The Detective’s Undoing

by Jill Shalvis

  “Scott Felton will be here shortly,” Edna said, which surprised Delia because the social worker had made it clear he would be present for every moment of this first meeting.

  At Delia’s unspoken question, something flickered across Edna’s face, something that looked suspiciously like guilt. “I might have led him to believe our meeting was for half an hour from now,” she said evenly.

  “Might have?”

  “Well…yes.” There was no disguising that flash of emotion now, though it was more good humor than remorse. “I wanted to see you for myself first,” Edna admitted

  Delia, who could act cool, calm and collected with the best of them, didn’t move, didn’t so much as give a hint of her nerves and fear and worry. “And?”

  “And…I like what I see.” With that, she sent Delia a genuine smile. “It’s funny, I never thought I’d find myself a parent, especially at my age.” She waited a beat. “But I have to say, there’s nothing quite as exhilarating—or as tiring—as a child.”

  Much as Delia wanted to meet her brother, she needed to feel out this situation. “You enjoy having him? He’s happy here?”

  “Yes to the first question, but as for the second, I haven’t a clue.” Edna sighed. “He’s eight years old, he’s been alone too long, neglected too long, and he’s a boy. Therefore he’s a master at hiding his feelings.”

  An unfortunate family trait, Delia thought.

  “When I found out about you,” Edna continued, casually pouring tea from a pot that looked like an heirloom, “I of course had you investigated.”

  “You what?”

  “You want custody and I had to be sure that if the courts decided he should be with you, instead of any alternatives, that you would be good for him.”

  “Alternatives? You didn’t intend to keep him?”

  “I’m willing, but I’m far too old for the boy. He won’t be happy here for long.” She set down her teacup and looked into Delia’s eyes. “He’s practically a baby, and I don’t take this responsibility lightly. I had to make sure you would take care of him the way he deserves to be taken care of. The way he hasn’t been taken care of until now.”

  Delia’s heart all but stopped. “He was abused?”

  “Not physically, no. But both his parents are dead, and even though they apparently didn’t do much more than feed and clothe him, they were his parents. They were all he knew.”

  Delia thought she’d gladly go after each and every person who’d ever hurt him. She had so much to give him, so much she wanted to tell him—

  “You don’t look anything like me.”

  Delia turned toward the small voice. Standing there, glaring at her with all his eight-year-old hurting self, as if she’d personally caused all his misery, was her brother. Jacob.

  He was right, they didn’t look alike. She had light blue eyes and his were so dark they looked black. Her facial features were narrow and his were round, though his body was all bony angles. Her hair was blond and his was dark and disheveled. In direct contrast to that, and the scowl on his face, his clothes were neat and clean, as if he’d dressed for her visit.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “No, we don’t look alike, do we,” she agreed quietly. “But I am your sister, and I’m very happy to meet you.”

  His narrow shoulders hunched. “Why?”

  Stunned, Delia glanced at Edna, who merely lifted a brow and remained silent. “I’m happy,” she said, turning back to the sullen little boy, “because I’ve always wanted more family.”

  “I don’t know you. You’re not my family.”

  As he spoke, his voice broke, and something inside Delia broke, as well. Rising, she moved close to the boy and hunkered down before him, not daring to touch him, though she wanted to so badly her hands shook. “I know it’s scary, but we are family. I want to get to know you.”

  He backed up a step, coming in contact with the doorjamb. Delia reached out a hand, but with his eyes suspiciously bright, he whirled and ran off. She watched him go, her chest tight and aching.

  She’d failed.

  “It’ll get easier,” Edna said softly after a moment. “Each time it will get easier.”

  Delia stared at the empty doorway, willing her spinning emotions into check, fiercely blinking against the tears she adamantly refused to shed. Nothing had ever come easy for her. Nothing. It seemed this wouldn’t, either. But she could do it. She could reach him.

  Chapter 4

  Delia tried everything, but Jacob refused to come out of his room. As kind and patient as Edna was, she refused to make him.

  Scott arrived, and he was everything his voice had promised on the phone: reserved, confident and direct. Delia was as tall as he was, something she sensed irked him. He had sun-kissed blond hair, cool assessing eyes and a definite opinion on Jacob. “He’s been through a lot,” he said after listening to how the meeting had gone. “We need to let him adjust slowly.”

  Delia bit her tongue because she knew this man was her link to the courts. He had influence there, as well as with Jacob, since the two of them had developed a friendship.

  “Jacob, buddy,” Scott called through the door, knocking twice.

  “You came!”

  The joy in the little boy’s voice was clear to all, and Scott beamed. He leaned closer to the door. “Ready for that pizza I promised you?”

  “Yeah!” A hesitation. “We’re going alone, right?”

  Scott glanced at Delia. “How about we invite your sister?”

  “Why?”

  “Because she came a long way just to see you.”

  “She never wanted to see me before.”

  “We talked about this, Jacob,” Scott said gently, still through the door. “She didn’t know about you before.”

  “Well, I don’t want to know her now.”

  Scott gestured for Delia to move with him away from the door so they couldn’t be overheard. “He’s scared,” he murmured.

