An Impromptu Proposal

by Carla Cassidy

  “Don’t worry, Colleen,” he finally said. “You’re safe here. You’d be one of the last women on earth I’d choose to be ungentlemanly with.”

  “Why? Oh, I imagine as a dangerous private eye you prefer flashy, big-breasted blondes instead of intelligent, small-breasted brunettes.” She flushed, appalled at her own words.

  He paused in the doorway, his gaze lingering on her chest. He smiled. “No, I’d say your breasts are just right.” His eyes moved to hers. “But I have an aversion to big wallets and powerful family names.”

  “Unless they’re paying your fee?” Colleen said thinly.

  “That’s right,” he answered without hesitation. “After all, a man’s got to make a living. There’s nothing I like better than taking a wealthy person’s money. Good night, Colleen.” He turned and left, closing his bedroom door behind him.

  She hated him, Colleen decided as she went into the tiny bathroom to change into her pajamas. He was rude and arrogant and obnoxious.

  When she left the bathroom she discovered a sheet and a blanket on the couch. Oh, she knew his type, all right. He wasn’t about to drop the case and send her on her way. It was obvious he lived on the edge of poverty. He wouldn’t turn his back on a fee.

  She tucked the sheet into the couch, frowning as her hand encountered a foreign object in the cushions. She pulled out a petrified licorice stick and threw it into the garbage. The man was a slob and a lowlife. But if he found Sam, she would pay him enough to buy as much licorice as he wanted for the rest of his life.

  She turned out the light, plunging the room into darkness, then made her way to the sofa. She stretched out, and her thoughts drifted. For most of her life being a wealthy Baker had been both a blessing and a curse, either drawing people with false motives toward her or allowing her the freedom to follow her own dreams.

  If not for her inheritance she wouldn’t be able to afford to hire Gideon Graves. And certainly she didn’t know whether to consider his presence in her life as a blessing or a curse…although at the moment she definitely leaned toward it being a curse.

  Chapter Five

  He wasn’t sure exactly what pulled him from his sleep. Gideon opened his eyes and stared into the semidarkness of the room. The houseboat rocked softly, occasionally bumping against the dock, the sound familiar and reassuring. Moonlight streamed into the window, and in the distance he heard the splash of a jumping fish. Nothing seemed amiss. So why was he awake?

  He sat up and grabbed a pair of jeans, too wide awake to attempt sleep again. Half-dressed, he went to his window and saw Colleen standing on the deck, staring out across the vast expanse of water. That’s what woke me, he thought, realizing he must have subconsciously heard the opening and closing of the front door when she’d stepped outside.

  She looked lonely, a sole figure on a moon-kissed deck. The light breeze off the water stirred her hair, and she wrapped her arms around herself, as if warding off some inner chill. She was obviously deep in thought. What was she thinking? His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at her. What possible schemes could she be cooking up in that pretty little head of hers?

  On impulse, he left his bedroom, walked through the living room and out the front door. The night was unusually warm for the time of year. Gideon breathed deeply of the balmy, salty air.

  As he approached Colleen, she whirled around, and her eyes widened. “Oh, Gideon, you scared me.” She breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  “Can’t sleep?” He joined her at the railing. His gaze followed hers out across the water, where the light from the nearly full moon painted silver hues on the surface of the waves.

  “My father has been murdered, my brother is on the run. My home was broken into, and somebody might be tapping my phone. I’ve got more than a few things on my mind.” She turned once again and looked at him. “So, what’s your excuse?”

  He shrugged and leaned forward with his elbows on the railing. “I just woke up and decided to get some fresh air.”

  “I never got to sleep in the first place.” Once again she turned her attention toward the expanse of water. For a long moment neither of them spoke. The only sound was the rhythmic whoosh of the waves as they splashed against the side of the boat.

  “It’s beautiful here,” she said, breaking the relative silence. “So serene, so peaceful. How long have you lived here?”

