“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Carlotta exclaimed as she accepted the box. She grinned excitedly at one of her teammates standing nearby. “Aunt Laura gives awesome gifts,” Laura heard her tell the teenage girl before they walked away.
Joey chuckled. “High praise.”
Laura fondly watched Carlotta unwrap her gift surrounded by eight or nine other volleyball players. Joey’s energetic wife, Shelly, had decorated the large family room and adjoining dining room with an assortment of congratulatory signs and streamers in the girls’ school colors.
A crowd of more than fifty people glanced over when Carlotta withdrew the silver volleyball charm and squealed in delight.
“To be sixteen again,” Joey muttered with undisguised envy.
Laura studied him as he watched his daughter. With every passing day he seemed to resemble their father more and more: the same thin, angular face, the aquiline nose, the warm brown eyes.
Even as she watched, however, those expressive eyes flickered across the room furtively. She opened her mouth to ask him why he seemed so anxious when her gaze followed Joey’s. Her expression stiffened.
She faced her brother. “What’s he doing here?” she hissed under her breath.
Joey looked down at her, his expression stricken. “I’m sorry, Laura. I meant to warn you before you saw him. I was as surprised as you are when he showed up. I saw him down at Headquarters today and invited him to the party. I never guessed Dom would actually come.”
“Shane?” Laura asked incredulously. That hadn’t been the person to whom she’d referred.
Her head swung around.
Their eyes met immediately. Laura had no idea how she could have missed him. His presence commanded the entire room. He sat in a lounge chair close to the fireplace, long legs bent, his knees slightly spread. She was relieved to see that he wore jeans and not his work attire, hoping that meant he hadn’t come to Joey’s house in any official capacity. He pinned her steadily with his stare, his blue eyes seeming all the more brilliant set off as they were by his dark complexion and a black knit shirt.
Despite his impassivity, Laura knew with some second sense she possessed when it came to Shane that he directed a powerful beam of concentrated anger at her. Shane had always possessed a singular brand of intensity. He was furious, yes, but there was something else in his gaze.
Frustration.
She forced her expression into a neutrality that matched his, her eyes skimming past the white-haired, distinguished-looking man who stood on the other side of the fireplace. Randall Moody’s pale blue eyes watched her with a predator’s focus, his gaze eerily at odds with his benevolent countenance.
It had been Moody’s presence that had caught her attention when she’d glanced into the crowded room. That’s why she hadn’t immediately noticed Shane.
Laura swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the prickly sensation on the back of her neck undoubtedly caused by Shane’s continued stare.
“I meant Moody,” she whispered to her brother. “Since when do you socialize with the likes of him?”
Joey looked uncomfortable. “Moody’s not so bad.”
“Not so bad?” Laura muttered, stunned. It suddenly struck her that Joey had assumed she was anxious because of Shane’s presence because he was more nervous about Shane being there than Randall Moody. The realization created a sensation like a lead ball settling in her stomach.
“Is Shane here because of the CPD investigation?” she asked. She stepped closer, forcing her brother to look at her when he’d just glanced away uneasily. “Has he been asking you questions?”
“A few,” Joey said evasively.
“Why are you acting so nervous, Joey?”
Joey gave her an insulted look. “There isn’t a cop in the department that wouldn’t be shitting bricks if Dom came within a hundred feet of him at this point.”
She opened her mouth to ask Joey whether Shane was asking questions as a friend or in an official capacity, but Carlotta touched her arm.
“Thank you so much, Aunt Laura,” the vibrant girl said excitedly. She held up her hand. The silver charm bracelet that Laura had given her when she turned eight years old glittered on her wrist, the tiny inscribed volleyball having been added to the other charms Laura had given her over the years.
“It looks great,” Laura complimented.
“We’re going to cut the cake,” Shelly called out from the dining room.