  Delia stared longingly at the closed door. Frustration filled her. “I was hoping to spend some time with him today and tomorrow morning. I can only stay until tomorrow afternoon—I have to get back for the grand opening of our guest ranch.”

  Scott was silent at that, but she felt his disapproval. Isn’t Jacob more important than your guest ranch? his eyes seemed to ask.

  Of course Jacob was, but without the guest ranch, Delia would have no way to support herself, much less her brother. It was their security, their future, and she had to protect that, as well. “I’m not giving up,” she told Scott, determined. “I’m coming for pizza.”

  “That’s fine, but I’m not sure it’s wise to push right now.”

  Well, right now was all she had. “I’ll meet you there to give him a few minutes, if you’ll just tell me where.”

  As she said her goodbyes to Edna, the older woman grasped her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “Time,” she said softly. “It’ll all work out in time.”

  Delia wanted to point out that she didn’t have much time. She’d set the wheels in motion for a custody hearing, and while she was thankful Edna didn’t seem resentful but willing to go along with whatever the court decided, Delia knew the entire thing hinged on Jacob and his needs.

  If only he needed her. It was pathetic to think of it that way, but Delia was nothing if not brutally honest, especially with herself.

  In her entire life, not once had she ever been truly needed.

  Well, too bad, she told herself. She’d survived this long—she’d be fine. It was Jacob she had to worry about, not herself.

  Scott stopped her in the hallway. “You’re disappointed.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I knew it would be difficult, but…”

  His smile was sympathetic. “But not this difficult. Jacob’s got some things to work out. I think I can help him.”

  “You’re good with him.”

  His eyes warmed. “Yes. I…I’m very attached to him. I shouldn’t say this, but he’s my f
avorite. I care about him very much.”

  “And?” Delia paused. “I’m sure I heard one at the end of that sentence.”

  “And—” his smile faded “—I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think it’s wrong to rush him. To rush this reunion.”

  “It’s not a reunion, since we’ve never met before today, and you’re right, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Although she’d said it in a light tone, Scott stiffened. His eyes hardened. “I take my job very seriously, Ms. Scanlon. If I don’t like what I see between you and Jacob, I’ll make sure it’s in my report. And that report goes to the judge to be evaluated before his final decision.”

  Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the skipping of meals, or maybe it was the undeniable threat in Scott’s voice, but the blood pounded in her ears. Her vision shimmered. And as it had all her life, the threat of confrontation put her chin up and temper out.

  Cool as a cucumber, she smiled. “Jacob’s my brother. We’re related by blood. Yes, he’s upset and frightened, but once I get past that, he’ll come around. And you’ll see between us exactly what should be between family members. Affection. Warmth. Love.”

  “I’m not the enemy here,” Scott said. “But if there has to be sides, I’m on Jacob’s.”

  “That makes two of us.” Head high, she went out the front door. She was hurt, scared and furious. None of these showed.

  She blinked in the bright California sunshine and took a deep, shaky breath.

  What was she going to do? She had a brother who wouldn’t acknowledge her and a social worker with an attitude. She glanced back at the huge house. Had she really thought the monetary difference between Edna and her would be her biggest obstacle?

  Money had nothing to do with it.

  Jacob was just scared, she told herself. And thought himself alone in that. He wasn’t, whether he knew it or not.

  And at the thought, a very small bit of her anxiety slipped away. No, it hadn’t been the warm open-armed welcome she’d imagined, not even close, but she’d seen him, she’d looked into his dark troubled eyes and had recognized a kindred spirit.

  That, and all her hopes and dreams, would have to get her through.

  “Delia.”

  Jolted out of her musings by Cade’s husky voice, Delia came to a stop beside the rental car. He was leaning against the driver’s door, arms and ankles crossed.

  A casual pose. Not such a casual man.

  The sun was behind him, like a halo over his dark hair, shadowing his expression. But just the sight of him, waiting for her, did something strange to her insides.

  She wasn’t a woman easily affected by a man. There’d been few in her life she’d ever trusted, few she’d let know her, and fewer still who could trip her pulse.

  Yet this man did exactly that and more, which didn’t sit well with her. He was the opposite of everything she’d ever wanted. Security. Safety. And that other, that illusive thing she’d just today discovered about herself—that inexplicable need to be needed.

  Tall, dark and tempting as he was, Cade could give her none of that.

  “How did it go?” he asked, concern evident in every tense muscle.

  She really hadn’t had much chance to think about him and why he’d come. She’d been far too nervous and anxious about Jacob. Now she wondered what he was thinking and why she cared so much.

  “Hey.” Frowning, he straightened away from the car. “You okay?”

  No. No, she wasn’t okay. Wasn’t sure when she would be okay. “I…” Suddenly being in front of Edna’s house, with Scott probably watching her out the window, weighing her every move and planning her future around it, felt oppressing. “I need to get out of here,” she murmured as her headache kicked in. She rubbed her temples. “Can we…”

  “Yep.” With surprising gentleness, he steered her around the car and opened the door for her. She expected to be grilled, but he didn’t say a word, and she was grateful. “Here’s the address Scott gave me,” she said, handing him a slip of paper. “It’s where they’re going to go eat.”

