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Within His Embrace

Heart of Justice

Denise Agnew

Published 2009

ISBN 978-1-59578-624-1

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2009, Denise Agnew. All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

Email:

raven@LSbooks.com

Editor

Terri Schaefer

Cover Artist

April Martinez

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of

the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

With her job gone and her carefully crafted life plan wrecked, Leigh Strong decides

to take a short vacation from reality before she has to face putting it all back together
again. A wild shootout puts her in the sight of SWAT cop Craig MacGilvary, the man she
is fiercely drawn to, but that drives her crazy at the same time. She finds his stern, strong
and silent personality a tad too uptight and decides he needs to live a little. She’s

Chapter One

“Shots fired. One civilian down. Black Firebird leaving the scene,” the dispatcher for

the El Torro County Sheriff’s Department relayed over the squad car radio.

Sergeant Craig MacGilvary drove through Gold Rush, Colorado, noting of the

address and license number of the perp as he did.

Even though city police had jurisdiction, Craig could cut the shooter off if he headed

in his direction.

His blood pumped as he pulled a u-turn and neared the area, lights flashing and siren

blaring. More radio chatter filled the air, city police responding to the incident.

“Suspect is former boyfriend to The Bridal Boutique owner Delilah Willow,” the

dispatcher said and Craig’s veins froze at the mention of the shop name. “Suspect just
shot her new boyfriend and is heading toward the owner’s shop to destroy her property.”

Jesus. What the hell is it with this town and jealous boyfriends?
Then his heart froze. Leigh. She might still be at the shop.
Damn it!
He swallowed hard, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. If that fucker in the Firebird

goes anywhere near Leigh—if that dirtball hurts one hair on her beautiful, golden head—
I’ll kill the bastard.

Craig pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

* * * *

Leigh Strong closed the door on The Bridal Boutique for the last time. Since Delilah

had decided a month ago she couldn’t make a go of the shop, Leigh’d had plenty of time
to select a new future.

She’d procrastinated big time.
What am I going to do?
Hell, I don’t know. Now I’ll have a crap load of time to think.
She’d already traveled the world, so that was out.
She flicked open the top two buttons on her fire-engine-red silk blouse and fussed

with her blazer lapels. She wished she’d gone without pantyhose because this pair itched,
and the black business suit skirt felt too confining as it cupped her butt in stretchy
material.

Guaranteed to stretch with you in comfort, the catalog advertisement had promised.
Yeah. Right. I feel like a damn sausage.
“No more suits for a while.” She sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I need. Freedom.”
She could blame her baking-in-the-oven-like-a-piece-of-meat feeling on the weather.

May in Colorado had turned unusually warm, but clouds gathered on the horizon with the
promise of rain. Lightning jumped across the sky in the far-distant horizon.

She glared at the glass door, the closed sign, and the finality, then turned away with a

sardonic smile and the determination to become a wedding planner again soon.

She’d parked too far away on the street, damn it. The silence on this small corner of

the business district felt strangely disquieting, as if Halloween was just around the corner

rather than signs of spring. Bah humbug anyway.

Too early for Christmas discontent and way too late to complain about Valentine’s

Day.

Get over it.
She smiled, because she’d heard more than once that pretending you felt good could

lead to actual sensations of happiness. Her thoughts scattered to her friend Celeste’s
wedding less than a month away. The big event would be perfect…or else. She wouldn’t
let her best friend down. She slung her handbag over her shoulder and headed down the
sidewalk.

Envy spiked through her as she walked. Celeste’s fiancé, Mick MacGilvary, was a

gorgeous sheriff’s deputy and an on-call SWAT officer. Anyone could see that Mick
loved Celeste down to his core. What would it feel like to know a man cherished you like
that? She couldn’t imagine.

Not that Leigh wanted to marry. At least not anytime soon. More than one

acquaintance had paraded eligible bachelors in front of her, but not one of the guys turned
her on mentally or physically. As she’d once heard an old woman say, they were all
milquetoast.

