by Mallory Kane
A spark lit Reilly’s eyes that reminded her so much of Ryker her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. “Not always.”
“If you won’t take me I’ll call a cab.”
Reilly arched a brow at her. “You gonna go like that?”
Her cheeks blazed. “No.” She had to think for a second. The tranquilizer had done a pretty good job. “No. He’s got a sweatshirt I can wear. It’ll look like a mini-dress. A weird one, but it’ll cover me.”
“Listen, Nicole. I’m just the babysitter here. Why don’t you lie down for a little longer and we’ll talk about this when you’re feeling better?”
There was nothing Nicole wanted to do more than go back to sleep. She wanted to recapture the dream in which Ryker had promised her that they were going home. But that wasn’t going to happen. She and he had had the home discussion. They were too different.
Her life had been one continuous downward spiral until she’d stopped it by taking control of her destiny. She would never have the kind of home and family Ryker had, but she could make a home for herself. It would be small and inexpensive, but it would be hers. And as long as she could take care of herself, nobody would be able to take it away from her.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m going home.” She threw back the covers and stood up in the flimsy undershirt Ryker had given her to sleep in.
Reilly took one look at her and his cheeks flamed. “Okay, I’m—I’ve, I’ll just wait in the living room. When you’re ready I’ll take you to your apartment.”
He left the room muttering, “Ryker’s going to kill me.”
Nicole smiled a sad little smile as she looked around the bedroom for Ryker’s sweatshirt. Spotting it draped across the top of a dresser, she quickly donned it and looked for her shoes. Stepping into the bathroom, she checked her hair. It was a mess, but there was nothing she could do about it with her hands bandaged.
Looking from the mirror to her hands, she made up her mind. The EMT had said the burns on her hands were first degree. Which meant they’d be red and they’d hurt, but they were not going to blister and they weren’t going to scar. She could use them, carefully. She peeled off the gauze and looked at her palms and fingers. Red—definitely. Rather bright.
She stuck her tongue to the pad of her thumb. Burned. Gingerly, she picked up Ryker’s comb and pushed it carefully through her hair, gritting her teeth at the burning of her fingers. Good enough.
Then she stepped out into the living room.
“I’m ready.”
Reilly turned around and stared at her as if she were an assassin. “I can’t change your mind?”
She just stood there.
“Not even if I tell you Ryker will skin me alive?”
“Sorry.”
“What about if I tell you what a complete idiot he is? My stubborn, clueless brother is head over heels for you. Seriously. He’s always dated around. I’m not sure he’s ever had a real serious relationship. But this past year—” Reilly shook his head. “All I can say is, he’s never acted like this before—ever.”
“Like what?” Nicole hadn’t meant to ask, but the words had come out before she could stop them. She didn’t want to let Reilly get her hopes up.
“Like a man in love. Obsessed. This past year he’s taken it as his personal mission to keep you safe. I know for a fact he hasn’t been out on a date in at least a year. Maybe longer. Every time I talked to him, he was at your restaurant, going to it or coming back from it.” Reilly gave her a searching look. “My opinion? If you’re not here when he gets home, he’ll be devastated.”
“Devastated? Ryker?” Nicole laughed and shook her head. That did it. He’d gone too far. Embellished too much. So she knew he was lying.
Ryker Delancey didn’t love her. To him, she was a means to an end. Because of her, he’d caught his killer.
His job was done. And therefore, so was hers.
IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT when Ryker got home. He was ready to hit the sack, but he wanted to check on Nicole first. Part of him hoped she’d taken a pain pill and gone to sleep, but part of him wanted to gather her in his arms and tell her—what?
He had no idea what he would say. All he knew was when he’d entered the kitchen and hadn’t seen her, he’d been terrified that the October Killer had shot her. In that moment, he’d known that life without her wouldn’t be worth living.
“Hey, kid,” he greeted his twin, who was stretched out on his couch. “How’s Nicole?”
Reilly sat up yawning. “She’s fine.”
Ryker headed across the room. “She’s asleep, I hope.”
“I guess,” Reilly said.
Ryker turned at the tone in his voice. Reilly had gotten up from the couch and was reaching for his leather jacket.
“What do you mean you guess?” He pushed the bedroom door open and saw the empty bed. He glanced toward the bathroom, but the door was open and the lights were out.
He whirled. “Where the hell is Nic?”
“I took her to her apartment,” Reilly said evenly as he pulled his car keys out of his jacket pocket.
“You what?” Ryker roared at his twin brother. “What the hell’s the matter with you? She’s in no shape to take care of herself. I can’t trust you to do a damn thing.”
Reilly frowned, but he stood his ground. “She wanted to go back to her apartment. You didn’t tell me I was guarding a prisoner. I thought I was here to keep an eye on a victim of a crime.” He shrugged. “She asked me to take her, and I did.”
Ryker advanced, fists doubled at his sides. “You let her bully you, didn’t you? I should have known. A rent-a-cop could have done a better job.” Ryker pushed his fingers through his hair. “Get out of my way. I’m going after her.”
Reilly didn’t move from in front of the door. “You’d better listen to me, old man. I’m only going to tell you this once. You’re an idiot. I’m warning you, you’d better be careful with her. She’s not a trophy, something you can just take because you want it, like captain of the football team or a detective position with the sheriff’s office. She’s a living, breathing and, by the way, beautiful human being, with a mind of her own.” Reilly opened the door, then turned back. “And if you had a lick of sense, you’d realize—”
“What?” Ryker stepped closer and got in his brother’s face. He clenched his fists at his side. “I’d realize what?”
“That you’re about to let your stubborn need to control everything and everybody lose you the best thing that ever happened to you.” Reilly headed down the steps and out to his car, leaving Ryker standing there.
