Cavanaugh on Duty

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Make me,” she countered, curious to see just what he would do.

  Rather than pick her up and put her in the car the way she expected him to, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her. Kissed her with all the unbridled emotions that were running rampant through him, all the fear he had dealt with in those split seconds when he’d seen the deranged serial killer put his knife to her throat.

  Kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, only this moment, only now.

  She went from solid to liquid in under forty seconds, her insides vibrating like a well-struck tuning fork.

  When Esteban finally drew back, she all but collapsed into the car. Unable to stand, she definitely needed somewhere to sit.

  “You fight dirty,” she accused.

  “Only way I know how to fight,” he informed her.

  His answer made her smile. “This is going to be a very interesting partnership.”

  He spared her a long look before pulling away from the curb. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Which meant, she thought in sudden realization, that he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to stay in her life.

  * * *

  Esteban reached inside the door to his apartment and turned on the light, then stood back to allow her to enter first.

  Coming inside, Kari smiled. “It looks a lot better in the light. Dusty, but better.” She turned toward him. “I’m just curious, why did you bring me here?” she asked. “Why not to my place?”

  “Because mine’s closer and I’m a man of my word.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I said I’d take you to bed, remember?”

  Her mouth curved. “It was the only thing that kept me from running out of the E.R.”

  Esteban smiled at her bravado as he drew her into his arms. “That and the fact that they took your clothes.”

  Kari laughed. “If you think that stopped me from running out, then you don’t really know me at all.”

  “Maybe,” he allowed for the sake of argument. “But I plan to.”

  The next moment, he covered her lips with his own.

  The kiss was long and deep and did a great deal to blot out everything else that had happened in the past twelve hours.

  She sighed as she felt Estaban draw back for a moment. “More please,” Kari murmured.

  “As you wish.”

  But instead of kissing her again, Kari felt herself being lifted up off the floor and into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, surprised.

  “Guess.”

  The wicked look in his eyes made guessing completely unnecessary. Kari knew exactly what he was going to do. And she couldn’t wait for it to happen.

  It was a good long, steamy hour and a half before any more words were exchanged between them.

  Lying next to Esteban in his rumpled bed—a bed that had already been rumpled before they ever started making love—Kari turned her body into his and said, “I think you might just have stumbled across a new way of treating wounds.”

  He did his best to look serious, but failed. The desire to grin was just too overpowering. “Good to know—for the next time.”

  The next time.

  She clung to that for a moment, savoring what it could—and should—mean before making herself ask, “Does that mean you’ve decided to stay on as my partner?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” he replied softly—and then his grin gave him away. Shifting so that his body curved into hers, Esteban grew a little more serious. “I don’t know what it is about you, but for all your annoying little traits, you still made me think that maybe there’s some hope left for this world.”

  Pleased beyond words at this change in him, for the sake of the game they were playing, Kari pretended to take offense. “What annoying little traits?”

  “We’ll review them some other time. Right now, I’m more interested in going over your redeeming ones—the ones that redeemed me,” he added quietly.

  That touched her heart more than she could possibly ever express. “Esteban? You think that the next time you go to see Miguel, I can come along?”

  He realized that he’d like that, that he wanted his stepfather to meet this woman. But he still needed to know why she’d want to come with him.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to meet the man who had a hand in making you the person you are today.”

  He felt his heart swell and cautioned himself to take it one step at a time. These emotions were new and he needed to work up his trust.

  His bid for nonchalance failed, though, as he said, “Sure, why not?”

  Still trying to be cool, she couldn’t help thinking fondly. Esteban’s answer made her smile. “You know I see great things for this partnership.”

  Just before he kissed her again, he said, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Kari would have grinned if she were able, but seeing as how her lips were definitely otherwise occupied, she didn’t.

  There was time enough for grinning later.

  Epilogue

  It was another Cavanaugh wedding.

  This time it was Kari’s sister, Kendra, marrying Matthew Callaghan, the detective whose mother had married Kari and Kendra’s father last month.

  This, Esteban had said to Kari when she told him about the upcoming nuptials, put a whole new emphasis on the term family ties.

  But another Cavanaugh wedding meant another pulling-out-all-the-stops celebration. And this time Esteban found himself really looking forward to attending rather than feeling it was just something he was forced to put up with.

  “So, Detective Fernandez, are you enjoying yourself?” Kari asked after extricating Esteban from a small group of men comprised of two of her brothers as well as a couple of her cousins, one of whom was also Brenda’s husband, Dax.

  Esteban looked at her appreciatively. The floor-length light blue gown she had on adhered to every curve and made him think of one of the goddesses straight out of Greek mythology. He couldn’t recall ever thinking of a bridesmaid’s dress as being sexy. But that was the word for this one.