Mick had two hot brothers also on the sheriff’s department and in SWAT, but neither

one would do. Trey had married Olivia Scott last year. And Craig…well, Craig was so
not the kind of guy she needed.

Uptight.
Cold.
He probably didn’t have a sexual bone in his body.
Besides, there was a mutual dislike between them.
Yeah, that pretty much put a damper on any chance of a hook up with a hot cop. Not

that she’d do such a thing anyway. Her past pretty much precluded anything serious.
Hell, anything not serious, either.

She heard the roar of a muscle car somewhere down the street and ignored it. The

engine revved like a drag racing machine, and then she heard a strange pop so loud she
jumped, startled.

A sharp sting slashed across her upper right shoulder, and she clapped a hand over

the area, shocked. What the—

She swung toward the road, searching.
A black Firebird screeched to a halt along the sidewalk.
A city police car came to a screaming stop right behind it.
The Firebird driver aimed out the window at the cruiser behind him and fired. One of

the shop windows shattered. Screams split the air as people across the street scrambled
for cover.

She dove into an alley and plastered her back against the wall. Her heart banged

frantically in her chest, sweat breaking out as fear jolted like lightning through her. What
the hell—?

Pain stung her arm, and she saw red spreading over the upper arm of her blouse. Oh,

God. Am I shot? Instinctively she clamped her hand over the wound again.

The Firebird engine roared and the muscle car’s tires squealed as the driver tore

away from the sidewalk.

The city police car followed, tires burning rubber. Stunned into immobility, she

stood unmoving against the wall. Sirens blared as another law enforcement car whizzed
by. Breathing hard, she dared a peek around the corner. Patrons from other stores spilled
out of the doors, curiosity getting the better of them.

A sheriff’s department car zoomed to the sidewalk, and the deputy jumped out with

pistol drawn as he looked around.

Craig MacGilvary.
Relief flooded her.
He saw her a second later and ran in her direction. “Leigh?”
She edged out of the alley, but not far, half expecting more shots to come from

nowhere.

Craig holstered his weapon as he reached her. “Are you all right?”
“A MacGilvary to the rescue,” she said, her voice raspy. “What the hell is going on

here?”

His gaze caught on her shoulder, and his normally glacial green eyes turned

incinerator hot, blazing with concern. “You’re hurt. Christ.” His deep voice went husky.
Before she could answer, he reached for her arm and tore the sleeve practically off her
arm. His mouth tightened. “Damn it.”

Unexpected dizziness made her unsteady on her feet, her breath coming hard. “Oh.”
“Come on, there’s a first aid kit in my car.”
He clasped her forearm gently and led her toward his cruiser, all the while using his

shoulder radio to report his status and the need for an ambulance.

“I don’t need an ambulance.” She managed a caustic smile, still unable to believe

what had happened. “What do they say in the movies? It’s a flesh wound. It doesn’t even
hurt much.”

“You’ve been shot. You need medical attention.”
She didn’t know what to say, because the concept that some jerk had shot at her

didn’t penetrate. “I just felt this little sting and then this jackass in a Firebird tears by.”

As Craig tended to her wound, she noticed the gathering crowd. She peppered Craig

with questions. “What is going on? Why did that jackass shoot at me? Have I made
enemies I don’t know about?”

He explained about Delilah’s old boyfriend having a grudge and shooting her new

boyfriend near Delilah’s house. “That’s all I know.”

“Oh, God. I should call her. She’s all right isn’t she?”
“Don’t know. Hold still while I finish this and then you can call her.”
Backup came in the form of a city police cruiser with two cops. Craig relayed what

happened at the scene while the city officers asked her questions and took her report.

“How did you happen to be so close?” she asked Craig when the police started taping

off the area.

