by Nora Roberts
“No.” Her heart picked up a beat at the thought. A dark, empty bar, blues on the juke, the world locked outside. “No, I have to go.”
“I’m shorthanded tonight, or I’d see you home. I’ll put you in a cab.”
“I can put myself in a cab.”
“Okay. In a minute.” He caught her by the hips, lifted her, then set her on the desk. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
Without thinking—he certainly had a way of making her stop thinking—she tilted her head to give him more access to her skin. “I’ve been busy.”
“I don’t doubt you’ve been busy.” He moved up to nip at her earlobe. “But you’ve been stubborn. I like that about you, Rachel. Right now I can’t think of a damn thing I don’t like about you.”
This was a mistake. Any minute she’d remember why it was a mistake. She was sure of it. “You just want to talk me into bed.”
His lips curved before they came down on hers. “Oh, yeah…” He fisted his hands in her hair, and a deep sound of pleasure came from his throat when she arched against him. “How’m I doing?”
“You’re making things very difficult for me.”
“Good. That’s good.” He was very close to pressing her back on the desk and doing all the things he’d fantasized about during those long, dark nights he’d lain alone in bed, thinking of her. And she sighed. The soft, broken sound of it seemed to rip something inside his gut. Grinding out an oath, he buried his face in her hair. “I sure pick my spots,” he muttered. “On the sidewalk with a mugger, in my office with a barful of customers outside the door. Every time I’m around you I start acting like a kid in the back seat of a parked car.”
She had to concentrate just to breathe. As he continued to hold her, just hold her, she found herself stroking his hair, counting his heartbeats, warming toward him in a way that was entirely different from the flash heat of a moment before.
She’d been right about the quicksand, she realized. And she’d been right about not sinking alone. “We’re not kids,” she murmured.
“No, we’re not.” Not quite sure he could trust himself, he drew back, taking both her hands in his. “I know it’s moving fast, and I know it’s complicated, but I want you. There’s no getting around it.”
“I knew this would happen if I came here tonight. I came anyway.” Muddled, she shook her head. “I don’t know what that says about me, or about us. I do know it’s not smart, and I’m usually smart. The best thing for me to do is walk out the door and go home.”
He tugged on her hands, bringing her off the desk and close to him again. “What are you going to do?”
She wavered, caught on the thin edge between temptation and common sense. Images of what could be swam giddily through her head and left her throat dry. Repercussions…she couldn’t quite see them clearly, but she knew they existed. And she was afraid they would be severe indeed.
“I’m going to walk out the door and go home.” She let out an unsteady breath when he said nothing. “For now.”
She grabbed up her jacket, her purse. When she reached the door, his hand closed over hers on the knob. A quick thrill of panicked excitement raced through her at the thought that he would simply turn the lock.
She wouldn’t permit it. Of course she wouldn’t permit it.
Would she?
“Sunday” was all he said.
Her scattered thoughts scrambled to make sense of the word. “Sunday?”
“I can shift things around and take the day off. Spend it with me.”
Relief. Confusion. Pleasure. She had no idea which emotion was uppermost. “You want to spend Sunday with me.”
“Yeah. You know, take in a couple of museums, maybe an art gallery, a walk in the park, have a fancy lunch somewhere. I figure most of the time we’ve spent together so far’s been after dark.”
Odd…that hadn’t occurred to her before. “I guess it has.”
“Why don’t we try a Sunday afternoon?”
“I…” She couldn’t think of a single reason why not. “All right. Why don’t you come by around eleven?”
“I’ll be there.”
She turned the knob, then glanced back at him. “Museums?” she said on a laugh. “Is this on the level, Muldoon?”
“I happen to appreciate art,” he told her, leaning forward to touch his lips to hers in a quiet kiss that rocked her back on her heels. “And beauty.”
She slipped out quickly. As she walked up to the corner to hail a cab, it occurred to her she hadn’t yet decided how best to handle Nick. And she sure as hell hadn’t figured out how to handle Nick’s big brother.
