by Leann Harris
“The woman?” she asked, dazed.
His hands skimmed up her arms, coming to rest at the base of her neck. “Tell me, J.D., what that passionate female buried deep in you feels, the woman who kissed me with such sweet abandon at her house last Saturday.”
His finger tilted her chin up and his lips met hers. He rocked his mouth across hers gently before settling firmly on her lips. She melted into him, opening her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss.
She was magic and star fire. A burning light, bright and warm, in his darkness. His arms closed around her waist and drew her gently to him. He slipped his hands under the sweatshirt to find the satin smoothness of her back.
He feasted on her sweetness. His mouth trailed down her neck, tasting the flavor of her skin. She threw her head back, giving him access to the pulse point at the base of her neck.
In the distance, Luke thought he heard a pounding on a door. Confused, he pulled back and listened. This time his doorbell rang. He shook off the drugging effects of her kiss, opened the drawer by the refrigerator and pulled out his service revolver.
“Stay here,” he commanded. He slipped out of the kitchen into the hall. With his back to the wall, he moved to the front door, careful to stay out of view of the windows. He peeked out the security hole in the door and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his captain, Al York, standing outside. Immediately, Luke opened the door.
“Evening, Captain. What brings you to my humble abode?”
York was an intimidating man. At six foot three inches, he towered over most of the men in the department and most of the suspects he arrested. When people met Al for the first time, they would shrink away from the bone-crushing handshake and piercing green eyes.
York pointed to J.D., who was walking out of the kitchen. “The counselor there.”
Luke wanted to yell at her for not listening to him and staying put, but before he could open his mouth, she spoke.
“What do you need to see me about?”
“Your secretary has been to every government agency in the city looking for you. She has caused any number of headaches, mainly mine. She threatened to call everyone from the president to your father if we don’t let her see you. Why don’t you call the little lady and tell her you’re all right?”
“Oh, heavens, we can’t have her calling my dad.” A sheepish expression crossed J.D.’s face. “I’m sorry. Emma can be a little overenthusiastic at times. I’ll just go call her.”
“Do that,” Captain York replied. Luke heard the exasperation in York’s voice and bit back a smile.
Once J.D. was on the phone, Luke turned to the other man. “Why didn’t you just call with the message? Is there another reason you came over here?”
Al grinned and scratched the back of his blond head. “I was just curious to meet the infamous Terminator. Since she married one of my men, I felt this need to make her acquaintance face-to-face.”
Luke didn’t doubt that York was curious about J.D. When he’d met with the captain this morning and told him about the bombing, he also filled York in on what had happened in Las Vegas. But something else besides curiosity had brought the captain to his home. “And what’s the other reason you’re here?”
York pulled a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to Luke. “I thought you might like to look at the fire marshal’s preliminary report. He’s even come up with a suspect.”
“Who?” Luke asked, scanning the page.
“A pro who lives just outside of Austin. The M.O.’s match. If this is the guy, someone paid him to do the job. We’re seeking a court order to see if he received any long-distance phone calls in the last few days.”
Hearing J.D. say goodbye to her secretary, Luke shoved the report under some papers on his desk. He wasn’t in the mood to go twenty questions with the counselor right now.
“Well, Emma’s calmed down. And you’ll be happy to hear that I got to her before she tracked down my father in Venezuela. If you think Emma’s a pain, then you’ve never met my dad.”
Luke glanced at York. “Trust her, Captain. She knows what she’s talking about. He makes Emma look like a pussycat.”
York’s eyes widened, then he looked at J.D. “That bad?”
“Worse,” Luke replied emphatically, remembering his last encounter with George Anderson. He turned to J.D. “Can Emma help you with your cases?”
“Yes. Tomorrow she’s going over to the courthouse to see what we can do.”
Captain York moved to the door. “Well, I’ve got to get going. My daughter has a soccer game at seven-thirty.” He offered J.D. his hand. When she placed hers in his, York’s eyes rested on the torn knuckles and bruising. “It was a pleasure to meet you, even under these circumstances.”
“It’s nice to be on the same side as the police for a change,” she told him.
“Oh, before you leave, York,” said Luke, “I’ve got the name of that soccer camp I was telling you about for your daughter. Let me go get it.”
When Luke disappeared down the hall, Al turned to J.D. “Luke McGill is my best man. He’ll protect you with his life.”
Her brows knitted in a frown. “I didn’t doubt that for a minute, Captain.”
York nodded. “Luke and I have been through a lot together. He stood by me when my wife was killed, and I decided the only way to deal with her death was at the bottom of a bottle. He put himself on the line for me. He’s doing it again for you. Don’t take advantage of him.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Here it is, York,” Luke called from down the hall. “Shelly will like this camp,” Luke assured Al, handing him the paper.
“I know she will.” He pocketed the paper. “Call me if you need anything,” York told Luke. He nodded to J.D., a warning in his eyes, and walked out the door.