Craig stared at her with his trademark intense look. A little over six feet tall, he

commanded respect. His military-short golden blond hair receded a bit at the hairline.
With a nicely cut nose, firm jaw line, and looks too rough-hewn to qualify as handsome,
Craig possessed a masculinity that screamed don’t mess with me loud and clear. His wide
shoulders, muscled arms, and trim waist made the short-sleeved brown uniform look as if
it was tailor made for him.

He shrugged, hands on hips and firm cop face in place. “I was headed through town

and heard the call.” For a split second his expression softened, his eyes meeting hers with

a clear, unguarded sincerity. For a fleeting moment his professional exterior disappeared
and she thought she saw real panic on his face. “When I thought you might be in danger
I—” He cleared his throat and his composure returned. “I happened to be nearby.”

Amazement blossomed inside her. He spent most of their infrequent social

encounters making sure he could escape as soon as possible. He always seemed to be
running away. The fact that he’d run toward danger for her blew Leigh away.

Nah. Craig MacGilvary barely stands the sight of me. He was doing his job, nothing

more. He would have done the same for anyone. What’s the motto? To protect and serve?
He’s seen many people injured and shot. I must have imagined it.

“Well, thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.
Not that she had much more of a chance, because the ambulance drove up. Though

she felt like a dweeb, she allowed the paramedics to check her out. She half expected
Craig to disappear, but like a sentinel he hovered, disapproving and glowering, in the
background but not far away.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked the female paramedic as she checked Craig’s handy

work first aid.

“Good work, MacGilvary. She’s fine. We’ll take her to the hospital and see if this

needs stitches.”

Her stomach tossed. “Stitches? Ugh.”
The female paramedic threw a grin at her partner. “Squeamish?”
Leigh grinned, and when she included Craig in that smile, he returned her look with

his trademark coolness. Leigh cleared her throat. “Couldn’t I just drive myself? I mean, I
don’t think I need an ambulance.”

“I’ll take her,” Craig said.
Leigh’s eyes widened in astonishment. “What? Don’t you have other things you need

to do here?”

“No. You can’t drive with that arm, and if you aren’t taking the ambulance, I can

drop you at the hospital. It’s on my way out of town.”

“Fine by us,” the male paramedic said as they began to close up the ambulance.
“Saves on a medical bill.” Leigh kept the smile, determined to keep this incident

light. Craig didn’t return the smile.

Fine. Be that way.
Before long they’d left the area in his cruiser. She’d never ridden in a cop car before

either in the back or the front. The plethora of gadgets caught her curiosity.

She made a call to Delilah’s cell and discovered she’d also gone to the hospital to be

with her boyfriend. Turned out Delilah’s ex had appeared with no warning. Her current
boyfriend had suffered a gunshot wound to his leg, but the injury proved to be minor.
After signing off, Leigh heard Craig’s radio squawk that Delilah’s ex had taken a header
in his Firebird straight into a gas station gas tank and blown up.

“Oh, my God,” Leigh whispered, her throat aching. She shivered. Nothing in all her

experiences had prepared her for this, and that was saying a lot.

Craig switched off the cool air intake, and glanced her way. “You feeling all right?

How’s the arm?”

“It aches a little. It’s not bad.”
“You’re shivering.” He made it sound like a crime.
She glared, emotions starting to churn inside her without an anchor. “Doesn’t help

when you have the air conditioner on.”

She heard the snark in her voice and winced. What was it about this man that brought

out the worst in her?

“It’s off now.”
Equal coolness in his voice cemented that she’d stepped in it. She sighed. “Look, I’m

sorry. This is all surreal. I can’t believe this town. I moved here four years ago and in the
last year and a half I’ve had a rock tossed through the window at me, witnessed my best
friend being taken hostage by her ex-boyfriend, and now I happen to be in the wrong
place at the wrong time when some weirdo pops his cork. I mean…come on.”