  “For three years.”

  “Since you resigned from the police force?” He looked at her in surprise, and she smiled. “You aren’t the only one capable of doing a little background checking.”

  He frowned, wondering how deep she had dug into his past, how much she knew about the circumstances surrounding his resignation.

  “So what made you decide to quit the police department?” she asked. He relaxed. She apparently hadn’t dug too deep. “Wait, let me guess.” She faced him, the moonlight illuminating her features in its bewitching glow. “You’re a rebel and didn’t want to follow the rules. A lone wolf who follows his own brand of justice.”

  Gideon laughed, wondering if she and Eddy enjoyed the same reading material. “Not quite. Actually, I loved being a cop.” His laughter died abruptly. “My personal life got in the way and made it impossible for me to continue.”

  She looked at him curiously. “Personal life?”

  “My wife,” he answered flatly. “Although the lady and I are no longer married.” He straightened up, not comfortable with the personal turn of the conversation. “What about you? What made you choose the name Jensen?”

  “I didn’t choose it, I married it.” She smiled. “The gentleman and I are no longer married.”

  “But you chose to keep the name rather than go back to your maiden name?”

  She nodded slowly. “I like being Colleen Jensen,” she answered simply.

  He wasn’t sure he understood what she meant, but decided to press no further. Apparently besides both of them being divorced, they also shared a dislike of others prying into their personal lives. “Tell me about your sisters.”

  “Carolyn is the oldest of the girls. She lives in Casey’s Corners, Kansas. She’s happily married to the sheriff there.” Her voice was soft, her affection for her siblings obvious. She grinned. “And then there’s Bonnie. She’s fun, kind of wild and free. She went to Casey’s Corners to visit Carolyn and ended up marrying the deputy there a few weeks ago. They’re both settled, happy and raising families.”

  “Are you close to them?”

  “Yes, but it’s been more difficult with them being so far away. Besides, I wasn’t as close to them as I was to Sam.”

  “Now tell me about Sam,” he said, deciding to use this sleepless time to his advantage. She smiled, her features softened by her obvious affection for her brother. Gideon felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach. Had anyone in his life ever smiled like that at thoughts of him?

  Certainly Anne hadn’t. At first he’d viewed his wife’s smiles as precious gifts rarely given. It wasn’t until later he realized they weren’t gifts at all, but rather subtle manipulations.

  Colleen stepped away from the railing and leaned against the side of the houseboat. Her features were obscured in shadows. “Have you ever had a hero, Gideon?” she asked. He shook his head, and she continued, “Never? Not even when you were young?”

  “There were no heroes in my life,” he answered, trying to focus on her words rather than the way the breeze pressed her pajama top intimately against her body. The pajamas were tailored, cotton fabric, not in any way revealing, and yet he found them strangely sexy.

  “Too bad. Everyone needs a hero. Sam is mine.”

  “And what makes Sam such a paragon of virtue?” Gideon asked dryly.

  She laughed. Low and sexy, her laughter rode the breeze. “Oh, believe me, Sam is no paragon of virtue. He’s stubborn as a mule and a workaholic. He’s got a hot temper and hates to be told he’s wrong about anything.”

  “Then what makes him hero material?” Gideon asked. So far, she’d
described a man much like himself, and God knew, Gideon certainly was no hero.

  “Despite all his very human faults, Sam has the most giving spirit I’ve ever known. He possesses an innate gentleness and a strong, unyielding code of honor…” Her voice trailed off, and her smile fell apart. “I can’t believe he’s gotten himself into this kind of trouble.”

  “You don’t think he’s guilty?”

  “Of course not,” she answered without hesitation. “He could never, under any circumstances, take another life.”

  “There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind?”

  Her eyes glittered as she looked at him. “None,” she said firmly.

  Gideon found her faith admirable, if perhaps naive. “And what makes you so sure? What facts do you have to support your belief in his innocence?”

