“I suppose I should just be glad he didn’t kill anyone,” she said.
He grinned at her. “You could be his defense lawyer.”
She let out a chuckle and bit back on really laughing, fearful that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
Then he grew serious. “I’m just glad he didn’t kill you. Now let me take you home.”
As a cop, Dan put his life on the line every day. If anyone understood what she needed, it had to be him, she told herself.
“What about my car?” she asked.
“I can bring you back for it later.”
“All right,” she agreed. “Can you take me right home? I don’t need anything from my office, and I really don’t want anyone there knowing how much this has shaken me up.”
He looked down into her eyes for a long moment. “Sure,” he replied.
He took her home, but Justine never remembered the ride or telling him where she lived. What she remembered was the way he held her hand. His touch brought comfort warmth. She suddenly found herself outside her apartment.
Justine laughed, her laughter filled with embarrassment. “I’m still shaking,” she pointed out as she held up her hands to show him.
Dan didn’t share her amusement. He took both her hands and gave them a warm squeeze. Then he got out and went around the front of the car. Justine wanted to climb out, too, but didn’t trust her legs. Dan opened the door for her and took her hand again to help her out.
She let him. “I thought I was stronger than this,” she said.
Dan looked deep into her eyes for a long moment. The cold winter air blew around them, but couldn’t seem to penetrate the warmth of his gaze. “It’s like shock. It’s just a delayed reaction to fear, and it doesn’t make you a weak person, Counselor,” he said.
“Yes, I know,” she agreed, even though she didn’t quite believe it. “But you can’t believe how hard I have to keep working not to lose my lunch.”
“Yes I can.” He let go of her hand, and put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “Come on. Let’s get you warm.”
Her apartment was on the second floor, and he held her close for every step. Justine let him. It felt good to lean on someone for a change. At her door, she handed him her key.
“Thanks a lot for bringing me home, but you don’t have to stay,” she said. Was she trying to convince him, or herself? She couldn’t be sure.
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
He ushered her inside, and shut and locked the door behind them before taking her coat. Then he pushed her down onto her couch. There was a cotton afghan on one end, and he drew it gently around her shoulders. “Better?” he asked.
Justine hadn’t been aware of how cold she was until she felt the warmth of the blanket. Or was it the warmth of his closeness? “Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”
It was his closeness, she realized, because the warmth left when he got up.
“Where are you going?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“To make you a cup of tea.”
He headed for the kitchen as if he owned the place, and Justine didn’t care. She’d been on her own all through college, and it felt good to have someone take care of her. She leaned back and tried to relax, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw a gun pointed at her. She snuggled deeper into the blanket, and listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen. They were normal, everyday sounds—the sound of water running, the sounds of cabinets and drawers opening and closing, the sound of her microwave. They filled with her a sense of security unlike anything could.
“Can you find everything?” she called out to him.
“No problem,” he assured her.
When Dan returned a few moments later with a steaming mug of tea, it was all Justine could do not to throw herself into his arms.
“I hate feeling like this,” she said.
“What you’re feeling is just a normal response,” Dan replied. Their fingers brushed as he handed her the mug.
Justine held it with both hands and let the heat of it radiate up her arms.
Dan sat down beside her and put his arm across the back of her shoulders. It was a simple gesture, but his touch was wonderful, warm and comforting. It gave her the closeness and security she needed without violating her space. It pushed through the lingering fear and touched her with a sense of all things that were good. His fingers brushed the top of her arm and sent a tingle through her body.
“Thanks for staying,” Justine said.
“Anytime.”
Like his arm on her shoulders, the conversation was casual, as though his being there was nothing more than a friendly visit. But truthfully, Justine thought if he hadn’t been there she would have fallen completely to pieces and she would have ended up huddled in a corner crying.
For a long time, they sat together. Hips touching, sides touching. Souls somehow connecting.
Outside, the wind blew against the windows, and they could hear the distant sounds of car horns and engines. The rest of the world seemed far away to Justine as she sat in the comfort of Dan’s closeness and drank the tea he made for her.
Sometime later, Justine woke. Her tea mug was on the coffee table in front of her. And she had fallen asleep on him, only to wake with her head on his lap and the rest of her stretched out on the couch. Dan had one foot propped up on her coffee table, and had found the television remote. He sat watching the news.
He didn’t seem the least put out that she’d fallen asleep on him. In fact, he had one hand on her arm as if to hold her in place. She sensed his strength in the way he held her, but it was the gentleness in his touch that she really felt. And the shimmering current of his touch generated through her like a flowing river.
She wanted to touch him. Giving into the urge without hesitation, she reached out and covered his hand with her own. He was amazingly warm, and more comforting than any blanket he could ever wrap around her.
Noticing she was awake, he looked down.
“Have a nice nap?” he asked.
