“No, it sounds like a good idea. And it’ll give our guy a chance to take a turn around the house.”
Neither knew what a good idea it was until they stepped through the door—and discovered the house had been trashed. Apparently quite recently. As they entered by the front door, they heard footsteps running out the back. By the time their police escort had tripped his way through the pots and pans tossed around Daisy’s dark kitchen, a speedy runabout was making its way down the inlet past her neighbor’s dock, Even though it looked hopeless, the corporal gave chase out the back door.
“That does it,” Temple said to Daisy. “I’m sending you and Rebecca to stay with my mother where you’ll be safe.”
“Safe? Where this whole thing started? Anyway, I’m not yours to send.“
But the dark fires that smoldered in his eyes said differently.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I’M NOT TRYING to flex muscle, Daisy. I’m worried about you and Rebecca. We can’t even see to clean up the mess those scavengers made until daylight. Please, humor me just this once. Let’s go to a hotel for tonight.”
Daisy studied his drawn features in the light of the flashlight beam. She saw the concern he’d voiced. Not the macho I’m-right-because-I’m-a-man reasoning so freely employed by the men who worked the docks. Real consideration.
“All right,” she said, shocking him. “Let me go upstairs and pack a few things for each of us.” She hitched Becca higher on her hip and started up the stairs.
“Daisy, wait. Will I offend you if I ask you to let Corporal Phillips give the upper floor a once-over first?”
She glanced toward the dark landing above. “I’m independent, Wyatt. Not stupid. Where is he, do you suppose? Not only that, where’re Pipsqueak and Troublemaker? I left them inside this morning. They always come running to be fed when I get home this late.”
“You’re right. I haven’t seen or heard them since we walked in.” Temple tried not to look alarmed.
Corporal Randy Phillips burst in through the front door, startling everyone who’d seen him leave by the back. Sheathing his weapon, he said grimly, “Saw two goons in a speedboat. Decided chasing ‘em was no use, and I’d be smarter to come back and radio the Coast Guard. They suggest you folks stay someplace else tonight.”
“We were just discussing that.” Temple straightened his sling. Unconsciously he massaged his aching elbow. “Daisy’s going to gather some things from upstairs. Would you go with her? I’ll take another turn around outside. Her pets haven’t shown up. They may be hiding in the bushes.”
The officer frowned. “I rattled the bushes, looking for lingerers. Didn’t see so much as a mouse.” He turned to Daisy. “Why don’t you leave the little girl on the couch down here? She must be getting heavy.”
Daisy shook her head. “We’re fine.” She smiled into Rebecca’s sleep-slack face. “I like to keep her close in case she wakes up. Kids need to feel secure.”
Temple felt his heart leap. Again he marveled at Daisy’s protective attitude toward his child. She’d once said she didn’t have much experience with kids, when in fact she was a natural. He could imagine her with a whole flock of her own children. Their children. It was a cozy picture. Far from the reality of their lives. He heaved a sigh. Maybe things were coming to a head, and that reality would change.
She bobbed the flashlight beam toward his face. “Are you okay, Temple? Why don’t you sit? I’ll check outside after I throw some clothes in a bag.”
“No.” There wasn’t a heartbeat between her words and his reply. His feelings for her still gripped him. Feelings so strong that he snapped when he didn’t mean to. “You just don’t get it, do you, Daisy? This isn’t some storybook lark. These guys are playing for keeps.”
“I never thought it was a lark,” she said quietly. Too quietly. She spun on her heel and marched up the stairs. On the landing, she turned and picked him out with her flashlight beam. “I didn’t get shot like you did, Temple. My flesh didn’t bleed. But I saw that yacht. I see it and your daughter’s terror in my dreams five nights out of seven. Don’t you ever suggest again that I take any of this lightly. Never. Do you understand?”
“God, Daisy, I’m sorry.” Temple raised his good hand beseechingly. It was too late, however. She’d turned away again and melted into the darkness above. “Go with her, Corporal,” he begged.
