by Diana Palmer
“Yes, she’s back. Yes, she’s all right. No, you can’t speak to her. I’ll have her call you later,” he said tersely.
He hung up. “Helen,” he murmured dryly, looking down into her dazed eyes. “Checking to see if you were home.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yes, it was, but her timing stinks,” he said huskily. His eyes fell to her mouth. “I’m glad that I can make you want me, Tess.”
“That’s conceit…” she began.
His mouth covered hers, parting her mouth, making her cling to his strong neck. He didn’t increase the pressure or deepen the kiss. He stroked her mouth with his for a few aching seconds and then lifted his head. He looked at her with pure hunger until she flushed and averted her gaze to his throat.
“I’ve never kissed anyone like this,” he whispered after a minute.
“Neither have I.” Her cheeks flushed with heat. “The things you said to me…!”
“Turned you on so much that you gasped,” he murmured, his eyes glittering. “I’ve never said things like that to another woman. They seem to come naturally with you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
His jaw tautened. He looked at her mouth until his body began to ache. He was getting in over his head here. He had to stop, now, while he still could. “No,” he returned deeply. “I didn’t hurt you.” He’d never tried to be gentle. Tess made him want that. Made him want things he resented wanting. “I couldn’t hurt you now. Not even if I wanted to.”
He nuzzled his cheek against hers with rough affection and hugged her close for an instant before he made himself put her gently away and get to his feet. “I’d better go. Keep the door locked. Get some rest. We’ll try to restore order to the office in the morning, if you’re sure you feel up to a day’s work.”
“Of course I do,” she stammered. Her hair was disheveled, and her mouth tingled. She stared at him helplessly as he straightened his tie. “Why?” she whispered.
He was still getting himself back together. He’d never felt such a weakness for a woman, such a raging need to please, to pleasure her. He hadn’t thought he was still vulnerable, but he was. He wanted Tess as he’d never wanted another woman. He couldn’t afford to give in to it. Not now. Not yet.
His dark eyes pinned hers. “Remuneration for past sins?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow as he smiled mockingly.
Her face fell. “Oh.”
Her naked vulnerability took the sting out of his hunger for her. He took a long breath. “Hell!” He laughed harshly. “I’m a loner, have you forgotten? None of this is easy for me.” He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with a flick of his lighter. “I wanted to know that I could arouse you, that I could make you stop being afraid of me, all right?” he asked irritably.
“Only that?”
“No. You know, you must know, that I want you so much I can hardly bear it.” His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Don’t let me get that close again, for your own sake,” he said finally, turning away. “There’s no future in it. Let’s just say that I wanted to see if tenderness had any selling points.”
“Does it?”
At the doorway he turned, the knob already in his hand. He didn’t answer the question. He looked at her with quiet desperation. “Tess, I’m set in my ways, too jaded and hard for a little puritan like you. I’ll probably always want you, but I don’t want commitment. That being the case, you can’t let me seduce you. Let’s keep some distance between us, okay?”
She forced a smile. At least he was honest. And some of those old scars were smoothing out, because of what had just happened. “Okay. Thanks for taking care of me, when I needed help.”
“I’ll always be around if you need me, baby,” he said gently.
The casual endearment made her pulse race. She couldn’t hide her reaction to it from him.
“You remember the last time I called you that, don’t you?” he asked quietly. “Despite the way I just was with you, in bed I’m rough and quick and my pleasure comes first,” he said with brutal honesty. “Virgins aren’t my style, and I’m sure as hell not yours.” He drew in a slow, regretful breath and his lips twisted. “So let’s quit while we’re ahead. Good night, Tess.”
He went out and closed the door. She went to it, her fingers touching the doorknob with exquisite care, as if she could still feel the warmth of his hand there. He’d just walked out on her for the second time, except that now she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. She was back in her old rut, teetering on the knife-edge of love, with no way to go but down.
Chapter Four
DANE HADN’T RELENTED on the subject of Tess’s bodyguard. One of the operatives, a freelancer named Adams, was two steps behind her all the way to work.
Helen grinned when she came into the office. She sang a few lines from “Me and My Shadow” and did an impromptu tap dance.
“Oh, shut up,” Tess grumbled. “Dane thinks I’ll be killed in broad daylight, I guess.”
“He can’t take the chance,” Helen whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. “Think of the damage it would do the agency’s reputation if our own secretary bit the dust with us guarding her!”
Tess burst out laughing. “You raving lunatic.” She hugged the other girl warmly. “It’s good to be back to work.”
“We missed you,” Helen asserted. “Nobody hid under my desk all week.”
“I don’t hide under your desk.”
“You would have, but there isn’t room, what with my feet and the trash can I keep under there. I’m really sorry I forgot to tell you about that stakeout,” she said with a grimace. “Dane in a temper is a sight to behold, isn’t he?” She sighed. “Although sometimes I think it’s too bad I’m committed to Harold. I could go for Dane in a big way.” She frowned thoughtfully. “He hasn’t dated anyone since his ex-wife left him, has he? Do you think it’s because he got shot?”
“What do you mean?” Tess asked curiously.