  “Do we have some time?”

  “A little, maybe.” The pounding in her head made her dizzy, so she leaned back and closed her eyes. She heard the engine come on, but she didn’t move. It felt good just to drift.

  She must have fallen asleep because when the engine stopped, she jolted awake. They were at a park. “What…?”

  “You looked like you needed a minute first, and we never talked about which hotel—”

  “Hotel,” she repeated inanely. God, tonight. Sleeping. And Cade, his rough and tough body sprawled restlessly between the sheets. They’d probably be tangled around him, for she didn’t imagine he slept quietly.

  He gave a low and sexy chuckle. “Don’t you have enough to worry about without adding anything else?” he asked.

  “Yes, I—”

  “Tell me how it went with Jacob.”

  The quick change of subject, from teasing to seriousness, left her head spinning all the more. “It didn’t go very well,” she murmured. “In fact, I think it’s safe to say it went very badly.”

  With amazing tenderness—she never imagined Cade could be tender—he reached up and pulled her fingers away from her temples.

  “Hush,” he whispered, then slipped his own fingers through her hair and massaged her head.

  The moan slipped out of her before she could stop it, which horrified her. “Shh,” he said, and continued to work magic with his fingers.

  The windows were down. Around them were tall aspens, weaving in the light wind. The sun was warm. Children played in the distance, and birds and insects serenaded them. It was a lovely day, a lovely moment with his talented hands on her, and Delia began to relax.

  “I blew it,” she said. “I tried to rush Jacob when all I wanted to do was reach him. It was a fiasco.”

  “You’ll try again.”

  “How?”

  “You giving up already?”

  Her gaze whipped to his, registered the direct challenge there, and within a second her self-pity ceased. “Do I look like a quitter, McKnight?”

  His lips curved slowly as his gaze ran over her, lingering in spots that suddenly tingled, making her heart dance that funny little dance again. “No, ma’am,” he drawled. “You certainly don’t look like a quitter to me.”

  Darn it, but that smile of his was a lethal weapon. “Tell me again why you’re here. With me. And don’t give me the friend thing again. It doesn’t fly.”

  “No?” In the blink of an eye he was closer, so much so that she could feel his warm breath on her face. “Let’s try this, then.”

  And his mouth came down on hers.

  She made a noise that Cade took to mean she was surprised, but hell, that made them even. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but he did, and she tasted like heaven. Because he wanted more, he nibbled at her lips until she let him deepen the kiss. Now he made the noise of surprise because something happened, something really good. An almost forgotten sense of wicked abandon came over him.

  As his hands swept up and down her arms, she shivered, making that little sound again, the one that reminded him of a kitten getting its belly rubbed. He decided he liked that sound a lot.

  She clung to him, her fingers tangled in his hair as she held his head close, but he was so breathless from just that one kiss he tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck. He found skin so sweet and soft he had to explore it with his tongue. Then the sensitive spot beneath her ear drew him, and he kissed her there.

  She whispered his name on a sigh, making herself vulnerable in a way he hadn’t imagined this strong woman ever doing.

  It was startling, shocking, humbling.

  So was how much he wanted her.

  Rocked to the core, Cade leaned back just enough to see her face. His shock was mirrored right back at him, and more. There was stunned arousal, too. And fear.

  That had been no ordinary kiss, in fact, that had been like no
other kiss he’d ever had.

  Delia’s breath came in uneven little pants, and her lush mouth was still wet and now slightly swollen. Clearly she was in no better shape than he to examine what had just happened and why.

  “Time for pizza?” he asked, his voice gravelly with desire.

  “Yes!” she agreed quickly. “Yes.” Backing away, she adjusted her seat belt, ran a hand through her hair, anything to avoid meeting his eyes. But that was okay with Cade because he knew what was in his eyes—a mixture of confusion and lust, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to face either. Not with this woman, the one woman in far too long who seemed able to saunter right past his defenses directly to his heart.

  Switching on the ignition, he drove out of the quiet park and back into the real world, where he was just the private investigator on a case that would soon be over, and she was just a client. Where neither of them would be tempted again because they were wrong for each other, all wrong.

  Wrong for each other, he reminded himself at the pizza parlor where he watched Delia try to win the approval of a brother who wasn’t going to be easily reached.

  Wrong for each other, he reminded himself again on the drive to the hotel she’d chosen when it was all he could do to concentrate on the road, when he really wanted to snag the too-quiet Delia close for an embrace he was sure wouldn’t be entirely for comfort.

  Wrong for each other, he reminded himself yet again when they got to the hotel and their separate rooms, and Delia disappeared into hers, her willowy body slow with exhaustion, her eyes shadowed and troubled.

  Suddenly it hit him right there and then, with the force of a tornado, as he stood there in the hallway of the hotel holding his key in one hand and his heart in the other, ready to be crushed. Again.

  He was starting to fall.

  It wouldn’t, couldn’t happen. First of all, with the exception of that one amazing kiss, she didn’t want him. She wanted someone who could give her a home, a future. Love.

  He couldn’t do any of that.