CHAPTER SIX
Rachel was cursing when her buzzer sounded promptly at eleven o’clock Sunday morning. Securing an earring, she pressed the intercom. “Muldoon?”
“You sound out of breath, sugar. Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Come on up,” she said shortly. “And don’t call me sugar.”
After snapping off the intercom, she flipped off her three security locks, then gave herself one last look in the mirror. She’d forgotten her second earring. Grumbling, she went on a quick search until she found it lying on the kitchen counter beside her empty coffee cup.
It was her day off, damn it. And she resented having it interrupted for work. Not because she’d been looking forward to spending it with Zack. Particularly. It was just that it had been a long time since she’d had a day to wander through museums and galleries, and— She broke off her silent complaining at the knock on the door.
“Come in, it’s open.”
“Anxious?” Zack commented as he walked in. Then he lifted a brow and took one long look. She was standing in the center of the room, slim and lovely in a bronze-toned suede jacket and short skirt set off by a slightly mannish silk blouse in a flashy blue. She was barefoot, and he found his mouth watering as he watched her perform the feminine and oddly intimate task of securing a shiny gold knot to her ear. “You look nice.”
“Thanks. You, too.” No, what he looked was sexy, she thought, damn sexy, in snug black jeans, a midnight-blue sweater, and a bomber jacket in soft black leather. But nice would have to do. “Listen, Zack, I tried to catch you before you left the bar. I’m sorry I missed you.”
“Is there a problem?” He watched as she wiggled one foot into a bronze-colored pump. By the time she’d wiggled into the second, his palms were sweaty and he’d missed what she’d said. “Sorry, what?”
“I said my boss called, about a half hour ago. I’ve got an attempted murder I have to deal with.”
That cut his fantasy off as quickly as a faceful of ice water. “A what?”
“Attempted murder. Alexi’s precinct. I can probably plead down to assault with a deadly weapon, but I have to see him today so I can meet with the DA in the morning.” She spread her hands. “I’m really sorry I didn’t catch you before you came all the way over.”
“No problem. I’ll go with you.”
“With me?” She liked the idea, a little too much. “You don’t want to spoil your day off spending it at a police station.”
“I’m taking the day off to be with you,” he reminded her, and picked up her coat where she’d tossed it over the back of the couch. “Besides, it won’t take all day, will it?”
“No, probably no more than an hour, but—”
“So let’s get started.” He walked to her, then turned her around so that he could slip the coat slowly on one arm, then the other. Lowering his head, he sniffed at her neck. “Did you spray that stuff on for the felon, or for me?”
She shivered once before cautiously stepping away. “For me.” Picking up her briefcase, she held it between them like a shield. “I have to go by the office first. We already have a file on the guy. He’s been around.”
“Okay.” He tugged the briefcase away, took her hand. “Let’s go, Counselor.”
Alex spotted his sister the moment she walked into the station. Since he wasn’t any ha
ppier than she to be spending his Sunday morning at work, he immediately brightened. Giving Rachel a hard time always lifted his spirits.
Grinning, he strolled over, a greeting on his lips. When he spotted the man hovering around her, the humor in his eyes turned instantly to suspicion. “Rach.”
Still clipping her visitor’s badge to her lapel, she glanced up. “Alex. They got you, too, huh?”
“Looks like. Muldoon, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.” Zack returned the steady stare and nodded. “Nice to see you again, Officer.”
“Detective,” Alex corrected. “I didn’t hear anything about LeBeck being pulled in.”
“I’m not here about Nick.” Rachel recognized Alex’s unfriendly, aggressive stance. He’d assumed it with every boy and man she’d dated since she’d turned fifteen. “I’m representing Victor Lomez.”
“Now that’s real slime.” But Alex wasn’t nearly as concerned about Rachel’s client as he was with the reason the big Irishman was carrying her briefcase. “So, did you two run into each other outside?”
“No, Alexi.” Rachel commandeered the coffee he was carrying. Though she knew it was worthless, she shot him a warning glance. “Zack and I had plans for the day.”
