One-Click Buy: February 2010 Harlequin Blaze

by Betina Krahn

  “The sacraments—you know, the bread and wine, plus the communion cup, trays, offering plates, candles and acolyte lighters.”

  “If you need to get something from the closet, how do you get in? There’s a padlock.”

  “I have a key.”

  Surprise flickered through Tyler’s eyes. “A key?”

  “Sure.” He reached across Andrea and grabbed a ring of keys off the bedside table. “I have a key to everything except private offices.”

  Relief flooded Andrea. Sister Mary Katherine and Father Dominick trusted Finn just as she did. “Well, I’d say that was a big, fat mistake on the thief’s part.”

  Tyler’s gaze met hers. The hardness in his eyes faltered for a moment before he directed his attention to her brother. “Have you unlocked the cabinet for anybody today?”

  Andrea jumped off the bed, incensed by the trickery. “Hang on, Lieutenant. The lock was—”

  “Sit down, Andrea,” Tyler ordered. “Or you’re out.”

  So much for working together.

  With a silent glare, she did as requested.

  “Finn—the closet,” Tyler prompted. “Did you open it for yourself or anyone else today?”

  “No.”

  “Did you see anyone near the closet today?”

  “No. I never went in the sanctuary. What’s missing?”

  Tyler simply shook his head. “Have you seen anybody lurking around the church grounds in the last few days?”

  “Lurking, sir?”

  “You know what I mean—casing.”

  Finn looked amused. “I don’t really know much about casing, sir. I pretty much stole on impulse.”

  “You’re definitely related to Andrea,” Tyler muttered.

  “You’d know him better if you talked to him instead of interrogating him,” Andrea said sweetly.

  Clearly frustrated, Tyler scanned the room—which didn’t take long. “The chalice is missing,” he said after a minute.

  Finn lurched to his feet. “I didn’t take it.” His hazel eyes were full of panic. “I wouldn’t do that to the church, or Sister Mary Katherine.”

  Rising, Andrea grabbed his hand. “We know you didn’t. Don’t we, Lieutenant?”

  Tyler slid his hands in his uniform pockets, his gaze locking with hers.

  Andrea understood his silence. If he agreed, he was breaking probably a hundred rules of law enforcement and, at least in his mind, possibly jeopardizing his case.

  But his answer was a vital test to her. Were they building a relationship or just sleeping together? Could she truly believe in the passion he seemed to have for her? Maybe she didn’t have the right to ask for his trust, but she wanted it anyway.

  “I don’t think you’re the thief, Finn,” Tyler said finally.

  So maybe she did like him. A lot.

  Closing the two feet that separated them, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. A gasp escaped his lips before he responded.

  “See, I’m not such a bad guy,” Tyler said when she pulled away, his gaze fixed on hers.

  Andrea knew she could look into those bright eyes for a long, long time and never tire of the desire she found in them. And those feelings scared her. How much further could she fall?

  “You’re okay,” she said lightly, belying the concern in her heart.

  Grinning, Tyler raised his eyebrows. “I’ll work on improving.”

  “Are you guys done with me?” Finn asked from behind them. “This is kinda awkward.”

  His expression sobering, Tyler stepped away from Andrea. “I’m finished, but I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me.” When Andrea cast him a questioning glance, he added, “I don’t think Finn’s involved, but somebody is stealing silver on the island. And they’re doing a pretty damn good job making him look guilty.”

  Andrea frowned. “Then doesn’t the thief have to be somebody Finn knows?”

  “Maybe not,” Tyler said with a shrug. “It’s a small island. A lot of people probably know about his past trouble with the law. And with everything he does here at the church, a lot more know about his job.”

  A thief with a grudge? Andrea shook her head in denial. “But why would anybody do that? Who would hate him so much?”

  Finn hunched his shoulders. “Ex-con in town. Easy blame.”

  The cynicism in his tone made Andrea’s stomach tighten.

  To her surprise, Tyler nodded. “Finn’s a convenient scapegoat. I don’t think it’s about hate, though. Probably not a personal thing.” His gaze shifted to Finn. “But just in case, I want the names of the gang members you used to hang out with.”

  Finn lowered his head. “Ah, man. I left all that behind.”

  “Some mistakes you never stop paying for,” Tyler returned, his voice firm.

  Like the mistakes he’d made? She was really getting aggravated by his cryptic hints. He didn’t want to talk to her about it, but he kept bringing it up? What was his deal?

  “How encouraging,” she said.

  “But true,” Tyler insisted. “If we’re going to solve this case, we’ve got to be honest with each other.”

  With a knowing stare, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Do we really?”

  “Andy,” Finn said, saving Tyler from a reply, “it’s cool.” He shrugged. “He’s right. I’d rather hear it straight.”

  Andrea never budged her stare from Tyler. “So would I.”

  Tyler—the big chicken—shifted his gaze to her brother. “Finn, I need you to think back over the last few weeks. Has anybody been acting unusual, asking questions about your past, your schedule?”

  “I don’t think so,” Finn said.

  “Well, think harder,” Tyler suggested. “The election is in less than two weeks.”

  “And may justice be done regardless,” Andrea added.