Craig’s mouth twitched. Was that an attempt at a smile? Mr. Never-Smile-And-You-

Couldn’t-Make-Me? Still, he said nothing.

He’s maddening. “Wait. Is that a little beginning of a grin? Craig ‘Viking’

MacGilvary smiling? Stop the presses.”

He tossed her an annoyed look. She was right, though. Until she’d gotten mixed up

with the MacGilvary clan her world had stayed pretty stable. After she’d left behind her
family in California and became reacquainted with her old college friend Delilah, Leigh’s
world had remained calm. Uneventful for a change. Then she’d become friends with
Celeste. Celeste had turned to Mick for protection when her ex turned out to be a
psychopathic stalker. At one point the ex had tossed a rock through Celeste’s window and
it hit Leigh. That’s when she’d met Craig for the first time.

The man had plagued her ever since.
Electricity had sparked, but his arrogance and cool detachment had turned her off.
Sort of.
“You could have been killed, Leigh.” Craig’s voice broke through her musings.
The softness in his voice surprised her, but his face stayed impassive, his gaze firmly

on the road.

“Yeah, but chilly reality isn’t much fun. I’d rather block that concept all together.”
Another half twitch at the corner his mouth. Her gaze lingered on those firm lips, and

a wild, inappropriate excitement zinged straight into her belly. The few times she’d seen
him smile, the effect had proven devastating. So what if from the first time she’d met him
more than a year ago, her body had instantly reacted to his masculinity, screaming a
resounding, “oh baby do me”?

That’s what confused the hell out of her. What was it about him? Finding him

sexy—scratch that—hot as hell—made her crazy. Maybe what the scientists said about
chemistry was true. Still, she couldn’t blame it on his aftershave. The few times she’d
been close enough to him all she smelled was clean man. No heavy scent that repulsed
her, no wildly exotic cologne.

She sighed. Maybe she just needed sex, period. She’d find some other exciting guy

to bed and then—

Not likely.
She didn’t do casual sex either. Though maybe she should consider it. Anything to

banish this nutty response to a man who often looked as if he was carved out of stone.

She schooled her libido into submission. Remember. He’s too much like Chad.

Perhaps that resemblance explained her attraction to Craig.

Chad the cad. Oh, not that Craig was a dishonest piece of scum like her former

boyfriend, but his looks reminded her too much of Chad. His ‘tude even resembled the

filthy rich scumbucket she’d loved and lost.

Resentment boiled up. God, Leigh. Now is not the time to rehash old baggage. I am

so over that bastard.

She moved her arm too quickly, and a sting lashed deep. She hissed in a breath.
Craig threw her another look of genuine concern. “All right?”
“Peachy.”
He grunted, his expression doubtful. “Do you feel nauseated? Shaky?”
She frowned. “What? No. Why?”
“You might be going into shock.”
“With a small wound like this? I hardly think so.”
“Sometimes mental shock is enough to create a physical reaction.”
He flipped on his lights and siren and the cruiser surged forward.
Ooookay. Bemused, she settled back as he made quicker time to the hospital. Hmm.

Not only could she ignore the fact she’d been shot, she could take the challenge of
unraveling Craig MacGilvary’s legendary composure. Delicious. And too much fun not to
engage completely in.

“Gee, this is fun,” she said. “But I wish you would have let me turn on the lights and

siren.”

He tossed her an incredulous look, and then a genuine, full smile spread across his

mouth and sucked every last breath out of her lungs. Once more that smile disappeared in
a flash.

Everything girly inside her sat up and took notice. Her body tingled in places she

didn’t even know could tingle.

“You’re…” He started to say.
She arched one eyebrow. “Yes?”
“You’re pretty damn cheeky for a woman that almost got her ass shot off being in

the wrong place and the wrong time.”

She shrugged and then regretted it as her shoulder ached. “I deal with drama by

ignoring it.”