  And for her.

  “I am now,” he confided.

  “Good,” she said, taking him by the hand and drawing him onto the dance floor that had once more made its appearance in Andrew Cavanaugh’s spacious backyard. “Then dance with me.”

  “Are bridesmaids allowed to dance with civilians?” Esteban murmured, taking her into his arms and swaying to the music. “Aren’t you supposed to be dancing with one of the guys standing up for your brother?” he asked. “The guy they paired you up with?”

  He’d been surprised just how much it actually bothered him, seeing her walking down the flower-strewn aisle with another man at her side. It had set him thinking.

  “Groomsmen,” she supplied the term for him. “They’re called groomsmen.”

  “Yeah, those guys.” He deliberately pretended to play dumb, slowly leading up to his point. “Aren’t you just supposed to be dancing with one of them?”

  She laughed, wondering if he was actually serious. But then, she gathered that there hadn’t exactly been many weddings in his world before he’d become her partner. Only funerals.

  She winked at him. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  “I don’t want you breaking any rules on my account,” he told her with a perfectly unreadable expression.

  “That wouldn’t be because you don’t want to dance now, would it?” she asked him. Because, reluctant or not, the man was really a wonderful dancer. He had natural rhythm—unlike a couple of her brothers.

  “Not want to dance?” he repeated incredulously. “What red-blooded American male wouldn’t jump at the chance to have an excuse for putting h
is hands on you in public?”

  Kari laughed and shook her head. “Ever the gentleman.”

  “That’s me,” he agreed, loving the way they moved together.

  “You didn’t really answer me before—are you enjoying yourself?” she asked him again. “At my father’s wedding, you told me after it was over that you’d had a good time.” She’d caught him looking strangely introspective a couple of times during the ceremony. “Is this one not measuring up?”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” he assured her. “It just made me think.”

  Was this going to be bad? Was he going to tell her that he’d decided he needed to be alone, to move on, maybe go somewhere else...away from painful reminders of his past? “About what?”

  “About what I’d want if this was my wedding.”

  Stunned, she could only stare at him. Finally finding her tongue again, she heard herself ask, “And what would you want if this was your wedding?”

  He looked into her eyes and said quietly, “Something more intimate.”

  She tried to read between the lines. Were there lines to read between? She didn’t really know. “You mean less people,” she guessed.

  He nodded. “I think an intimate group of, say, ninety to a hundred would be my limit. Give or take,” he added with a hint of a smile beginning to curve the corners of his mouth.

  Exactly what was he trying to say? “That doesn’t sound very intimate. That sounds like—”

  “Your family?” he asked, the smile blossoming completely.

  “Well, yes.” He wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying—was he? Men like Esteban ran from things like that, didn’t they? “About this wedding...” She wasn’t sure just how to proceed.

  He twirled her around the floor, never taking his eyes off her face. “Go on.”

  She drew her courage to her, hoping she didn’t sound like a babbling fool in the process. “Is it something that might be happening anytime, you know, like soon?”

  He inclined his head, as if he was thinking. “Well, that all depends.”

  She could feel her breath backing up in her throat, all the while telling herself not to get too carried away. If she was wrong, the fall back to reality would be excruciatingly painful.

  “On what?” she breathed.

  “On when you’ll say yes.”

  Her heart was pounding so hard, it made it difficult for her to talk. “When, not if?”

  Esteban looked at her for a long moment. “You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?”

  Oh, God, no, she didn’t want him changing his mind. “Not beg, but it would be nice to hear a few words.”

  And he knew which few she was referring to. “You want me to tell you I love you.”

  That made it sound forced, she thought with dismay. “Well, only if you do...” she qualified.

  He shook his head. Did that mean he didn’t love her? She felt an icy chill slide down her back.

  “I thought you were a good detective.”

  He had officially lost her. “What does that have to do with it?”

  Finding her insecurity adorable, Esteban laid it all out for her. “A good detective would have already realized just how much I love her.”

  Relief took on the proportions of a tidal wave as it washed over her. It took her a moment to catch her breath and then she urged him, “Tell me anyway.”

  “Kari Cavelli-Cavanaugh, I love you and I want you to add my name to that long parade of last names you already have.” Still swaying with her, he paused and laughed. “And I think we should stop dancing.” He nodded toward the band. “The music’s stopped.”

  “No it hasn’t,” Kari contradicted as she continued dancing to the music in her heart. “And yes.”

  “Yes?” he questioned. He wanted to be perfectly clear what she was saying yes to.