Justine sat up. “Yes, I—” She saw amusement in his eyes. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself and drool on you. How long have I been asleep?”
He shrugged as though time meant nothing. “Not long. And I doubt a little bit of drool will hurt me.”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep like that,” she stammered.
“It’s just another reaction, really, like being tired after running a race,” he explained. “You had an adrenaline rush in the courtroom, and it left you exhausted when you came crashing back down, that’s all.”
“Yes, but I fell asleep on you.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s okay. I like holding you close. Besides, I watched Jeopardy and some of the news. Oh, and the weather girl said the rain will continue.” Then he grew serious. “I’m just glad I could be here for you.”
She relaxed. But his hard gaze made it impossible for her to look away.
“Tell me,” he said. “Did you enjoy last night?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
“Last night was really nice,” he said. “And you let me bring you home today. You let me hold you. When I look in your eyes, I see what I feel, like trust, something like need. You trust me enough to let me stay, to sleep on my lap. Then suddenly, you pull away and put some distance between us. Care to tell me why?”
This man was direct, that was for sure. He gave his point of view as he saw it without twisting any words around in order to convince her of their meaning, as she had learned to do in her job. Then he just expected her to see things his way. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t beat around the bush. That characteristic mixed with his moves, like the one she’d seen today, he made a good, quick-thinking cop.
For the first time in a long time, except for when she wanted to argue with him over her ticket, she was uncertain of what to say. What was it about Daniel Franklin that caused her to lose thought? Probably the same thing that affected her when they kissed
, but Justine didn’t allow herself to think about it just then.
“This might be moving a little fast for me,” she said, when nothing better came to mind.
“I haven’t asked for any promises, Counselor,” he pointed out.
“I don’t know if I could give any even if you had,” she said without thinking. What was wrong with her? Now he had her speaking before she thought. What could be next? Justine wanted to find out as much as she didn’t want to find out. Besides with the way she reacted to him, the comfortable security she felt when she was with him, he might be asking for more than simple promises. He might be asking for something much deeper, much closer to her soul. Something she might not be able to say no to giving him.
“Why not?” he asked bluntly.
She might twist words in a courtroom, but Daniel Franklin was no jury. He would expect nothing less than her saying exactly what she thought. “You’re a cop,” she replied.
He didn’t reply for a long moment.
A moment that left her feeling as if she were standing close to the edge of cliff and there was the chance she could fall if she didn’t keep her balance.
“I was when I got up this morning. And?” he finally prompted.
“And cops have bad hours, dangerous jobs. They’re at risk every day.”
He grinned suddenly and it sent Justine’s heart racing. She’d seen that look before on others. It was a grin she’d seen in the courtroom, the same grin used when the lawyer for one side knew he’d won. And she didn’t like seeing it on Dan.
“Dangerous, huh?” he echoed. “At risk?”
“Yes,” she insisted.
“No one has shot at me since I left Chicago and came here,” he said. “Your job puts you in contact with just as many criminals as mine does. Maybe even more.”
“Yes, but you’ve already taken their weapons away from them by the time I meet up with them,” Justine argued. “And besides not all of mine are—”
“Guilty,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know. But they might be. And they can find weapons in other places, just as today has shown us.”
Justine feared there was no winning with him. What she feared even more was the fact that she didn’t really want to win. She fought the urge to reach into his shirt and find out if his chest was as warm as his hand, and she couldn’t remember ever wanting to do that with anyone else.
“If your job isn’t more dangerous than mine, how come you get to carry a gun and I don’t?” she asked.
“Listen, why don’t we forget about this for now,” Dan suggested, not answering her question. “It’s been a long day for both of us. I didn’t mind that you fell asleep. We could order a pizza, watch television and just take it easy this evening.”
When Justine said nothing, he went on, “And if you’re worried about my job, we can just take this slow.”
Yes, but when he touched her, there was nothing slow about her heart.
“We could just try being friends,” Dan said.
Justine nearly laughed. There was so much animal magnetism between them the hair on the back of her neck stood up when he watched her. Friends? She had plenty of friends, and not one of them sent tingles up her back like he did. And she had no desire to kiss or touch her other ‘friends.’ Just thinking about his kiss made her face burn with the need for another. Justine almost came out and told him as much, but again she couldn’t find the words. So in the end, she agreed, even though she thought she were suddenly living out one of the biggest lies of her life.
“All right we can try.” She thought it was probably a lot like trying put out a forest fire with a garden hose. At the same time, she knew it was the right thing to do, take things slowly, and see where they went. It gave her the chance to get to know him better.
From the conversation to the beer and pizza, the rest of the evening flowed by like a smooth river. For that short time, Justine really thought they could be ‘friends.’ Best friends.
Dan was at ease in her apartment. And she got the strange impression he belonged there.
It was after ten when he started to get up. “I’d better go. We both have work tomorrow.”
