by Diana Duncan
Kate unbuckled her seat belt, clambered up and knelt on the seat facing backwards.
“What the hell are you doing? Strap in!”
“Photographic evidence.” She pointed her camera at the back windshield and the shutter whirred with rapid-fire shots.
“Sit, goddammit!” Liam yanked the wheel into an abrupt right. Downshifting, he sped across both lanes, ignored blaring horns behind him and swung a left.
“I’m not your dog.” Kate clung to the seat and clicked away. “It’s my life, my career in jeopardy. If I prove I’m being stalked, the FBI will leave me alone and go after him.”
He shifted into fourth and hit the gas. A hard right, then a left. Another mirror check. The Mustang had left the bulky SUV in a distant cloud of dust.
The Triumph was a bigger challenge. Liam had the edge in power, but Bad-ass Biker proved he had him beat-to-hell in maneuverability by careening down the sidewalk. As pedestrians fled, Liam calculated the seconds until a gap would appear in the flood of oncoming cars. “Plant your butt in the seat and snap your seatbelt! Now!”
His take-no-prisoners order had her scrambling to obey and he grinned. “Hang onto those sexy black lace panties you’re wearing.”
With Kate safely strapped in, Liam was in his element. He double stomped the brake and clutch, shifted and wrenched the wheel. Tires shrieking, the car skidded and whirled a one-eighty in the middle of the street. Kate yelped as Liam shifted again, swerved to avoid the sudden onslaught of vehicles rushing toward them, and slammed down the gas pedal.
The Triumph soared off the sidewalk into the street and spun to follow them. The bike wobbled, the rider corrected. A hair to the left and he’d have made it. But the motorcycle toppled. Spokes spinning, sparks flying, the Triumph dragged its passenger along the asphalt.
Liam burst into laughter as they roared in the opposite direction. “Pony: one, Biker Dude: road-rash.”
Murphy hopped onto the seat, thrust his nose in the air and chimed in with a hearty, “Roo, roo!” We kicked tail, partner!
“Holy hell!” Kate flung shiny strands of chestnut hair out of her eyes. “You’re both deranged.”
“Yep.” Liam chuckled. “We do demented for a living.”
She jerked down her crumpled hem, which had climbed her long, shapely thighs. Outgunning the AC, a heat flash backdrafted him.
She frowned. “You’re certainly good at it.”
He sent her a grin. “My pleasure.”
“That wasn’t an endorsement.” But her succulent mouth curved.
“We left the UNSUB sprawled in the street.”
She swiveled to glance out the back windshield. “Oh, look. And there’s my stomach.”
“Admit it, that was the wildest ride you’ve had in ...” He shot her a teasing smile. “Two-and-a-half years.”
“You’re a thrill a minute, Lucky Charmer.”
Liam called 911 dispatch to assist the downed cyclist and requested the local cops hold him for questioning. He side-eyed his ruffled passenger. “I’ll need names, occupations, and pertinent data of every guy you’ve dated or had personal contact with the past couple years.”
Dainty sable brows scrunched. “I’m not particularly comfortable giving you such sensitive information.”
“Even if one of them could be stalking you?”
Kate looked away from him, out the window. “Zilch.”
“Come again?”
“Zero. Nada. No dates since you and I ...”
“All right.” Why? But not the time. Definitely not the place. “Tell me everything about this stalker. Exactly when did it start? What do the notes say?”
He spent the rest of the drive debriefing Kate. Mentally filed every detail. Op priority: protect her 24/7. Which would hamper his ability to investigate. But one way or another, he would put the whack job away—or if necessary, put him down—and clear Kate.
As they strode through double glass doors at the hospital, Kate pointed at Murphy. “Animals are prohibited.”
“Officer Murphy is allowed to go anywhere I do.”
Rejecting Liam’s repeated reassurances about her safety, Kate refused to ride in an enclosed elevator with Murphy.
The dog rolled his eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh. I’m not even close to being snarly right now. Your female isn’t the brightest squeaky toy in the box.
Liam hiked up five flights of stairs behind her without objection. She might be skittish about big dogs, but she’d eventually fall for Murph. Women fawned over him like a favorite child. His partner’s loyal, loveable, goofball personality couldn’t fail to grow on Kate.
