Baby, Don't Go

by Susan Andersen

  She looked shocked. Then a tiny sound of amusement burbled out of her throat. “You pig!” She punched him on the arm.

  “Well, please, Maureen, get a grip. You always were a drama queen. First everything was all my fault; now it’s all yours. The truth is likely somewhere in between.” He kissed her thoroughly, then pulled back to look at her, satisfied at the smoldering, heavy-lidded gaze she returned. He rubbed a thumb over her mouth. “We still need to sit down and really talk about all the crap that’s been between us. I think we’ve both kept too many things to ourselves for much too long, and it’s time to get them out in the open. But that’s gonna have to wait. Because right now—”

  “Are you harboring the illusion that you’re running the show now?” Her nose tilted ceiling-ward as she slid off the counter, and he grinned to see her back in form.

  “It’s no illusion, sweetheart; it’s a fact. And as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—”

  She snorted inelegantly.

  “—right now we’re going to go terrorize some more money out of my buddies. I’m not about to rest until I’m a hundred percent certain that you’re going to stay the hell out of jail.”

  21

  NICK viewed the ballroom through the lens of his camera, looking for the perfect shot. He swept the room slowly from one side to the other, then front to back, but except for the two frames he’d taken of Daisy earlier, he didn’t come close to anything that was remotely usable, let alone a definitive moment he could memorialize for all time.

  The biggest problem was his frame of mind. They’d stopped at his post office box on the way here and he’d collected the bids from the tabloids. It was tough to dredge up the enthusiasm to search for the ultimate shot when he was about to flush his career down the toilet.

  He’d thought there was at least a bright side in knowing things couldn’t possibly get any bleaker. Then he saw his sister and brother-in-law walk in again. He lowered the Nikon and stared at them across the room. Great. The I’m-screwed factor had just shot up a hundredfold. It was tough enough keeping track of all the balls he’d set in motion without adding Mo to the mix.

  He’d been lucky earlier: she and Reid had been tied up with a parade of people, and he’d managed to keep Daisy out of sight on the opposite side of the room fairly easily.

  He didn’t even want to think about Blondie’s reaction if she learned that—she’d think he was ashamed of her. But he simply didn’t want to face the barrage of questions from Mo if she found Daisy in his presence. Like what had brought her back into his life in the first place. That could only lead to other questions he’d just as soon not answer—not before he had a chance to explain to Daisy that things weren’t exactly the way he’d told her.

  So he’d thought Dame Fortune was smiling on him when he saw Reid drag Mo from the room. It looked as if they were having an argument, but he couldn’t even scrape up the grace to feel concerned about it. It was every man for himself in love and war, and damn near anything was fine with him if it prevented his relationship with Daisy from getting all balled up. Besides, his sister was a strong woman.

  And none the worse for wear, obviously, because she and Reid looked pretty darn cozy now. He must have been misread the situation when they’d left. This was the reason he generally favored honesty. Lies had a nasty way of twisting around on a guy to bite him on the butt.

  So think, genius. If you want to hang on to Blondie past the next fifteen minutes, you’d better think of something good.

  Or prepare to kiss your future goodbye.

  Daisy looked around the sumptuous ballroom and wondered what the poor people were doing tonight. This was quite the do—flattering lighting, elegant, unobtrusive music, wonderful food. She’d bet her last buck the wine was excellent, too, but had to forgo the pleasure of testing the theory since she was on the job.

  She wished Reggie and the boys were here. They’d get such a bang out of this—especially the quality of the tuxes and the big-deal evening gowns. Somewhat to her surprise, however, she didn’t really feel out of place. The people she’d talked to tonight were pretty nice, and it made her think maybe she ought to deep-six all her old ideas about society types once and for all. Those impressions were highly colored by her teenage experiences, which, she had to admit, might not be the most reliable view in the world.

  She’d have to learn to get along with these people anyhow, if she planned on hanging out with Nick.