He pulled her into his arms, and she knew without a doubt they could never be just friends. But she was determined to take things slow, no matter how good or wonderfully safe and secure it felt to be wrapped in his arms.
“Feeling better now?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Because I can stay if you need me,” he offered.
Justine bit her lip to keep from saying ‘yes, stay.’ But it was too early, their relationship too was new. Even if he stayed and slept on the sofa, it wouldn’t feel right to her.
And the last thing she wanted was for him to be a one-night-stand.
“Really, I’m fine,” she insisted.
He kissed her. His lips were soft, gentle. He didn’t rush her, didn’t make any demands, and didn’t push her.
He did, however, place his hands on either side of her face and hold her to him. His touch alone told her they could never just be friends. His kiss was enough to practically set her on fire. It was as if everything within her stopped so that she might experience every aspect of his touch. Justine didn’t remember moving and she was surprised to find she’d moved her arms to hold him.
He slowly pulled away. “I’ll pick you up at seven in the morning to take you to get your car,” he said, his voice sounding raspy and deeper than usual.
“You don’t have to, I could call—”
“I’ll be here.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Her heart did a sort of flutter at the anticipation.
A moment later he was gone.
But hours later, she was still not able to sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of Dan’s arms or how safe she felt with him or the fact that she would see him in the morning.
Yes, his job frightened her but she still tasted his kiss on her lips, and just friends or not, she would worry over him. He wasn’t the kind of man she ever pictured being with, yet after only one day, she couldn’t imagine life without him.
And just friends?
She finally gave into the urge and laughed out loud.
Chapter 10
Standing in the middle of the road leading into the campground, Dan watched the sun slowly sink into the horizon and clenched his fists to keep from pulling his own hair out. Memories flashed through his thoughts like a slide show.
His parting words to Justine before she left.
Holding her deep in the night.
The taste of her kiss.
Her soft touch when she slipped her fingertips through his hair.
The blood on her face.
Night closed in. It wasn’t even cold, but he shivered.
He tried to ignore the lab techs who went over the get-away van with a fine-toothed comb. In fact, Dan stood around waiting like all the others for the results. It was the hardest wait he’d ever endured. His insides shook, and he wondered if any of the others saw it. Dan realized he would certainly have more sympathy for victims in the future.
Steve brought him a cup of coffee. “You should go home,” he suggested.
“Would you go home?” Dan asked, doing his best to keep the frustration out of his voice. He did want to go home. But his eagerness to do that would raise questions he couldn’t answer.
“No,” Steve said. “But I thought it was worth a try.”
“Did you know she’s terrified of the dark?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t hardly bat an eye when it comes to going up against the toughest judges in the county, but turn out the lights and Justine loses it.”
For a long moment, Steve said nothing. Hell, Dan knew there was nothing he could say. Then, “Have you thought about Justine’s mom and dad?
“I put off calling them,” Dan said. “I kept hoping Justine would be back in my arms safe and sound before then. And I hoped when I finally did have to call, it would be wit
h good news.”
“I wouldn’t put if off for too long. I’d hate for them to hear about this on the news. Do you want to go back to the station with me and take a look at the store security video yet?”
“Not yet,” Dan replied. He kept his gaze on the get-away van. “I can’t believe we haven’t yet found one shred of evidence that could lead us in the right direction,” he muttered. Dan didn’t look at Steve, knowing full well his best friend would read the fear in his eyes.
He took a sip of the coffee Steve had brought him, and let the hot, bitter liquid burn down his throat. The pain was easy to ignore. Just as the ache in his arm was. Neither surpassed the painful knife that cut through his gut with his worry for his wife.
He had been offered countless painkillers, but he settled for chewing up a dose of plain aspirin. He wanted to keep his mind sharp, and the pain did that.
He should have called Justine’s parents by now. There hadn’t been any press yet. They’d managed to keep this pretty quiet, but Dan knew it was only a matter of time before the media got wind of this. The news media, as well as the public, seemed to love and live for crime in small towns where everyone thought it could never happen. Steve was right, the last thing he wanted was for Justine’s parents and brothers to hear about her abduction over the news.
Dan could just see Justine’s mother, Abigail, now. It was Abby—as she insisted he call her—from whom Justine inherited her strength. Not that Roger didn’t have his own strength, his was just gentler. Abby would hold all her terror inside and look straight at Dan with dry eyes when she heard the news. And Dan knew that Justine addressed a jury with the same hard look in her eyes.
He didn’t want to tell them. Terror gripped him with the thought that he might tell them too much; that once he started talking, he might not be able to stop.
Should he call? Or should he make the thirty-mile trip to look them in the eye when he told them? He knew he should see them face-to-face, be there to give them what comfort he could. But what if something happened while he was gone? And what kind of real comfort could he offer? He couldn’t seem to do anything to help himself but chew up aspirin.
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