Running away from it, a little voice said in her ear.
“You’re tough.”
“As shoe leather, I’m told.”
The hospital came into view, and he navigated traffic with perfect skill as he swung

into the emergency entrance and came to a halt. “Wait here.”

“But—”
He left the car before she could squeak, and short minutes later came back with a

nurse and a wheelchair. Amused, she acquiesced and they wheeled her inside. The nurse
shooed Craig away as they rolled Leigh down the hallway. Leigh caught one last glimpse
of him as he stood in the hallway watching her.

Chapter Two

Leigh watched Celeste slip into her wedding gown for a fitting the day after the

shooting and felt a peculiar envy she didn’t understand.

God forbid. I don’t want to get married any time soon—if ever.
As afternoon sunlight slanted into Celeste and Mick’s bedroom, Leigh thought she

maybe envied her friend’s happiness, regardless of where she obtained it. She’d
witnessed Celeste falling crazy in love with Mick MacGilvary, and yet it had taken a
desperate hostage situation for Leigh to realize how much the pair meant to each other.
Leigh had thought their “infatuation” might run its course, but as time went on Leigh had
acknowledged the error in her thinking. She’d never allowed her cynicism to show even
while it had churned in her mind and heart. Leigh had admitted to herself that genuine
love could find two fortunate people.

Just not me.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Celeste said as Leigh zipped the back of Celeste’s

wedding dress. “When Mick called to let me know what happened to you…my heart
about sank into my stomach. You should have let me come over last night.”

“Thanks, but I was in such a rotten mood you wouldn’t have liked being around me.”
Leigh had left the hospital after a short examination from a doctor, who confirmed

her wound wasn’t serious. Barely a scratch in terms of bullet wounds. What hacked her
off was the disappointment she’d felt when she realized Craig hadn’t waited to take her
home. Irrational as hell, but…well…there you have it.

As she’d left the exam room, a nurse had told her Craig had been called away and

another deputy had taken his place.

Celeste turned to the side and surveyed her dress in the full-length mirror on the

bedroom door. “So this other deputy was cute?”

Leigh smiled. “Gorgeous, actually.”
Celeste turned around, her smile generous. “Really? What’s his name?”
“Ian, I think. He’s over six feet and muscular. Lean muscle.” She waggled her

eyebrows. “Move over Hugh Jackman.” She grinned. “Dark hair. Sort of savage looking.
Looks brutal. Dangerous. He probably scares the crap out of criminals.” Leigh laughed.
“Does Gold Rush grow unusually good-looking cops or what? It’s uncanny.”

Celeste turned to examine the other side of her dress. “When I moved here, I

wondered the same thing.”

“Right. You were too busy falling in love with Mick. You came to this town wanting

him.”

Celeste’s blush told the truth. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know a gorgeous man

when I see one. Wait.” She snapped her fingers. “Ian Duffy?”

“That’s his name.”
“He’s on SWAT, too. He’s been on the team a long time.”
Leigh grunted. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not dating a cop.”
Celeste smiled and shrugged. “Well, it isn’t easy to date any cop much less a SWAT

officer. But there are plenty of other guys you could date.”

Leigh groaned. “I’m not in the market, remember?”

Celeste snorted. “You will be if you run into the right guy.” She turned from side to

side again and looked into the mirror. “The dress doesn’t look quite right.”

Leigh sat on the bed, eyeballing the cream white satin with an expert eye. “You’ve

lost more weight haven’t you?”

Celeste touched the sweetheart neckline and Basque waist and sighed. “I wasn’t

trying to. I’ve lost six pounds.”

Leigh matched her friend’s sigh. “Well, at least we can take in the dress. This is an

easier fix than weight gain. I remember when I lost—” Leigh choked off.

Celeste’s head came up in a snap. Leigh cringed. Way to go. Almost let that out of

the bag.

Of course, being a discerning friend, Celeste wouldn’t let it go. “When you lost

weight?”