Outside room 514, a stacked blonde wearing an attention-grabbing tight fuchsia dress sobbed in the arms of an older woman who was conservatively attired in an elegant beige suit. “I can’t stand it!”
Kate sprinted down the corridor. “What happened?”
The gray-haired woman, whose features gave her away as Kate’s mother, patted the hysterical blonde. “Katherine.” Narrowed hazel eyes shot Kate a reprimand that could drill concrete. “You certainly took your time.”
Kate breathed a fatalistic sigh. “Unavoidable delay.”
“Bad enough that your father can never get away from the office.” Mrs. Chabeau arrowed another accusatory stare. “Your sister needs the entire family’s support. She’s upset.”
“So I gathered. Does she have cause to be?”
“You know Janine has always been fragile.” Mrs. Chabeau’s demeanor was so cold, Liam expected to see her breath frost the air. “Don’t snipe at her because you’re stronger and more capable.”
Kate’s voice remained carefully modulated. “I wasn’t—”
The blonde wailed louder. “She never understands what I’m going through! I can’t take this stress anymore!”
Kate visibly reined in her temper. “What’s going on? Where’s Daniel?”
Mrs. Chabeau stroked Janine’s hair. “He went to the cafeteria about an hour ago. He desperately needed coffee.”
Kate’s chest rose and fell in a trembling exhale. “It can’t be that serious, or he wouldn’t have left Aubrey.”
Mrs. Chabeau frowned. “If you’d been here, you could have gone for him, and he wouldn’t have been forced to leave that child. How thoughtless and irresponsible can you be?”
Annnd Liam’s best intentions to remain Switzerland danced the Hustle to Hell. He strode up to Drama Duo. “Kate’s had a stressful day herself.”
Mommy Dearest’s razor-edged stare tried to excise him out of the group. “Our family business is none of your affair, young man.”
Nice try, lady, but I grew up with a mom who could eat your lunch in three seconds flat.
Kate waved him back. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“The doctors threw us out of Aubrey’s room. They’re in there running more tests!” Janine shrieked. “They said my baby is going to die!”
“Shh!” Kate grabbed the half-open door and yanked it shut. “Mother, tell me exactly what the specialist said.”
Kate’s mother glanced down the hallway. “Here comes Daniel now.”
Kate whirled and pasted on a neutral face as a blond man sauntered toward them. But Liam knew her expressions, her body language.
Hey now. No love lost for Bro-in-Law.
New guy was around his height and sports club toned, short blond hair gelled to tousled perfection. Pale blue name brand polo, tailored charcoal slacks, and black designer loafers that cost more than a cop’s quarterly salary. Decent-sized shoulders were squared, eyes that matched his shirt cool, his walk an arrogant strut. Ultimate all-American boy. Even as Liam did a mental smirk, his intuition registered high-alert. Cocky frat brats were never as innocent as they appeared.
Kate waited for Daniel. “I’m trying to find out what’s happening with Aubrey. Maybe you can give me an answer.”
Winter-sky irises, bland with condescending boredom measured Liam. Didn’t miss a detail. Daniel’s glance flicked to Kate.
“Who’s this?”
“Daniel Tyler, Officer Liam O’Rourke.” Kate made an impatient gesture. “Um ... he ... He’s ...”
Liam extended his hand. “Security detail for the auction.”
Ignoring the offered hand, Daniel’s disdainful attention shifted to Murphy. “You rented an off-duty cop and his scruffy watchdog? I can arrange for top-of-the-line security experts through the company’s vetted resources. We can’t afford to go on the cheap.”
Liam silently counted to ten. In Gaelic. Murphy picked up on his edginess and curled his lips back. Liam felt like showing some fang himself. Rent-a-cop, my ass. He was gonna check out Frat Brat so thoroughly, he’d know his sperm count.
Kate sent Daniel a smile tight with saintly patience. “Officer O’Rourke and his partner are exceedingly qualified. Now, what is going on?”
Janine sniveled into her mother’s shoulder. “I can’t bear to hear it again. I need to go home, take a Valium and lie down.”
