Was a second set of footsteps following her? Her stride increased. Tension crept up her spine. Grace ran a hand through her hair and ever-so-casually glanced over her shoulder. The usually well-lit garage space seemed shadowy and dark, but she didn’t see anyone.
She picked up her pace until she was jogging, grateful when she spotted the elevator. So close. She was being silly, but she didn’t care. Oh, freak. The echo no longer matched her footsteps. She glanced back again. A tall guy with sandy hair was a few parking spots back and rapidly closing the distance.
Her heart jumped into her throat. The elevator doors opened. Laughter spilled out, along with three men and a woman.
Grace slowed to a more normal walk, swallowed hard and turned. The man had disappeared. Exchanging smiles with the group, she slipped onto the elevator in their wake and repeatedly pressed the door-close button until they finally obliged. She sagged against the brass railing and pressed trembling fingers to her mouth.
He could’ve been anyone, going to one of the many businesses in the high-rise. But there was the whole disappearing thing. Maybe he had dropped something and bent to pick it up. Or any number of things, really.
The elevator arrived at her floor. She stepped off and nearly ran into Luke.
He steadied her with his hands on her upper arms and winked. “Hey, Grace. Final day in the long haul. You’re here bright and early.”
“Ten minutes isn’t exactly early.”
“I figure anything above and beyond is early.” He grinned. “Too early. You know me.”
“Yeah.”
Luke fell into step beside her as she headed for her office. “So, what are your plans for the weekend?”
No force on earth could have stopped her smile.
Luke stopped walking.
She turned. “What?”
“That’s my question. I have never seen that particular smile on your face.”
She cleared her throat and glanced away. Fiddled with her purse strap. Shrugged. “You know. Just…looking forward to the time off.”
Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Ri-i-i-ight. Uh-huh. And I’m Lex Luther.”
Grinning, she held out her hand. “Hello, Lex. I’m Grace Debry.”
He grasped her hand and tugged her forward until they stood uncomfortably close. “Funny, Grace. What’s going on?”
“Luke.” She yanked her hand free. “Respect the bubble, bud.” She spun on the ball of her foot and started walking.
“Come on. I’m curious.”
Finally reaching the relative safety of her office, she plopped into her chair and crossed her arms. Her belly roiled with acid. Maybe coffee had been a bad idea. “Grace. I’m sorry, okay?” Luke knelt beside her, maintaining a careful distance. He gestured to the empty air between them. “See? I’m a fast learner. Personal bubble respected. Forgive me?”
“If I have to.” She rolled her eyes. Like she could stay mad when he pulled those puppy- dog eyes and brown-nosed so beautifully.
“So. What are you doing this weekend?”
“Oh my word.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m looking forward to relaxing, like I said. I have big plans to pamper myself.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “I may even give myself a pedicure. Exciting, isn’t it?”
A cocked brow relayed his skepticism loud and clear. Too bad. What she had planned was none of his business. Not now, not ever. It wasn’t like she went around poking her nose into his personal business, demanding to know how he spent his time away from work. Like she wanted to know. Ick.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Pulling a very believable pout, Luke rose to his full height and scowled at her. “Keep your precious secrets.”
“Thank you, dahling, I will.” A big, toothy grin and fluttery lashes accompanied her statement. Luke’s lips twitched.
“What-ev.” Luke walked out.
Grace shook her head. So typical of him.
By late afternoon, she was nearly crawling out of her skin. She was certain the clock was broken. Exasperated, she stood. Maybe a loop around the floor would settle her. Two more hours until she could leave—she’d go insane at this rate.
Her phone rang before she made her escape. She cocked a hip on the desk and answered.
“Grace?” a soft female voice enquired. “Grace Debry?”
“This is she.”
“The same Grace Debry who used to live with the Wells in Indiana?”
Straightening, Grace frowned. “Who is this?”
“You probably don’t remember me, dear. This is Mrs. Growsky from next door. You used to come over and help with my flower beds.”
“Of course I remember! How are you? Is everything okay? How did you find me? Oh, Mr. Wells has my information. How are you?”
She had fond memories of Mrs. Growsky. Hot summer days and warm fragrant dirt between her fingers. She had relaxed and shared thoughts she never would have dared otherwise. Mrs. Growsky had been a wonderful confidante and encouraging mentor during her high-school years. “Oh, I’m fine. How are you?”
“Great. My job here is great, I love my place and I have wonderful neighbors.” She had wanted to keep in touch, but knew better. When Laura died, she’d severed ties.
Mrs. Growsky calling out of the blue tightened her stomach.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling. To tell you the truth, I debated long and hard about this. I’ve had your new phone number and address for ages, you know. I knew you were uncomfortable with me asking to stay in contact, but I wanted to know you were doing okay after you left.”
Grace furiously blinked back tears. Of course, Matt chose that moment to walk through her door. One look at her face and he shut the door behind him, frowning. He reached for the phone. Unable to speak over the emotion clogging her throat, she shook her head. He sat on the edge of a chair. All this time, Laura’s neighbor had watched over her.