“My prom dress—senior year. I thought I was too chunky. I was maybe ten pounds

overweight. I went on a radical diet and dropped close to fifteen pounds. Then the dress
really didn’t fit. My mother had a cow and dragged me to a seamstress who fixed it.”

Celeste stayed parked in front of the mirror, eyes concerned. “Were you anorexic? I

can’t imagine you being fifteen pounds lighter.”

Admitting to anorexia came too close to the truth, but it might be easier than what

she’d almost revealed. “Not quite. I figured out I was getting crazy with the weight loss
and stopped.”

“Thank goodness.” Celeste turned her back to Leigh. “Unzip me, will you? Do you

think I should wait a week or two more to have the dress altered?”

Leigh stood and helped her friend out of the exquisite dress purchased at The Bridal

Boutique months ago. “Let’s take it over to Dana’s for alteration. Just don’t lose any
more weight, or I’ll have to strangle you.” Concern spiked inside Leigh. “Wait a minute.
You aren’t dieting, right?”

Celeste smiled. “What? No. I’ve just been preoccupied with the wedding and work

and sometimes my appetite just disappears. I tend to eat less.”

“Uh-huh. Well eat more. We can’t have you getting sick before the wedding.”
Celeste rolled her eyes. “Yes, mother hen.”
All the way to the seamstress’s house, Leigh chastised herself for almost confessing

the whole enchilada to Celeste. She didn’t want to rehash such horrible memories.

As it turned out, the seamstress said the dress only needed a tiny take in, and

promised to have it done in a couple of days.

Later that night, as Leigh fell asleep, she slipped into an extraordinary and steamy

dream.

She lay on a soft, cushiony bed, the dim light barely revealing the big muscular

frame of a man propped over her. His mouth teased her earlobe, and she writhed in
excitement as his lips slid over her collarbone. She clutched at his shoulders, loving the
feeling of solid, powerful muscles. Her body tingled, heated, a moist and aching desire
blossoming between her legs. Excitement made her writhe as his mouth closed tenderly,
hotly over her left nipple.

Oh. My. God.
She clutched at his head, feeling the silky strands caress her fingers, the military

short blond—

She jerked out of sleep, her heartbeat banging, her breath coming fast as her body

longed for completion.

She flopped back onto the pillows. “God. What a dream. Wow.”
Who was the hot guy in her dream? She would be so lucky to find a man that

delicious, that sexy. She searched the dream for a clue.

Ian?
Nah. He has dark hair.
Blond—
Holy crap.
“No frickin’ way.” She clapped a hand to her forehead. “I’d rather rely on a lifetime

of double A batteries before I do the hunka chunka with Craig MacGilvary.”

The dream had ruined sleep for her, though, and through the remainder of her

restless night, images of Craig kept popping into her thoughts.

* * * *

Craig knew Sunday wouldn’t turn into an ordinary family gathering. Nope. Couldn’t

be that simple. Through the open sliding glass door to his mother’s home, Craig heard the
doorbell ring, his mother’s welcoming voice, then the sound of Edie, Trey’s biological
mother.

Mick tossed a football at Craig in the grassy backyard. “What’s eating you?”
Craig caught the football and wound up to toss it back. “Not a damned thing.” He

launched the ball toward Mick. “What’s eating you?”

Mick caught the ball and sent it toward Trey. “Celeste is driving me nuts. She’s

stressing over this wedding.”

Trey snorted. “I know. I hear about it from Olivia on a daily basis.”
Trey had married his English fiancée in a simple ceremony at Christmas last year.

Celeste, in contrast, wanted the big wedding, and whether he admitted it or not, Mick
wanted the same thing. Both of them liked pomp and circumstance. Craig couldn’t
imagine going through all the hassle for a wedding; being the center of attention even for
a few hours gave him shivers. Even worse, the thought of sleeping with the same woman
and living until death do you part cramped not only his style but his stomach too. Nope.
He’d let his brothers do the domestic bliss scene and pop out the grandchildren. Not for
him.