The captain’s words caught her by surprise, but J.D. didn’t think the man had come all this way simply to admonish her. There was more. As they watched York drive away, she asked, “What did he really want?”
“He wanted to meet the Terminator.”
She didn’t buy Luke’s answer for a minute. “I don’t believe you.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Too bad, because that’s the only explanation you’re going to get from me.”
With a satisfied grin, he walked into the kitchen, leaving J.D to gape at his retreating back. She hated closemouthed men.
CHAPTER 13
The nightmare brought J.D. bolt upright in bed. Her scream had barely left her mouth when Luke burst through the door, gun in hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. Dressed only in jogging shorts, a weapon in his hand, crouched ready for battle, he looked like a primitive man protecting his mate. He certainly evoked those feelings in her.
She was shaking so badly that she had to hug herself to keep from flying into a million pieces. “It was just a bad dream.” She forced the words through clenched teeth. “I’m okay. Sorry I woke you.”
His eyes took in her trembling form. He walked to the bed and sat down next to her. After laying his service revolver on the floor, he pinned her with his fierce gaze.
“Liar.”
Her eyes closed, allowing the warm caress in his voice to wrap around her. How he could reach down into her darkness and despair and touch her with golden light she didn’t know. No one else could do what Luke did so easily.
She was startled out of her mental wandering when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down onto the bed. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she absorbed his fire, setting off small explosions all over her body. Her heart raced and she heard pounding in her ears. She knew she should send him away before her judgment faltered completely.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking up at him.
His answering smile was slow and sensuous. “I’m holding you.” His large hand cupped the back of her head and drew it to his naked shoulder.
“Because one of us needs to sleep, and since you’re the one who’s hurt, it should be you.” His hand moved over her back in slow, heavenly circles.
“Now who’s the liar, Detective? If you spend the night in this bed with me, we’ll definitely mess up our annulment.”
He tipped her chin up with his finger. “You’ve got my word, Counselor. Nothing will happen.”
She wanted to believe him, needed to believe him, but experience had taught her men didn’t keep their promises.
He must have read the doubt in her eyes, because he placed his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “Let me drive away the demons for you tonight, J.D.”
His soft plea slipped past all the mental barriers, wrapping itself around her heart.
She glanced up at him.
Trust me, his eyes entreated.
Something she could not control responded to him. Yes, she silently replied.
His head dipped down and he lightly brushed his lips over hers. “Go to sleep. Everything’s under control.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and slept.
* * *
The dream was more blissful and real than any he’d ever had. The woman was warm and willing, cuddling next to him. He moaned and pulled her closer. Her small hand tangled in the hair sprinkled across his chest. When her leg slipped between his, seeking closer contact, nudging his already aroused flesh, he was catapulted into consciousness. Painful consciousness.
When he looked down at J.D. wrapped so intimately around his body, he nearly lost the little self-control that remained.
Her sleep shirt had ridden all the way up her legs, giving him an unobstructed view of thigh and calf. Through the slit on the side of the shirt, he could see her white briefs. She was a tempting little thing, curled like a kitten against his side. He wanted to stroke her and hear her purr.
And he didn’t doubt she would purr. The chemistry between them was too strong to deny. He wanted to wake her with long, languid kisses, his hands molding her womanly curves. But he’d promised her that she would be safe with him, and too many times in her life J.D. had been betrayed. He couldn’t bring himself to do it again to her.
He cursed himself for being so stupid for making the promise. But it was made, and he’d live by it if it killed him. And he was sure it would.
She shifted, rubbing her cheek against his chest. He nearly leaped out of his skin. He’d keep his word, but that didn’t mean he had to torture himself. He wrapped his hand around J.D.’s thigh and gingerly disengaged her from between his. She protested in her sleep. He slipped from under her hold and stood. Pausing, he looked down at her.
She was such a beautiful sight that he was almost willing to throw away his principles and crawl back in bed with her. No, that would only satisfy a momentary urge, but in the long run it would hurt both him and J.D.
He brushed a kiss across her forehead and left the room.
* * *
The sun streaming through the bedroom windows woke J.D. She scanned the room. Luke was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear the sounds of weights clanking against each other and an occasional grunt.
Throwing off the sheet, she climbed out of bed. The noise drew her down the hall to the weight room. She stopped at the door and looked inside. Luke lay on his bench press, pumping weights. He still wore only his jogging shorts, and she watched in fascination the flex and ripple of his muscles as he pushed the barbell out to arm’s length and then brought it to his chest again. When he saw her, he replaced the weight in its resting place and sat up. His eyes were dark and fiery.
Self-conscious, she glanced down at the cotton sleep shirt she’d bought yesterday. The bright yellow material was loose enough not to show any detail or curve. Yet the steam in Luke’s gaze made her aware of her state of undress.
“Do you usually work out so early in the morning?” She forced the words out around the lump in her throat.
Luke snatched the towel from the end of the bench and wiped his face. “It was that or break my promise to you.”