Mrs. Growsky sighed. “Some strange things have been going on. Since they seem to involve you, I had to warn you.”
Warm fuzzies banished to Neverland, Grace’s nerves tightened again. “Warn me?”
“Yes, dear. I’m sorry to alarm you, but … Well …”
“Please. Just tell me.”
“Darrell Wells was murdered last week.”
“What?” Her gaze flew to Matt. He was by her side in an instant. He tried to take the phone from her, but she jerked free and very carefully lowered herself into her chair.
“Well, he was actually murdered about a week earlier, but no one discovered the poor man until that nice sheriff came along.” She hmm’d softly. “Where did he say he was from?”
“Why would anyone want to hurt Mr. Wells? He kept to himself to such an extent he was practically a hermit. Without Laura around, he probably became exactly that. What happened?”
“I don’t know, dear. Several people have been asking about you, though.”
She dropped her head to the desk, vaguely aware of Matt rubbing her back and murmuring…something. Oh, he still wanted the phone.
“What?” Her brain felt fuzzy.
“A man came by two weeks ago. Last I saw, he was headed to the Wells’ house.”
“Looking for me?” she repeated faintly.
“Yes. Then, a little over a week later, that nice sheriff stopped by. He asked about you too. He showed me a picture of your mother. My goodness, you’re her spitting image. I knew right away he was talking about you.”
Goosebumps chased one another across her skin. “He had a picture of my mother?”
She’d never seen a picture of her mother. The foster-system workers had explained there’d been nothing with her when she was brought to them. Yet some stranger had a photo. Of her mother. She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around that.
“She was beautiful. What a shame she died so young. You really are her mirror image, dear. I could have been looking at a photo of you. Of course, I knew it wasn’t you because the photo was old and worn. The clothing styles weren’t right either. And h
er hair, my goodness. No, I can’t imagine you doing that to your beautiful hair. All those glorious curls, and your mother chopped them so short.” She tsked. “A crime, that’s what it is. You’re still wearing yours long, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Growsky had always rambled. Not that she was going to complain when she was rambling about a mother Grace had never laid eyes on. At least, not that she could recall. Obviously, she’d seen her as an infant. Now she was rambling. In her thoughts. Which seemed worse, somehow. She shook off some of the numbness.
“Do the police have any leads on Mr. Wells’ murder?”
“I couldn’t say. They wouldn’t talk about that with me. They interviewed me about the man who’d been by a few weeks ago. I cooperated, I assure you. Told them everything I could remember about him and what we talked about.”
“I’m sure you were very helpful. Would you mind telling me?”
“Of course, dear. I rather thought you’d like to know, seeing as how he asked about you. I even wrote down all the details. Let’s see. Where did I put it?” Paper rustled. “He was a tall man, taller than my Lawrence was, making him over six feet, I would guess. Shaggy dark-blonde hair, which I know for a fact he colors. He was in his fifties. No man his age would still have blonde hair.” Her little sniff of disapproval brought an unwitting smile. “Blue eyes and a strong nose. Had an athletic build too. One of those men who played some sport when he was younger and kept active as he aged. My Lawrence was like that, you know.”
Grace was peripherally aware of Matt staring at her. She wrapped the phone cord around her finger. “I do remember you telling me that. What else do you remember? What did he want to know?”
“Well, I can tell you, I didn’t like him. Despite his movie-star good looks, something was off, if you know what I mean. I’d say he has a mean streak. So I played dumb. Said I remembered seeing a black-haired, green-eyed little girl staying with my neighbors for a while, but you hadn’t been around in a long time. He wanted to know where you are now. Far as I knew, you hadn’t stayed in touch after you left. Told him about Laura dying too and how Darrell hadn’t been involved with you children. I assured him Darrell wouldn’t know anything about any of you, but he insisted on talking to him anyway.” She sighed. “I do wish I’d done something. I knew nothing good could come of it. I feel so bad about Darrell dying all alone like that.”
“It is not your fault. I doubt you could have done anything for Mr. Wells, but you’ve been very helpful to me. And the police too, I’m sure. Thank you so much for calling. I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch with you. I just… I didn’t…” She bit the tender underside of her thumb. Nobody cared about her issues.
“Oh, you don’t have to explain, dear. Growing up in foster care is difficult. You don’t expect things to last, especially relationships. I’m always here if you need an ear, though. You remember that.”
“I will. And I promise…” Grace hesitated. Promises weren’t her forte. She avoided them like the plague. Still, Mrs. Growsky deserved that much. She forced the words past the constriction in her throat. “I promise to stay in touch. As a matter of fact, why don’t you give me your address and phone number. I’ve moved a few times and I’m afraid I don’t remember it.”
She flicked a glance at the man hovering protectively when she finally hung up. Approval softened the hard lines of Matt’s face. Why that mattered, she didn’t know. Or didn’t want to know. Same difference.
“Well?”
Frowning, she stared out the window. “Over two weeks ago, a man showed up at my old foster parents’ home in Indiana looking for me. A week later, Mr. Wells was found murdered in his home by some sheriff from I-don’t-know-where.” She rolled the pen between her fingers. “Seems rather coincidental. Some guy shows up there looking for me, then somebody starts harassing me here. Plus…” Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze to the desk.
