by Terri Reed
Her gaze met his with concern. “But you must want to put up your own certificates and pictures. This is your office now. You need to move on.”
“The few certificates I have are tucked away in a box. But I suppose I could get them out.”
“Pictures?”
He shrugged. “No happy family portraits except the ones with you and your father, remember?”
She winced. “I’m sorry.”
Waving away her sympathy, he said, “Please, don’t be. With your father’s help and God’s grace, I’ve forgiven my parents their flaws.”
Tilting her head with curiosity in her lovely dark eyes, she said, “You really do have a deep sense of faith, don’t you?”
“I do.”
A look of wonder crossed her face. “Just like my father.”
Sadness replaced the wonder. “He’d wanted me to embrace faith the same way. I tried.” She let out a bitter noise. “What little good that did.”
They’d covered this ground. Ben didn’t know how to make her understand God wasn’t to blame for her loss. So instead this time he concentrated on the most important truth. “God is good. And He loves you. Take a chance on letting Him in. What do you have to lose?”
“I don’t know if I have it in me to trust Him,” she replied, her voice soft and so full of sorrow.
“You do. I know you do. He will never give up on you. Don’t give up on Him.”
She seemed to consider what he’d said for a moment. Then her expression closed, shutting down any more conversation. “I’d like to leave now.”
Resigned to letting the subject drop, he shook his head. “I don’t think you should do the benefit show.”
“Excuse me?” She bolted from the chair. “I’m not going to let this guy win. He’s already ruined my life by murdering my father. I’m not going to let him take my dancing, too. You can’t ask that of me.”
Ben was glad to hear her lay the blame for Greg’s death so firmly where it belonged. A little forward progress was a good thing. The benefit show was a logistical nightmare, but so was every time they went out in public. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t want to back out of the charity event.
Though she certainly wasn’t making his job easy. But she wouldn’t be Corinna if she rolled over and played dead. No, she was a fighter. Much stronger than he’d ever imagined.
But the question was, was he strong enough to keep from falling in love with her?
ELEVEN
Daniel Riley appeared in the doorway of Ben’s office. “SAPD found the car.”
Hoping for more good news, Ben asked, “The driver?”
“Unfortunately, long gone. He abandoned the vehicle in the parking lot of a convenience store. CSU is taking possession of the car. If they find anything, they’ll let us know.”
Disappointed, Ben stood. “Call my cell. I’ll be with Corinna.”
Daniel’s gaze jumped from him to Corinna and back. “Okay. I heard you’re out a vehicle. You want to take my truck?”
Grateful for the offer, Ben shook his head. “No need. I’ll take a department vehicle. Thanks.”
Ben switched gears as he remembered the assignment he’d given Daniel. “How did the Alamo committee meeting go?”
“It went well. There are a few things we need to smooth out, but nothing we can’t handle.”
Ben clapped Daniel on the back. “I appreciate you taking the lead on this, Daniel.”
He touched his fingers to the brim of his hat. “Aim to serve.”
“I know, which is why I put the paperwork in for your promotion.”
Daniel inclined his head. “To which I’m much obliged.”
Obligation had nothing to do with one aspect of being upper management Ben really enjoyed. Hard work and dedication had earned Daniel Riley the promotion. “Let me know if anything develops.”
“Sure thing.” Daniel dipped his head to Corinna.
“Miss Pike.” Then he left the office.
Ben turned his attention to Corinna. Extending his arm, he said, “Shall we?”
“Thank you.” She linked her arm through his. “For everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Until we catch this guy, I’m your shadow.”
“Glad to hear that.”
He sucked in a breath at the look of obvious approval and something else in her eyes…something close to affection.
For a moment he had the same sinking feeling he’d had once, as a kid on a camping trip with one of his foster families, when he’d found himself trapped in a quicksand pit along the Rio Grande River. It had taken three people to drag him out.
Trouble was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be dragged out of this particular quicksand.
Corinna couldn’t concentrate. She kept missing the steps.
“Cory, you okay?” Kyle asked for at least the fourth time.
She sighed. “Sorry. Where were we?”
“Let’s start at the setup for the lift.” Kyle went over to the iPod to reset the track.
Corinna moved to her position. She stared at Ben’s reflection in the mirror. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his handsome face as he watched her and her dance partner move together around the hardwood floor.
For the past two days, he’d been true to his word. He’d shadowed her every move, sticking close except at night when he left her in Gisella’s care. Come morning, she’d find him sitting in his car outside of Gisella’s house. She suspected he’d gone home only long enough to change clothes.
Good thing her cat was used to being alone. The feline had made herself quite comfortable at Ben’s. As comfortable as Corinna was becoming in his shadow. His attentive need to stand guard made her feel protected and safe, yes, but also cherished and special.
“Cory?”
She pulled her thoughts back to the dance. She’d missed her cue. “Sorry. Why don’t we take a break?”
Kyle strode across the floor, moving with primal grace. Taller than her, he exuded the athletic abilities in his hard sculpted muscles indicative of male dancers. He stopped beside her, his green eyes concerned. “Is he bothering you? Should I make him leave?”