Ryker stepped outside and started to slam the door. He’d go get Nicole and bring her back here. She’d be better off here.
Wouldn’t she? Damn Reilly, he thought as his brother started his Camaro and pulled away from the curb.
Why had she left? He’d told her he’d take care of her. He’d guarded her and protected her. What more could she want?
For some reason the word forever whispered through his mind.
NICOLE WENT BACK to the restaurant three days later. Her hands still hurt but they were much better, and she was going crazy in her apartment.
She was surprised to find Job there. His right arm was in a sling, but it didn’t slow him down a bit. Richard was planning the menu and Job was explaining to a kitchen staff person how to properly knead bread dough.
When Job saw her he grinned and hugged her with one arm. She hugged him back and told him how sorry she was that she’d gotten him mixed up in her problem.
Job just shook his head and hugged her tightly again. “I’m just glad you’re back. You sure you can make it the whole evening? How’re your hands?” he asked.
“They’re sore, but I’ll be fine. I’ll leave early if I have too much trouble.”
Job’s thick brows drew down. “I don’t want you to be hurting, but if you think you could stay at least until eight o’clock, I’d be most appreciative.”
Nicole nodded, although
she thought his request on her first day back was odd. Usually Job bent over backward to keep her from working too much. “Think you can make the tea?”
“Absolutely,” she replied.
THAT EVENING, one of the waiters came into the kitchen with a panicked look on his face.
“Nicole, there’s a man out there demanding to see the chef.”
Nicole glanced at Richard. “Someone wanting to compliment you, Richard.”
Richard just smiled at her blandly.
“No, no, ma’am,” the young waiter said. “He wants to see whoever made the desserts. He’s furious.”
Job chuckled and Richard sniffed. “Sure am glad you made the desserts tonight, Nicole.”
“I was careful,” she said. “Granted I made all cold desserts so I wouldn’t have to get near the stove with these hands, but I know they were good. I tasted them.”
“I can’t go back out there,” the waiter whined. “Not unless—”
“It’s okay, Tim. I’m going.” Nicole carefully dried her hands on her dish towel and straightened her shoulders. When she pushed through the swinging door into the dining room, she saw about a dozen patrons. Some were digging into their entrees, some were lingering over coffee. Others still held menus.
Then she saw him.
Ryker was sitting at his regular table with a tiramisu in front of him.
There is nothing wrong with that tiramisu, she thought. This is just a ruse to get me to talk to him. She arched an eyebrow and strolled over to his table in her most regal manor. “Is there a problem, sir?”
He looked up at her and she could swear she saw a flicker of fear in his blue eyes. He started to say something, but instead he swallowed.
“Ryker? Is something wrong?” Something other than the dessert. His hesitation was beginning to scare her. Was he here to give her some bad news? Was Moser not the October Killer?
At that thought, Nicole’s knees went weak and she had to grab the back of a chair to steady herself.
Ryker cleared his throat and spoke. “Chef, there’s something in my tiramisu,” he said.
“Something—?” She looked at the dish in panic. What in the world? A strand of hair? A fly? Her cheeks heated.
Behind her, she heard smothered chuckles. She glanced toward the kitchen and saw Job and Richard standing there with pained looks on their faces. What was going on?
“Well?” Ryker snapped.
“I—I’m sorry. I’ll take it back.” When she reached for the dessert dish, Ryker caught her hand in his.
“No. Not yet,” he said loudly. “First I want you and the entire restaurant to see what’s in it.” With his other hand, he pointed at the edge of the whipped cream.
Nicole stared at him. There was something definitely fishy going on. His cheeks were pink and his eyes still held a flicker of wariness.
He still held on to her hand, so she obediently bent down and squinted at where he had pointed on the creamy dessert. She couldn’t see anything. She started to raise her head and there it was. A spark of light. A bright spark of light.
“Do you see this?” Ryker asked as he fished the sparkly object out of the whipped cream and held it before her eyes.
It was round and gold and covered with snow-white cream. Nicole couldn’t speak.
“Is it yours?”
She shook her head dumbly, staring at it, her brain refusing to form a coherent thought.
“Are you sure?” Ryker’s voice rose. What was he trying to do?
By this time the other diners had stopped and turned toward them, and out of the corner of her eye, Nicole saw that the rest of the kitchen staff and Ryker’s brother Reilly had joined Job and Richard in the doorway.
“What are you doing?” she whispered to Ryker.
He swallowed. “I’m trying to ask you to marry me.” He picked up her left hand and slid the whipped-cream-covered ring onto her third finger.
“So?” he asked, sliding out of his seat and onto one knee. “Will you marry me, or will you leave me kneeling here in the middle of all these people with whipped cream on my hands?”
Nicole sank to the floor in a crouch. “Ryker, how can we—I mean, we hardly know each other.”
“What do you mean?” he asked with a smile. “I’ve had dinner with you nearly every night for a year.” Then he took a deep breath and his face turned serious. “I know I haven’t been very nice to you, but I was trying to keep you alive. I need you, Nic. My family is huge, and in a lot of ways wonderful and a lot of ways awful. But it’s time for me to have my own family. Will you be my family? Will you build a home with me? A place we can always be safe together?”
Nicole could barely breathe. “Are you sure?” she asked. “We’re so—different.”
Ryker shook his head. “No, we’re not. We both want the same thing. Love. Happiness. Security. Now, I’ll give you one more chance to have the last word. Will you marry me and let me give you a home?”
Nicole’s heart soared as she smiled and kissed his lips. “You’ve already given me a home. My home is in your heart.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6913-6
DOUBLE-EDGED DETECTIVE
Copyright © 2010 by Rickey R. Mallory
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†Black Hills Brotherhood
*The Delancey Dynasty
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen