by Lori Foster
Logan, without knowing of their plans, had actually encouraged them.
With any luck, Rowdy would be available to keep an eye on things. He’d check with him later—when Alice wouldn’t know.
“What are you thinking?” she asked. “You’re so quiet.”
“I was wondering about this shopping trip of yours.”
She smiled toward him. “I haven’t shopped with another woman in a long time.” As if distracted, she fussed with the hem on her dress, now wrinkled from the rain. “My sister and I used to go out together a lot. The last time we shopped, it was for her prom dress.”
With Alice, it was often what she didn’t say that gave him pause. “Your mother didn’t go?”
“Not that time. She and my dad were on a business trip. My sister had decided not to go to prom so Mom didn’t think she’d be missing anything. Then Amy got asked by a special boy, and we had to scramble to get things together. It was pretty wonderful, and she looked so beautiful that night.”
It was hard to imagine dark secrets in the soft, caring picture Alice presented. “You’re older than her?”
“By six years.”
“So you two weren’t close?”
Hesitation hung in the air between them. “Despite the age difference, we used to be.” She turned away to stare out the window at the sodden landscape. “I don’t see her very often now.”
He wanted to ask why but didn’t. “Your parents?”
She held silent.
“You can tell me, you know.”
More time passed. Reese heard the shushing of tires on wet pavement, the lazy, rhythmic slicking of the windshield wipers.
He heard his own heartbeat in his ears.
Shifting around to face him, Alice curled her legs up on the seat, rested her cheek against the back, folded her arms around her waist.
She let out a breath.
Reese felt her watching him, and he knew she was measuring her words.
“My family is pretty wonderful. Supportive and caring. Smart and friendly.”
Like Alice.
“Mom is a teacher, Dad an architect. Amy is still in college. She’s going to be a nurse.”
To Reese that sounded nice enough, much like a typical middle-class family. “So why don’t you see them more often?”
“Because I love them.” Her voice thickened with emotion, breaking his heart. “A lot.”
Though he couldn’t imagine anyone not loving Alice, he had to ask. “They don’t feel the same?”
“After I was kidnapped, things changed.” She corrected that with a shake of her head. “That is, I changed. They were thrilled when I returned, but it had been so long....” Her voice trailed off. “I wasn’t the same person anymore.”
To a captive, a day could feel like a week, a week like a month. Reese prayed that Alice had been rescued sooner than that. “You were still a daughter, a sister. I’m sure they—”
“Loved me? Yes.” Expression stark, she looked away. “But he kept me for over a year.”
Shock rolled over Reese, cramping his guts, locking his jaw. “Jesus,” he whispered, wishing he could somehow change the reality of what she’d suffered.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get away.” She hugged herself, chin down, her voice breaking. “I thought that was my life.”
Knowing how the memory still hurt her left Reese hurting, too. She’d survived, and she said she hadn’t been raped. What could a kidnapper possibly have wanted with her?
The silence grew heavier, almost suffocating. Reese tried to get into cop mode, to think logically instead of with emotion. “You said he. It was a man who took you?”
“A man that had me taken.”
“Did you know him?”
She shook her head—and curled tighter. “No.”
His heartbeat thundered. He wanted to pull over and hold her, console her. Make absurd promises that he wasn’t sure he could keep.
But he didn’t dare interrupt the moment of confession.
He needed to know.
Keeping his tone calm, no-nonsense, Reese asked, “Do you know why he took you?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t elaborate. As a man, he wanted to let it go, to see the wary shadows lift from her gaze. But as a cop, logic won out and he forced himself to push for more. “What did he make you do, Alice?”
“The one thing I’m good at.” She swallowed hard. “I had to be his secretary.”
That...didn’t make a lot of sense. Reese spared her a quick glance and saw that she’d huddled into a small, vulnerable form—as far from him as she could get.
“Will you explain that to me?”
The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, reflecting off all the wet surfaces. Steam rose in suffocating waves. Birds came out to sing.
“You were probably already digging into my past.”
“I was.” Reese saw no reason to deny it. He was a detective, and she knew it.
“You’d have found out, anyway.” Her shoulders lifted on a big breath. “But I don’t like talking about it.”
“That’s why you avoid your family?”
She nodded. “I can’t bear to trouble them with my...unpleasantness. They’re so happy, burdening them with the real worries of life, the life I now know exists, doesn’t seem fair.”
“A life with kidnappers?”
A rainbow stretched across the sky. His tires hit a puddle in the road, causing a big splash.
Alice drew in a shaky breath, looked at him. “A life with human traffickers.”
Reese’s blood ran cold. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s what he was?”