“What kind of plans?”
“The kind that aren’t any of your business.” She kissed his cheek as an excuse to get close enough to his ear to whisper, “Knock it off.” Leaning back, she smiled at Zack. “Grab a seat, Muldoon, and some of this horrible coffee. Like I said, this shouldn’t take too long.”
“I got all day,” he told her as she walked off to a conference room. He turned back to Alex and said blandly, “So, you want to take me down to interrogation?”
Alex told himself he wasn’t particularly amused, and gestured with a jerk of his head. “In here’ll do.” It pleased him to be behind his desk while Zack sat in the chair used to grill witnesses. “What’s the story, Muldoon?”
Casually Zack took out a cigarette. He offered one to Alex and lit up when Alex shook his head. “You want to know what I’m doing with your sister.” He blew out a stream of smoke, considering. “If you’re any kind of detective, you should be able to figure that one out. She’s beautiful, she’s smart. She’s a soft heart in a tough, sexy shell.” Taking another drag, he watched Alex’s eyes narrow. “Listen, you want it straight, or do you want me to tell you I’m just interested in her legal services?”
“Watch your step.”
Because he understood the need to protect what he loved, Zack leaned forward. “Stanislaski, if you know Rachel, you know she’s been watching my step. Nobody, but nobody, pushes her into something she doesn’t want.”
“You figure you got her pegged?”
“Are you kidding?” Zack’s smile came quickly, and was friendly enough to make Alex’s shoulders relax. “There isn’t a man alive who really understands a woman. Especially a smart one.” When he saw Alex’s eyes shift over his shoulder, Zack glanced around. He saw a short, wiry, oily-skinned man being hauled toward the conference room by a uniformed cop. “Is that the one?”
“Yeah, that’s Lomez.”
Zack hissed smoke through his teeth and swore roundly. Alex could only agree.
At the conference table, Rachel looked up. Though she’d represented Lomez on his last count of assault, she was going over his file. “Well, Lomez, we meet again.”
“You took your sweet time getting here.” He dropped down in the seat and ignored the hovering cop. But he was sweating. Bungling the mugging meant he’d missed his connection. He hadn’t had a fix in fourteen hours. “You bring me a smoke this time?”
“No. Thank you, Officer.” Rachel waited until she was alone with her client, then folded her hands over his paperwork. “Well, you really pulled a prize this time out. The woman you attacked was sixty-three. I called the hospital this morning. You should be relieved to know they’ve bumped her condition up from critical to fair.”
Lomez shrugged, his small black eyes gleaming at Rachel. He couldn’t keep his hands still. He began to beat a tattoo on the table with his fingertips as he tapped his feet. His system was skidding to a much wilder rhythm. “Hey, if she’d handed over her purse like I told her, I wouldn’t have had to get rough, you know?”
God, he sickened her, Rachel thought, fighting to remember she was a public servant. And Lomez, however revolting, was the public. “Knifing a senior citizen isn’t going to win you the key to the city. It’s sure as hell going to buy you a lock. Damn it, Lomez, she had twelve dollars.”
His mouth was dry, and his skin was cold. “Then it wouldn’t have cost her a lot to hand it over. You just get me out. That’s your job.” And the minute he was back on the street, he’d pressure one of the other Hombres to score for him. “I had to sit in that stinking cell all night.”
“You’re charged with attempted murder,” Rachel said flatly.
Lomez tapped his damp hands against his thighs. Even his bones were screaming. “I didn’t kill the old bitch.”
Rachel wished she hadn’t finished the coffee. At least she could have used it to wash some of the disgust out of her mouth. “You stuck a knife in her, three times. The officer responding pursued you as you fled the scene—with the knife and the victim’s purse. They’ve got you cold, Lomez, and your priors aren’t going to make the judge think leniency. Your repertoire includes assault, assault and battery, breaking and entering and two counts of possession.”
“I don’t need a list. I need bail.”