“I mean, he limps sometimes,” the other girl replied, careful to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “It might cramp his style in bed.”
Tess cleared her throat. “It doesn’t cramp it on a horse,” she said. “He was out helping round up new calves while I recuperated at the ranch.”
“Good point.” Helen shrugged. “Maybe he thinks he’s unsightly. Or maybe he just hates women. What a waste of a good man. If only he didn’t have that textbook police officer’s face. He hardly ever smiles, and everything is always business with him.” She shook her heard and turned away. “I wonder if he’s like that with a woman.”
Thinking about how Dane was with a woman made Tess’s knees go weak. The things he’d whispered to her when he kissed her weren’t dry as dust, for a fact. He might be rough, but he was sensual, and she was just discovering—as he seemed to be, too—that he could be very tender….
“Catch me up, will you?” Tess asked as she uncovered her computer. “I feel as if I’ve been away for a month.”
“I don’t doubt it. Arm okay?”
“A little stiff.” She grinned at Helen. “No need to worry. We tough, dedicated professionals can take the odd gunshot in our stride.”
“Rub it in,” Helen groaned. “Now, everybody in the office has been shot except me. Even the secretary!” she added with a hot glare at Tess.
Tess raised her hands. “Not my fault. I swear I didn’t invite those men to point a gun at me, not even to get one up on you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Helen propped her hand on her hip. “How do I know that?”
The office door opened and Dane glared at them. “On company time, you work. Get busy.”
“Yes, sir,” Helen said demurely.
Tess couldn’t quite meet his eyes. She sat down at her desk. “Helen was going to catch me up.”
“Make sure it’s business, not play,” he said tersely.
She glanced at him. “You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, letting his eyes dart off her
s without lingering. “When Andrews calls, have him drop by the office about lunchtime. I’ve got an assignment for him. I’ll be in conference with the skip tracers. Hold my calls until I’m through.”
“Will do.”
His dark eyes slid over her face and down to the rounded neckline of the red blouse that went with her cream-colored suit. Her hair was in a chignon and she was wearing only a trace of makeup. “You look very elegant this morning,” he said unexpectedly. “Lunch date?”
“No.” She fiddled with the keyboard. “I didn’t want to disappoint my shadow by dressing like a boring office girl. I thought he might be more impressed if I put on my Mata Hari outfit.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Wrong genre. We’re detectives, not spies.”
“It wouldn’t be the same if I wore a trench coat and an Indiana Jones hat.”
“Maybe not.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. There was something preoccupied in his manner.
She hadn’t missed the black scowl. “What’s wrong?”
He let out a hard sigh. “Your assailant jumped bail. He’s out on the streets and nobody knows where.”
Her arms felt chilled. She didn’t have to ask why that worried him. It was disturbing and frightening to know that she was the only witness to a drug deal. What she’d seen could send two men to prison. If they were desperate enough to silence her, her life wouldn’t be worth a plug nickel.
“Adams had me in sight constantly this morning,” she said.
He nodded. “He’s one of the best. But having you in sight won’t be enough. He can’t sleep with you.”
“You could teach me how to use a pistol.”
“It takes years of experience to shoot one properly,” he reminded her. “And it isn’t the same when you’re in a desperate situation, as when you’re on the practice range.”
He would know, she thought, watching him. He’d been in enough desperate situations over the years. “I could move in with Helen,” she suggested, as she had once before.
He took his hands out of his pockets and sat on the edge of her desk, leaning forward so that none of the others in the office could hear him. He stared at her intently. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not making improper suggestions. But I want you to move into my apartment until we catch your assailant.”
“Live with you?” she asked hesitantly.
He nodded. “It’s the safest way. I’d let you move in with Adams, but his girlfriend wouldn’t like it,” he murmured dryly, trying to lighten the moment.
She hesitated.
“Tess,” he said quietly, “if you’re worried because of what happened last night, there’s no need. I told you that I don’t want commitment. I won’t seduce you. And you must know by now that I won’t force you, either.”
She bit her lower lip. “Yes, but it wouldn’t look right.”
“No one will know except the office staff,” he promised her. “And they know why. It isn’t as if I’m asking you to have an illicit affair with me.”
“I know that.” She stared at her pink fingernails. The thumbnail was chipped. She picked at it nervously.
He tilted her chin up and smiled faintly. “I won’t walk around in the nude or watch football games for the duration.”
She smiled in spite of her fears. “Do you normally watch football games?”
He shook his head. “But I do normally walk around nude. I’ll have to buy a pair of pajamas while you’re in residence. And a robe.”
“I like pajamas, too,” she said.
“I’ll pick you up tonight at seven and take you home with me,” he said. “Until then, Adams can keep an eye on you.”
He got up from the desk. Tess felt more uncertain than she ever had before. Living with him was going to be one big test of her immunity to his attraction.
With a frown she watched him go back into his office. Why was he doing it? To prove to himself that he really didn’t want her? She wished she knew. But she was much too afraid of the consequences of staying by herself to argue with him. Over the years she’d learned how cheap life was to people who used and sold narcotics. Dane was a trained policeman, an ex-Texas Ranger who knew more about means and methods of protecting people than she had time to learn. She was glad he had that knowledge. Now, her very life might depend on it.
