By Honor Bound

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  “Why didn’t you say so?” He twirled the last of his spaghetti on his fork and sat back with a smile. “Can I help?”

  “No. I can manage.” She pushed away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  When she was gone, Micah’s eyes narrowed in thought. Pru never talked about her family, except in generalizations. It would make things easier if she did. But for now, he would have to play along and pretend to be ignorant of her background.

  Even though he’d given his word to Allen Street, he hated the lies.

  “Here we are.” She set a plate down in front of him and watched his reaction to the brownie, smothered in ice cream and fudge sauce.

  He looked over as she sat across from him. “This is like poison to the arteries. If I eat this, I’ll have to do a hundred push-ups to work it off. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “I’m going to enjoy this with absolutely no guilt.”

  “Fine. As for me, I’m going to have just one taste.” He took a bite and closed his eyes. Then, with a roguish grin, he cleaned his plate before sitting back with a sigh. “Two hundred push-ups. And I’ll curse your name with every one of them.”

  A signal rang in the kitchen.

  Pru started to get up. “That’s the coffee.”

  “I’ll get it. I need the exercise.” He touched a hand to her shoulder and hurried away.

  When he was gone, she sat very still, feeling the warmth of his touch. It had been so long since he’d touched her. That thought rankled.

  She wanted him to. Wanted him to kiss her the way he had that day in the garden. But ever since then, he seemed to be holding her at a distance.

  She’d thought at first it was her imagination. But as the days had gone on, she’d had to accept the fact that his withdrawal was deliberate.

  “Here we are.”

  As he returned with the coffee, Pru took several deep breaths and forced herself to relax. After all, the evening wasn’t over yet. And she intended to do everything in her power to get him to kiss her before he left. Even if it meant throwing herself at him like some sort of silly, love-struck teen.

  Chapter 8

  As she sipped her coffee, Pru studied Micah by the light of the flickering candles. He was such a contradiction. She couldn’t figure him out. He had that wonderful Irish humor that could make her laugh no matter what her mood. And yet she sensed a darkness in him as well. A private, mysterious place inside him where she was never allowed to go.

  He seemed absolutely fearless. Almost reckless. He reminded her of a magnificent wild creature. One that would survive the most impossible odds. And yet, on those rare occasions when he’d let down his guard, she thought she’d detected pain. A wound, perhaps to his heart. It was her nature to want to soothe, to help in some way, but she didn’t know how. She hated this timid streak in her that kept her from reaching out. Though she’d made great strides, she knew she still had a long way to go.

  Micah glanced over. “You’re quiet tonight.”

  Her head came up. “Am I?”

  He finished his coffee and glanced at the clock. “I should go.”

  “Not yet.” Pru’s protest was a little too sharp. When he looked at her she flushed and added in a softer tone, “The garden is so pretty this time of night. And we both need to walk off those calories. Walk with me, Micah.”

  “All right. Good idea.”

  She led the way to the French doors and unlocked them before stepping out into the warm spring air. Micah trailed behind, his narrowed gaze sweeping the shadows before falling into step beside her.

  She paused. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Look around so carefully before taking a step.”

  “It goes with the territory, I guess.” He reminded himself that he’d have to be more careful. Pru was a lot more observant than he’d realized.

  “I suppose security people are much like police detectives. They see the seamy side of life that the rest of us aren’t exposed to.” She glanced over. “Doesn’t that make it harder to enjoy your life?”

  “Not necessarily. It certainly makes us more cautious. But maybe, after seeing how fragile life can be, it also makes us more eager to reach out and grab what pleasure we can from this life before it’s snatched away.”

  “Is that your motto?” She paused to brush her hand over the ornamental scrollwork on a garden sculpture. “Seize the moment?”

  “Not exactly. I guess it’s more like seize the criminal before he seizes me.” The look on her face had him chuckling. “Just teasing.”

  He lifted a finger to her cheek before he’d had time to think. Bad idea, he realized. Touching her always affected him.

  Before he could do any more damage, he deliberately lowered his hand to his side, where he clenched it into a fist. “Then, when my job’s finished, I’ll think about seizing whatever pleasure is left.”

  “So, the job always comes first?”

  “That’s right.”

  Pru paused beside a fountain where water spilled from a small basin into a larger one. Micah studied the way she looked in profile, with moonlight in her hair. Like an angel that had just dropped down from heaven. There was such sweetness in her. She was, without a doubt, one of life’s gentle creatures. Right now, watching her, he had to agree with her father’s decision. Pru deserved the freedom to pursue whatever lifestyle she wanted, without the added burden of fear.

  “What frightens you the most, Pru?”

  She seemed startled by the question. After a moment of silence, she said, “Storms.”

  “Storms?”

  She nodded. “Thunder and lightning. One of my earliest memories is climbing up on my mother’s lap and crying during a storm. I felt safe with her. Secure. Then, after she was…gone, our housekeeper found me huddled in her closet during a storm, wrapped in one of her dresses. I remember being carried kicking and screaming to my father, who couldn’t understand why I could be afraid of a simple summer storm. But shortly after that he decided to hire a tutor and keep me out of school. After that, my world seemed to shrink more and more until all it consisted of was my father and my home, and our small circle of friends.”