He glanced at his brothers.
They stood tall, athletic bodies honed by frequent workouts to keep in fighting shape

for SWAT. Craig loved practicing the brutal but effective Keysi Fighting Method with
his brothers, but just tossing the ball around in Mom’s back yard felt good. Relaxing.

Now, if he could stop thinking about Leigh.
Since the incident two days ago, he’d considered calling her. With supreme effort

he’d fought the urge. No point in calling her. Besides, Celeste had reported that Leigh’s
arm already looked better. It didn’t stop him from obsessing over her, though. Damn it.

Mom stepped out onto the back porch. “Dinner’s ready, boys.”
They all headed into the dining area just as the doorbell rang again. Mom answered

the door, and within seconds Craig heard Leigh’s voice. Great. Just who he wanted to
see. Not.

Celeste, Olivia, Edie and his mom Arlene descended on Leigh with hugs and

questions about her health.

“Come in,” Mom said as Leigh took a tentative step inside.
Leigh’s smile disappeared as she caught sight of Craig. She looked like someone had

shot her puppy. Craig wanted to growl at her reaction. Fuck me. Does she really dislike
me that much?

“I really shouldn’t.” Leigh handed some papers to Celeste. “Helga Swanson said

she’ll create just the cake you wanted.”

Celeste squealed. “Oh, great! I’m so glad you found it.”
Mick groaned and slipped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulder. “Thank God. I

thought we’d have to go all Betty Crocker or something and borrow one of mom’s bundt
cake pans.”

“You don’t even know what a bundt cake is, do you?” Trey asked with a snicker.
A round of laughs echoed in the room, but Craig didn’t join in. Damn, did Leigh

have to wear a figure-hugging yellow dress that bared those toned arms? Her upper arm
still sported a large bandage, and it reminded Craig of the stomach-churning fear that had
slammed him when he’d seen her in the alley with blood on her blouse.

At the same time, he’d caught his libido noticing the way her skirt had curved over

her butt and the way her red blouse had hugged full, high breasts. God. Had he ever
noticed. Then he’d wanted to kick his own ass. How the hell could he think about sex
when she’d had such a close call?

A combination of adrenaline and sexual attraction had left him feeling jumpy as hell.

Late that night he’d come home and jogged through his neighborhood just to drain off the
crazy feelings.

Today her cheekbones were high with color, and her parted lips red and full. She

looked healthy, and God help him, ripe for the plucking. His insides twisted in a
combination of male terror and primal appreciation.

Her long, tanned legs caught his attention before his gaze snagged on her pink

toenail polish and high-heeled yellow sandals. Christ. She drove him crazy. He felt like a
damned drooling teenager with hormones out of control. He wrestled like a madman with
that control as he realized he was eyeballing her like some dirtbag.

A man could easily surround her in his embrace. She couldn’t be more than five four,

and her slim, petite figure brought out a curious and unwanted reaction that went beyond
male lust. He craved her. When their gazes collided again, Craig thought he saw an
answering desire in her eyes. The pink in her cheeks turned to genuine red.

Holy shit. She’s blushing.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He swallowed hard.
It had been like this ever since they’d first met. He’d responded to a call at Celeste’s

home when her ex-boyfriend had thrown a rock through her window. Glass from the
window had cut Leigh’s face.

From the first moment their eyes had met, Leigh had openly given him the cold

shoulder. Everything within him had gone on defensive, which surprised the hell out of
him. Women either liked him well enough or he scared them. Trey and Mick told him it
was because he sported too much of a hard-ass demeanor. He’d advised them to fuck off.
He wasn’t one of those asses who walked around sporting a smile all the time. He didn’t
do smarm and charm.

Even now her eyes held a cool dismissal that fired his blood. He wanted her to look

at him with something more like…what?