She followed his glance toward Ben. He definitely was bothering her, but not in the way Kyle thought. She’d never before felt self-conscious while dancing. Ben’s presence made her jittery on so many levels.
The Texas Ranger straightened, his hands falling to his sides as if they’d jerked his chain. He looked ready to brawl. Obviously, he took his duty as her protector to the extreme. He reminded her of a pit bull—fighting was in their genes. Protecting was just a part of who Ben was. And she found she didn’t mind.
Returning her attention to Kyle, she said, “I just need a few minutes.”
Kyle’s gaze darted between the two. “Okay. If you say so.”
Corinna moved to the side and picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from her brow and neck.
Her guard dog stepped over. “You done?”
“Just a break.” She studied his face. “You don’t have to watch, you know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”
She swept a hand outward toward the room. “It’s a closed space. No windows, one entrance. I think it’d be safe if you wanted to wait out in the hall.”
Hazel eyes narrowed. “What, I make you nervous?”
Oh, on so many levels. “Actually, yes.”
He looked taken aback at her answer. “I was joking. Am I really making you nervous?”
How could he not know his effect on her? “Yes. For two days you’ve been standing over there scowling like you want to hit something. I appreciate that you feel responsible for me and all, but really, if you don’t want to be here that badly, assign someone else.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be here,” he said. He shot a glance to Kyle, who sat stretching on the floor near the mirrored wall. “I just don’t trust that guy. He checked out fine but…”
; “What?” She let out a surprised laugh. “You checked him out? You can’t possibly think Kyle has anything to do with the man who attacked me or killed my father. He’s been my dance partner for two years.”
Ben’s expression turned inscrutable.
Corinna tried to make sense of things. He’d suspected Kyle of wrongdoing? The absurdity of the suggestion rocked her back a step. A thought crossed her mind, startling her and sending her heart into triple time. Could Ben be jealous of Kyle?
Talk about absurd. Yet…
Ben could only feel jealous if he felt something more than duty and obligation towards her. Right?
A pleased warmth spread through her.
But she clamped down on that tide.
She wasn’t ready to examine her own feelings for Ben too closely. Not with her father’s killer still on the loose and the threat to her life hanging over their heads. Still, she couldn’t just let Ben twist in the wind.
She laid a hand on his chest, felt his heart thundering beneath her palm. “Kyle’s engaged. His fiancée and I are good friends.”
Tension visibly melted from his body. Ben’s expression turned almost sheepish as he covered her hand with his and curled his fingers around hers. “I, uh—should check in. See if Cade has any news from CSU on the car.”
“You probably should,” she replied, keeping her voice as even as possible so he wouldn’t hear the amusement dancing inside her, making her feel lighter than she had in the past few weeks.
She just hoped she didn’t get carried away.
Ben sank onto a wicker chair in the waiting area outside the dance room. Wow, he’d just made a fool of himself.
He’d been jealous and she’d called him on it with a graciousness he admired. He had no right to be jealous. But he couldn’t deny knowing Kyle was engaged put his mind at ease.
At ease? What was that about? As if Ben had staked a claim on Corinna. His mind reeled.
Taking off his Stetson and setting it beside him on the bench, he raked a hand through his hair. He had it bad. He knew Kyle wasn’t a physical threat to Corinna’s safety. He’d done a thorough background check on him the day after Greg’s murder.
No, the threat was only in Ben’s head. Jealous. He didn’t do jealous. At least he hadn’t until now. But when he heard Kyle call her by a nickname, he couldn’t hold back his wish that he was close enough to Corinna to give her a nickname.
What did that mean?
“Lord, forgive me,” he whispered. He didn’t want to be full of jealousy. The toxic emotion had no place in his life.
He’d dated over the years occasionally. Had even had two long-term, romantic relationships. But he’d never experienced any sort of jealousy while dating Simone or Tara. Both relationships had run their course and ended amicably.
Though in retrospect, Ben acknowledged his heart had never really been involved with either woman. He’d liked them, cared for them even, but not love. Never love.
He wished Greg were here to give him advice. He’d know what to tell Ben, would be able to help him navigate this foreign territory. Though Ben doubted Greg would be too appreciative to discover Ben loved his daughter.
That last thought blasted through him with the thrust of a missile launch, making him a bit lightheaded.
He loved Corinna.
Greg’s daughter.
Shock like a wave of icy water filled his veins. Oh, man, this was bad. He had no business falling in love with Corinna and all the reasons why marched across his brain. She was off-limits. He was supposed to be protecting her. He wasn’t good enough for her.
But the biggest reason of all came tearing to the fore-front. He was afraid. Afraid to commit his heart for fear she’d leave, just as everyone else whom he’d loved had done.
Resolved to ignore the ache in his chest, he swiped his hat off the bench and headed inside the studio to watch Corinna dance. His only duty was to protect her. And nothing more.
Awareness zipped along Corinna’s nerve endings before she even glanced in the mirror and her gaze collided with Ben’s. The scowl was gone as he took a seat on a stack of mats at the back of the room.
