Lily raised a brow and he eyed her narrowly.
“I have another room,” he declared. The expression on his face was so earnest, so eager to do the right thing, Lily smiled.
Rafael was trying to prove something by taking care of their boss and it made her feel sad—as if one of them was growing up.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll drop you guys off.” She shrugged as he handed her his car keys. And though neither of them said anything, they both knew if he mucked this up, his fledgling career as a scientist was over.
Nine hours later, Susie walked into the police station on North Street feeling as if she’d been beaten over the head with a baseball bat. She wore a Quiksilver T-shirt of Rafael’s under a zippered moss-green chunky cable sweater that smelled brand new and hung to her knees. The ensemble was finished off with Lily’s black Lycra pants that rested just below her knees. She wore no underwear, no makeup and her sneakers felt damp. Her usually well-groomed hair was a straggly mess that she’d straightened as best she could without a brush. At least it disguised the mottled bruise that covered one side of her temple.
Altogether she looked very, very unattractive, but strangely she felt stronger and more confident than ever before. Her mother would have a fit if she saw her now, but Susie was finally breaking the mold she’d squeezed herself into years ago. Leanne would jump with glee and even Dela, who must be up in Heaven, would be proud.
Poor, darling Dela. They’d gone on vacation to get over being dumped by the men in their lives. Events that seemed so important at the time, but one week later had turned out to be insignificant.
She walked up to the glassed-in desk. “Can you page Detective Inspector Nick Archer for me, please?” Her accent stood out and marked her as a stranger here. But St. Andrews was her home now and she was determined to make it work.
The woman P.C. behind the security window eyed her with the hint of a smile. There was a plastic pumpkin on the shelf that reminded Susie it was Halloween.
“I’ll let him know there’s someone here to see him, just go through and take a seat.”
The woman pointed to a small waiting area and Susie walked inside and sat, settling her head against the cool wall at her back and closing her eyes.
A moment later there were footsteps and the rustle of a newspaper.
“You look better in print.”
Susie half opened her eyes and saw a police officer standing before her. She frowned as he handed her a copy of a tabloid newspaper, and saw a grainy black-and-white photograph of her and Nick kissing.
“Great.” She thrust the paper away. “Why would anyone care about my love life?” Pain throbbed as she shook her head; she must be due another pain pill soon.
“How long have you been seeing D.I. Archer?”
Susie rubbed her eyes. “Not long.” And it struck her that she wasn’t the only one in that photograph. “Who are you?”
The man smiled, but despite the curved lips his eyes were wintry. “I’m P.C. Mosel.”
“So you work with Nick?” Susie sat up, not liking the other man’s calculating expression.
“That’s correct.” P.C. Mosel picked up the paper and read aloud. “Top police detective embroiled in murder investigation still finds time for romance with daughter of United States senator.”
Susie closed her eyes as a shiver ran across her shoulders. Damn.
“I’m just wondering why you haven’t been questioned given we found blood and the murder weapon in your car?”
Susie felt welded to the spot under the weight of the man’s suspicious gaze.
“Is it the fact you’re sleeping with the lead detective or the fact your mother is a high-ranking politician?”
The shiver bloomed into a full shudder that worked its way down her spine. She frowned, confused. “I thought you had Tracy’s killer locked up?”
“The investigation is ongoing.” The man’s lips tightened and he looked away. They heard footsteps, and Nick walked into the waiting room and caught sight of Susie.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Susie touched her hand to her scalp. She’d forgotten about her bruise. “It’s nothing.”
Nick shot the uniformed officer a look from beneath lowered brows. “Why do I get the impression my ears should be burning?”
The P.C. held up the newspaper and pointed to the photograph.
Nick snorted. “One of these days you’ll learn to read and then we’ll really be in trouble.”
Indignation twisted the man’s features, but Nick ignored him, maneuvering Susie through the inner doorway into the heart of the police station. “I was worried.” He supported her with a hand around her waist, up the stairs into an empty, tightly crammed office. He closed the door and they were alone.
