by Peggy Jaeger
“There’s that bossiness again, Bannerman.”
“Abigail.”
For the first time in all the memories she had of him saying her dreaded name, she actually didn’t mind it. It was kind of…cute. In a totally annoying way.
Moonlight rubbed against her ankles, so Abby scooped her up and brought her into the living room. When she sat down onto the couch, the cat snuggled in her arms and purred like a jet engine revving.
“There’s a loaf of Kandy’s herb bread wrapped in aluminum foil in the fridge,” she said. “It’ll go good with the soup.”
With a dishtowel tucked into the waistband of his pants, he looked much the same way her brother-in-law Ky did when he cooked for Gemma, all big and burly and…domestic. What would it be like to come home every night to something like that? To a man who loved you enough to take care of you? Who’d kiss away a grueling day and snuggle on the couch to watch movies with you on a rainy Sunday afternoon?
The scenario was one Abby never let herself imagine, knowing full well a lasting relationship wasn’t in the cards for her. She’d watched her mother suffer through her husband’s countless and endless affairs, always promising to remain faithful, then breaking the promise. No one, in Abby’s opinion, should be treated the way her mother had.
When Marty Fields encouraged her to go to law school, she finally saw a path for herself. She’d been unable to help her mother as a child, but she could help other women in the same position Hannah had been in, now, as an adult.
Thinking about Marty sent a cloud of sadness drifting through her.
“Soup’s ready.”
Abby opened her eyes, blinked Rick’s image into focus.
“You zoned out for a bit.” He placed two bowls on the counter. “I figured you needed it. But now you need to eat.”
A quick retort died on her lips. When she shifted, Moonlight’s nails pierced through her skirt. It was then she realized she hadn’t changed out of her daywear like she usually did when she came home.
“This smells great.” Abby reached for the bread. “It’s warm.”
“Why are you so surprised? I do know how to reheat food, Abigail.”
She rolled her eyes at him, then dunked a piece of the bread into the soup and took a bite. Her eyes drifted closed as she sighed at the explosion of herbs and yeast washed over her taste buds. “I love my sister. So much.”
She opened them again at Rick’s smooth snigger.
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
“That hit the spot.” She dropped her spoon on the table after she’d emptied her bowl. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”
“It’s no wonder you had a headache. You skipped breakfast and lunch.”
“I only eat breakfast on the weekends. And I usually get lunch, but today, well.” She shrugged.
“You want any more?” When she shook her head, he stood and took their bowls to the sink.
“I cooked,” he said. “You clean. I’ve some calls to make, and I want to get them done before it gets any later.”
“You reheated,” she said, moving into the kitchen with him. “There’s a difference.”
With a hip resting against the counter, his crossed arms over his chest, Abby had to repress both a giggle at the firm glare he tossed at her and a shudder at how sexy and powerful his pumped arms were.
“Does that look really intimidate people?”
“What look?”
“This one.” She folded her arms, mimicking his posture, dropped her chin a bit then squinched her brows in, glaring at him through half-closed lids. She pursed her lips together and lifted her shoulders.
When his mouth twitched in one corner, a little niggle of awareness tickled low in her belly.
“You missed your calling,” he said, shaking his head. “You should have been an actress.”
“I’m thinking mime, because you know I just nailed you to the wall.”
His grin died at her words.
“What?”
The sudden blare of her cell phone stopped whatever he was about to say.
“It’s Tony,” she told him.
“No sign of Genocardi,” the detective said. “But we’ve got the boy.”
“What? How?” Before he could speak she said, “Wait. I’m going to put you on speaker.”
“The cops found the car, like I told you, at a Walmart. The kid told his old man he had to go to the bathroom. Genocardi did, too. The minute he went into a stall, the kid bolted. Ran back into the store screaming bloody murder. Took a while before anyone paid any attention to him. No security in the store, so the manager called the cops. By the time they got there, no sign of Genocardi.”
“But you’ve got Michael? He’s not hurt?”
“Shaken up and scared, but no signs of any outward abuse. State cops held him for us, gave him something to eat. We’re flying back with him tonight, and I’m gonna take him to see his mother. I wanted to give you a heads-up he’s okay.”
“Was he able to tell you anything about his father? Where they were? If he knows what his father is planning?”
“Reno and me are gonna question him tomorrow. We can’t, legally, now because he’s a minor and we don’t have a parent or a guardian to give us permission. The aunt can stand in for the mom tomorrow.”
“I want to be there, too. Just let me know when.”
“Will do. And don’t worry, Abby. We’ll find this guy.”
After disconnecting, Abby let out a huge sigh. “That’s certainly a relief.”
“For the boy. But Genocardi is still out there, so he’s still a threat to you.”
Abby shook her head. “I disagree. I’m probably the last thing on his mind right now, uppermost would be making sure he’s not caught. There’s no reason to think I’m any kind of blip on his radar.”
She started running the water in the sink to rinse the bowls. Rick reached over her and turned the water off.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I need you to listen to me, and I don’t want you distracted. You need to hear what I’m saying.”