She smiled. He returned the favor. Her heart hitched and she careened out of control on her pirouette. She quickly recovered and focused on her dance.
An hour later, Madame Martin, an elegant woman who once had been the prima ballerina for the Joffrey Ballet, glided into the room, followed by the full company. She clapped sharply, signaling the end of Corinna and Kyle’s rehearsal time. Her sharp eyes missed nothing as she assessed the dancers.
“For tomorrow’s event I expect you all to arrive prepared and on time for dress rehearsal,” Madame intoned. The ballet troupe’s director slid a glance toward Ben and then back to Corinna. “I have been assured all necessary precautions have been taken to keep everyone safe.”
Corinna appreciated Madame’s concern. She’d been upset and highly indignant to hear of the attempts on Corinna’s life, especially the one here in the dance company’s building. She ran a tight ship.
“Let’s run through the whole program and then we’ll call it a day,” Madame said.
The full run-through went well. Anticipation bubbled in Corinna’s blood. She couldn’t wait to leap across the open-air stage of the Arneson River Theatre tomorrow. Only a smidge of apprehension slithered over her flesh, raising goose bumps as she used a towel to wipe away the sheen of perspiration glistening on her skin.
She gathered her things, hitched her dance bag over her shoulder and joined Ben at the door. He immediately reached for the bag. Liking his gentlemanly manners, she allowed him to carry the tote to the borrowed vehicle. His attention made her feel special. But she had to remind herself he was only doing his job. They weren’t dating or anything. Still, nervous tension bounced around her stomach.
She sought a safe subject as he drove and since she was curious about his life outside of the Rangers, she asked, “What do you do for fun?”
Ben seemed surprised by her question. “Fish occasionally. Ride my dirt bike.”
“Dad talked about me learning to ride, but we never got around to it,” she said with a dose of sadness and regret.
There were so many things they’d talked about doing, but never had the chance. She used to blame her father’s relationship with Ben as the reason they never followed through on their plans. But now she understood that her dancing had been the biggest obstacle to having father/daughter time.
Letting go of all that resentment and anger left her feeling a bit hollow.
“I’ll teach you,” Ben offered.
Her heart rate picked up. “To ride? Really? That would be awesome.”
“How about next Saturday?”
She didn’t have to even think about it. “Yes. Saturday.”
He gave her a slight bemused lopsided grin. “It’s a date, then.”
A date? The word rippled through her, the ramifications at once scary and yet, so right.
A date. She held the promise of the word in her heart. She had no idea where a date would lead. But for the first time since she’d met Ben, she really wanted to explore a relationship with him.
And that left her feeling off-kilter and scared.
Ben’s cell phone rang, jerking his attention away from the shocking fact that he’d just made a date with Corinna. Wow. Not the way he’d expected the conversation to go. The words had just popped out before he’d been able to filter them. Not smart. He’d have to be more careful. He answered his phone. “Fritz.”
“Hey, CSU found a partial print on the car,” Anderson said. “We got a match on one—Eddie Jimenez. A resident of Boot Hill, Texas, with a long record of misdemeanors in Cameron County.”
“Why didn’t his picture show up in the NCIC database?”
“From the sounds of it, they do things old school over in Cameron. The sheriff said we were lucky to have electronic access to their fingerprints since they’d just this past summer gained the capability to upload th
e files to the AFIS.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Ben remarked.
“Get a BOLO out on Jimenez.”
“Already done,” Anderson replied.
Of course it was. Ben could count on his team. “Keep me informed.”
“Will do.” Anderson hung up.
Ben returned his phone to the breast pocket of his dress shirt and his attention back to weaving through traffic.
Excited energy radiated from Corinna. “They found him?”
“Not yet. But we have a name. Eddie Jimenez. Ring any bells?”
She shook her head. “How is he connected to my father?”
“Don’t know. But I intend to find out.”
The next day when Ben picked her up at Gisella’s to take her to the Arneson River Theatre, she’d asked him to stop by the shelter on the way. He waited outside because of the no-men-inside rule.
“You’ll get to watch the performance on video.” Corinna stood with her back to the cold fireplace while the occupants of the shelter gathered in the living room around her. The worn furniture needed replacing and the carpet could use a shampoo. Corinna would make sure some of the proceeds from the benefit went to sprucing them up, as well as the kitchen remodeling and five new beds already planned.
“But it won’t be the same,” whined twelve-year-old Claire. Tall for her age and gangly with long dark hair, the young girl chafed at being cooped up in the shelter. Corinna sympathized with the girl, knowing how limiting the shelter was. But the safety of the women and children depended on those limits.
Corinna exchanged a sympathetic glance with the girl’s mother, Pat. She had taken her daughter and five-year-old son out of a highly volatile situation where her husband’s drinking had careened out of control.
“Honey, it’s not safe,” Pat stated quietly, resting a hand on her son’s shoulder. His arm still sported a cast from her husband’s alcohol-induced temper.
“Is it safe for us?” Gretchen asked her mother, Carol.