“Okay, sir,” returned the young officer. “It’s funny— these are the times we think women need a soft touch, yet they’re the tough ones and men draw into themselves. I see it all the time.” Leaving Temple with that bit of wisdom, he, too, was swallowed by the yawning blackness above.
Temple digested the corporal’s words. He hated that a kid nearly half his age had to point out something so obvious. Uttering a sharp oath, Temple stalked outside, determined to find Daisy’s animals.
As the corporal said, the bushes revealed nothing. Farther afield, Temple at last saw the glow of a pair of small eyes peering out from beneath Daisy’s neighbor’s beached rowboat. “Here, kitty kitty,” he called softly, not wanting to get shot again should he be mistaken for a burglar. But the black cat didn’t seem to care about Temple’s situation. Belly to the ground, the rascal slunk out from beneath the boat, raced a few feet along the fence, then disappeared beneath it. “Dammit, Troublemaker,” Temple muttered. Beyond in the velvety night there was a whish and a thunk. Suddenly the cat blinked complacently at him from atop the neighbor’s porch railing. Temple swore again and eased open the wroughtiron gate. The squeak was so loud it gave him pause. He was certain that any minute lights would pop on all over the house and he’d be facing doddering old Mr. Jessup’s unsteady shotgun.
Would wonders never cease? His luck held long enough for him to creep up on the cat. Then, one-handed as he was, Temple faced the problem of what to do with his flashlight. Heartened by the fact that the animal had started to purr, Temple doused the beam, tucked the flashlight into his sling and then lunged. “Gotcha,” he whispered triumphantly as he grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck. The surprised animal let out a yowl and a hiss, but Temple didn’t care. He lost no time skedaddling from Jessup’s yard. Once he made it safely back inside Daisy’s yard, he didn’t know if he had energy even for her to repeat this exercise with her dog. In spite of the sling, his injured arm was beginning to throb fiercely.
Lucky for him, Daisy had found Pipsqueak upstairs. “They locked the poor little guy in my closet,” she told Temple when once again everyone met in the littered kitchen. “Which was why we didn’t hear him bark. This house has good insulation.”
Temple placed the cat in front of his water bowl, knelt and scratched him idly behind the ears. “What are we going to do with them tonight? Although I don’t think our hoodlums will make another pass through here, do you, Corporal?”
The policeman turned from lighting the second of two lanterns he’d salvaged from among the debris. “Even if they do, I’ll be here. And I’ll look out for the pets. You two go get some rest. Looks to me like you’ve got a full day of cleanup around here tomorrow.”
“Upstairs, too?” Temple stood and leveled a questioning glance at Daisy.
Still holding Rebecca, Daisy shifted. She didn’t want to tell him. “We brought your laptop computer downstairs, Temple. I’m afraid they ruined your PC and fax.”
“Those bastards.” Temple dragged a shaking hand through his already rumpled hair. “I’d like to meet up with them in a dark alley.”
“Don’t even joke about it,” Daisy said, lips pursed. “Ruffians like that have no conscience.”
“You should see what they did to her room,” the young policeman murmured in an aside to Temple. “Senseless wanton destruction.”
“Daisy, no! Not your grandfather’s ship models.” Temple crooked a finger and lifted her chin so that he could look her in the eye. “What did they wreck?”
Her chin trembled. Tears clouded her whiskey-colored irises. “Things,” she said bravely, although her voic
e broke. “Could we go now?” She pulled away. “I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. I’m sure it won’t look half so bad in daylight.”
Humbled, because he knew how much she loved those ships, and angry, because their destruction was so pointless, Temple vowed to make the unknown assailants pay. “I’ll call the hotel,” he said, “if Corporal Phillips will help you load our bags in the car.” The officer agreed, and also radioed for another police car to drop by and follow them to the hotel. Soon, Temple, Daisy and Rebecca were on their way to a quiet beach hotel. If they needed any reminder that they weren’t headed on a fun outing, they only had to look behind them at their police escort.