She pressed a hand to her stomach. “That officer said there was blood in my car—”
“There were traces from the bottom of my shoes the night of the murder. I intend to get it valet cleaned as soon as they release it from evidence.”
Oh. Susie sagged into a chair, too exhausted to process the information.
Last night Rafael had woken her every time she’d drifted off for more than thirty minutes and while she appreciated the sentiment, she needed sleep and needed it badly. Otherwise she was going to collapse.
“I just came for my keys.” Her sore throat made her cough, and coughing sent pain shooting in a million different directions behind her eyes.
Nick was silent. She squinted at him. She might not look good, but he wasn’t cutting the Hollywood auditions either. His eyes were bloodshot, the stubble on his cheeks darkening his jaw and making him look rough and not just dangerous, but deadly. His features were cut too deep, blond hair standing up in ragged spikes.
“Where were you? I called, but there was no reply.” He raised a finger to her bruise, but she flinched away.
“I stayed at Rafael’s house.” His expression shifted and she knew she’d go to hell for baiting him. But as anger seeped into his green eyes, she laughed. It was inappropriate—like smiling during a cremation. She wasn’t going to play games. “Nothing happened, Nick. He’s my student, for heaven’s sake. I went for a run, tripped and hit my head on a rock.” Disorientated by the injury, she’d also managed to scare herself silly on the beach afterward, but she wasn’t going to admit that to anyone. “When I came around, I crawled home and found Rafael on my doorstep.”
“What was he doing there?”
So much for sympathy. Maybe Nick didn’t realize she was being literal.
“I’ve no idea and, frankly, I don’t give a damn.”
Nick’s trust issues were as wide and deep as the Atlantic and out-competed basic human emotions like compassion or sympathy. It was one more reason they’d never work out. She was a wuss. A softy. He was…something else entirely.
His eyes moved over her features and, by the way his features tightened, he was obviously trying to suppress anger or jealousy. Or maybe she was deluding herself? Maybe he wasn’t feeling anything at all. Octopi demonstrated more emotion.
“Look Nick, I just came by because I lost my keys when I tripped. I’ll search the beach for them later, but with the tide…” She shrugged. She’d never find them. “Rafael and Lily took me to the ER last night and then Rafael let me sleep at his house and checked on me throughout the night because I had a mild concussion.” She forced her lips into a smile. “He was a real sweetheart.”
She expected fury but got the sort of frozen stillness that reminded her of a predator armed with long sharp teeth poised to strike. His eyes glittered—busy trying to figure out if she’d screwed her student while she’d had the chance. Trying to work out just how big a slut she really was.
Nice.
Her eyes watered and she curled her fingers into her palm because finally she knew she was worth more than that. “Look, we aren’t working out. I’ll just grab my keys and say goodbye.”
“Don’t.” Something unreadable flickered across his fac
e and he took a step toward her. “Don’t.”
He moved closer, brushing past her to open a drawer. Keys jingled as he stepped away.
“Let me drive you home.” A small dimple punched the corner of his mouth even though the light in his eyes dimmed.
“No,” said Susie. Nick had already seen her weak and exposed. It was time to reconstruct the barriers, to end it before she got her heart broken. Obliterated. She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her.
“Look, Susie…” He ran his hands through his hair, flattening the tufts. “I’m sorry you had a rough night. I called you a few times, but then I got caught up in work.”
Work was important. She understood work. But it only emphasized all the reasons they were wasting their time together. They’d never have time for a relationship. They just squeezed in sex—fantastic sex—but just sex and she shouldn’t kid herself it was more. And she wanted more. She wanted a baby. The last few days had made her realize she should grab life and wrestle it kicking and screaming into the shape she desired.