  “How old were you when your mother died?”

  “Three.”

  “And your father never married again?”

  She shook her head. “He said his job and his daughter were all he needed.”

  “And now?”

  She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “I hated leaving him, knowing he’d be all alone. But I had to get away or be suffocated.”

  They walked in silence for several minutes. It occurred to Micah that this was the most she’d ever told him about herself. Though he’d known about her mother’s untimely death, he never would have guessed her fear of storms.

  Pru glanced over. “Margot Jamison seemed quite impressed with the improvements you’ve made in security at the Children’s Village.”

  “I just tightened things a bit.”

  “She said you did everything free of charge.”

  “It wouldn’t be right to charge a charity.”

  “They have a budget for such things.”

  He shrugged. “I feel better knowing they’ll use the money for something else. Besides, I took a lot of liberties, adding things just to satisfy my own sense of security.”

  “Isn’t it a coincidence that Margot happened to call you so soon after you moved in next to me?”

  “Yeah.” He paused along the path to study a section of the garden devoted to roses. “These are really beautiful. What’re they called?”

  She touched a hand to the bright red blossoms. “Daredevils. A hybrid climber that’s ever blooming. They make a spectacular display.”

  “And this?” He cupped a tall bloom and breathed in the perfume.

  “Night Magic.” It occurred to Pru that he had once again cleverly manipulated the conversation away from himself. Not that she minded. Sh
e never tired of talking about the flowers in her garden. Still, it had been an almost seamless move on his part. As though he’d had plenty of experience changing directions whenever anyone got too close.

  “It smells like you.” In the stillness of the night his voice seemed even deeper, sending shivers along her spine.

  “Thank you.” She stopped beside him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “That’s how it was meant.” When he straightened, their shoulders brushed.

  She smiled before taking his arm. “Over here I’ve planted a border of bocovia. As it grows it will spill over the stone retaining wall in a cascade of white starflowers and deep green ivy. It makes a really spectacular display.”

  He wasn’t really listening to what she was saying. It was, he realized, just enough to hear that soft, throaty voice whispering over his senses. To have her arm linked with his, their shoulders and hips brushing as they walked. It was the sweetest torture of his life to be this close, to be nearly overcome with the need to taste, to touch, to take, and to know that he was duty-bound to resist.

  “I was thinking of adding a bed of begonias here. They have the loveliest jewel-tone blossoms that seem to just shimmer in sunlight.” She looked up expectantly. “What do you think?”

  For the space of a heartbeat he didn’t say a word as he stared at her mouth, curved into the most appealing smile.

  “Micah?” Her smile deepened and she touched a finger to the frown line between his eyebrows. “Where are you?”

  “Somewhere I shouldn’t be.” His tone was curt. “I think it’s time we went inside.”

  “All right.” Pru moved along beside him, matching his impatient strides.

  Her heart was racing, and her throat had gone dry. He’d wanted to kiss her. But something had stopped him.

  Was she sending mixed signals? Did he somehow think she didn’t want him? If so, she intended to set him straight. Starting tonight.

  As they opened the French doors and stepped into her apartment, she glanced at the clock on the mantel and caught sight of his bouquet. “I loved the flowers, Micah. And the walk in the garden.”

  “I’m glad. Though they were little enough payment for dinner.” He started toward the foyer, with Pru trailing behind.

  At the door he paused to give her a smile. “Thanks, Pru. It’s been a great evening.”

  She deliberately planted herself in front of the door. Though her heart was pounding, she was determined to stand her ground. No more timid mouse for her. It was time to go after what she wanted. She touched a hand to his. “It doesn’t have to end yet, Micah.”

  He couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d stripped naked. He could feel himself sweating. “I wish I could stay but…”

  “You strike me as a man who does exactly as he pleases.” She ran her fingers up his arm as she inched closer, until their bodies were brushing.

  He closed his eyes a moment as feelings rocketed through him. How the hell was he supposed to gracefully extract himself from this?

  What a mess. The very thing he wanted most was the thing he couldn’t have. Not if he hoped to do the job he’d been hired to do.

  Though it would be forced, he decided to try for humor. “Are you trying to seduce me, Pru?”

  “And what if I am?”

  “You don’t know anything about me. For all you know, I could be a mass murderer who likes to take his victims to bed before carving them into little pieces.”

  Instead of backing off, she laughed as she curled her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. “I can see that you’ve been working in security too long, Micah Lassiter. You’re starting to sound like one of those television tabloid teasers during ratings sweeps season.”

  “All right.” When had the shrinking violet become this bold femme fatale? However it had happened, she was having the desired effect on him. He was fully aroused. And if he didn’t get out of here quickly, there was no telling how the evening would end.

  He reached up and slowly, deliberately, removed her arms from around his neck. Then, before she could reach for him again, he caught her roughly by the shoulders and held her a little away.

  “Sex isn’t a game I take lightly.” His eyes were hot and fierce.

