by Julie Miller
“You think John was murdered by a woman?” Bill’s blank expression became a frown of confusion. “Then why am I under attack here? If someone in my company is responsible for supplying the weapons and ammunition that killed these people, then I’ll look into it. I want to find John’s killer as badly as the rest of you.”
“KCPD can do that.” Edward pushed Atticus aside to face Bill directly across Holden’s bed. “We need you to drop the innocent facade and tell us everything you know about Z Group.”
LIZA KNOCKED SOFTLY at Holden’s door, bringing an abrupt end to the conversation on the other side.
“Come in.”
The door jerked from her hand as a dark-haired gentleman with silver sideburns appeared in the opening. “Excuse me.”
“Excuse…” But there was no need for her to apologize. His expression tense with an emotion that passed by too quickly to name, the man lengthened his stride and headed down the hall toward the elevators. Recovering from the startle, Liza pulled her hospital-issue robe together at the neck and snugged the tie belt at her waist. She swallowed hard, steeling her nerves and hoping that Susan Kincaid had been as accurate about her advice as she’d been sincere when she’d suggested that, since Liza was still awake herself, Holden would welcome a visit from her.
She stepped into the softly lit room. He already had three visitors—tall, dark-haired men—but her eyes were instantly drawn to the bruised face of the man sitting up in bed. Holden looked tired, pale against the crisp white sheets. His square jaw needed a shave. The faded hospital gown stretching from shoulder to shoulder seemed thin and insubstantial against the hospital’s sterile, cool air. But that piercing blue gaze—blessedly clear and locked on to hers—made her insides knot up in a bundle of feminine awareness and heartfelt need. “Hey, Kincaid.”
“Parrish.”
She took another step into the room, glancing from one man to the next. “If I’m interrupting something important, I can come back in the morning.”
“No.” Holden’s deep voice cracked, but his gaze never wavered from her. “They were just on their way out.”
“But I thought we were going to compare our notes and—”
“Atticus.” The biggest Kincaid brother, whom she’d learned was Sawyer, moved his gaze from the executive-looking one to Holden and back. “Think about it, smart guy. We can finish this tomorrow.”
“Of course. I understand a man’s priorities.” After saying goodbye to Holden, Atticus turned to the door. He paused for a moment in front of Liza, then dipped his head and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you in one piece, Miss Parrish.”
“Thanks. I—”
Sawyer picked her up and squeezed her in a hug before Atticus was out the door. He was warm and big and gentle as could be. “Glad I can finally do this.” By the time he set her feet back on the floor she was too stunned to speak. “Keep my baby brother out of trouble, okay?”
“Liza.” Edward nudged Sawyer out the door. His steely gray eyes lingered on her face for a moment before his chin dipped in a nod. Thanking? Approving? Of what? But he exited without saying another word.
As the door closed softly behind her, Liza thumbed over her shoulder and crossed to the foot of the bed. “What just happened?”
Holden’s weary expression relaxed with a grin. “It’s a Kincaid thing.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning they like you. Now get over here.” He stretched out his hand toward her. “I’ll probably rip some stitches if I leap out of bed at this point. I have something I want to talk to you about.”
With a smile, Liza hurried to his side and clasped his hand between both of hers. “No leaping, okay? You’ve scared me enough for one day.”
“The doc says I’m going to be okay,” he reassured her. He stroked his thumb over the back of her knuckles, warming her entire body with the subtle gesture. “Who’s watching the musketeers?”
“Believe it or not, Detective Grove volunteered to take them for the night. His apartment is going to be pretty crowded, but he seems to enjoy the company. In fact, I think he may be visiting our shelter to adopt a dog of his own soon.” Liza turned her hands to halt the distracting caress of his thumb. She looked straight into his blue eyes and sought an answer. “What do your brothers know that I don’t? Does it have to do with my testimony? I’m writing down everything I remember. And more and more details keep coming. My attending physician here gave me a list of reputable counselors I could talk to about memory loss. He thinks I’m at a point now where I’ll remember all of it, eventually.”