The day turned out to be a quiet one, thank goodness. She left at five with Adams on her heels, and when she got home, packed enough for a few days. She didn’t like leaving her apartment, but she really had no choice.
Dane buzzed the apartment at seven sharp, and she opened the door.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I’ve just got to get my coat,” she said, looking around. She had a single suitcase.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked with a frown.
“Well, it’s enough for a few days,” she began.
“Tess, this could take weeks,” he said shortly. “I don’t want to alarm you, but you may be with me for some time.”
“I—I can come back and get what I need, can’t I?”
“I suppose. Did you pack a gown and a robe?”
“Yes.” She flushed. “Well, pajamas and a robe.”
He smiled gently. “You’ll have your own room. It’s a big apartment.”
“I remember,” she said absently, and then regretted dragging the memory up when he glowered.
“Let’s go,” he said tersely.
She locked up. He carried her case down to the garage, his eyes watchful and alert to any sign of danger. She noticed with quiet resignation the faint bulge under his jacket. He carried a .45 automatic pistol on the job. He had a permit for it, and it was registered. A tool of the trade, he called it. But to Tess, it was a painful reminder of the ever-present danger of his profession and the realization that he could be killed pursuing it.
He helped her into the car before he put the case in the trunk, and he examined the engine and every inch of the frame before he started the vehicle.
“Is that necessary?” she asked.
He nodded as he backed out of the parking space. “Part of the routine, honey. Don’t worry about it. You’re in good hands.”
“I know that.” She leaned back against the seat. “Why did I have to leave the office late?” she groaned. “If I’d gone home when I should have that night, I wouldn’t have seen anything.”
“I was busy calling you on the carpet,” he reminded her with a glance. “I get to share the blame.”
“I deserved it, blowing the stakeout that way.”
“In fact, you saved it,” he murmured reluctantly. “The storekeeper had grown suspicious of our people outside. When you waved to Helen and asked about Harold’s nephew, he grew careless. They collared his son five minutes after you left.”
Her jaw dropped. “You didn’t say!”
He glanced at her sternly. “You could have done a lot of damage by being careless. So could Helen. You both deserved a scare, and you got it.”
“Slave driver.”
He chuckled, a rare sound that was pleasant in the dark interior of the car. “Next time you’ll be more careful, won’t you?”
“My job isn’t dangerous.” She glared at him. “You won’t let me do what I really want to,” she accused.
“Which is what?” he asked as they stopped at a red traffic light. He laid his arm over the back of the seat and looked into her eyes. “Sleep with me?”
“Of all the conceit,” she gasped.
He smiled at her. “You want me.”
She averted her eyes. “The light’s green.”
“Change the subject,” he invited as he pulled ahead. “But you’d better stay out of my bed at night,” he said matter-of-factly. “It won’t do any good to plead with me,” he added when she opened her mouth. “My bedroom door will be locked, in case you feel like trying it for yourself.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. He didn’t sound like the all-business detective she knew.
He arched a
n eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he said. “I’m just not modern enough for casual affairs.”
“Dane, do you feel all right?”
“Yes, and don’t come an inch closer to see for yourself how I feel,” he cautioned sternly. “You can keep your hands off my leg. I’m not that kind of man.”
She burst out laughing as his words finally got through to her. She hadn’t realized he even had a sense of humor. Presumably, he’d kept it hidden over the years.
“I feel absolutely dangerous,” she mused.
“Most women are,” he agreed. “I’d put sex-starved virgins at the top of the list, too.”
“I’m not that!” she protested.
“How do you know?” He pulled into the parking lot of his own apartment complex. Since most of his business was in Houston, it took too long to commute back and forth from the ranch, so he maintained an apartment in town. He glanced at her as he parked the car. “These urges tend to creep up on women like you. One minute you’re blushing and nervous. The next, you’re panting and ripping a helpless man’s clothes off.”
Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “I promise to control my…urges,” she assured him.
“God, I hope so. And no peeking when I’m in the shower,” he added darkly.
The repartee took all the fear out of the new experience. She followed him up to his second-floor apartment without a qualm.
The room he gave her was decorated in blues, from wallpaper to carpet to curtains. She felt right at home, as she had at the ranch. All it needed was Beryl fussing over them.
“I’ll cook, if you like,” she volunteered. “I love it.”
“No argument from me,” he nodded. “I can cook, but I hate it.”
She opened the freezer. It was well stocked. So was the refrigerator. “How about a steak and salad for supper?”
“Suits me.” He kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the sofa with his jacket half-off.
She went into the guest room and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, walking around in socks but no shoes. He was apparently as shoes-prejudiced as she was, because he left his off, too.
When she got back to the kitchen, he was out of his jacket and tie, his shirt half-unbuttoned down the front. She studied him covertly, curious about his body in a way she never had been about any other man’s. His chest, what she could see of it, was covered in thick black hair. He was deeply tanned from his face down to what she could see of the taut muscular flesh above his belt buckle, and it didn’t look like the type of coloring gotten from the sun.