Hayley clutched his shirt. “No. I can’t lose this, too. Oh, God.”
He set her on her feet and folded her into a hard embrace. It had been close. Too close. One more minute and Hayley could have been caught in there. She could have gone up with those files. He buried his nose against the top of her head. The acrid bite of smoke masked the scent of her hair, yet he inhaled anyway. He needed to fill his lungs with her as he was filling his arms. He had to reassure himself that she was still here, that he hadn’t lost her.
The strength of his need shook him. This was more than a need for her body. He was starting to care about her. He didn’t want to. He’d been taught better than that. People came and went and only a fool let himself care.
Go, he told himself. Leave now while you still can. It’s not too late. No one has to know you were here.
That would be the smart thing to do. Sproule had to be behind the explosion. Somehow, he must have figured out that Hayley wasn’t going to leave him alone. He might even have discovered she was asking around about Volski. With drug profits on the line, Sproule wouldn’t take any chances.
Hayley’s knees gave out. Cooper caught her before she collapsed, sat down on the curb and cradled her on his lap. He heard a siren in the distance. People were starting to appear on the street: a gray-haired woman in a long green dressing gown and a short, plump man hobbling with a cane, a middle-aged man with striped pyjamas beneath an overcoat and two teenage boys on bicycles. These were her neighbors. Someone here would make sure she saw a doctor. They would see to her. He didn’t need to stay.
Cooper was fairly sure that Hayley had been the sole target. He’d been too careful to keep their association secret, and he was positive that no one could have seen him arrive or could have known he was there. If he left now, he might still be able to salvage his plan to work from the inside.
She turned her face to his neck. He felt her tears on his skin.
And he knew damn well that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Hayley cradled the mug in her hands, anchoring her mind on the details. The same plaid blanket that Cooper had covered her with when she had slept on his couch the night they had met was draped around her shoulders, but she wasn’t on the couch in his office, she was on one of the overstuffed sofas in his loft. Like the big leather recliner, it was angled to face the wall of windows. The slats of the blinds were tilted open, allowing a view of the overgrown orchard in the field behind the Long Shot. The tops of the apple trees were tinted gold with the first rays of sunrise.
With disbelief, she realized it was already morning.
The deep murmur of Cooper’s voice as he spoke on the phone came from the corner of the loft that made up the kitchen. A minute later, he finished the call, set the phone down on the counter and crossed the room. The sofa cushion dipped as he sat beside her. His warm thigh brushed against hers.
The contact steadied her, as it had throughout the horror of the night. He’d given her a solid shoulder to lean on while the fire trucks had lined the street. His arms had sheltered her from the backwash of the spray as the firemen wrestled hoses across the lawn. The only time he’d let go of her was when he had insisted that she get checked out by the paramedics. Aside from some scrapes and bruises, she was uninjured. Neither of them had needed any treatment for the smoke they had inhaled, thanks to the way Cooper had gotten them out so quickly.
Everything had seemed to go by on Fast Forward. In a way, she was thankful that the night was a blur. She didn’t really want to remember watching her childhood home go up in flames. Who would have guessed that a one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old house could be destroyed in a matter of minutes?
The debris was still smoldering when they had left. The stately old Victorian had been reduced to a jumbled mass of charred beams and twisted pipes. Between the explosion and the fire, the devastation was near total. There was little hope of salvaging anything.
“I asked Theresa to stop by the mall when it opens and pick up some clothes to tide you over until you can get to a store,” Cooper said. “I guessed at the sizes you would need. I thought you might feel like getting cleaned up.”
She glanced down at herself. Her blouse and slacks were covered with black-ringed holes where sparks had fallen on her clothes. “Theresa?”
“Martinez. She waitresses here. Her husband, Ken, is my bartender.”
“That’s very nice of both of you, but I can change when I…” She stopped. She had been about to say when she got home, but she didn’t have a home. She didn’t even have any clothes except the ones she was wearing. “It’s going to take a while to sink in.”
Cooper wiped his thumb across her cheek. “That house meant a lot to you.”
“It was my mother’s house. Her great-grandfather built it when Latchford was founded. Adam and I grew up there. It’s been in the family for five generations.”
He dried her other cheek. “It was insured, wasn’t it?”
“I let the policy lapse. My mother’s money went to my dad when she died, but there’s barely enough left now to cover the taxes and the upkeep. I never dreamed… Oh, God! I can’t believe it’s all gone. Every piece of furniture had a history. My grandmother’s china, my grandfather’s books, even if there was insurance, they could never be replaced. I should have saved them.”
“You couldn’t do anything, Hayley.”
She felt an echo of the helpless grief that had shaken her during the night. She lifted the mug to her mouth. The rim clunked against her teeth. Cooper closed his hand over hers to steady her as she took a sip.
Hot chocolate, heavily laced with something alcoholic, trickled down her throat. It burned at first, then left behind a comforting dullness, soothing the soreness that lingered there. She glanced at the sunlit treetops. It was too early in the day to be drinking, but as Cooper had once said, why not live dangerously?