Laura had difficulty concentrating for the next ten minutes. On the surface she appeared to be chatting amiably with Carlotta and her teammates as they ate blue-and-gold-frosted cake and the girls related all the details of their championship game to Laura. In reality she was hyperaware of the small group that stood several feet away from her that consisted of Joey, Shane, Shelly, and Randall Moody. The cake she tried to eat felt like dry dust when she saw the way Shane pinned Moody with his steady stare.
Laura could tell by Shelly’s broad smile and frequent laughter as they ate the cake that their conversation had nothing to do with the FBI investigation of the CPD. Still, icy fingers of panic uncurled inside of her when Moody glanced over and gave her a friendly nod. For a few tense seconds she thought he was about to come over to talk to her.
“How about if we help your mom out and clear up some of these dishes?” Laura asked Carlotta briskly.
“Sure,” Carlotta agreed.
Carlotta and her friends retrieved glasses and plates from the kitchen and family room while Laura rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She straightened from leaning over the dishwasher, reaching out for the plate being extended toward her automatically. Her head swung around when whoever held it refused to let go. She found herself staring up into a pair of penetrating blue eyes.
“Shane,” she mumbled, stunned not only by his sudden presence but his nearness. Her gaze sank to the grim line of his firm lips. Against her will all the images and sensations of him leaning down and consuming her flooded her awareness.
A week had passed since they’d shared that torrid, tumultuous moment on her living room couch. Huey’s funeral had occurred in the interim. The FBI’s crime lab had issued a report that indicated that there was no evidence for considering Huey’s death to be caused by anything other than the suicide his note alleged it to be. Her house had been broken into and she’d managed to either avoid or sidetrack Shane when he tried to get her to talk to him. She’d sold two of her sculptures and a painting during that time period and paid all the monthly bills, enormously relieved to have been able to pay off a good portion of Huey’s remaining gambling debts.
Thousands of other things had occurred in the week since she’d burned beneath Shane on that couch. But it felt as if thirty seconds hadn’t passed from that moment when she’d looked into his stormy eyes while his cock stretched and filled her.
From that moment when he’d forced her to feel.
She staggered back one step, her hip hitting the kitchen counter hard. She winced. His hand came up to her elbow to steady her, but his touch had the opposite effect on her. Her heartbeat began to drum unnaturally loud in her ears.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I am,” she replied coolly. She tried to look over Shane’s shoulder to assure herself that no one was in the kitchen with him, but he was too tall . . . too broad in the shoulders for her to see.
And he stood too close, making it difficult for her to maintain an emotional distance. She yanked the empty plate from his grip and turned to resume her former activities.
“What do you want?” she finally asked when she noticed from the corner of her eye that he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I want a lot of things.”
She glanced over at the sound of his low, suggestive tone. For a few seconds she was once again caught in the snare of his eyes.
What did he see when he looked at her? Laura couldn’t help but wonder. The woman who had betrayed him? An object of hatred? An object on which to expend his lust?
Bitter tears stung her eyes at the realization that it had all come to this.
She told herself to look away, but instead her gaze lowered over his hard, determined jaw.
She’d always found Shane’s face compelling. There wasn’t a trace of softness to be found anywhere in all those rugged angles and stark planes. With her artist’s imagination she’d often envisioned his face beneath a Roman battle helm, one that might have once been worn by a Dominic ancestor. While his father had gifted him with his dark, Italian good looks, he’d received his blue eyes from his Irish-American mother. The effect of those eyes in his dark face was startling . . . breathtaking even. Laura guessed Shane had a similar effect on just about every woman he encountered.
He exuded a raw sexuality that drew her—intimidated her because it was almost impossible to resist. She’d been attracted to his quiet, forceful energy since they were children. Even as a boy Shane had possessed that inherent confidence, a genuine comfort in his own skin that drew people to him. His charisma had only grown as he matured. He’d been potent enough when he’d been her lover when he was twenty-four, but at the age of thirty-seven, Shane was clearly just entering his prime.