“Odds are slim the DA’s going to agree to bail, and if he does, it’ll be well out of your range. Now I’m going to do what I can to get him to toss the attempted murder. You plead guilty to—”
“Guilty, my butt.”
“It’s going to be your butt,” she said evenly. “You’re not going to walk away from this one, Lomez. No matter how many rabbits I pull out of my hat, you’re not going to do short time this turn around. Plead guilty to assault with a deadly weapon, it’s likely I can swing the judge for seven to ten.”
Sweat popped cold on his brow, on his lips. “The hell with that.”
Because she was fast running out of patience, she slapped his file closed. “It won’t get any sweeter. You cooperate, and I should be able to keep you from spending the next twenty years in a cage.”
He screamed at her, then leaped across the table and struck before she had a chance to dodge. The backhanded blow knocked her out of her chair and onto the floor, where he fell on her. “You get me out!” He squeezed his hands on her throat, too wired even to feel her nails rake his wrist. “You bitch, you get me out or I’ll kill you!”
At first she could only see his face, the sick rage in it. Then it faded as red dots swam in front of her eyes. Choking, she struck out, smashing the heel of her hand against the bridge of his nose. His blood splattered over her, but his hands tightened.
A roaring filled her ears, buzzing over the wild curses he shouted at her. The red dots faded to gray as she bucked under him.
Then her windpipe was free and she was sucking air down her burning throat. Someone was calling her name, desperately, and she was being lifted, held tight. She thought she smelled the scent of the sea before she fell limply into it.
Cool fingers on her face. Wonderful. Strong hands clasped hard over hers. Comforting. A sigh before waking. Agony.
Rachel blinked her eyes open. Two faces were looming over hers, equally grim, with eyes that held both rage and fear. Woozily she lifted a hand to Zack’s cheek, then Alex’s. “I’m all right.” Her voice was husky, bruises already forming on her throat.
“Just lie still,” Alex murmured in Ukrainian, stroking her head with a hand that still throbbed from where it had connected with Lomez’s face. “Can you drink some water?”
She nodded. “I want to sit up.” As she focused on the room, she realized she was lying on the faded couch in the captain’s office. Murmuring her thanks to her brother, she sipped from the paper cup he held to
her lips. “Lomez?”
“In a cage, where he belongs.” Fighting off the tremors of reaction, Alex lowered his brow to hers. He continued to speak in Ukrainian, kissing her brow, her cheeks, then sitting back on his heels to hold her hand. “You just relax. An ambulance is on the way.”
“I don’t need an ambulance.” Reading the argument in his eyes, she shook her head. “I don’t.” She glanced down to see that her blouse was gaping open. It was ruined, of course, she thought in disgust. That and her suede skirt were spotted with blood. “His blood, not mine,” she pointed out.
“You broke his slimy low-life nose,” Alex snapped.
“I’m glad my self-defense class wasn’t wasted.” When he began to swear, she caught his hand. “Alexi,” she began, her voice low, intense. “Do you know what it is for me to accept that you risk your life every day, every night? Do you know I accept only because I love you so much?”
“Don’t turn this around on me,” he said furiously. “That bastard nearly killed you. He was so far gone it took three of us to drag him off.”
She didn’t want to think about that just yet. She couldn’t. “I played it wrong.”
“You—”
“I did,” she insisted. “But the point is, we can’t change what we are. I won’t change, not even for you. Now cancel the ambulance and do something for me.”
He called her a name, a rude one, in their native language. It made her smile. “I’m no more of a horse’s ass than you. I need to contact my office and explain. I won’t be able to represent Lomez under the circumstances.”
“Damn right you won’t.” It was small satisfaction, but he could hope for little more. Gently he touched his fingers to the bruise on her cheekbone. “He’s going down, Rachel. I’ll make damn sure he goes down for this, if nothing else. There’s nothing you or anyone else can do.”
“That’s for the courts to decide.” She got shakily to her feet. “And you will not call Mama and Papa.” When he said nothing, she lifted a brow. “If you do, I’ll have to tell them about your last undercover assignment. The one where you went through the second-story window.”