She hiccupped on a sob and downed the rest of the liquid in the mug. Warmth spread down her chest to her stomach. Dangerous? How could she be worrying about the house or the furniture or even those files she had tried to save? She and Cooper could have been killed.
The firemen had said it looked as if the gas line behind the house had been tampered with where it entered the back wall. There had been scrape marks from some kind of tool on the metal pipe. They weren’t calling the explosion deliberate yet—the investigation into the cause wouldn’t start in earnest until the wreckage had cooled down—but they weren’t calling it accidental, either.
Cooper was taking it for granted that Sproule had been behind it.
She turned to look at him.
Stiff, frizzled ends of singed hair stuck straight up along his hairline. He had used a damp towel to clean his face, but a streak of soot remained on his forehead. More soot had settled in the lines that fanned out from the corners of his eyes.
He had saved her life. It wasn’t the first time.
Except this time, he had done it publicly. She belatedly realized what should have been obvious hours ago. “Cooper, you gave the police and the firemen your name.”
“They had to know where to reach you, and you needed someplace safe to go.”
“But what if Sproule finds out I’m here? That’s going to ruin your plan to work from the inside.”
He took the empty mug from her hand and rose to his feet. “You need to rest,” he said, walking toward the sink. “We’ll talk about it later.”
She shrugged off the blanket and pushed herself off the sofa. The room tilted for a second. She waited until it steadied, then followed him across the floor. “No, we should talk about it now. I can’t stay here. It’s going to get back to Sproule.”
He rinsed the mug in the sink. “It probably already has.”
“But what if it hasn’t?” She turned toward the door. “I should go someplace else.”
He caught up to her and grasped her by the arms before she had taken two steps. “Hayley, you can’t go anyplace right now. Sproule tried to have you killed. T
hat explosion wasn’t an accident any more than Adam’s death was.”
She looked around. She spotted his phone on the counter. “I’ll call the police. I’ll explain I need protection…” She stopped. She exhaled hard. “They won’t be able to help without any proof.”
“If whoever you talk to is on Sproule’s payroll, proof won’t make any difference.”
Her head was spinning. The scope of the disaster was continuing to expand. She whipped her gaze back to Cooper. “Why would he try to kill me?”
Cooper trailed his fingers down her arm and took her hand. He led her to one of the wooden stools that rested beneath the side of the counter that defined the kitchen. He hooked a rung of the stool with his foot to pull it toward her and eased her to sit. “It looks like he knew you were still after him.”
“That’s impossible. I’ve kept away from him since you and I made our deal.”
“He might have found out you were investigating Volski.”
“I don’t see how. Besides my friend in New York, we’re the only two people who knew I was tracing the ownership of that parts company…” She drew in her breath.
“What?”
“No, that’s not possible. He wouldn’t have said anything.”
“Who? Who did you tell?”
She bit down on her lip. She felt sick.
Cooper squeezed her hand. “Hayley, did you tell your father?”
She nodded, stricken. “Two days ago. He’s been so despondent. I wanted to give him hope so I told him I was going to finish what Adam started. I told him Oliver was smuggling something, but I didn’t know about Volski or the heroin then… Damn, I didn’t think. Someone must have overheard. I never close the door of his room when I visit.”
“Or your father could have told someone.”
“I asked him not to but lately he forgets. He gets confused. I wanted to ease his mind so he could heal and—” And so he would love me.
Oh, God. She had probably brought this on herself. She had known her father still spoke with his old colleagues, she was aware Sproule might have informants on the police force, but she couldn’t believe that would include one of her father’s friends.
That would be hitting too close to home.
“It doesn’t really matter how Sproule found out, it’s done, Hayley.”
She touched her fingertips to the singed hair at the edge of his forehead. “This is my fault. Cooper, I’m sorry.”
“Regrets don’t change a thing, so don’t beat yourself up over this.”
“But if Oliver knows that I’m investigating the smuggling, he’ll be on his guard. It’s going to be more difficult than ever to find evidence against him.”
He took a folded paper from his shirt pocket and spun it onto the counter. It slid to a stop against the phone. “He’ll probably change his schedule, too, so this won’t do us any good.”
She looked at the paper blankly before she realized it was the one he had taken from her files.
Cooper had wanted to end their partnership. He was going to cut her out of their plan.
The argument was pointless now. The information she had gathered and offered to share with him was gone. In all likelihood, any chance of Cooper working undercover was gone, too.
She swiveled on the stool to prop her elbows on the counter and dropped her face into her hands. “This just keeps getting worse.”
“We’re still breathing, so it’s not that bad.” He cupped her shoulder. “The way I see it, Hayley, you have two options.”
“What?”
“You could forget about avenging your brother and go back to Chicago.”
“No.” She twisted to look at him. “Absolutely not. I’m not giving up until I see this through.”
He moved his hand to her back, rubbing gently. “At least think about it.”
“I don’t need to. I have nothing to go back to. I quit my job when I came home. I gave up the lease on my apartment. I put everything I had into getting justice for Adam.”