“You do realize how insulting you sound, don’t you, Bannerman? I can do more than one thing at time.”
“I don’t care how I sound, you need to listen. Just because Genocardi’s on the run, it doesn’t mean you’re off his radar. Stop. Let me finish,” he said when she opened her mouth to protest.
Frowning, she mumbled, “Insulting and arrogant.”
Rick took another step closer to her, forcing her to tilt her head back.
“He may have been able to sneak over the border,” Rick said, “but my guess is he didn’t. I’m gonna bet he stays true to form and heads back here to try to get his son. He has to figure the cops are going to bring the boy here, if not to his mother, then to her sister. He may not know his wife is still alive, but he knows her sister is.”
“Do you think he’d try to hurt Maria?”
“Maybe. He wants his boy. Remember, the minute after he attacked his wife, he went for him. If he thinks Maria has his son, assuming he doesn’t know Lila is alive, he may make a play for her. And I’m gonna bet your detective buddy has already realized it. I would if I was him.”
Abby’s stomach threatened to rid itself of the soup. “If that’s true, we have to tell Tony. They need to be protected. All of them. Josh—”
“Already knows. I spoke to him when you were with your clients this afternoon. He’s already placed people, discreetly, at the sister’s home.”
Cold fury replaced the nausea swelling up inside her. “You called Josh? Told him about Genocardi?”
He shook his head. “Lower your voice. I’m standing right next to you.”
She fisted her hands at her sides and dragged in a breath. Her jaw barely moved when she said, “After I specifically asked you not to and you promised me you wouldn’t tell him?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell Kandy.” He shook his head. “Josh is another story.”
; “You’re a moron if you think he didn’t tell her, Bannerman.”
“He didn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Josh doesn’t want her upset any more than you do. I didn’t even have to tell him my concerns about Genocardi. He figured it out before I ever said a word. He was all set to send protection for you.”
“Why didn’t he then??”
“Because I told him I had the situation under control and not to worry.”
“And by situation, you mean me?”
“Calm down, Abigail—”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down.”
He dipped his head, barely an inch, but it brought it almost in contact with her forehead. His eyes narrowed and lasered in on hers.
“Listen to me.” His voice had lowered several notches, and Abby could imagine most people would be terrified by the menacing growl.
Not her. She’d made a career of standing up to men who needed to control everything in their worlds. Ignoring the warning rumble in his tone, anger got the better of her. She unfurled her hands and pushed against his chest with flattened palms.
“No, you listen to me, Bannerman. Let’s get one thing straight. Right now and forever after. You are not responsible for me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing so for a very long time without your help or the help of any man. You. Do. Not. Control. Me. In any way, shape or form. Not now, not ever.”
“God damn it! I never said anything about controlling you.”
“Yes, you did. You told Josh you had the situation under control.”
“Yes. Meaning your protection from a man who may be out to harm you. Christ, Abigail. My job is to see to your well-being, to make sure you’re not harmed, not to control you. Where do you even come up with something like that?”
“It’s the same thing, and you know it. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you around every second, hovering. And stop calling me Abigail.”
For the rest of her life, she’d remember the mortification that rushed through her when she’d stomped her foot with the command.
Something flashed in Rick’s eyes, fast and bright and dangerous. “You are without doubt the most stubborn, pig-headed woman I’ve ever met.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” she spat.
His eyes narrowed to two blackened slits. “You think you can protect yourself from a guy like Genocardi, Abigail?” His voice was even lower than it had been a moment ago. Deeper. Darker. “Because you live in a building where you need to buzz people in, you think he won’t be able to get to you? What about when you’re at work? Or hailing a cab? Or on your way into court? There are a million scenarios I can come up with. A million little ways someone pissed off and determined can get to you. To anyone.”
He shifted, one of his knees sliding between her legs as he moved in even closer.
“When I told Josh I had the situation under control, I meant your safety wasn’t going to be compromised. Not by anyone or anything. Not while I’m around.” His eyes went flat again, his mouth turning hard and determined. “Never while I’m around.”
Abby wasn’t afforded the luxury of a response, because as soon as he put a period on his declaration, his mouth fastened on to hers. His hands moved to cradle her scalp much the way he had when he’d been massaging her headache away. This time though his grip wasn’t calming and soothing; it was possessive and greedy. He held her captive with his hands, his body, his mouth.
Mother of God!
This kiss was different from the one they’d shared at Kandy’s wedding.
Before, mild seduction, light-hearted flirtation, and sexual banter had surrounded them. Plus, she’d been the instigator, knowing she had to do something to get his attention.
This time, she was on the receiving end. Rick had made the first move, and if she wasn’t mistaken, flirtation had nothing to do with it.
Abby tasted frustration and knew it was filled with pent-up desire and sexual heat screaming to be let unleashed. Like a smoldering volcano bubbling up to spew, this frustration needed some kind of release before it detonated.
