In His Protective Custody

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In His Protective Custody Page 6

by Marie Ferrarella


  Zane looked at her quizzically. He hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d been beside her the entire time. “Come again?”

  “This afternoon, when I went to get your discharge papers, you disappeared suddenly. Where did you go?” she repeated, then took a guess. “Did you get a call from the precinct?”

  “No.” He was going to leave it at that. There was no point in telling her that his brother Billy had called, despondent and high, talking about doing away with himself. But she was obviously waiting for him to continue. “I got a call from someone I knew. They needed help.” All of which was true, he thought. Just vague.

  “Girlfriend?” she asked.

  He looked at her sharply, expecting to find a coy expression on her face. There was nothing but innocence in her eyes. She was simply asking after the identity of his caller.

  “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be sharing a cup of coffee with you. No girlfriend. We covered that earlier,” he reminded her.

  She turned what he’d just said over in her head. Had he extended the invitation for coffee to her because she was a woman, or because he’d been rude earlier?

  “So if I were a male physician and had treated you, we wouldn’t be sitting here in this shop, having coffee?” she asked.

  He preferred just letting things be, not having them analyzed. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” he finally said.

  She took a sip of her latte and let the warm liquid wind its way through her system. “I’m off duty, I’ve got time. Enlighten me.”

  He had no intention of turning this into some long-winded story. He gave her the highlights. “Short as it is, we did have a history before Lukkas dragged me into the ER. I might have been rather rude that other night—”

  “You were,” she interjected.

  He chose to ignore her comment and push on. “You didn’t try to even the score today, so I figured I owed you.”

  “Even the score,” she repeated, a little mystified. Just what kind of people was this man used to? “Did you expect me to extract the bullet from your arm using pliers?”

  Obviously amused by her question, for the first time since she’d met him, Zane grinned. It transformed his face from forbidding to sunny.

  For a moment, it quite literally took her breath away.

  One shoulder moved in a semi-shrug. Zane addressed his coffee cup with the answer. “Maybe something like that.”

  “If that’s the case, then letting you buy me a cup of coffee—”

  He nodded at the cup. “Mocha latte.”

  She kept on going as if she hadn’t heard him. “—is really letting you off the hook cheap.”

  “Hey, I did ask you if you wanted something to eat,” he reminded her. “I can still snag a menu for you if you’re serious.”

  Lunch had been a granola bar. The thought of food right now was tempting, but she didn’t want to be indebted to him. Paying her own way always made things easier for her—which was why she was having a hard time accepting her cousins’ generosity. Somehow, she would find a way to repay them, or die trying.

  “I’ll settle for an answer,” she told him.

  Zane looked at her skeptically. He was not one to tacitly agree to something without knowing its boundaries. A man could get into a whole lot of trouble that way. “To what?”

  “To who called you in the ER.”

  This was really bothering her, he thought and wondered why. “What does it matter?”

  “It doesn’t in the grand scheme of things, but I’m curious. It’s a curse,” she freely admitted. “I always read the last chapter of a book first before I make up my mind to buy it.”

  “I take it that you don’t like surprises,” he assumed.

  “I don’t like being unprepared,” she corrected, deliberately keeping her voice mild.

  It had taken Alyx years to figure out that her feelings were rooted to that awful, awful morning when her world had been shattered. The morning that her Uncle Josef had come to tell her mother that Papa wouldn’t be coming home that night because he was dead. That gentle, gentle man with the powerful hands and deep, resonant voice, the man who provided the stability of her world and made her feel as if nothing would ever harm her as long as he was there, was gone.

  Just like that.

  She might have only been eight, but the feeling of being utterly lost and abandoned had gone deep down to her bones. It had taken a very long time for her to get over that.

  In his experience, most women liked spontaneity. “There’s something to be said for surprises.”

  “Yes, there is,” Alyx agreed, remembering. “And it’s all bad.”

  He had to admit, she intrigued him. “Let me guess. You were the one who opened all her Christmas presents ahead of time.”

  Mama and she and her sisters had gone through some very lean times in the years that followed their exodus from New York. Food first, gifts later, her mother, a pillar of practicality, had said.

  “When there were any,” Alyx said, brushing the subject aside. “Now stop changing the subject. Who called you?”

  “It was just my brother,” he told her mildly. “No big deal.”

  But it was a big deal, she thought. Big enough to make him rush out rather than wait to make his excuses or take a rain check. And then there was the matter of his wording. “You said he needed you.”

  What he should have done, Zane thought, was lied. He should have said yes when she’d guessed that the call had come in from his precinct. Being honest could create more hassles than it smoothed out.

  “He’s a little clueless and tends to get confused easily.”

  She would bet a month’s salary that there was more to this, but she knew what it felt like to be probed, to be made to feel that she was under a microscope, so she left it alone. Even though her curiosity was far from satisfied.

  “Maybe I will have that sandwich,” she said, opening up the menu.

  Zane merely nodded, relieved that she had decided to stop asking questions—but he couldn’t help wondering how long that would last.

  Chapter 6

  R ather than say goodbye at the sandwich shop, Zane offered to drive her home. Because her car was in the shop, she was grateful for the offer.