“He pretended to be a hotshot businessman. And I guess he was that, too. But he also bought and sold women.” She paused, chewed her bottom lip a moment. “I haven’t told many people about it.”
“Because it’s so ugly?”
She nodded. “You’re a detective, so you already see stuff like this. You can deal with it.”
“Yes.” But she thought her family couldn’t? “You can tell me anything, remember?” Screw keeping an emotional distance. He reached for and found her hand. “You won’t burden me.”
Her fingers locked on his. “I told my family just a little of it, and they were so sick. My sister had nightmares, my mom cried. And my dad...” Big tears clung to her lashes, and her words thickened with heartache. “My sweet, gentle dad broke his hand punching the wall.”
Reese could picture it in his mind; too many times he’d witnessed fathers trying to deal with the loss or injury of a child. “I can’t imagine a dad reacting any other way.” Her shuddering indrawn breath wrenched him. “That’s not your fault, honey. That’s human nature.”
“That’s loss of innocence. That’s reality—a reality few ever have to face.” Easing her hand away from him, she sat up straighter and pushed back her hair. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Not right now.”
He needed to know more. He needed the kidnapper’s name, and he had to know if justice had been served.
Because if it hadn’t, he’d be taking care of that himself.
He considered everything she’d shared, and he pieced together what he could.
For over a year, she’d been forced to act as a secretary to a scumbag trafficker. Inconceivable.
She hadn’t been raped. She had escaped. How? Who had helped her?
They were almost to the grocery store, and Alice trembled
all over. If he pushed her any further, she’d lose her fragile grip on control. As a detective, he knew that could get him answers; people spilled their guts in moments of weakness.
But he couldn’t do that.
Not to Alice.
Mind made up, Reese reached for her hand again. He needed the brief contact, whether she did or not. “You can relax, honey. We’ll put it on hold for now.”
Her rigid shoulders drooped. She squeezed his hand like a lifeline. “Thank you.”
Reese felt like an abusive ass, but he nodded to accept her...gratitude.
Shit. He wanted many things from Alice, but not that. Not even close. Definitely not over confessions he’d wrung from her.
As he parked in the grocery lot, she opened her seat belt, then hesitated until he’d turned off the car. Uncertainty filled her dark-eyed gaze. “You know, once you’ve heard it all, it’ll probably change everything.”
He realized he was learning to read her, to understand what she didn’t say. “You mean how I feel about you?”
“Yes.” And then, a little self-conscious, “Whatever it is you feel.”
He felt plenty, all of it unfamiliar and disconcerting. “Somehow, I doubt it, but I guess we’ll find out.” He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers. “In the meantime, you might try trusting me, okay?”
Instead of agreeing, she touched her fingertips to her lips, let out a pent-up breath—and turned to get out of the car. Reese had to hurry to catch up with her.
He had a feeling Alice would always stay one step ahead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS RIDICULOUS, but the closer it got to bedtime, the more antsy she became.
In part because of what she’d told Reese.
But mostly because of what she hadn’t told him.
He behaved the same, a little outrageous, far too attentive, sexy and downright wonderful. About everything.
He helped cook dinner. He helped clean up afterward. He played with Cash while she checked her messages and emails.
At the speed of light, he already filled her life.
Alice knew she wanted more. More than a casual relationship. More than sex.
More than temporary.
But a man like Reese would always demand honesty, and her personal truths would likely drive him away.
Such a conundrum. A balancing act.
Hearing Reese return from taking Cash out, she closed her computer. Ears attuned, she heard him lock the door, heard him talking softly with the dog.
Heard his footsteps coming down the hall.
With little decided, she turned her chair in anticipation of seeing him—and there he was. Cash came in around him, but Reese held him back.
“It’s muddy out there, so I had to wash his paws. I tried drying them, too, but easier said than done.”
Alice smiled. “It’s okay.” With her emotions so jumbled, she could use some unconditional puppy love right about now. She patted her thigh, and Cash bounded forward.
Hands in his pockets, his mouth tilted in a crooked smile, Reese propped a shoulder in the door frame. “He acts as if he hasn’t seen you for days instead of minutes.”
Sinking her fingers into the dog’s long, silky fur, Alice hugged him. “He’s the sweetest dog ever.”
“Or perhaps you’re just a very accepting woman.” He stepped in. “Are we interrupting your work?”
“No. I’d just finished up.”
He lifted a crystal paperweight shaped like a rose. Engraved on the front were the words: Sisters are Forever. “Very nice.”
Needlessly, she explained, “My sister got me that.”
“Special occasion?”
Nervousness began uncoiling inside her. “When I...returned home.” Her throat constricted. She hugged Cash closer. “After the kidnapping.”
As if the dog understood, he whined and laid his head over her thighs.