Matt turned her back to face him with a finger beneath her chin. “Plus what?”
“A man followed me through the parking garage this morning.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I mean, I think he followed me. I could be wrong. I saw some guy walking behind me and kinda freaked. Some people came along and he disappeared.” She shrugged. “It was probably nothing, except…the description Mrs. Growsky gave me was markedly similar.”
“Damnit, Grace. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“I told you. I wasn’t sure. Besides, what could you have done after the fact? And don’t talk to me like that.” Crossing her arms, she sat back and glared.
He glared right back. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything. Everything. I could have had the security guards check out the garage. I could have, and I will, arrange an escort to and from the building from now on.”
She lunged to her feet, banging her chair into the cabinet. “Like hell you will.”
“This is not the time to prove how independent you are.” Matt’s eyes glittered dangerously. “This is not about independence or your ability to take care of yourself. It’s about staying safe and staying alive.”
By the time he finished his impassioned little speech, she was pinned between Matt and the filing cabinet, her crossed arms brushing against his chest. Blood hammering in her ears, she debated her options. Because, damn him, he made sense. The desire to assert her independence burned the back of her throat. To show him he wasn’t the boss of her. Not in her personal life anyway.
“Fine,” she mumbled.
“What?” He inclined his head.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“I said fine. The stupid security guards can escort me to and from my stupid car like I’m some stupid kid.” That was rather a lot of stupids.
Matt’s brow climbed and his lips twitched. Of course, he would have to notice.
“Now that we’ve settled that, I vote we kiss and make up.” His voice dropped to a lovely low timbre and naughty thoughts sparked.
She averted her face. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Hot breath tickled her ear. Hotter lips nibbled. He nipped her earlobe and she surrendered. Even tilted her head a few degrees to allow him better access.
“I’m mad at you.” Yeah, anger explained her racing pulse and shortness of breath.
“Hmm…” He sucked gently on an especially sensitive, previously undiscovered, erogenous zone below her ear. “What can I do to get in your good graces again?”
His hand burrowed into her hair and tugged her head back while he paved a burning path down her neck, then reversed direction. When he reached her chin she forgot how to breathe. Really didn’t seem necessary at the moment anyway. Then, drat the man, he stared straight into her surely glazed eyes.
“I care about you, sweetheart. Nothing is more important to me than your safety and well-being.”
Oh, man. How could a girl resist? It wasn’t fair. And he still wasn’t kissing her. What the heck? Did he need absolution first? “Fine. You’re forgiven.”
Brown eyes flared with satisfaction, which ticked her off. Then she didn’t care, because he was kissing her as if his continued existence depended on it. She wound her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life.
Something somewhere pinged. She yanked her mouth free and gasped for air. Matt’s hair was adorably mussed.
“Aren’t we starting the weekend a little early?”
“I don’t care.” He claimed her mouth again. “I say we…call it good…and…take off…now,” he said in between kisses.
“You are the boss.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Matt opened his truck’s passenger door. One shapely leg emerged, then the other, the skirt hitching high on Grace’s thighs as she stepped onto the running board. Man, he loved her legs. Instead of letting her step down, he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her down. He’d have her naked and under him in fifteen minutes.
Then she lifted swirling pools of green desire and his erection gained another painful inch. She draped her arm around his neck and her body against his.
“Matt?”
He swallowed pooling saliva. “Yeah?”
“If you don’t get me up to my condo in the next thirty seconds, we’re going to have sex against the side of your truck.” She brushed her smooth cheek back and forth against his, her voice gone husky.
The rush of breath across his skin made his chest expand; the words sent another arrow of desire to his groin.
“I’m wearing almost non-existent panties and it’s making me feel very, very naughty.”
On a groan of pure agony, he slammed the door closed, grasped her hand and headed down the sidewalk in a ground-eating stride. The truck alarm beeped as an afterthought. Grace trotted to keep up, her soft laughter following him up the stairs. Much as he longed to take them two at a time, she’d never be able to do the same. Gaining her place alone held little appeal.
He waited impatiently while she unlocked the door. He nudged her inside, shut the door with his foot and grabbed her. Her belly was against the door a second later, and she flattened both palms against the paneling. The pose nearly unmanned him. One hand protecting her cheek from the door, he nibbled her neck and palmed her delectable ass.
She gasped and he wanted to taste that too. So he did, licking his way into her mouth. Her moan tasted of sin. Hot, wet, mind-numbing sin.
Before he grew too distracted to think, he flipped the dead bolts. The building could be on fire; he wouldn’t care so long as no one disturbed them. Grace did some sort of shimmy against his cock, and he swore. Cupping the side of her face, stroking his tongue in and out of her mouth, he jerked her blouse free of the waistband. Soft-as-cashmere skin met his fingers.
Grace’s bra clasped in the front, proving there was indeed a Mistress Fate. And she liked him. Feverish with wanting her, he cupped both of her breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples gently and thrusting against her ass. She freed her mouth with a gasp mingled on the same breath as a moan.
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