  “And you think I do?” For a moment she felt a wave of humiliation and lowered her head, refusing to meet his look. Then, as embarrassment gave way to anger, she shook off his touch and took a step back, tossing her head. “If you knew anything about me, Micah Lassiter, you’d know that I don’t rush into things without thinking them through. I thought…” She blinked, afraid for a moment her temper was so great she might embarrass herself by crying. “I thought I knew you. I thought you wanted what I wanted.”

  “You don’t know me, Pru.” His voice was rough with passion. “You only think you do. You think because I enjoy pasta and walks in the garden, that I’ll be this perfect gentleman who returns your kisses with a few chaste kisses of my own. Maybe you’ve imagined that we’ll even have a nice tumble in bed, and then I’ll go my merry way and you’ll go yours.” His tone lowered. “If you knew what I really wanted, you’d be so shocked you’d order me out of your apartment and never let me inside again.”

  She squared her shoulders. “I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to frighten me.”

  “Am I?” Without thinking, his hand snaked out, closing around her wrist.

  She jerked back but he snagged her other wrist, imprisoning her without even a struggle. Keeping his eyes steady on hers, he dragged her into his arms and crushed her mouth beneath his. Heat poured between them. A raging inferno that had them diving fully into the kiss and taking all they could.

  They were both gasping for air when he finally lifted his head. But instead of releasing her, he kissed her again with such passion, he drove her back against the wall, pinning her there with his body. And all the while his mouth savaged hers, and his free hand moved over her, touching her at will.

  She was so soft. So small. So perfect. And he wanted, with every fiber of his being, to take her here and now.

  “Micah.” At her little cry he lifted his head and released her wrists.

  Then, feeling remorse, he touched a fingertip to her mouth. Just a touch, but it was enough to have him murmuring an apology as he brushed his lips ever so lightly over hers.

  “I’m sorry, Pru. I wanted to…” The words ended in a growl as he took the kiss deeper.

  All his good intentions fled as the kiss softened and seemed to go on and on, spinning entirely out of control. “I wanted to show you the real me. And to be honest, I wanted to frighten you.”

  “You did.”

  “And now?” His mind clouded over as his hands moved along her spine, igniting fires everywhere.

  “Now I’m terrified.” She made a low moaning sound in her throat and clutched at his waist, afraid that at any moment her knees would buckle and she would slip to the floor.

  “Me, too.” He had to get out of here. Had to. Because if he didn’t make good his escape right this minute, there would be no turning back.

  He brought his hands to her upper arms and drew her away. For a minute he merely held her there while he dragged air into his starving lungs. He could see the way she was struggling for breath.

  At last he found his voice. “I’m going now. We’ll both have clearer heads in the morning.”

  “Is that what you think, Micah?”

  He turned away, unable to bear the look in her eyes. “Lock your door, Pru. And engage your alarm.”

  He yanked open the door and pulled it shut behind him, then waited until he heard the click of the dead bolt.

  As he entered Professor Loring’s apartment, he glanced at the decanter of aged whiskey on a sideboard.

  He wasn’t much of a drinking man. But tonight he was about to make an exception.

  Chapter 9

  “Look at him.” Margot Jamison stood by the window in Pru’s tiny office and watched as Micah examined
the newly installed cameras in the parking area. “As my thirteen-year-old daughter would say, talk about your major hunk.”

  “Really?” Pru was still reeling from that scene with Micah the night before, and determined not to dwell on it. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Margot laughed. “If that’s true, you need an eye exam.” She continued watching him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as thorough as Micah Lassiter. Not that I’m surprised. Knowing his family, I’d expect nothing less.”

  Pru looked up from her computer monitor. “What about his family?”

  Margot leaned a hip against the file cabinet. “Folks who live around here know all about them. His father was a decorated police officer when he was gunned down in the line of duty.”

  Pru carefully folded her hands in her lap. “He never mentioned it.”

  “I guess it’s not something a man would talk about. Especially a man like Micah Lassiter.” She glanced beyond Pru to her computer monitor. “You’ve got an e-mail.”

  Pru typed a prompt to open her mail. As soon as she began scanning it, she made a sound of surprise.

  “What is it?” Margot moved closer, reading over Pru’s shoulder.

  The words seemed to leap out at her.

  Now I’ve found you, little lamb. Prepare to be sacrificed for the sins of your father.

  Pru shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense. It must be a prank.”

  When she made a move to delete the message, Margot clamped a hand over her wrist. “Wait a minute. Leave it alone. I want Micah to take a look at this.”

  “Micah? Why?”

  “Because,” Margot turned to the door, “in his line of work, he’d know whether it’s a joke or a threat. I’ll be right back.”

  When she was gone, Pru read the e-mail again. This time as she read each word she felt a tingling at the back of her neck. If the note was meant as a prank, it was having the desired effect. It was positively creepy.

  Within minutes Margot was back with Micah.

  He showed no emotion as he read the words on the screen. His tone was equally flat. “I want you to print out a copy of this, and then keep this post as new mail until I can have someone here to read and evaluate it.”