“I see.” Reese returned the paperweight to her desktop and looked around her room. “Tell me more about what you do.”
“Being a virtual assistant?”
“Yes. I don’t know much about it.”
So, he didn’t plan to pry right now? Tension receded, making it easier for her to breathe. Her work was a safe, comfortable topic. “I do a lot of stuff.”
“Like?”
“Set up programming, marketing, advertisement. I do copywriting for presentations and manage social calendars. Filing, travel plans, sometimes I even help develop brands for small businesses.” She watched Reese stop before an ornate clock on the wall. It neared ten-thirty.
Her bedtime.
Reese moved on to her file cabinet, read the names on the front of each drawer. “Sounds like you do it all.”
What was he looking for? Surely a utilitarian, locked file cabinet held no fascination. “Whatever the client needs, I can usually handle it.” She was a top-notch assistant—a curse she would live with forever.
“You communicate through email?”
“Mostly, yes.” A throbbing started in her temples, thanks to the intrusion of a nasty memory. She rubbed it away. “Sometimes with conference calls.” She avoided Skype and visual conferencing because she didn’t want to be identifiable.
Reese pondered that. “You never receive physical items?” She could almost see him thinking, picking apart her methods and finding reasons for them. “Actual mail or anything? Maybe a business item that the client wants you to review?”
“It’s rare, because I’m not part of product development. But when the client insists, I have a post office box that I check twice a week.” She made the trip two towns over to avoid a trail. In every way possible, she kept her anonymity. Not easy, but doable, when you were careful enough.
And she was very, very careful.
“I see.” He touched the top of her oversize flat-screen monitor. “How do you get paid?”
His continued questioning set her on edge again. Though she trusted Reese and enjoyed his company—even craved it—nervousness began ramping up. She closed her hands over the arms of her chair, her grip tight as she instinctively rejected the intrusion into her privacy. “I get paid through online accounts.”
“Convenient.”
Did that sound like an accusation? “Yes.”
He didn’t look right at her, instead choosing to circle her desk, his attention on folders, even paper clips. “Do you ever actually meet your clients?”
Too quickly, she said, “No.”
As if he understood her reticence to meet others, her need for isolation, Reese nodded.
She braced herself for the more personal questions to come. Now he would insist on knowing it all. And she wasn’t ready. Apprehension flooded her system, but she kept her expression composed.
She’d learned to do that during her captivity—to hide all emotion. Reactions gained attention, and sometimes retaliation. Better to fade into the woodwork, to get her job done as unobtrusively as possible.
Silent and efficient.
Blind to the cruelty.
Cowardly.
Having circled the small room, Reese now stood in front of her. “Alice?”
Distress got a stranglehold on her. She met his gaze, wishing she could will away the past, wishing she could convince him to stay, wishing she could put off this confrontation forever....
He studied her face, and concern pulled his brows. “It’s getting late.”
Bedtime. A time
when her thoughts would relentlessly circle memories she badly wanted to bury. “Yes.”
“Shhh. Don’t panic.”
He’d known she was?
Reese touched her cheek, ran two fingers along her jaw. “I don’t relish the idea of folding myself onto your couch again.”
Confirmed. He wanted to leave her. Her heart tripped as she stood, her mind searching for words to convince him to stay.
Cash sidled out from between them and headed out of the room, probably going to the aforementioned couch.
They stared at each other. Her voice quavered as much as her nerve. “I...I don’t want you to leave.”
Rock-steady, he held her gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Just that fast, anxiety deflated. “You’re not?”
“The path your thoughts take...” He shook his head, that cocky, crooked little smile in place again. “I want to share your bed, honey.”
Share her...? As in sleep with her, under the covers with her, his big body right there, hot and solid, comforting and so tempting...
“Just sleep for now. Not sex. But I’d love to stay closer tonight.” He brought up her chin. “May I, Alice?”
Elation burst through her. “Okay.” More than okay. Already her toes curled, and a sweet ache unfurled. She breathed a little faster.
“Not for sex,” he chided again.
For tonight, for right now, she’d take what she could get. “Okay.”
His smile curled more. “Not just yet, anyway.”
She nodded. She wasn’t ready yet—but now she knew she would be...and soon.
He cupped the back of her neck, his mood shifting in some intense, indefinable way. “Now seems like a good time for that kiss we discussed.”
Before she could even absorb what he’d said, he touched his mouth to hers, warm, barely there at first, then more firmly. He moved his mouth over hers, parting her lips, angling his head to fit her more surely.
On a sound of wonder, Alice sank against him.
Wrapping one arm around her, he gathered her closer still, drew her in until her breasts pressed into the solid muscles of his body. Her heart thundered.