It was humbling, but she finally conceded she didn’t even need a man to get pregnant. She seemed to have a flaw inside her that was attracted only to the “love ’em and leave ’em” types. But she had a good job to support herself, and even though her mother would never approve of her being a single parent, it wasn’t Susie’s problem. She’d call some fertility clinics and arrange an appointment as soon as her head stopped rotating in the opposite direction to the earth.
Voices echoed down the corridor.
“Come on,” Nick urged her with a glance at the door. “Rocket needs a walk and I want to check up on Emily.” He smiled and Susie felt a funny little twist somewhere in the region of her chest.
Nick’s colleagues were just outside the door. She stood awkwardly, clutching the desk behind her to stop swaying. A group of police officers opened the door and squeezed into the tiny office.
“What happened to you?” Ewan held two mugs of steaming coffee. He put them both on a desk then swept aside her hair and checked out her bruise. He whistled. “That’s a stoater. How d’you do it?”
“I fell on a rock.”
“That’d do it.” Ewan squeezed her shoulder.
“Beating up your girlfriend, Nick?” Another officer shot her a smile and a wink.
“I only hit real men,” Nick said without taking his gaze from hers. “You’re safe.”
They huffed out laughs.
“I’m driving Dr. Cooper home. I’ll be back in a few hours.” His eyes dared her to refuse him.
God, she wanted to, but the words evaporated in her throat because there was this gossamer-thin thread of hope inside her that maybe she could have everything she wanted—if only for a short time.
“Good idea. Make sure she gets home safe.” Ewan patted her arm and Susie swallowed back tears. Why would this man’s awkward attempt at comfort make her weep?
Nick took her hand, his fingers gently entwined with hers as he pulled her away from the support of the desk. “Let’s get you home, Susie Q.”
Susie was hyperaware of all eyes on her. How many others had the same suspicions as P.C. Mosel? She straightened her shoulders and tried not to show how uncomfortable she felt being in the spotlight.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Ewan’s eyes crinkled. “Your car is due back today. I’ll arrange to have it cleaned and drop it off this afternoon.”
Gratitude overwhelmed her. “That would be fantastic, Ewan, thank you.” Her car meant freedom and she needed that.
Nick hustled her out of the building. Sunbeams streamed over St. Salvator’s clock tower as they turned east and somehow they were holding hands. It took a moment to register and when she glanced at his face, he had a grim set to his mouth.
“Why, Nick? Why drag this on when we both know it won’t last?” They strolled along the sidewalk like real lovers, the smell of the sea teasing her soul like wishes and confetti.
“We’re not done, Susie.” He turned to her with a smile and lifted her off her feet, his body solid against hers. She rested her sore head against his shoulder and breathed in his scent. She had a feeling by the time Nick was done with her she’d be nothing but a quivering, weeping mess. But maybe by then she’d have something else to hold on to.
Nick opened the door to his flat and a hairy bullet shot down the steps to cock his leg on a small patch of grass. Rocket took a leak with a resentful gleam in his black eyes.
“Sorry, boy.” Nick herded the bouncing bearded collie back up the steps. Poor bugger hadn’t been out since dinnertime last night. Nick should have taken him back to Dougie’s, but he’d been foolish enough to believe this investigation was over.
Susie hovered at the bottom of the stone steps that ran up the outside of his house. The bottom floor was a workshop and storage area. He’d been thinking of converting the whole building into living space, but hadn’t got around to it yet. She looked pale. Nick frowned at the bump on her head.
What had happened last night? And why had Rafael Domenici been there to pick up the pieces?
Professional distrust melded with male territoriality, but he wasn’t jealous of the Latino prick. He wasn’t that freaking juvenile. Domenici had been charged with rape, he was a suspect in a murder investigation and Susie had been alone with him all night.
But Susie was here safe and sound, so what did it matter?
He’d spent a useless night searching the Student Union surveillance tapes with nothing to show for it except pinning down separate arrival times for Callie Sizemore and Rafael Domenici. He didn’t know when they left—they must have exited through the side door onto the street—but they hadn’t been picked up on the Market Street camera, which left him exactly nowhere.