  Finn glanced up. “Yeah, sure.”

  Andrea pulled him into a hug. “We will find the truth.”

  Finn stepped back from her embrace. “I know.”

  Since he didn’t sound so sure, she held his hand a moment longer. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

  “But I’d like to be.” Finn squeezed her hand, then let go. “No offense.”

  She wasn’t. In his place, she’d want some time on her own. Besides, she had issues to discuss with Tyler. “Fine. We’ll go.”

  As they left the building and headed toward Tyler’s squad car, neither of them spoke. Absently noting the thickness of the night sky and the crisp breeze, signaling an approaching storm, Andrea organized her thoughts. She needed to get to the bottom of this I’ve killed business.

  Even though there were a million things to do in order to solve the silver thefts, she couldn’t let his obvious pain go on any longer. He blamed himself, and since her journey with Finn had filled her with the same emotion many times over, she knew how lousy it felt.

  Tyler opened her door, then climbed in the driver’s side of the gold-and-blue sheriff’s department car. As he gripped the steering wheel, his gaze fixated on the church, lit by spotlights surrounded by a group of ancient oaks. “It’s been a really stressful day.”

  Just like that, her conversation plan crashed. The tension in his body, the bleakness in his eyes, said plenty on their own. The issues she wanted to address could wait.

  Now, she only wanted his touch and knew he needed hers. She slid her hand along his thigh. “I bet I can find a way to relieve that stress.”

  Dragging his gaze away from the church, he took her hand, kissing the spot on the underside of her wrist where her pulse beat thick and strong. “Please do.”

  A sensual smile breaking across her lips, she unhooked her seat belt and moved into his lap. With one hand still on his thigh, she glided the other one up his chest and pressed her mouth to the side of his neck.

  “You’re breaking several laws, you know.”

  “You want to ticket me?” she asked, then flicked her tongue against his ear.

  He sucked in a quick breath. “N
ot really.”

  “Then drive.”

  Though he groaned, he put the car in Reverse. “I don’t see how.”

  She threaded her fingers in the thick, silky hair at his nape and let her lips roam across his cheek, then down his throat. The scent of arousal, the sound of labored breathing and glorious, enticing heat filled the cab. Yanking his shirt from his pants and flipping open the top button, she glided her palm down his body.

  The car swerved.

  She smiled.

  With the speed limit on the island a sedate thirty-five and her confidence in Tyler’s reflexes, she sank her teeth lightly into his earlobe as she wrapped her hand around his erection.

  He braked hard.

  “In a minute, you’ll have to arrest yourself,” she said.

  “In a minute, I’m—”

  He stopped talking as she moved her hand briskly up, then down. His cock pulsed, and she felt the echo between her own legs. When she scooted over the console and replaced her mouth with her hand, he yanked the car to the shoulder of the road.

  “Dear heaven,” he whispered thickly, throwing the gear into Park.

  As his hands tangled in her hair, she moved over him, deciding his tension had flown completely…except for one particular area.

  She liked having him under her complete control; she liked knowing everything they shared strengthened their bond. She loved touching him and relished his touch in return. Whatever became of them, however long they lasted, she hoped she’d never regret taking this chance.

  “I’ve never had sex in a police car,” she said, lifting her head and swinging her legs over to straddle his hips.

  His eyes glittered in the dim light. “Hell, the car’s not mine. It’s the sheriff’s. How am I going to—”

  She silenced him by kissing him full on the mouth. Gliding her tongue across his, she moaned in the back of her throat at the intimate but ultimately frustrating contact between her sundress, panties and his erection.

  “Do you want me?” she asked, closing her eyes as he pressed his hips harder against hers and her breath hitched.

  “Always.”

  “Then get me home.”

  “My place is closer.” Working his arms around her, while she plastered herself to his chest and tried to calm her racing heart, he threw the car in gear and flew the remaining distance to his house. The tires squealed as he whipped the car into his driveway. Barely before the car had stopped, he’d opened her door and was waiting.

  They linked hands and rushed inside a small white cottage. She had a glimpse of a den to the right and a short hall leading to a bedroom on the left, then he led her straight down the hall into his kitchen.

  It was neat and smelled of spaghetti sauce, the bachelor’s steady meal. Someone, probably Tyler’s mother, had put a blue glass vase filled with tropical silk flowers on the kitchen table.

  Tyler snagged the vase and set it on the kitchen counter, then lifted her onto the table.

  “No tour?” she teased.

  “Later.” He tossed his keys aside, then kissed her until she forgot where she was, much less why she’d care to know.

  He freed his erection as she wriggled out of her undies, then kicked them aside. He grabbed a condom from his wallet, and she helped him roll on the protection with frantic speed. With his arms braced around her, she hooked her legs around his hips. “Have I told you lately how much I love that you love to wear dresses?”

  “Ah…no. Not lately.”

  “Then I’ll say it now.” He surged inside her.

  She absorbed the stabbing pleasure and clung to him. Her heart warned her that the echoes of their pleasure would resonate through her life, possibly forever. Their time together was precious, sweeping them along like the ocean clutched at the sand, dragging bits and pieces, swirling where some returned to the shore and others sunk to the blackened bottom, lost without light.