As if Daisy’s day hadn’t already gone from bad to worse, it turned out she was acquainted with the night manager and both desk clerks. One of them, Doreen Yarnell, was a former high school classmate. The worst gossip in town, next to Jana Jefferies. And now Doreen showed an inordinate amount of interest in the fact that Daisy was checking in late at night with a man. A gorgeous man.
Doreen fairly simpered when she informed Temple the three-bedroom suite he’d requested—the one he’d rented with his attorneys—was occupied. The only suite they had left was smaller. Two bedrooms.
“Daisy?” Turning, Temple gave her the option to stay or go.
She saw the tired lines around his eyes that probably meant he was running on reserve. “I’ll bunk with Becca,” she stated firmly, though she doubted if even that proclamation would deter Doreen’s wagging tongue.
Nodding, Temple turned back and picked up the pen. It wasn’t easy digging out his wallet and credit card one-handed.
Doreen remarked at least three times on his bloody bandage as she waited for the computer to spit out its approvals and verifications.
The snoop was hoping for juicy news to spread, Daisy thought sourly. She was extremely glad that Temple didn’t offer even a shred. Let Doreen and her colleagues theorize. Daisy felt all eyes boring into her back as she fell in behind the bellboy, whose surreptitious glances and little smirks did not escape Daisy’s notice.
Temple excused himself for a moment to go tell their police escort what room they’d be in. Daisy thought she was the only one who noticed the bellboy’s attitude, but right after Temple had tipped the man and closed him out of the suite, she knew better.
“Tongues are wagging already. I’m sorry, Daisy,” he said, poking his head briefly into the two side bedrooms, “You called it right. I’m afraid we’re about to be served up over-easy for tomorrow’s breakfast all around town. If they were my employees, they’d be replaced.”
She shook her head. “In order of importance—what with you getting shot and those goons trashing my house—Doreen’s twitty little scandalmongering is the least of my worries.” She paused in the center of the room and looked around with interest. “Wow, these are nice digs. I had no idea. You know, I’ve never stayed in a hotel before.”
“Never?” Temple turned from his cursory inspection of one of the bedrooms.
Daisy shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Which bedroom do I get?”
“I should give you the bigger one. It has the better view, I’m sure. But it also has double doors leading out to a balcony. Not that our police buddies aren’t attentive, but they said themselves that hotels aren’t the most secure places in the world.”
She gazed at him a moment, appreciating that, tired as he was, his first thought had been for her safety. “What’s an ocean view? I see it every day of my life What I’d really rather do is order something from room service. I’ve always imagined doing that. Except I sort of thought I’d be on my honeymoon—all dressed in flowing chiffon.” She blushed then. “I mean, I never expected that during my big hotel debut, I’d be sleeping with a restless fiveyear-old.” She laughed then and went to claim the small bedroom, unaware that Temple stood, his eyes making a somber survey of her back. He just couldn’t picture her in yards of chiffon. Form-fitting satin with little straps maybe. Some hot shocking color would suit her—and him.
“Both beds are queens,” he muttered as she turned, caught his gaze making a leisure stroll up her body and gave him a quizzical look.
“On second thought,” he said, “you take the bigger room. We’re twenty floors up. Those guys would have to be related to Spiderman to scale the walls.”
“This room will do fine. Don’t think you have to treat me special, Wyatt, just because this is my first time in a ritzy hotel.”
“You are special, Daisy,” Temple said gravely. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”
Their eyes locked for several gentle moments. Then Daisy grew uncomfortable and cleared her throat. “I, um, Becca’s getting heavy. I think I’ll put her down.”
“By all means.” Temple sounded flustered, too, as he reached around her and snapped on the light in the smaller room. A bright peachy glow bathed the bed. Daisy hurried past him with a quiet thanks.
“I’ll call room service,” he offered. “What sounds good?”
She glanced up from smoothing a hand through Becca’s tangled ringlets. “You won’t laugh?”
Temple shook his head, laughter the last thing on his mind.
“I have a yen for breakfast,” she said. “Something simple. Is that possible?”
“This is a five-star hotel. Anything is possible. Or at least it would be in a Wyatt hotel.”