She slid her hands up to wind around his neck. Rick stepped closer into her, dropped his hands from her head and cupped them around her butt, pulling her up on her toes. Through her clothing she could feel each and every angle of his body as it pressed firmly against her.
Every hard inch of it.
One hand trailed back up over her hip, passed her waist, to the side of her breast. Abby’s breath caught when his fingers skimmed across the puckered, aching peak through her bra. She didn’t think it was possible for her nipples to get any harder, but as soon as his knuckles brushed across the swollen tip, they tingled and pulled, shooting a bullet of need straight down to her pelvis. She arched, giving him full access, and when he pinched the distended nub between his two first fingers, pain and pleasure combined in a hot whirlwind of lust. Her thighs instinctively pressed together against his knee, seeking release, seeking…more.
Rick must have known what he was doing to her, sensed the fury rushing through her at his touch, because he gentled the kiss and glided his lips across her jaw.
“Shhh.” Warm, moist air blew across her skin. He kissed the spot behind her ear and Abby tilted her head to give him total access.
His tongue swept back to her mouth, then tugged at her own like he wanted to devour her whole. A feral moan hummed from deep down inside her. When it vibrated against their joined lips, Rick jerked back just like he had at the wedding. This time, though, he not only looked confused, he looked savage and raw and so damn hot she was thankful to be braced against the sink, because one glance at the desire scorching his eyes drained her of the ability to stand unaided.
Rick tugged his gaze from her face down to where his hands still caressed her body. Slowly, so slowly she held her breath waiting to see what he’d do, he removed them and dropped them to his sides.
With his eyes zeroed in on hers again, Rick took a step back, then another, until there was more than enough room for her to move around him.
“You wanted to call Fields’ wife before it got too late.” His voice shook with the words. He cleared it and added, “You should go call her. Now.” Another step back and his shoulders hit the refrigerator. “I’ve got some work to finish up, so…”
He turned and fled the room.
Abby took a deep breath, slid a hand across her stomach, and gently rubbed the quivering area.
Wow. Just…just, wow.
Chapter Seven
“Thank you so much for coming, Abby.” Mary Fields, dressed from head to toe in somber black, wrapped her arms around Abby and pulled her to a tight hug. “Marty loved you like a daughter.”
“I can’t believe this happened. ”Abby bit back the emotion threatening to break in her voice. “Do the police know anything? Have any leads?”
“None so far.” Mary reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. After dabbing at her eyes, her gaze went from Abby, to Rick.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Fields,” he said. “I didn’t know your husband, but Abby has had nothing by wonderful things to say about him.”
“Well, as I said, Abby was more like one of our children than an employee.” When her name was called, Mary smiled through her tears, hugged Abby again, and whispered, “I hate this. So much.”
Abby patted her back and let her go.
The room was packed with mourners, most of whom Abby recognized as clients, members of the family, and fellow lawyers. Since his body was still held at the city’s morgue, pending the investigation into his death, Mary and her family had decided to hold a memorial service.
“She’s barely hanging on,” Abby said as the woman was engulfed in another pair of arms. “Marty and the kids are her world. I don’t know how she’s going to get through this.”
Rick followed her toward a corner of the room. “It’s been my experience women are much stronger than they’re given credit for.”
Abby squinted at him. “Care to elaborate, Bannerman? Or would that run along the lines of personal revelations, and therefore protected from any social conversation?”
He held out a folding chair for her, waited until she’d sat before sitting himself. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared straight ahead at the mourners.
Abby knew he was annoyed at the cutting question. After spending every waking minute with him for the past three days she’d come to recognize his little personality quirks. The muscle twitching in his cheek was evidence he was pissed but trying to keep his temper in check.
After the kitchen kiss the night before, she’d retreated to her bedroom and locked herself and Moonlight away for the rest of the evening. The impression of Rick’s mouth moving across hers, the intensity and all-consuming nature of the kiss wouldn’t fade no matter how much time she gave herself. In the span of a few minutes, more emotions and feelings had wrung through her system than in the past decade, and every one of them was caused by, and centered on, Rick Bannerman. Why she had to be so completely attracted to the man was beyond her. She should have learned her lesson four years ago but obviously hadn’t. If Rick had taken that amazing kiss further last night, she knew in her heart and soul she wouldn’t have resisted, complained, or tried to stop him. She’d clung to him, molding every inch of her body she could to his, giving him every indication she wanted him.
And he’d wanted her, too. Why he’d pulled back was a mystery. One that had kept her up half the night trying to unravel, and the other half seething at the aborted encounter.
This morning she’d woken in a grumpy, sour mood, one she’d taken out on him throughout the day. A dull headache pulled at her all day long and her throat was sore, but she brushed both off to little rest and a too busy schedule.
Her responses to every question of Rick’s had been clipped and brief, their brevity bordering on outright rude. When he’d politely asked if she wanted a cup of tea before leaving for the office, she’d batted his hand away from the mug he had waiting, telling him he didn’t know how she liked it.