His magnetic pull on her had grown exponentially more powerful. If he knew the effect he had on her, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against her. Nevertheless she couldn’t stop herself from gazing longingly at the cleft in his determined chin and recalling what the sexy indentation felt like beneath her lips and tongue.
She didn’t realize she’d been staring until she saw one dark eyebrow arch up in mocking amusement.
“One of the things that I’d like more than anything is the truth, Laura,” he murmured. “I wonder if you even know what that is anymore.”
Her eyes widened in alarm when he stepped closer.
“Another thing I’d like is to be buried deep inside you again.”
For a second she thought she’d hallucinated the words, imagined the manner in which his deep voice vibrated with barely restrained emotion. His nostrils flared slightly when she met his gaze. For a second or two she stood frozen, a deer caught in the harsh, stunning impact of high-beamed headlights.
She turned away, intent on escape, but he stopped her with a hand on her elbow.
“Let’s go over to your place. We need to talk.”
She yanked her arm out of his hold. Her gaze flickered over to the dining room. It was now empty.
“Looking for Randall Moody? He left five minutes ago. Let’s go, Laura.”
“Did you come here to question Joey?” she stalled, trying to find some secure footing on which to hold herself at a distance from Shane. He’d put his hand back on her upper arm and was molding her flesh softly, as though to soothe her skittishness. If anything his touch made her more nervous, however.
“No. I came here to find you,” he stated bluntly. “I figured you couldn’t avoid me at your own niece’s party like you have all week. Now listen to what we’re going to do. I’m going to leave in ten minutes or so. Carlotta wants to show me her new puppy out in the garage. Wait until you see Carlotta come back inside and leave a few minutes later. I’ll wait for you in my car and follow you to your house.”
“I’m not ready to leave yet,” she said coldly, turning back to the counter.
“Maybe you want me to come up with some questions for Joey . . . like why he’s so tight with Randall Moody? Is that it?”
She looked over her shoulder. “You’re a bastard, Shane Dominic.”
He leaned down until he was just inches away from her upturned face. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Laura.”
Shane blasted the heat but it had no discernable effect on the frigid temperature of the interior of his car for an uncomfortable minute. He kept his eyes trained on the front door of Joey’s house.
Would she come? He had everything in place to carry out his plan, but he still hadn’t completely decided if he was out of his mind for attempting it. The other part of him wondered if he wasn’t just putting off the inevitable in the name of caution. He’d seen the way Randall Moody looked at Laura. She’d been too good at avoiding Moody’s gaze not to have been hyperaware of it.
Laura wasn’t safe. He could feel it in his bones.
When he’d told her that whoever had broken into her house had done so because they were looking for her, he’d seen the flicker in her eyes. She’d realized he was correct at that moment.
And then she’d proceeded to lie and tell him she had no idea what he was talking about.
Well, he was done with the lies that came out of her pretty little mouth. Laura’s avoidance of him ended tonight.
After several more minutes of waiting for Laura, a flicker of light caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. For a suspended second he clearly saw the face of the man in the driver’s seat parked a quarter of a block down the street, cigarette perched between his lips—thin, pale face, sandy-colored hair. A chord of recognition struck Shane’s consciousness. It’d been twelve years since he’d last seen the man’s face.
The man had been staring with hawklike intensity at Joey’s front door in the second before his lighter went out. Shane’d just been looking expectantly at Joey’s house as well . . . waiting for Laura.
Having already said his good-byes, Shane had left from a side door in the garage after Carlotta had proudly shown him the rambunctious golden retriever puppy she’d received for her birthday. He’d been cloaked in darkness as he made his way to his car. Although the smoking guy had likely noticed his headlights go on, he’d probably assumed Shane’d come out of one of the houses across the street from Joey’s.
He slowly reached beneath his jacket and unsnapped the leather holster holding his gun.