“Of course you do, sweetie.” Mrs. Chabeau visually harpooned Daniel. “We’ll be in the car. Don’t keep us waiting.”
Daniel nodded. “No, ma’am. I’ll be right there.”
Without a word to Kate, Mommy Dearest led Drama Llama down the hallway.
“Daniel, for God’s sake what’s up?” Kate looked like she wanted to scream, and Liam didn’t blame her. More than ever, he appreciated his family’s close-knit ties and unfailing support. This crew leached the “fun” out of dysfunctional.
Visible tension pulsated between Kate and her brother-in-law. Daniel grimaced. “Aubrey’s remaining kidney function is in decline and they had to do another dialysis this afternoon.”
She inhaled shakily, but sustained her calm façade. “The auction will be over in forty-eight hours and the transplant can happen the moment there’s a donor.”
“We’re depending on you.” Daniel rested his hand on Kate’s good arm and she shifted, breaking contact.
Liam’s hackles rose. She doesn’t like your fucking hands on her. He pinched the bridge of his nose. O-kay. Today was taking a battering ram to his easy-going rep.
“The auction must proceed without any problems,” Daniel said gravely. “Doctor Vallano said Aubrey has less time than we thought, and they’ve moved her to the top of the UNOS list. If we don’t have the money when donor becomes available, she’ll get bumped down.”
She blanched impossibly paler. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. There’s no alternative.”
“Thank goodness someone in the family is dependable. I’d better get Janine home before she has a complete meltdown. After the doctors are done with the tests, call me with any news.”
“Of course.”
“Good girl.” Daniel patted her shoulder. Obnoxious-in-law sneered dismissively at Liam before turning to leave. “And for God’s sake, call the company’s head of security and hire a real professional.”
Liam’s fists clenched, but he stepped back. If he put the ass-badger’s lights out, Ma would kick his ass up around his ears for punching a father outside a kiddo’s hospital room.
Kate reached for the doorknob. “I’ll see if they’re almost finished.” Liam followed, Murphy tagging behind. She whirled, color surging into her cheeks. “You stay here! I am not letting a vicious dog anywhere near that baby!”
He frowned. “Murphy isn’t vicious. A K-9 is trained to bite for only three reasons.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “To protect his handler if they’re under assault. At the handler’s command. To protect himself. Murph adores kids, he’d never hurt a child.”
Trembling, she crossed her arms over her chest. “He weighs, what, about ninety-pounds?”
“Eighty-eight.”
“If he went ballistic, you couldn’t stop him.”
Why the worst-case-scenario-thinking? “Murphy is better trained than any soldier. He won’t attack without provocation.”
Her stare was as ice-pick sharp as her mother’s. “Nobody knows for certain what will and won’t provoke him, do they? Or what he might interpret as an attack on you. I refuse to jeopardize Aubrey’s welfare!”
He gestured at the dog, who cocked his head and held up a paw. I think we got off on the wrong paw. Shake?
“Look. He wants to be your friend.”
She’d gone pale again. “With friends like that, who needs enemies? He stays out!”
Puzzled, Liam told his dog to sit across the hall. People were often intimidated by large dogs, especially K-9s. They were meant to intimidate. But Kate’s overreaction didn’t make sense. Unless—
He studied her self-protective stance. Body turned sideways, she appeared perilously close to falling apart. Her left arm was cradled defensively over her crippled hand and she hugged her purse to her chest as if expecting imminent assault.
Horrifying realization sank a sick, suffocating weight on his chest. Sweet Christ.
He clung to the shattered hope that he was wrong ... all the while knowing he wasn’t. “What type of dog attacked you, sweetheart?” he asked gently.
Shock jolted her features before she lowered her chin. “A Belgian Malinois.” Her voice was deathly quiet. “They look a lot like—”
Fuck me! “Like German Shepherds.” Heart aching, he moved closer and tugged her to him. She let him enfold her in his arms. “I wish you’d told me before.”
“Why? Would you have sent Murphy away?”