  Parking in a space reserved strictly for emergency vehicles, Zane got out and walked her to the front door of the building, expecting to hand Alyx off to the doorman.

  Except that there was no doorman at the entrance.

  “Your doorman take off somewhere?” Zane asked as he looked through the double glass doors into the foyer. The doorman wasn’t at his post inside the building either.

  The fact that there was a doorman, Alyx knew, had been an important selling feature for both her aunt and her uncle. The two worried a great deal about their daughters’ safety in the city. Especially her uncle, who was a retired policeman and knew firsthand about the darker side of life on the streets.

  Glancing at her watch, Alyx made a calculated guess. “Most likely, he’s probably just on a break.”

  If that was the case, he might as well do it the right way, Zane decided. After all, he was a cop and “protect and serve” was part of the creed. “Then maybe I should ride up the elevator with you and take you to your door myself.” He was thinking out loud. There was no “maybe.” Taking her to her door was what he intended to do.

  Despite her mother’s tendency to hover—or maybe because of it—Alyx had been extremely and stubbornly independent ever since she could remember. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she’d managed this “tricky” transition from the ground floor to her apartment door on her own for the last month and a half and there was no reason to believe that she had suddenly lost that “unique” ability.

  But the idea of having someone seeing her home, especially when that someone was as good-looking as Zane Calloway, was not exactly a displeasing thought. So rather than turn him down, she murmured, “That would be nice,” and led the way into the building.

&nb
sp; The elevator door opened almost immediately after he’d pressed for it. They had the car all to themselves the entire trip up to the fifth floor.

  It had to be her imagination, but the elevator had never felt quite as small to her as it did at this moment. She couldn’t quite explain it, but she was in Zane’s space and he in hers.

  She knew that he was also aware of it. All she had to do was look into his eyes to know.

  The air crackled between them, just as it had when she’d sewn up his wound. She’d treated other men before, had sewn up a four-inch gash on a muscular thirty-something dock worker just a couple of weeks ago, but this was different. There hadn’t been this charge of electricity rushing through her when she’d tended to the dock worker. And, on an absolute scale, the dock worker had been a more flawlessly attractive specimen of manhood than the police officer next to her.

  And yet…

  And yet she was making no sense, Alyx silently upbraided herself. Her thoughts were hazy. Most likely she was just a victim of static electricity, nothing more.

  The elevator doors opened and she walked to her apartment quickly.

  “Suddenly remember that you left something on the stove?” Zane asked mildly, lengthening his stride to keep up with her.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him just before she reached her door. “What? No. Why?”

  “Because you’re almost sprinting to get to the door,” he pointed out, “and I don’t remember anyone yelling out, ‘Tag, you’re it.’”

  “I’m not sprinting,” she informed him, embarrassed as she reached the door. She rummaged through her purse for her keys. Although her purse was small, it took her several seconds to locate the elusive key ring. “I was just moving fast so that you can get back to your own schedule.” She produced the key ring with a triumphant flourish.

  “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Zane told her quietly. The words and his breath slipped softly along her face and neck, warming her skin as she tilted her head up toward him.

  Alyx could feel her heart race. Could feel her breath backing up in her lungs, held prisoner by anticipation.

  And then, just as it seemed that Zane was going to back away, he didn’t. Instead, he brought his lips down to lightly touch hers.

  First contact resulted in a second and then a third, each contact a little more fully realized than the last. Before she realized what she was doing, Alyx threaded her arms around his neck.

  In the next heartbeat, she was on her toes, leaning into the man and the kiss as if there were no consequences to consider or to stave off.

  Nothing but this moment.

  Nothing but him and the seductively delicious taste of his mouth against hers.

  Alyx felt light-headed. She leaned even further into Zane, determined to enjoy the ride for however long it would last.

  She tasted of something sweet, Zane thought. Sweet and tempting and kissing her made him want to continue kissing her. Wanting more, not less.

  A lot more.

  Initially, he’d framed her face, curious as to what a soft, quick pass of her lips would feel like. But rather than satisfy his curiosity, the simple contact had managed to arouse his curiosity to an even higher plane, requiring more.

  His hands slipped from her face and enveloped her, bringing her closer to him than a breath. Allowing him to drink her in and get lost in the experience.

  And then the door to her apartment suddenly opened.

  A bemused blonde stood in the doorway.

  “I thought I heard someone out here—” Kady sucked in her breath abruptly as she realized she’d accidentally intruded. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Still holding the door, Alyx’s cousin had every intention of withdrawing back into the apartment and closing the door after herself.

  Kady started shutting the door, but by then Alyx had pulled back. The latter struggled to bank down the wave of heat that suddenly overtook her. She felt as if her skin was burning up.

  “No, wait. You’re not interrupting,” Alyx protested. It took effort not to stare at the floor, but she forced herself to meet her cousin’s eyes dead on. “I was just about to go in,” she explained, extremely relieved that she wasn’t stuttering. What should have been a very simple act—a kiss, for heaven’s sake—had shaken her to the core.

  She’d had no idea that Calloway’s mouth was so lethal. Her knees were in danger of melting away. How much longer could she have gone on kissing him before she bonelessly sank to the floor and embarrassed herself?

