Exasperation shone in Shelley’s eyes. “I mean, really like him. The kind of like that happens between a man and a woman.”
Dani suddenly busied herself studying the flowered design on her sweatshirt. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do.”
To her relief, Shelley didn’t pursue the subject, and Dani was happy to let it go. Falling in love wasn’t in her plans. Love didn’t mean a happy ending. Look at Jerry and Stephanie Brooks. They must have thought they were in love, at least at first.
She was wary of love, wary of the power it gave the object of that love over you. Yes, guardedness was definitely what she felt for Jake, among other more confused emotions.
She gave an exaggerated sniff. “I’d better hit the shower.”
When Shelley suggested shopping an hour later, Dani jumped at the chance to do something normal.
They spent the next couple of hours at the Peachtree Mall. Shelley zeroed in on a pair of impossible-to-wear stilettos while Dani tried to decide between a cocktail dress in lipstick-red and one in black. Though she had suitable dresses, she wanted something new to give her confidence. “I’ve got this thing to go to at the end of next week,” she confided.
“‘This thing’ as in the Georgia Benefits Award Night?” Shelley asked.
“How did you know?”
“I follow the news. I heard you were up for an award.”
Dani made a face. “That’s the last thing I want. But I promised the director of the shelter I’d be there. It’s for a good cause.” She held up the two dresses. “Which one?”
“The red. Everyone will be in black. You’ll stand out.”
“I don’t want to stand out.”
“Honey, every woman wants to stand out. Besides, red is Jake’s favorite color.”
In the end, Dani decided upon the red dress, but only because it was on sale, she told herself. It had nothing to do with red being Jake’s favorite color.
Nothing at all.
* * *
Jake knew he’d acted like a heel. He’d all but abandoned Dani. That he’d left her with Shelley wasn’t the point. He’d known that Shelley would protect Dani with her own life, but Dani was his responsibility.
His reasons were not noble, not noble at all. Letting Dani see him in the throes of a nightmare was unacceptable. It made him vulnerable, and vulnerable was the one thing he could not be.
That was why he’d stopped going to the shrink. The doctor had labeled him as having PTSD. He had the occasional nightmare. No big deal.
And that was how he would treat the incident with Dani. As no big deal.
When he returned to the house, he found Dani in the front room, a pad of paper propped on her lap. She looked subdued, but the hurt was gone from her eyes.
“Hey, about earlier—”
“You needed a breather. I get it.”
There was no reproachful scene as he’d feared.
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“I’ve got to work on my speech for next Friday. There’s no time during the week. Not with everything else going on.”
“About next Friday. There’s no getting around it. It’s a bad idea.”
“I’m going, Jake. Please don’t try to talk me out of it.” She grabbed her papers and headed to her room.
It turned out that Shelley wasn’t as forgiving as Dani. She tore into him when Dani left. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Dani, but you better get your act together, big brother. Running out on a client isn’t how S & J Security operates.”
He could offer no excuse because there was none. “I blew it. I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” Her gaze softened. “You have nightmares. I get it. Just don’t let them get in the way of the job.”
Shelley had pegged it. He’d allowed a personal problem to interfere with the job. It was not only unacceptable; it was unprofessional. Deltas didn’t desert a job because it got hairy.
Suck it up, he told himself, and do the job.
SIX
Shelley had been right.
The red dress made a statement. Dani did a little spin in front of the mirror, enjoying the flounce of the flirty skirt as it swirled around her legs. More, it gave her courage, and she needed an extra dose tonight.
She spent more time than usual with her makeup, playing up her eyes with smoky shadow and deepening her lips to a showstopping scarlet. The look was more dramatic than her everyday look, but she decided she liked the effect.
She’d tried to convince herself the threat was over, that the stalker had had his fun and had moved on, but she knew she was only fooling herself. She also knew Jake didn’t believe the danger was over.
Things had been tense between them for a few days after the nightmare. She regretted that, just as she regretted Jake didn’t trust her enough to share his nightmares with her. He’d made it clear that night had been a mistake.
Despite that, she trusted him, as much as she’d ever trusted anyone, aside from the Lord. The Lord had always been there for her and would continue to be there for her. Once the job was done, Jake would move on.
Not so the Lord. He was there to stay.
Whatever she felt for Jake was fleeting, temporary at best. It wasn’t like her to give her heart to a man, any man. Occasionally she wondered if her reluctance to fall in love stemmed more from her feelings about her mother’s abandonment than it did from her feelings about love itself. Was she allowing fear that someone else would leave her to rule her life and hold her hostage?
Acknowledging that she had never been in love with Victor, she had remained heart-whole since parting ways with him, and he had never roused the same feelings within her as Jake did. An impatient shake of her head should have cleared away the cobwebs that had taken up residence there. Instead, she felt more confused than ever.
Jake walked in at that moment. He was stunning in a conservatively cut tuxedo that showed off the breadth of his shoulders. A snowy-white shirt and black bow tie completed the look. The stark contrast of black and white enhanced his masculinity in subtle ways.