  She tilted her head and smiled yet again. “No facts, just faith.”

  He fought against his impulse to snort with derision. “It’s been my experience that faith is for fools.”

  “I’d say we’ve had very different experiences.”

  “I’m sure that is an understatement,” he replied.

  She eyed him curiously, started to speak, then instead directed her gaze toward the bay. He watched her as she stepped forward and leaned toward the railing.

  With her features immobile and awash in the pale moonlight, she looked like the figurehead of a ship. The breeze sculpted her hair away from her face and once again molded her pajama top to her curves. The vision was dispelled as her breasts rose and fell on a deep sigh.

  “Sam used to say that moonlight was magical, that nobody could tell a lie when standing in the light of the moon.” Wistfulness stirred her features. “That’s what I miss most. Sam always made me believe such things were really possible.”

  For a brief moment Gideon wished he, too, had the capacity to make her believe such things were possible. He rubbed his forehead, confused by the warmth of strange emotion she provoked. She was appealing, far too appealing for comfort. Immediately, anger swept through him. “Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me,” he retorted. “I’m going back to bed. One of us better be functioning with some sleep tomorrow.” He started to go inside.

  “Gideon?”

  He paused and turned to her. “What?”

  “Did you love her?” she asked softly. “I mean your wife?”

  He wanted to lie, denounce those long-ago feelings he’d once experienced. But as he gazed at Colleen, bathed in the silver incandescence, her eyes searching his face so trustingly, he couldn’t. “More than life,” he whispered. “It was a mistake I’ll never make again.”

  “Getting married?”

  “No. Loving.” Realizing he’d said more than he intended, exposed a private area of his soul, he twirled on his heels and went inside.

  * * *

  Colleen looked at her watch for the third time in as many minutes. Gideon should be here any second to pick her up and take her to her duplex. Yawning, she thought longingly of being in her own home, sleeping in her own bed, away from Gideon’s disturbing presence.

  Those moments in the middle of the night in the moonlight with him had been very disturbing. Clad only in his jeans, his chest bronzed and bare, his physical presence had been enough to put her on edge. More than the power of his very maleness had been the depth of his emotion when he’d told her what little he’d said about his ex-wife.

  “More than life.” She had heard the betrayal in his voice and ached when she remembered him stating so firmly that he would never love again. Despite hurting for him, she understood completely. She, too, had been disillusioned with love.

  Jesse Jensen had made promises, taken vows, but when he realized she didn’t want to live the life-style her money afforded her, he walked away in disgust, letting Colleen know it had never been her he loved. Only the money. Always the money.

  The day after Jesse left her, she decided if she ever fell in love again, it would be with a man who had his own wealth and didn’t need the thought of hers to make her appealing.

  Putting her files away, she dismissed these thoughts, realizing overtiredness was making her maudlin. Desk cleaned off, she left her office, deciding to wait for Gideon outside.

  The afternoon sunshine was warm on her shoulders as she sank down on the bus stop bench at the curb in front of the social services building. The leaves on the trees had already turned brown, and although the sun was warm, Colleen was aware that winter was just around the corner. Winter, with cold winds and snow.

  Would Sam be someplace warm? How was he eating, where was he staying? Colleen knew his bank accounts had been frozen by the police, and Sam had never been one to carry large amounts of cash on him. When he’d run on the night of the murder, Colleen would have guessed he probably had less than fifty dollars in his wallet.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, tilting her face toward the sun, surprised when her mental vision of Sam was displaced by an image of Gideon. Odd, how much the private eye reminded her of Sam. The two men seemed to have the same quirky sense of humor, an inner silent strength that was slightly daunting.

  A squeal of tires made her snap her eyes open in time to see a car veer toward the curb where she sat. Before she could move, a man jumped out of the passenger side of the car and raced toward her. With one hand he grabbed her purse as the other hand reached for her throat.