“Oh.” The word seemed to thud, like a boulder tossed onto the floor.
Great comeback, she told herself, trying to look away, but found she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. He had a wonderfully sculpted chest. His skin glistened with sweat, and she longed to run her hands over the resilient muscles.
Fantasies.
Good heavens, she was fantasizing, freely and vividly. He said he’d teach her to do it. He just didn’t know he’d succeeded.
Her eyes wandered over his chest and up to his face. She swallowed hard when she saw raw desire burning in his eyes. She felt as if the ground had suddenly disappeared under her feet.
“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, Counselor, I’m going to lay you down on this floor and make love to you until we’re both senseless.”
The idea appealed to her. Yet she remained silent.
He walked to the door and stopped inches from her. Silently he asked if she was sure she wanted to deny them that pleasure. She gave a slight nod.
He ran one finger across her uninjured cheek. She must look a sight now that the dressing had been taken off her face. He opened his mouth, then shook his head. Without a word, he passed her and strode into the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee,” he called over his shoulder.
J.D.’s eyes fluttered closed. Was she doing the right thing denying them both? She certainly wasn’t doing the natural thing. Her friends would tell her she was nuts for not taking up Luke on his invitation. You need to loosen up, girl, they told her. Find a man and have a good fling. That might have been right for others, but it wasn’t for her. She wanted commitment and love. Maybe she was being Pollyannaish, but she couldn’t help it, that’s how she felt.
She sighed and shook her head. Wouldn’t Luke be shocked if he knew what a dreamer she really was?
When she wandered into the kitchen, he was pouring the water into the coffeemaker.
“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Luke said.
“That’s fine.”
“While it’s brewing, I’ll take my shower. Mugs are in the cupboard to the left of the sink.”
She avoided looking at him. She was on shaky ground already and she didn’t think she could handle any more temptation. After she heard him walk to the bathroom, she retrieved a mug and poured herself coffee.
Opening the back door, she strolled out onto the wooden deck and sat down on the step leading to the yard. It was a beautiful September morning, temperature in the low seventies.
She inhaled, enjoying the brief moment of peace. Was it only last week she’d had a home, a practice, a fairly sane existence—and been single? None of that was true today.
J.D. knew how she felt about most of the changes. Spitting mad and ready to hang out to dry the culprit who was behind the ill deeds.
She took a sip of coffee. But there was one thing that had her stumped. She couldn’t define how she felt about the abrupt change in her marital status. Oh, granted there had always been something between her and Luke. The attraction mixed with admiration and annoyance had come through clearly in their courtroom skirmishes. But as they spent time with each other over the last few days, the relationship had changed. The attraction had grown, deepened to an all-consuming need, one that interfered with coherent thinking.
There was no doubt about it, Luke was a brilliant detective, and seeing him operate firsthand had been a thrilling experience for her. Also, through this investigation, he had seen her in action, and from his reactions, he thought she was good.
But something else had changed between them. They had given part of themselves to each other. They had trusted enough to exchange hurtful secrets that had devastated their lives.
“Oh, McGill, what are we going to do? How could we have let this happen? Everything was going right in my life for a change, then bang, it all blows up i
n my face.” Hearing her words, she paused, then grinned. Everything had blown up in her face, literally and figuratively.
Her agitation quickly returned. She stood and walked down the remaining steps to the yard. The grass was cool beneath her bare feet. She stopped in front of a large, well-tended garden. Her brows puckered into a frown. A garden in a policeman’s yard? Luke said his father was a farmer, but she got the impression that Luke hadn’t wanted anything to do with that profession.
“Why are you scowling, J.D.?”
She spun around at the sound of Luke’s voice, sloshing coffee over the rim of her cup. Shaking her wet hand, she threw him a disgruntled look. He was dressed—thank goodness—in a white shirt and jeans.
He waited for her answer.
“I was trying to figure out why someone who had escaped the life of a farmer has a large garden in his yard.”
He focused on the rows of plants. “Remember I told you I rented out the house for a number of years?”
“Yes.”
“I rented it to a retired couple. Three years ago the husband died. His wife took it hard. The garden was a way to keep her occupied.”
“You mean you planted it for the widow?” She was afraid of his answer. She didn’t need another hole blasted in her defenses.
“Grace and I planted it together. I came occasionally and helped her weed. In return, I got fresh vegetables and she always canned things for me. When she got sick last year, I did it by myself. I think it helped keep her spirits up until she died.”
“That was kind of you, Luke.”
He shook his head. “No. It helped me as much as it did Grace. Working with the soil, planting, watching things grow felt good. It was like finding a part of myself that I had lost.” He glanced at her. “Now, what do you think the police shrink would make of that?”
“He’d say hurrah that you worked out your own problem without his help. I’m sure he’s as overworked as everyone in the police department.”
Luke laughed. “You’re right. Sidney would’ve run screaming from the building if I’d darkened his door.”