Not happening. Ever. Murphy was his partner. Faithful best friend who offered unconditional love and the quality he valued most ... steadfast loyalty. Murph had put his own life on the line for Liam more than once. Had unhesitatingly leapt between him and a bullet. “Murphy and I have to live together, or I can’t be a K-9 officer. Without him, especially as a bomb tech, I’d have to trust my life to another cop’s dog. Or a robot.”
He’d rather direct traffic for the rest of his career.
“I won’t compromise your safety, Kate. Murph and I are a team. We’re better, stronger, and more capable of protecting you together. But I would’ve kept more distance between you and him.”
She was still shaking, and he rubbed her back. “Can you tell me about it?”
“I went to Paris because I’d won a full scholarship at the École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts, the most prestigious art school in Europe.”
His gut clenched. God damn. She’d lost more than he ever imagined.
“The attack happened after I’d been there only a month.” Kate swallowed hard. “It was a beautiful spring day and I took my lunch to the park. The Malinois must’ve escaped his owner. He wasn’t leashed, and he ran past me, with four or five people running after him. They were yelling and trying to catch him. He got trapped in the corner of adjoining stone walls and started growling and snapping. An older woman was walking past with her cute little brown dog—who was on a leash—and little guy responded to the bigger animal’s aggression by barking and lunging at him.”
He grimaced. “Small dog syndrome.”
“Yeah. The Malinois just ... lost it. Savage growling, flashing fangs, and ... blood ... God. The panicked lady had let go of the leash and was screaming and so ... so was the tiny dog. Everybody was yelling, but nobody did anything. I didn’t stop to think. I jumped into the middle of the fight.”
As he massaged the back of her neck, some of her stiffness yielded to his touch. “Very brave.”
“Most people think it was stupid.”
“Too many people don’t understand the devotion between canines and humans.”
“I don’t remember much after that. Except pain.” Her voice got deathly quiet. “Four surgeries and a year of physical therapy later, my PT told me I’d have limited use of my hand and never regain my fine motor skills.” She inhaled a shuddery breath. “The older lady’s dog ... didn’t survive. You know, I would’ve accepted the consequences of my impulsive decision a whole lot easier if he’d made it. But I ... I failed that sweet little guy.”
Heart aching, he rested his cheek agains
t her silky hair, but found no comfort. Kate was wounded clear to her soul. An artist whose promising future had been killed along with the dog she’d tried to rescue. Did he honestly believe she could overcome the trauma and trust Murphy?
Trust was a fragile web. Once shredded, it didn’t mend easily. “You tried, though, when nobody else would. Words aren’t nearly enough, but I’m sorry.”
Lovely face icily remote, she drew back, putting space between them. “I should check on Aubrey.”
Their tenuous connection shriveled, froze over. Her fears were a barricade he couldn’t scale. A locked door he couldn’t batter down. Grief ambushed him. She was no longer Kate, his warm, vibrant butterfly, but remote, black-and-white Renée Allete. Haunted by her past and leery of the future.
And he’d thought having to work for a woman’s affection would be fun? Wanted a woman who’d challenge him?
Be careful what you wish for.
He looked at her too-pale complexion. “You’ve been under considerable strain. When did you eat last?”
“I don’t have time. After I see Aubrey, I need to finalize auction details.”
“Who worries about you, Kate? Who takes care of you?”
She raised her chin. “I take care of me.” Her defensive stance emphasized her vulnerability. Constricted his chest. “I’m an adult. I don’t need mommying.”
Good thing, because her mother seemed decidedly unconcerned about her welfare. “Do I look like a mommy to you?”
Her smile wobbled at the corners. “Big brother, then.”
“I don’t want to be your brother.” He gave her a long, appraising look. “Ever get lonely going it alone?”
“No.”
“Renée Allete’s photographs say differently.”
She gasped. Ducked her head. “Renée’s photos are compositions arranged to artfully contrast light and dark. No more.”
“What about ‘Man in the Shadows?’” The photo had immediately grabbed his attention. A silhouette of a man with his back to the camera, leaning in the first archway of a long row of darkened brick archways, staring out at the fog-shrouded Seine. Captured from a distance, in the middle of the night, the poignant black and white evoked a visceral image of stark loneliness.