The front door opened and Laura stood for a moment in the archway, light surrounding her. She leaned back and gave a kiss to someone standing just inside the door before she turned and walked down the front steps. The door shut behind her.
For a few uncomfortable seconds Shane couldn’t see her as she made her way through the dark yard. He caught sight of her as she started down the sidewalk thanks to a dim streetlight. He opened his car door quietly, hearing her heels tapping on the frozen pavement.
He caught the sound of muffled voices as he crossed the street: the man’s sounded clipped and a little anxious; Laura’s surprised and breathless. Shane cocked his ear to catch their exchange.
“You need to come with me. I know what you’re looking for. There’s someone who wants to help you,” the man said.
“What?” Laura gasped. Shane picked up his pace. Something in her sharp exhalation informed him that the man had just put his hands on her. “No. Let go of me. I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“He knows and he’s fixed on telling you for some reason. Won’t have it any other way.” The man suddenly grunted in pain. Laura must have hit or kicked him in an attempt to get away. “Why you little . . . Huey always did say you were a bitch. Had to go and call the police on me the other day when I dropped in to see you, didn’t you? Okay, you want to do this the hard way? Fine. How’s that feel? That change your mind any?”
Laura gave a muffled sound of dismay as Shane rushed the two of them in the darkness. There wasn’t much room to maneuver with the man holding Laura so close to his body. He grabbed his wrist and wrenched. It cracked audibly. He heard the metallic sound of a gun sliding across the sidewalk at the same time he covered Laura’s attacker’s face with his hand.
A scream of pain shattered the silence of the dark neighborhood.
Shane’d found the guy’s eye sockets with his first two fingers and gouged. He held Laura too close for Shane to maneuver—and who knew what other weapons the asshole had stashed on him? The man reeled back blindly to protect himself, staggering in the snow, cursing disjointedly, both hands protecting his temporarily blinded eyes.
“Stand back, Laura.”
One solid strike to the jaw followed by an uppercut to the liver reg
ion and the man fell, air punching out of his lungs when he hit the ground hard.
Shane roughly turned him over in the snow.
“Put your hands up above your head,” Shane directed. Not being a field agent, he usually didn’t carry cuffs on him. When the man started to struggle and curse, albeit weakly, Shane warned quietly, “Just try me. I’ve got plenty more for you, Ardos.”
Telly Ardos started, obviously just as put off by hearing his name spoken out loud as he was by Shane’s threat.
“What’s going on out there?” someone shouted in the distance.
“Joey?” Shane called.
“Shane? What the hell’s going on?” Joey repeated as he approached at a jog.
Shane could barely make out Laura’s profile in the darkness.
“You’ll have to ask your sister that, Joey.”
An hour later Shane pulled into the driveway behind Laura. He started to get out when he noticed that she’d exited her car and was rapidly coming toward him down the driveway. He remained seated, not saying anything when she opened the door and sank into the passenger seat. She faced him as she slammed the door shut.
“If you have something to say to me you can say it here,” she said, referring to the terse reminder he’d uttered not ten minutes ago after two patrolmen had arrested Telly Ardos in front of Joey’s house.
“What are you afraid will happen if we go inside?”
She gave him a thin smile and turned forward. She wore her long hair up tonight in a twist on the back of her head. Her profile looked cold and beautiful in the dim moonlight. When she remained unmoving Shane realized that she wasn’t even going to deign to answer his question.
Even though she refused to meet his eyes he knew how powerfully aware she was of him. He sensed her anxiety . . . and yes, he hadn’t been too far off in his accusation. Laura was afraid of him.
She had good reason to be.
Fury still roiled in his gut at the memory of that two-bit criminal grabbing her, pulling a gun on her . . . trying to get her in his car against her will. What would have happened if Shane hadn’t been there? His back teeth ground together at the thought. And after all that, Laura sat there cool and distant, her seemingly impenetrable façade locked back in place. That infuriated him as much as anything.
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