He’d already requested polygraphs from all his suspects, but he was skeptical as to whether or not they’d be any better than he was at revealing who was lying. But even asking for the polygraph might reveal something useful. Like who had something to hide. If Judy were innocent it left Jake wide open with no alibi. Or maybe Callie and Rafael were in it together? Some sort of lovers’ pact?
Nick felt as if he was missing a vital piece of the puzzle, but was too tired to see straight.
“After you.” Nick waved Susie up the stone steps and into his home. It was the first time he’d let a woman enter this sanctuary, except Leanne, who didn’t count. He followed Susie and saw the apartment through her eyes. Sparsely furnished with solid oak pieces he’d gradually been restoring. French doors that led to a tiny balcony with the view of the harbor. A big-ass TV and a hairy couch. No pictures. If he wanted a seascape he opened the curtains. He didn’t need a photograph of Chrissie to remember her. Her image was etched on his mind like an acid engraving.
The only thing on the wall was a wooden crucifix.
Susie pointed to the cross, a crease pulling at her brows. “I didn’t know you were religious.” She tried unsuccessfully to hide her skepticism and he smiled.
“It belonged to a friend.” He shrugged. His relationship with the church had little to do with God and everything to do with a man he’d called Father Mike.
“Your family?” she asked.
“I don’t have family.” His relationship with Susie was getting complex and personal, and yet he was the one who’d refused to end it. He walked into the bedroom, flicked a glance at his bed where he hadn’t slept in days, grabbed a change of clothes, picked up his shaving kit and came back into the living room. If he were honest he’d admit he’d considered getting Susie naked, but she was hurt and needed sleep and maybe he wasn’t as big a bastard as he’d always thought.
She opened the curtains and stared out to sea, the sun flooding her skin with golden light, but her eyes looked distant and sad. Something about the image made words dissolve on his tongue. He couldn’t speak.
“I saw your grave that day you had lunch with Candace,” she said.
Her words registered somewhere in the dim recesses of his mind. He frowned. “
My grave?” Then it clicked and he snorted. “Emily had that headstone made. I couldn’t convince her I wouldn’t rest next to Chrissie for eternity. Not after what she did.”
And that still hurt, knowing that the promises he’d made before a God he’d believed in had turned to dust.
Susie faced him, big blue eyes shining with empathy. And something that looked suspiciously like love. Dammit. He knew he should leave her alone. Why hadn’t he let her finish things between them? He’d told himself he wasn’t finished with her yet. Not just sexually. There were those secrets of hers that intrigued him, and a need to make her realize she was a good person, better than him, that was for damn sure. But what would it do to her self-esteem if she found out he’d used her to steal her card and break into the Gatty the night Tracy was killed?
“Let’s go.” He jerked his head and Rocket shot out the door. Susie swept past him, but her now guarded expression tore at his conscience. He reached out, stroked the pad of his finger down the soft skin of her cheek. “It’ll be all right.”
The look in her eyes told him she didn’t believe him and he sucked back a breath because she was right. She walked into the Fife morning, silent and brooding. But he didn’t have time to deal with this emotional crap right now. He had a killer to catch and Susie needed a ride home. That was all.
He cared about her—so what? It didn’t mean he was about to declare undying love. Nick never wanted to feel that soul-sucking sensation ever again. Susie deserved better than him, but he was addicted to her as certainly as his mother had been addicted to heroin. No doubt about it, withdrawal was going to hurt like a bitch.
Chapter Nineteen
Susie opened her eyes and stared at the vision of a clean-shaven Nick Archer sleeping soundly at her side. There was a jolt in the region of her heart. Light cut through the drapes and made his cheeks look as smooth as weathered granite and his hair as soft as ermine. He was naked, stretched out face-down on top of the white duvet. Planes of strong muscle covered his back, no hint of spare flesh, no soft edges. Beautiful.
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