  His hips pounded against hers, and she lost the power of breath and thought. The intense pleasure spiraled and tightened until she exploded, throbbing over him, clinging to his body, wondering if she’d ever reach his heart or let hers be fully his.

  He followed her climax a heartbeat later, and her body trembled, even as her soul sighed with satisfaction and her legs slid weakly off his hips.

  LIFTING HER HEAD OFF the pillow briefly, Andrea pressed an exhausted but satisfied kiss to Tyler’s bare chest.

  After the intensity of their stress-busting sex on the kitchen table, he’d said little, simply leading her to his bedroom, where his hunger continued at an almost desperate pace. She knew the anxiety of the thefts, the election, as well as his mysterious mistake, were fueling a drive to escape. And while she was only too happy to sail off to Neverland with him, the journey would inevitably manage to find ground at some point.

  She hoped his touchdown wouldn’t be part of an emergency crash landing.

  “Will your contacts let you know if they hear anything more about the tea set?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

  “They will,” she said, fighting to shift her thoughts from lovemaking to law enforcement.

  He moved them onto their sides, legs tangled, sharing the same pillow. “What do you think we’re up against?”

  “I think the timing and the election are significant. I wonder if the theft of the chalice was simply to throw suspicion on Finn, and I still don’t understand why anything was stolen. What’s the thief really after? What’s really at stake here?”

  In the dim light of the moon shining through the bedroom window, his intense daze searched hers. “A great deal.”

  Did he mean them or the case? Or both?

  “You were great tonight,” he added. “Defending me to a priest and a nun.”

  “You believe my brother’s innocent.”

  “I do,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. “You defended me before that.”

  “I believe in you.”

  “Because I was your high school crush?”

  “Because of much more.”

  “What then?” he asked, his voice soft.

  She wished she could be more eloquent, find the words that would make all the turbulence in his eyes grow calm. She wished she could trust in her feelings. “You’re special.”

  She’d said the wrong thing. With a sigh, he sat up and flung the covers aside, then snatched his uniform pants from the floor. “So I’ve been told all my life,” he said as he dressed.

  “Why’s that bad?” she asked reasonably, tucking the sheet around her and propping her head on her hand.

  He paused a telling moment before saying, “It’s not.”

  Family and duty. She had to find a way to get to that kernel. “Your grandfather was sheriff, right?”

  He clenched his fists at his sides, so she knew she was on the right track.

  “He was.”

  “I don’t really remember before Sheriff Caldwell, but I’ve heard your grandfather was well respected.”

  “I remember,” he said heatedly. “And if I forget, there’s a scrapbook.”

  Her own parents and grandparents were gone, but she understood this kind of pressure easily. She and Finn were the only ones left to insure their generation did right by their name. “So your family expects you to win this election.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to win?”

  “I…” He was obviously surprised by the direct question. “Sure I do.”

  “That didn’t sound so decisive.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I can see that.”

  “No, I don’t think you can.”

  “And why do you think that is?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re wrapped up too intimately in this case.”

  “Well, that’s certainly true, but I’m not worried about Finn any longer. I’m worried about you.”

  “You shouldn’t be.” He made a visible effort to rein in his emotions and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “I’m handling i
t.”

  Despite his efforts, despair rolled off him like the waves battering the sandy shore. He hid his pain behind a hero’s reputation and a flirtatious smile. “You’re not handling anything.”

  11

  FACED WITH THOSE all-knowing sea-green eyes, Tyler fought to deny the turmoil churning in his gut.

  She made him feel good. Amazing, even. He didn’t want the past jumping in to spoil their bond.

  “You know you can tell me anything,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “But…”

  “No but.”

  She sat up, sliding the back of her hand across his cheek. The tender gesture made his throat close. “Why did you retire?”

  You’re not alone, not anymore.

  She’d said those words to her brother. The fact that she was willing to stand up for him as well overwhelmed him. All those years ago, he hadn’t seen her, but his focus was clear now. She was loyal and strong, beautiful and compassionate, challenging and brilliant.

  It was ridiculously obvious that he loved her.

  She was everything he needed to make his life complete. She was what had been missing from his supposedly perfect life. He’d risk or do anything to have her by his side.

  With feelings of that depth running through his veins, he had no right to keep secrets, to hold back the worst of him. If he ever hoped to have her love and respect in return, she had to know the truth.

  Even if he risked everything.

  He rose and held out his hand. “Let’s go into the den.”

  After helping her dress in his uniform shirt, which looked a hell of a lot better on her anyway, he got them some orange juice from the kitchen, then sat beside her on his rented brown leatherette couch.

  If he was going to win Andrea’s heart, he’d have to get over his commitment issues and actually buy some decent furniture.

  “I was called in the middle of the night to head a mission in…” He paused, considering security clearances, information he’d sworn to protect, along with lives. “Terrorists had taken over a village, and we’d been quietly asked to assist in apprehending the suspects and turning them over to local military.”

  “Quietly?”

  “It’s not the sort of thing you’d see on the news unless the mission went horribly wrong.”