving my girl his undivided attention.

  Her eyes widened in realisation, then she whispered in an awestruck voice, "You're a deetetiv?"

  He smiled and chuckled softly. "Not just any detective," he replied. "I'm your very own personal detective."

  She stared at him for a long moment and then said in her innocent child's voice, "Can I call you Kelly too?"

  Chapter 6

  Then I Lost The Ability To Think Completely

  "No, Daisy," I said trying not to laugh. "Detective Pierce's name is Ryan."

  She blinked, then said simply, "Wokay." Returning her attention to the last of her drawing, as though the subject was officially closed.

  And I guess it was. My daughter approved of our 'very own personal detective'. I stared at him, as he smiled across the table at Daisy's head. He seemed totally besotted with her, in that isn't-she-just-so-cute kind of way adults can get around kids. As though he was thinking about his own children, or maybe if he didn't already have them, about those he could have in the future. Comparing them to my Daisy.

  He could do worse. She was a great kid, the best child, a beautiful little soul. She was a little piece of me and a little piece of a man I once loved with all my heart. I may have a hell of a lot of pent up anger at where Rick eventually took us, which has crushed that young-person love I once had. But I am not so unforgiving that I don't remember what it was like before our world crashed down around our ears.

  Rick did love me, he just loved the money and lifestyle McLaren offered more. And he paid dearly for that love in the end.

  Pierce cleared his throat and my eyes came back up to hi
s. I hadn't realised he'd stopped adoring my daughter and was studying me instead.

  "Where did you just go?" he asked softly. An almost intimate question in itself.

  "To a place I have no right to visit anymore." The reply was out before I could stop it. I almost cringed. I think I might have looked a little shocked, because Pierce stilled for a moment, and then slowly let the air out of his lungs.

  "OK," he said, either dismissing that little second of overindulgence, or deciding it was best to move things along. "I have a place set up for you both to stay. A colleague who has an extremely safe house and..."

  "We're not staying somewhere with you?" I blurted, and did cringe on that one.

  He smiled back at me. "Oh, I'll be there, whenever I can. But I've also got a worker bee to catch and a case to prepare for court."

  I almost said, "But it's you I trust." Managing to stop myself before I became a cliché.

  Pierce, being the perceptive policeman that he is, picked up on my thoughts anyway.

  "I trust this man and his woman completely. And you can too. They understand where you're coming from. More than you'll probably ever know."

  I tilted my head slightly to the side and tried to interpret what he'd just said.

  "I don't know," I said eventually. "It was hard enough coming here," I admitted.

  "I know," he whispered, moving closer to me in his chair. "Trust me then."

  I held his intense gaze, the browns in his eyes so deep and reassuring, mesmerising enough to make me feel like I was falling into their depths.

  "This is what I do, Marie. Let me do it," he encouraged further.

  I looked at Daisy. Then I took a quick glance around the larger than life, yet completely welcoming environment of Sweet Seduction. At Genevieve and Kelly behind the counter. At the smiling happy faces on all the customers. At a place Pierce had provided me as a refuge, and hadn't been wrong. We'd found a sanctuary here. A haven. A busy port in a safe harbour.

  Could I trust him? I think I already did.

  "OK," I said with a small nod of my head, and felt his hand slip into mine and squeeze. Just once. Just briefly. Then he was gone again, as though he knew he'd overstepped the mark. But strangely, I hadn't even jerked, nor felt any of that familiar panic at the unexpected contact.