“That’s great.”
If not the murder investigation, then what had Holden and his brothers been discussing? And why wouldn’t he look away? She began to feel a self-conscious blush creeping into her cheeks at his unblinking study of her. “You’re not worried about me still, are you? Mr. Smith is dead and there are guards posted outside my room. You’ve got a trio of cops lurking outside of yours, too.”
A plastic IV tube followed his hand as Holden reached out to brush a wisp of hair off her cheek. “I think I’m always going to worry about you.”
Sweet. But he was stalling. “Spit it out already, Kincaid.”
Holden looked deep into those silvery eyes. How could one woman be so beautiful, so brave, so stubborn and caring all at once? Freckles and copper hair, strength and sass, and a determination to do the right thing were proving to be an irresistible combination to him. Liza Parrish was a wake-up call to his heart and his life, and he always answered when he was called to a mission. “You love me, right? Because I’m 99.9 percent sure I’m in love with you.”
Half a laugh and a wry smile made his heart pound faster. “Only 99.9, huh? So there’s a tenth of a percent of you that’s not sure?”
“No. I love you.” The teasing came as naturally as the need to touch her. He feathered his fingers into the silky copper at her temple. “But I don’t want to come on too strong.”
He detected a glitch in her smile. “We’ve only known each other for a few days,” she said.
“Doesn’t matter.” He pulled her toward him, urging her to sit on the bed facing him. “My job requires me to turn off my emotions and pretend I don’t feel a damn thing. But I haven’t been able to do that with you. I tried to make protecting you part of the job, part of my dad’s murder investigation. But I can’t. What I feel for you—it’s personal. It’s real. And it’s not going away. I know my family comes on like gangbusters, and you don’t have anybody and you may be a little reticent to—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Shut up, Kincaid. I’m not alone. I haven’t been since I met you.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want you to confuse gratitude with…” The stern look in her expression eased the last of his doubts. They were going to be okay. His memory hadn’t played tricks on him. “Shutting up now.”
“I have Bruiser, Cruiser and Yukon—okay, so Yukon is a traitor and has adopted you instead of me.” He kissed her fingertips as she pulled them away, then returned the favor by turning her warm lips into his palm where it rested against her cheek. “When I couldn’t remember things, I didn’t trust my own thoughts and feelings, much less allow myself to trust anyone else. But my dogs trust you. And they’re the best judges of character I know. If they can believe in you, I can, too.”
Holden wanted her closer. Wanted her in his arms, now. But he sensed that she needed to talk this out. “Coming from anybody else, that’d be a really cornball thing to say,” he said. “But I know how you feel about the musketeers. I guess I’ve developed a soft spot for them, too. I’m glad I’ve earned everyone’s trust.”
“You’ve earned more than that.” She inched a fraction closer and his pulse throbbed with hope. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to give my heart to anybody ever again—I’ve been in tough-chick survival mode for a long time. But you didn’t leave me any choice.” She framed his jaw between her hands. Say it, babe. Believe it. “I love you, Holden. I’m in love with you
.”
“Works for me.” The stitches in his side offered barely a twinge as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a long, leisurely, thorough kiss. When he finally came up for air, Liza was clinging to his neck, her faced flushed and smiling. Holden rested his forehead against hers. “So, if I want this connection we’ve made to go on forever, you’d be okay with that?”
“I’d be very okay with that.”
“And say I wanted to marry you, would there be someone I should ask?”
“Besides me?”
“I know your parents are gone. Is there any other family…? Oh.” She was grinning as she crawled beneath the covers with him, tenderly finding a spot where she could snuggle against his uninjured side. Holden wound his arms around her and tucked her healing, loving warmth even closer. “Fine. I’ll talk to the dogs as soon as I’m out of here.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-2317-6
PRIVATE S.W.A.T. TAKEOVER
Copyright © 2008 by Julie Miller
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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