Before she could compliment him on his appearance, he bent his head and kissed her. Gently, so very gently. Softly, so very softly. And said, “Wow.”
Wow, indeed. The kiss was gossamer light, a touch of butterfly wings, but it warmed her through and through. Wave after wave of longing flooded through her.
It was a kiss, nothing more. A barely-there kiss at that. She’d do well to remember why Jake was there.
He was a soldier, a man accustomed to action, even violence when necessary. They had nothing in common. When her stalker was found, Jake would take another job and move on.
With that self-administered dose of brutal honesty, she was able to put things in perspective and gave a small courtesy. “Thank you, kind sir, but you should thank Shelley.”
“Why should I thank Shelley?”
“She convinced me to buy the red dress instead of the black.”
“Remind me to thank her,” Jake said fervently. “You look incredible.”
“I wish I felt fabulous,” she confided in a husky whisper. “You think something’s going to happen tonight, don’t you?”
“Your stalker’s been quiet for over a week. Maybe it’s over.” But he didn’t sound convinced.
“But you don’t believe that.”
“No,” he said quietly. “I don’t.”
She stiffened her shoulders and her resolve. “Then we’ll deal with it.”
Jake lifted the jacket of his tux just enough to reveal the weapon he had holstered at his waist. “You’re right. We’ll deal.”
She had no doubt that he’d risk his life to protect her. Lord, she prayed silently, please keep Jake safe. I know everythi
ng, including our very lives, is in Your hands.
Jake was silent, as if sensing her need for a moment of quiet. “You were saying a prayer, weren’t you?” he asked quietly.
She wasn’t surprised at his sensitivity and nodded. “Sometimes I need to talk to the Lord, even when it’s not convenient.”
Dani appreciated his understanding, especially knowing that he had his doubts. Jake’s avowed lack of belief didn’t ring true, and she wondered whom he was trying to convince—her or himself.
She turned her attention to the gun he carried.
Thanks to her father, who had one of the most extensive collections in the South, Dani knew her way around guns and could distinguish one weapon from the next. At various times, she had had to cross-examine policemen about their use of firearms and was grateful that she knew enough about them to ask the right questions.
Tonight, Jake carried a Glock. She recognized the automatic pistol and recalled her father saying at one time that the Austrian firm that manufactured the Glock had perfected the process of producing high-polymer handguns that could withstand the roughest treatment.
She watched as he strapped on an ankle gun, a Kahr P40. A whisper of a chill passed over her at what the guns represented.
“Are those really necessary?” she asked, then flushed at the stupidity of the question. Of course they were necessary.
“I think so.” He drew her to him. “No one’s going to hurt you. Not without going through me first.”
It was absurd, but the protectiveness of his words gave her a rush of warmth. She was a job, she reminded herself, but Jake made it feel like more. Her pleasure in the words faded as she once more absorbed the significance of the guns he wore with such practiced ease.
The sight of the lethal-looking weapons, along with the grim note in Jake’s voice, emphasized his worry about tonight. Perhaps she should skip the awards night and just stay home. Before the thought fully formed, she rejected it.
She had made a promise, and she wasn’t going to break it. Tonight’s event was to raise money for something in which she believed strongly. She wouldn’t allow her stalker to steal the chance from her to make a difference for so many women.
She felt a vague embarrassment at her relief at Jake’s solid presence. She was a grown woman who had been taking care of herself for years. She shouldn’t rely on him, but knowing that she didn’t have to face all this by herself felt good.
She held out a wispy shawl in gold mesh.
Jake placed it upon her shoulders. “The mayor’s not going to thank you for this,” he said.
“Why?”
“When people get a look at you, they’ll forget he’s even there.”
That earned a laugh from her. “You’re good for the ego.”
“Just telling it like it is.”
By the time they arrived at the Center for the Arts, Dani felt more in control and ready to enjoy the evening. Much of that had to do with the steady stream of light banter that Jake had kept up during the drive there.
“Stay close,” he said when he escorted her inside the beautiful building. “I don’t want you out of my sight. Even for a minute.”
She nodded.
* * *
If Jake had thought they’d spend the night seated at a table, he was mistaken. Dani moved from one table to the next, stopping here and there to chat with people who were clearly enchanted with her. She was worth watching, he thought, a combination of grace, confidence and vitality.
The room was filled with the beautiful, the powerful, the influential. There was plenty of glamour and glitz, glad-handing and cheek-bussing.
In her red gown, Dani stood out as a flame. There were other women who were equally beautiful, he supposed, but the glint of purpose in her eyes set her apart.
Though he realized she was doing her part to raise money for the battered women’s shelter, he wished she would stay put. It would have made his job that much easier.