“Maybe I’ll visit one of your resorts someday,” she said lightly.
“Anytime. Tomorrow.” His tone wasn’t casual even though he leaned casually against her doorframe. “I’m dead serious about sending you and Rebecca to San Francisco until the police smoke out our shooters. I suggested you stay at Mother’s because San Francisco can be overwhelming to someone who’s never been there. But you could as easily stay at my penthouse.”
The whole time he spoke, Daisy eased Becca into a frilly nightgown. She also shook her head repeatedly. “A penthouse with a housekeeper. Me? Temple, I wouldn’t know how to act. I’ve never even flown in an airplane before. The farthest I’ve been from Galveston is the time my sister had a baby and I drove to New Orleans to help out around the house—as her housekeeper. Get the picture?”
Temple didn’t like the tone of their conversation. She seemed to be pointing out their differences to distance herself from him. “It’s nothing we have to decide tonight, Daisy.” He switched gears. “Now what about French toast? Eggs? If I recall, the chef here makes a good Spanish omelet.”
“Anything,” she said. “And order Becca a pancake sandwich, why don’t you? She barely took two bites of her burger earlier at the police station. She likes pancakes and eggs, and I don’t mind waking her to eat, do you?”
“Did you hear me ask Dr. Rankin why she sleeps so much?”
“Yes. I understood him to say we should force her to keep regular hours.”
Temple’s troubled gaze lingered on his daughter’s face. “He said sleep is another avenue of escape. Yet, when I think how frightened she must have been, I’m not sure I want her remembering.”
Daisy reached over and turned the lamp down to a soft glow. “Of course you want her to remember, Temple,” she chided. “She has to remember to get well. And she will get well.” Daisy stood. She met him at the door, the certainty of her words written in the stubborn set of her jaw.
“You’re right. As usual.” Straightening away from the casing, Temple brushed his knuckles across Daisy’s determined chin. “What makes you so wise?”
A slight flush stole deliciously along her neck. Her eyes, no longer serious, softened and centered on Temple’s lips.
He first leaned toward her, then drew back. From the moment he realized those thugs were after the Lazy Daisy, he’d wanted to gather her close and keep her safe from any and all who’d bring her harm. But she’d been so prickly about coming to a hotel with him he didn’t want her to think he was trying to take advantage. “I’ll make that call to room service. What would you like to drink?”
A mischi
evous chuckle followed him to the phone. “I’d like champagne to round out my honeymoon illusion,” she said, slipping around him to walk over and flop tiredly on the flowered couch. “But I’ll settle for tea. Bergamot, if they’ve got it.”
Her request swirled around inside Temple’s head. He wouldn’t have guessed she’d be the champagne type. Or had he lost touch with the romantic gestures that pleased a woman? Perhaps it had simply been too long since he’d found any woman he wanted to please.
Temple suddenly knew he wanted to please Daisy Sloan. “If it’s champagne you want, madam, it’s champagne you shall have.” He punched the button on the phone with a flourish and ordered before she could tell him no—which she did.
“I was kidding,” Daisy sputtered throughout his brief conversation. “Can’t you just imagine? Doreen’ll take out a billboard uptown if she finds out they’ve delivered champagne to me. To us. Brother!”
“Relax. She won’t know. I ordered a carafe of mimosas, instead.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Champagne mixed with orange juice. It goes well with breakfast. And it fools nosy people like Doreen. Not that you should live your life worrying about the Doreens of the world.”
She stared at him a moment, all manner of wonderfully illicit visions running through her head. “You’re absolutely right. Now who’s wise?” She laughed, scooting over as he lowered himself beside her on the couch.
“But I hope you’ll pardon my saying I can’t figure you out. In some ways you thumb your nose at convention while in other ways you’re almost Victorian.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the same with Galveston, you know.”
“So it is. And definitely part of its charm.”
Daisy sprang from the couch, made uneasy by the way his eyes roamed over her. “If it’ll be a while till our food’s delivered, I think I’ll freshen up.”
“Go ahead.” Leaning back, he closed his eyes.
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