  “Yes,” she repeated. Laughter filled her throat. “In answer to your first question. Yes, I will marry you. And in case there’s any doubt, yes, I love you.” Her eyes were shimmering with tears of joy and she grinned up at him.

  “What?” he asked, sensing there was something more.

  “Uncle Andrew is going to be on cloud nine when we tell him.” Three weddings in three months would make the former chief of police a truly happy man.

  In case she had any thoughts of running off to find the man now, Esteban held her tightly in his arms.

  “‘Uncle’ Andrew can wait to find out later,” he told her, just before lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her in the middle of the now empty dance floor.

  Uncle Andrew, Kari thought as she encircled her arms around Esteban’s neck, undoubtedly already knew.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerot from Cowboy with a Cause by Carla Cassidy.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romantic Suspense title.

  You want sparks to fly! Harlequin Romantic Suspense stories deliver, with strong and adventurous women, brave and powerful men and the life-and-death situations that bring them together.

  Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Romantic Suspense every month!

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

  We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com

  Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Chapter 1

  Adam Benson sat in his pickup truck parked at the curb and stared at the two-story house out his passenger-side window. It was a nice place, painted pale beige with rust-colored trim. A large tree in the front yard sported all the colors of autumn, with bright red and orange leaves beginning to group at the base.

  The Room for Rent sign had been in the front window for a couple of months, and for the past few weeks each time Adam drove by the place, he’d considered the possibility of checking it out.

  Shoving a hand into the pocket of his lightweight black jacket, he found the two small plastic chips inside and rubbed them together as he considered his next move.

  There was no question that he was in transition. With two months of sobriety behind him and a ranch that no longer felt like his home, he knew it was time to make some significant changes in his life.

  With a new decisiveness, he opened the truck door and got out. Great location, he told himself as he looked down Main Street. This house was one of the last on the block that hadn’t been sold and torn down to make room for commercial property. From here he could easily walk the main drag of the small town of Grady Gulch.

  He turned back to look at the house. The place had belonged to Olive Brooks for as long as he could remember. The older woman had been a fixture in town, working at the post office and involved in every charity event. Then about a year ago she’d become ill with cancer and her only daughter had come to town from someplace back east to nurse her. Olive had passed away and her daughter had remained in the house.

  It was a little strange. Nobody around town that Adam had spoken to seemed to have seen Melanie Brooks since her mother’s death, although he’d heard a few unpleasant rumors about her.

  He jingled his sobriety chips once again. He knew personally about gossip and ugly rumors. In the past year he and his family had experienced enough of both to last a lifetime.

  He finally sighed, irritated with his own hesitation. “Doesn’t hurt to check it out,” he muttered under his breath as he headed toward the front porch.

  Next door to the house the pizza place was in full lunch swing, the scents of robust sauce and spicy sausage filling the air. Adam’s stomach rumbled, and he decided that after checking out the room
for rent, he’d head to the Cowboy Café for lunch. Although the pizza smelled great, at noon the place was usually overrun by high school kids grabbing a slice of pizza before their afternoon classes began.

  Besides, the Cowboy Café was the place in town to get a hearty meal and a healthy serving of what people were saying and thinking. In the past couple of months it had felt more like home than the ranch where he’d grown up.

  As he walked up the stairs to the porch, he noticed that the railing was more than a little wobbly and needed to be replaced. Up close the house paint wasn’t quite as fresh as it appeared from the street. A little TLC was definitely needed, he thought, not that it was his problem. That was one of the luxuries of not owning where you lived: you weren’t responsible for any of the maintenance.

  He knocked on the door, and as he waited for a reply, he turned and looked back at the street where his truck was parked. Within an hour everyone in town would know that he’d been here. That was the way things worked in small towns like Grady Gulch. There were few secrets that could be sustained for any length of time.

  However, there was one person in town who was keeping a dark, evil secret, a person who had murdered two women in their beds. So far law enforcement and everyone else had no idea who that killer might be and if or when he might strike again. The murders of two women who had worked as waitresses at the popular café had definitely put a gray pall over the town.

  He shoved this disturbing thought aside and knocked again, this time hearing a woman’s voice respond for him to hang on. The door finally opened and he got his first look at Melanie Brooks.

  Stunning. She was absolutely stunning, with pale blond hair that fell to her shoulders in soft waves and eyes that were bluer than any he’d ever seen before. She was slender and wore a pair of black slacks, a black blouse and an irritated scowl that looked permanently etched onto her face. He couldn’t discern how tall she might be as she sat in a wheelchair.

  Adam swept his cowboy hat from his head, quickly raked his fingers through his dark hair and hoped his shock at her condition didn’t show on his face. “Good afternoon. I’m Adam Benson and I’m here about the room for rent.”