  Kady smiled knowingly at Alyx before turning her attention to the man who had been on the other side of her cousin’s mouth.

  “Hi, I’m Kady. I’m Alyx’s cousin and I used to live here.”

  Zane’s somewhat numbed brain scrambled to pull pieces together into some kind of a coherent whole. “You’re one of Alyx’s doctor cousins,” he realized out loud, making the connection.

  Extending her hand, Kady grinned broadly at Alyx’s companion. “Right. I’m the middle one,” she told him. “Kady Pulaski,” she said. “At least that’s my name when I’m on duty. The rest of the time, I’m Kady Kennedy.” She cocked her head, her eyes never leaving his face. “And you are…?”

  “On my way out,” Zane assured her.

  Still holding his hand in a friendly handshake, Kady asked, “Is that hyphenated?”

  He knew what she was after. This woman reminded him of Alyx. “My name’s Zane Calloway.”

  Alyx was quick to add, “Officer Zane Calloway. He’s the policeman who came in response to my 911 call the other night.”

  “And you came by to follow up on the call?” Kady asked, suppressing a knowing smile.

  He was not accustomed to explaining himself. Not even to his superiors. He did his job beyond reproach and he felt that should be enough for the powers that be—and inquisitive cousins. “Something like that,” he murmured.

  “Well, come inside,” Kady coaxed, opening the door wider and stepping back to admit him and Alyx into the apartment. “Byron’s out of town—he’s my husband,” she told Zane, “and the house is lonely so I thought I’d spend the night with my little cousin and see how things were going for her. But I can always just go over to one of my sisters’ houses.” She picked up her light blue overnight case she’d left beside the door.

  “No, please, stay,” Alyx insisted. “It’s really not what you think.” She quickly slanted a glance at Zane before saying, “He was just dropping me off after a cup of coffee.”

  This time, Kady didn’t bother trying to suppress her grin, and it took over her generous mouth. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? I didn’t realize I was so out of touch with the current terminology.” She noted that Alyx was about to launch into another protest, and she turned her appealing eyes toward Zane. “Really, please don’t leave on my account.”

  Granted he’d entertained the idea—fleetingly—of coming in, but that would lead to complications, he thought. It was better this way. Much better. Alyx’s mouth was too sweet for his own good. “I was just bringing Alyx to her door. The doorman isn’t around,” he tacked on.

  There was sympathy in Kady’s eyes, and something more. “Another protective male,” she marveled. “What is it about the Pulaski women that brings out the knight in shining armor in men?” she mused aloud. The man she’d eventually married had insisted on being her bodyguard after she’d witnessed his former employer being murdered. “Well, nice meeting you, Officer Zane Calloway,” she told him with feeling, then turned toward Alyx. “I’ll be in my old room.” With that, she picked up her overnight case and walked away.

  Alyx could feel herself flushing again. She hadn’t thought she was the type to do that until just now. Living in New York City was certainly a learning experience.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

  Zane was unclear as to why she felt it necessary to apologize. “For what?”

  “Well, Kady thought that we—” Verbally
fumbling, Alyx tried again. “That we were—you know—together,” she finally concluded awkwardly for lack of a more descriptive word.

  Zane smiled at her in response, and she could almost feel the curve of his mouth work its way deep into her body.

  “Maybe for a minute, we were,” he told her. Then, to her surprise, Zane lifted the tip of her chin with his thumb, brushed his lips against hers again and murmured “Good night” a beat before he turned away and walked down the hall toward the elevator.

  Her heart slammed against her rib cage twice over. The fleeting contact had stirred her insides up almost as much as the full-on, pulling-out-all-the-stops kiss had. She blew out a breath, feeling drained and exhilarated all at the same time.

  Alyx remained standing a moment longer, savoring. Then, pulling herself together, she slipped inside the apartment and closed the door behind her. She threw the lock on for good measure—whether to keep him out or herself in, she wasn’t quite sure.

  “Kady?” she called, looking around the living room. When she received no answer, she moved into the hall and made her way to the bedrooms. She knocked on the one at the end. “Kady? Are you in there?”

  The next moment, her cousin opened the door. Curiosity was evident in the young woman’s face, and it was mirrored by the look in her eyes.

  “Where’s the hunk?” she asked, glancing around.

  Alyx offered a slight shrug in response. “On his way home, I imagine.”

  The expression on Kady’s face said that the answer just didn’t compute. “Why?”

  “Because his shift is over and he lives there?” It came out in the form of a question because Alyx wasn’t sure exactly what her cousin was trying to get at.

  Kady didn’t appear satisfied. Just guilty.

  “He really didn’t have to leave on my account,” Kady told her, leaving her room. “I could have made myself scarce or disappeared altogether. It’s not like this kind of thing didn’t happen when Sasha, Natalya and I were all living here. It took a bit of juggling, but we managed to work things out.”

  “He didn’t leave on your account,” Alyx assured her. “He really did just come up to walk me to my—to our,” she corrected because in her opinion the apartment was more her cousins’ than hers, “door. He wasn’t planning on coming in. Really.”

 

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