“You could get another job in Chicago.”
“When my money runs out, I’ll get a job in Latchford. I’ll stay at the Y. Whatever I need to do. I’m not leaving until this is over.”
“Leaving is the safest choice.”
“Do you really expect me to take it?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. It was the first hint of a smile he had allowed all night. “No, but I thought it was worth a shot.”
“What was the other option?”
“You stay here with me until Sproule’s in jail.”
She stared at him. “Stay here? You mean in your apartment?”
“The people who work for me know what’s going on. They’re not going to let Sproule or any of his men near the Long Shot.”
“I’m not going to hide in here with the blinds drawn again the way I did when you met downstairs with Oliver. That would be as bad as running back to Chicago.”
“You won’t have to hide. Your presence here won’t be a secret, so we don’t have to sneak around anymore. When you go out, I’ll go with you. Sproule’s going to know you’re under my protection.”
He did sound protective, almost…possessive. She felt a surge of warmth. She didn’t even bother trying to tell herself it was only because he was still willing to work with her. She did feel safe with him. She always had. Considering the circumstances, his suggestion was a sensible one.
And yet, if she accepted it, she would be opening herself up to a different danger. The more time she spent with him, the more she learned about him, the more compelling she found him. How could she share his home with him and hope to maintain her distance?
She glanced around the room. “The last I heard, you wanted to dissolve our partnership.”
“It’s too late now, Hayley.”
“You seemed pretty definite before.”
“The fire changed that.” He paused. “It changed a lot of things.”
“But—”
“If you won’t leave town, then I want you to stay where I can keep you safe.”
“Your loft is only one room, Cooper.”
“It’s a big room.”
“There’s only one bed.”
“Plus two sofas and a chair you’ve already slept in. It’s your choice where you bunk down.”
Despite the turmoil of the night—or perhaps because of it—her heart began to pound. “Just so there’s no misunderstanding…”
“When I said the choice is yours, I meant it. Like you told me, sleeping with me was never part of our deal.” He touched his thumb to the skin below her ear. “Not unless you want it to be,” he added.
She was sure he could feel her pulse race. She could see the knowledge in the gleam that lit his eyes.
For a mad instant, she wanted to tell him she would choose his bed. He had been by her side throughout the past night. What would it be like to spend a night in his arms, in his bed, to feel his large body move over hers, to give in to the mindless physical attraction that even now was making her sway into his touch?
Why not? she thought recklessly. She had lost everything else, hadn’t she? In the space of a few hours, she had lost all her belongings, her family home, seven months of painstaking research and her best hope of bringing her brother’s killer to justice. Why not go all the way and lose her heart?
Her heart? Oh, God. Was that what was happening? She jerked back from his hand and slipped off the stool. “I’ll take the sofa.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes, it is.”
He hesitated, then reached out, caught her chin and touched his mouth to hers.
It was a mere brush of his lips, as gentle as his grip on her jaw, but her emotions were so raw, it jolted her down to her toes. The tang of smoke mixed with the scent of Cooper. Images of flames, of loss, spun through her mind. She wanted to drive them out.
His hand shook against her chin.
She clutched the front of his shirt to lift hersel
f into him, sealing their mouths more firmly.
He groaned, stepped closer and tunneled his fingers into her hair. Gripping her head, he pushed his tongue between her lips.
She couldn’t help but respond. She sank into the kiss, closing her eyes, absorbing the familiar taste and texture of this man. Her chin tingled at the rasp of his morning beard stubble. Her nipples tightened at the contact with his chest. She brought her hands to his shirt buttons, fumbling to open them, needing to get closer.
He moved his mouth to her neck. “Hayley?”
Her fingers were trembling. She couldn’t open his buttons so she slid her hands to his belt. A sob scraped her throat.
He caught her wrists and curled them against his chest. He rubbed his teeth over her earlobe. “Tell me you changed your mind.”
“I didn’t. I just need… Oh, Cooper.”
For an endless moment, he didn’t move. His fingers spasmed around her wrists. Finally, he pressed his face to the crook of her neck, his breath hot and fast across her skin. “It’s okay, Hayley,” he murmured. “I know what you need.” He brought his mouth back to hers.
He kissed her again. More gently this time. She could feel tension ripple through his arms, his chest, his legs, yet he kept his touch light. He lifted her hands to his face and breathed a kiss into each palm.
The tenderness was too much. Her knees buckled.
He caught her in his arms. How many times had he done that tonight? She felt his body shift against hers as he carried her across the room, his strides long and steady. He nuzzled her ear, then leaned down to lay her on her back.
Not on the bed, on the sofa. The cushion dipped beneath his knee, the warmth of his chest grazed her breasts, but he held his weight off her. He braced his hands beside her head and brushed his lips along her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was crying again until she felt him kiss a tear. When they ran out, he brought his mouth to hers in a slow, heart-stopping caress.
Then Cooper did something that touched her heart more than passion ever could.
He covered her with the plaid blanket, pressed a kiss to her forehead and walked away.
The Angel and the Outlaw Page 11