When she finally took her seat at the head table, he drew a relieved sigh. As he’d done when they’d arrived, he scanned the room again with a practiced eye. Three exits. Discreet security guards at each. He’d filled in the chief of security about the threats on Dani’s life, giving the man descriptions of Patricia Newton and Jerry Brooks for good measure, in addition to powwowing with Detective Monroe to make sure that undercover officers were also present. The detective had promised to be there, as well. “Dani’s one of ours,” he’d said simply.
They were covered, but Jake knew all too well how easily things could go south in an operation.
Background checks on the catering staff had not raised any red flags, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t a danger. An event like this was rife with opportunity for an attack. There were too many variables.
As the salad course was served, Jake’s phone vibrated. With a glance at Dani that told her to stay put, he excused himself from the table and moved a few feet away.
“Jake.”
He heard the anxiety in Shelley’s voice. “What is it?” he asked.
“I was doing a second pass at the catering staff and found something. Patricia Newton was hired on for tonight.”
“Why didn’t we see that before?”
“She used her maiden name—Cahid. I should have picked up on it.” Self-reproach filled her voice. “I’m sorry.”
Jake went on full alert. “I’ll get back to you.” He hung up the phone without giving Shelley a chance to say more and hurried back to the table. He lifted the cover off Dani’s plate and stared at the commonplace-looking salad.
“Don’t touch it,” he ordered.
By now, the security chief had moved in. “What’s up?” Concern creased the man’s forehead, digging grooves between his brows.
“Maybe nothing. But I don’t want Ms. Barclay eating anything. I just learned that Patricia Newton is on the catering staff. It’s no coincidence that she’s here tonight. She could have slipped something into Dani’s food.”
To his credit, the man didn’t bother asking a bunch of questions. Monroe joined them as well, barking out an order to one of the other men. “Stay with her,” he said, pointing to Dani. “Don’t let her out of your sight.” He turned to Jake. “Let’s you and me pay a visit to the kitchen.”
In the kitchen, they found the head chef. “Patricia Cahid,” Jake said. “Where is she?”
The rotund man shot them a harried look. “How should I know?” He waved a hand. “Out there.”
Jake and the detective split up. When Jake spotted the woman, she was slipping out a side door. “Stop her.”
The security guard stationed at the door detained her until Jake took over, clamping a hand around the woman’s arm. “Going somewhere?”
“Let go of me.” Newton tried to yank her arm free but couldn’t break Jake’s grasp. “I have done nothing.”
“Then why are you leaving before the job’s over?”
“I have a headache.” She put a hand to her temple in a pathetic gesture.
By now, Monroe had joined them. “Let’s take this somewhere more private,” he suggested.
Jake saw they had attracted unwanted attention. He steered them into a cloakroom, then grabbed Newton’s backpack. He rifled through it and came up with a small container. “What do we have here?” He sniffed. “Peanut oil.” How would Newton know Dani was allergic to peanuts?
Her head came up. “So? It is not illegal to have peanut oil.”
“Unless you happen to put it on Danielle Barclay’s salad. She’s allergic to it,” he explained to the police detective.
Monroe pulled out a pair of cuffs and clamped them around the woman’s wrists. “This is going to earn you another charge and likely more jail time.”
Patricia Newton muttered something in a language Jake d
idn’t recognize, but he had a pretty good idea of what she was saying.
“That was close,” Monroe said.
“Too close.”
They returned to where Dani waited. By then, a crowd had gathered around her. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“You’re going to have to skip dinner,” Jake said.
Monroe took her plate and signaled to one of his men, who took it away. “We’ll check it out. If we find peanut oil—and I think we will—Newton’s going away for a long time on another charge of attempted murder.”
Dani had gone pale. “Peanut oil. Why didn’t I smell it?”
“The spices in the dressing masked it,” Jake said. “We need to get you home.”
She shook her head. “I’m staying.”
“No way.”
“You’ve already foiled the plot,” she pointed out and would have made him laugh with the old-fashioned phrase if he hadn’t been so worried. “I’m safe now.”
“Just because we’ve stopped one thing doesn’t mean there isn’t something else.”
She lifted her chin, a gesture he was coming to recognize. Though she remained sitting, she had a quiet air of authority. “I have a speech to make.”
“What time are you on?”
“In forty-five minutes.”
He helped her up. “Come on.”
“Where’re we going?”
“To get you a hot dog.”
“A hot dog. Is that your cure for everything?”
“What’s yours?”
“Prayer,” she answered promptly. “Prayer is the ultimate protection.”
Jake ignored that and, taking her hand in his, headed to the kitchen. “Let’s see what the chef can fix up for us.”
In the end, they didn’t have hot dogs but managed to convince the chef to fix sandwiches for them after explaining the circumstances.
“On my staff? A murderer? It is not to be believed!” The volatile man was nearly apoplectic upon learning that Newton had finagled a job with his catering staff.
“No one’s blaming you,” Jake reassured him, for what seemed like the twelfth time. “But I’m sure you can understand that Ms. Barclay doesn’t feel like eating anything the woman might have contaminated.”
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