  She stilled. Did she? He’d said he loved her, but could she trust in that?

  How could she admit, even to herself, that perhaps she loved him more than the tiny bit she’d owned up to? It called for a huge leap of faith to hand over her heart to a man she didn’t fully trust not to smash it into a bazillion pieces.

  So, the big question was: did she dare? Wishing she could see into his mind, she stared at Nick’s profile as he scanned the room through the lens of his camera.

  And she admitted that, yes—she dared. When it came right down to it, what other choice did she have? She could deny it until her last breath left her dying body, but it wouldn’t change the truth: that she loved him with her entire being.

  She needed to let go of the rest. That had been years ago and he’d grown up a lot since then. They both had. She’d guarded her heart for a long time now, but without risk there was little chance of growth. And she’d always believed that when you quit growing you died.

  As if feeling her gaze, he suddenly turned his head and stared at her. Letting his camera hang from its neck strap, he crossed the few yards that separated them and stepped right up to her until his Nikon grazed her glittery bustier. Reaching out to clasp her head, he tilted her face up to his, bent his head, and slammed his mouth down on hers.

  Daisy was so shocked that her hands flew away from her sides as if someone had poked a gun in her ribs and said, Stick ’em up. They hovered near his shoulders, undecided whether to grab him and kiss him back, or smack him silly for putting them on display. Before she could decide one way or the other, he released her and stepped back.

  “I love you.” His voice was low but vehement. “Don’t you forget it.”

  “Okay.” She blinked up at him. What on earth was going on here?

  “I mean it,” he said. He looked beyond her, and whispered something profane under his breath. “Here come my sister and Reid. Look, Daise, don’t tell her that I’ve got trouble, okay? I don’t want her to worry.”

  Daisy froze. She was starting to get a bad feeling here. Lifting her chin, she drew herself up to her full height. “What’s going on, Coltrane?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing I can talk about right this moment. I’ll tell you everything later, though, I promise.”

  “Daisy?” Mo reached them. “My God, it is you. I thought it was when I saw you from across the room, but I wasn’t certain.” She pecked a kiss on Daisy’s lips, hugged her to her generous breast, then stepped back, holding Daisy at arm’s length to study her from head to toe. “You look wonderful! Very chic, very sophisticated.” She looked at her brother. “What were you doing kissing her?”

  Daisy’s flush barely had a chance to spread across her cheeks before Nick shrugged as if the subject were of the greatest indifference to him. “You kissed her,” he said. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  Her heart dropped to her stomach and she looked at him, willing him to meet her eyes. Was he going to deny their relationship?

  “I didn’t swab her throat with my tongue,” Mo retorted coolly. “It’s a slight but telling difference.”

  “Oh, nice imagery, Mo. Especially when I barely used any tongue at all. Did I, Daise?”

  Okay, that did it. She opened her mouth to respond, only to shut it when she realized she didn’t have any idea what to say.

  “That didn’t stop it from looking mighty darn carnal,” Mo said sternly. “And it didn’t look to me as if she were participating, Nick. Are you going around attacking young women at social events now?”

&nbs
p; “Only Blondie here.” Nick’s arm slid around Daisy and pulled her against his side. “We don’t consider it attacking, though, since she’s living with me now.”

  “She’s what?” Mo’s mouth dropped open. “Since when?”

  “What are you, Maureen, the Spanish Inquisition?” He turned to Reid. “Control your wife.”

  Reid snorted and Nick turned back to his sister with a shrug. “Fine. Since Monday, okay?”

  “Tuesday,” Daisy corrected. “Remember, on Monday you came—”

  “Several times,” he murmured and it was Daisy’s turn to have her mouth drop open. Nick guided it closed with a gentle fingertip beneath her chin.

  A blush scalded her from toes to hairline. She could not believe he’d said that! She’d been about to say he’d come to her office, but he’d made it sound as if…

  Good God. He had her blushing so hard she’d probably glow in the dark if the lights went out.

  “And you moved in late that afternoon, doll face, remember? Or, depending on your definition, early evening.” His wide shoulders twitched impatiently. “Either way, by Tuesday morning I was making coffee to kick start your day.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

  He wiggled his little finger in his ear, then pulled it out to examine its clean tip. “Say again?”

  “You’re such a comic, Coltrane. You oughtta take that act on the road. I said you’re right.”

  He rubbed the hand hugging her up and down her arm and grinned. “Now, there’s a concession that’s music to my ears.”

  “I’m confused,” Mo said.

  Her brother turned to her. “And is it absolutely mandatory that you’re crystal clear on our relationship, Mo?”

  “Relationship,” she repeated slowly, as if sounding out a foreign word. “You have a relationship.”

  “Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you?” Nick’s arm tightened around Daisy. “This is the real deal, Maureen. I love her.”

  Warmth bloomed in Daisy’s breast and spread until she felt incandescent right down to her toes. Nick did love her. He’d said so loud and clear. He’d have a hard time wriggling out of it now, because the words couldn’t be recalled.

  Mo stared at her brother. “This is rather sudden, isn’t it?”

  “For you, maybe. For me it’s long overdue.” Nick hugged Daisy even closer to his side. He smiled down at her, then looked back at his sister. “I’ve had feelings for Daisy since way back when. My mistake was in running away from them.”

  “So how did the two of you get together?”

  “I looked her up.”

  Mo looked as if she’d like to interrogate them further, but to Daisy’s relief a friend of Reid’s came up. After a moment of pleasantries he edged Reid aside and talked to him in an urgent undertone. Then he pulled out a checkbook and started writing.

  “That reminds me.” Mo guided Daisy and Nick a few steps away and lowered her voice. “You know that trouble I was in?”

  “My, God,” Daisy blurted, “what does it do—run in the family?”

  Mo raised a brow at her, Nick’s hand tightened on her upper arm, and she shook her head, giving Mo an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Never mind.”

  Maureen looked confused but shrugged it off, turning to her brother. “Anyhow, I won’t need your assistance with my problem after all, Nick. Reid straightened it out.”

  “Mo, that’s fantastic!” Nick released Daisy and swept his sister off her feet, swinging her around despite her demands to be put down. Ignoring all the heads turned their way, he grinned as he set her back on her feet. “I can’t tell you what a load off that is.”

  “I thought you’d like hearing it,” Mo agreed. Breathless and flushed, she straightened her gown and gave him a dazzling smile as he rejoined Daisy. “And not merely for my sake. Reid told me the lengths you were prepared to go to, to bail me out. He said you were actually going to sell your photos to—What?”

  Daisy had felt Nick stiffen next to her and looked up in time to see his finger slicing across his throat. She caught the tail end of a facial contortion that effectively cut off whatever Mo had been about to say, and it didn’t take a cop’s instinct to see that something was up. “Okay, let’s have it, Coltrane. What’s going on?” she demanded.

  “We’ll talk about it later.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he brushed silencing fingertips across her lips. “I promise.” He looked over at his sister. “Mo, will you excuse us? I’ve gotta get back to work—I haven’t had a lot of luck so far getting the shots I’m looking for.” Then he flashed a smile that lit up his face. “But I have a feeling I’ll do a better job now. I’m glad you shared your good news.”

  She studied him for a moment, then turned to Daisy. “Let’s get together real soon. We’ll do lunch. Or perhaps you and Nick could join us for dinner some evening.”

  “I’d like that—either one.”

  But at the moment she had bigger fish to fry. Nick was up to something, and not having a glimmer of what that something was made her uneasy—both professionally and personally.

  She watched him prowl the ballroom with his Nikon glued to his eye, and tried to pinpoint the exact moment he’d begun to behave differently. The closest she could figure was after they’d stopped off at his mail center on their way here.

  He’d had a strange expression on his face as he’d sorted through the envelopes he’d pulled from his box, but when she’d asked if anything was the matter he’d stuffed them into his tux jacket, rolled his shoulders impatiently, and said no. As he’d locked the letters in the glove compartment, though, he’d seemed to lose a little of the spark that had lit him from within.

  Or maybe that was her own emotions speaking. She conceded she’d been riding pretty high from hearing him say he loved her—even though she’d industriously denied it to herself. She couldn’t even say with certainty that the spark had been there in the first place. Perhaps she’d simply projected the radiance that she had felt onto him.

  She shrugged impatiently. She’d worry about motives later—both his and her own. Right now her time would be better spent finding out exactly what Nick was up to. She had a nasty suspicion that whatever it was could affect his safety.

  Was he going all protective on her? Daisy nodded to Sue and John Smart, a couple with whom she’d had an engaging conversation earlier, and kept moving. She waylaid a waiter to request a club soda and, accepting it from him a moment later, set out after Nick again.

  Without encroaching on his work space, she kept within a reasonable distance of him. Watching him snap off frames, she sipped her club soda and went back to the thought that had popped into her head, worrying it like a puppy with a knotted rag.

  Was he going protective on her? Was that what this was all about—that he’d decided he was in love and had to protect the little woman?

  If so, he didn’t have to worry about Hubby and the goon patrol—because she’d kill him herself.

  The more she thought about it, though, the less sense that made. Why would he have such an abrupt change of heart? He’d been smart enough to come to her in the first place because he’d known he was out of his depth. Plus he had machismo to spare, and he’d never indicated by word or deed that having a woman in charge of his security threatened that. So why would telling her that he loved her suddenly change a perfectly workable arrangement?

  This was ridiculous. Was she going to spend the rest of the night trying to guess his reasons? Or did she tackle Nick, right here, right now, and find out what the heck was going on?

  Ah, gee, let me think. Tough decision.

  Setting her glass on an empty table, she strode up behind Nick and tapped him on the shoulder.

  Nick finally had a decent shot lined up, and he shrugged her hand aside. “Just a second, Daisy.” He snapped off the shot, then lowered his camera and turned to face her.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  He looked at her flushed cheeks and determined chin, her H
ershey’s Kisses’ eyes that shot sparks and challenge, and felt the corners of his mouth quirk. “When it comes to you, cupcake, I’ve got second sight.”

  “Yeah?” She thrust her chin out at him. “How about precognition, Coltrane—you got that, too? Because we’ve gotta talk. Now.”

  Oh, hell. His heart sank, for she had that I’m-kicking-butt-and-taking-names look on her face. Without much hope, he said, “I’m working, Blondie.”

  “Me, too. The difference is you’ve had me working blind all evening, and I want to know why. I don’t like being kept in the dark, Nicholas.”

  “But you disguise it so well,” he muttered.

  She ignored the aside. “I’ve asked this before, but now I’m not budging until I get a straight answer. What the hell is going on?”

  Feeling hunted, he thrust back a strand of hair that had flopped forward and said, “I said I’d tell you everything later, Daisy, and I meant it. As soon as I finish here—”

  “I’ve got news for you, bud: later has arrived. You don’t hire me to keep your hide intact and then prevent me from doing my job with a ‘later, baby.’ Next you’ll be telling me not to worry my pretty little head.”

  “Only if I have a sudden urge to commit suicide.”

  “Very funny, Nick.” She thrust her nose up under his. “You’d better resign yourself to packing up your camera for a while. Because you and I are going to go out in the lobby and have a nice little talk.”

  “It’s time you and I had a talk, Coltrane,” echoed an urbane voice behind them.

  Daisy didn’t bother to look to see who had spoken. “Take a number,” she snapped.

  Nick’s sentiments exactly. Everyone seemed to want a piece of him tonight.