  Instinctively Colleen fought back, gasping in pain as his fingers raked the tender flesh of her neck. She tumbled off the bench, trying to maintain her hold on her purse and at the same time get away. Her senses swam as the back of her head connected with the concrete sidewalk.

  “Hey, you son of a…”

  In the distance Colleen heard Gideon’s yell, followed by the pounding of running footsteps. Her attacker released her and jumped in the waiting car. With a burning squeal of tires, the car sped away.

  Gideon reached her just as she sat up. His face was a mask of fury. “Are you all right?” he asked as he extended a hand to help her stand.

  She nodded, too shaken to speak for a moment. Despite the fact that she was now on her feet, she was grateful Gideon didn’t release her hand. He seemed to sense her need of the human, physical connection. “At least I didn’t let him get my purse,” she said shakily.

  “What exactly happened?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I was sitting on the bench waiting for you. He jumped out of a car and grabbed at me.” She squeezed his hand tightly, then finally released it. “Thank God you showed up when you did.”

  “You’re bleeding,” he said. His eyes narrowed as he focused on her neck.

  She reached up and touched the tender area beneath the chain of her necklace. “Just scratches,” she replied.

  He placed an arm around her shoulder, and she gratefully leaned into him. “Come on, let’s go to my place, and I’ll clean you up.” He smiled, his eyes filled with a tenderness that soothed the wounds more effectively than any antiseptic.

  Although moments before she had been anticipating the return to her own place, she didn’t argue with the idea of going to Gideon’s instead.

  “I’ve got more bad news,” Gideon said once they were in his car and heading toward the houseboat. She stifled a groan and looked at him expectantly. “My friend swept your duplex. He found several bugs and a tap on your telephone line.”

  She stared at him. “The police?” she finally asked.

  He shook his head. “We don’t think so. The equipment was very high-tech, far more expensive than what the police department uses.”

  “Then who?” Colleen whispered, a shiver racing through her.

  “That’s what we need to find out.”

  She leaned her head against the seat, wincing as she realized the back of her skull was sore. She rubbed the area, unsurprised to find a lump the size of a walnut. “I feel like I’m playing a game where somebody neglected to tell me the rules.” She looked at Gideon once again. “Only this isn’t a game, is it?�
�

  He smiled. “If it is, I think it’s one we shouldn’t play.”

  She frowned and rubbed her head once again. “I can’t believe, on top of everything else, I got mugged.”

  Gideon turned into the marina parking lot and found a space. He shut off the car, then turned and looked at her. “Colleen, I don’t think it was a case of a random mugging attempt. Following on the heels of your apartment being searched yesterday, it’s just too much of a coincidence.”

  “You don’t believe in coincidences?”

  “Not this kind.”

  Together they got out of the car and walked down the ramp toward his boat. The evening sun was kind to the structure, softening the stark reality of peeling paint and disrepair.

  “Why don’t you sit there,” he said, gesturing toward a chair at the kitchen table once they were inside. As she sank down at the table he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a firstaid kit. “Colleen,” he began as he sat on the chair next to her and opened the tin container. “I think you should stay here for a couple of days, until we get a handle on what’s going on.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. She hated this, the feeling of her life out of her control. She also wasn’t sure she wanted to stay in these close quarters with Gideon. However, the thought of being all alone in an impersonal hotel room was even less appealing. “Okay,” she finally agreed.

  “I also don’t think you should go to work for the next couple of days,” he added.

  “Oh, I can’t do that,” she protested. “People depend on me to be there.”

  “And whoever came after you today knew you’d be there, too,” he reminded her.

  Her frown deepened. He was right. “I’ll have to call Margie and see if she can cover my cases for a couple of days.” She looked at him. “Do you think we’ll have some answers in that time?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it seems to me that suddenly the stakes have gotten higher. If the break-in yesterday and the attack this afternoon are any indication, somebody is getting desperate for something, and I imagine it’s just a matter of time before they show their hand.”