Desire?
Ah, Jesus, sport. Get a grip.
Craig shrugged, trying to work the tension out of his shoulders.
“Did you bring that smoothie recipe?” Mom asked, oblivious to his inner drama.
Leigh jerked her gaze from Craig’s. “I forgot.”
“Not to worry,” Olivia said. “She has the recipe memorized.”
“Come in and have a bite to eat.” Arlene tugged Leigh into the room and closed the

front door. “You can make us smoothies afterwards.”

“But I—”
“You said you were free when I called you earlier,” Celeste said. “Besides, I want

your advice on a couple of things related to the wedding.”

Mick groaned. “Wedding, wedding.”
Celeste grinned and punched him playfully on the arm. “Shut up.”
“I already ate,” Leigh said, gaze darting around the room as if desperate to escape an

oncoming wave.

She couldn’t refuse Arlene’s persuasive and warm personality, though, and sat down

at the table. Soon conversation flowed. The aroma of prime rib teased Craig’s nose, and
he allowed his appetite to distract him. Still, even as he ate, he couldn’t help but remain
aware of Leigh’s every move. How could any woman be so damned graceful? Had she
taken dance lessons? Her body always looked honed, designed for…

Sex.
Craig almost groaned.
He needed to get laid. Then he could forget how crazy this woman made him.
Craig observed the women in his family with affection. All were pretty, but Leigh

demanded his ruthless attention. His gaze returned to her time and again, obsessed.

“What’s left to do for the wedding?” Arlene asked, after taking a sip of iced tea.
Leigh listed items, ticking them off one by one on her fingers. “The final dress fitting

is less than a month away. Flowers are set. There’s the cake to be finalized.”

“Jeez,” Trey groaned. “That’s a hell of a lot of stuff.”
Leigh sniffed. “Hardly. Almost everything is done.”
Olivia waggled her eyebrows. “There’s the bachelorette party coming up”
Celeste winced. “Oh boy.”
Olivia’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Nervous?”
Celeste snorted softly. “I’m game for a lot, but I’m not walking around with one of

those dollar store tiaras and veil.”

Leigh’s smile widened. “She’s just worried she’ll get a lot of embarrassing

underwear.”

“Isn’t that what brides-to-be are supposed to get?” Olivia asked with a confused

expression.

Celeste waved one hand in dismissal. “I already know you’re all planning on buying

me sexy stuff. That’s a given.”

Olivia added, “In England we do a pub hop and each girl in the party has a can that

people can drop coins into. The bride-to-be has to sing, even if she’s horrible.”

Leigh laughed. “Hey, that’s a good idea. I think we should add that to the party.”
Celeste stuck her tongue out at Leigh. “Don’t you dare.”

“We’re evil, my darling,” Leigh said with an exaggerated English accent that made

Olivia laugh. “You cannot escape.”

Soft laughter made the rounds of the table. Everyone was entertained except for

Craig.

“Wait.” Craig’s head snapped up. “Swanson’s? That’s where you’re getting the

cake?”

“Yes.” Leigh’s tone held an edge of defensiveness. “Why?”
Craig placed his fork carefully on his plate. “It’s in a bad part of town.”
Mick nodded. “He’s right. It’s in Ely. A little iffy.”
Craig grunted. “A little iffy? That neighborhood has gone to seed and it’s damn

dangerous.” He shook his head and thwacked Mick on the back. “What’s wrong with
you?”

Mick’s glare warned Craig off and told Craig he was letting his past interfere in the

present. But damn it, that didn’t change the facts. Ely wasn’t the best area in a town.

“You could escort Leigh to Swanson’s.” Mick’s voice teased, his eyebrows twitching

upward with obvious amusement.

Craig balked. He glanced at Leigh, whose expression had turned cool. “No, thanks.”
Celeste shook her head. “It’s not that bad down there. Mrs. Swanson has lived there

forever and hasn’t had any trouble.”

“I survived living there,” Olivia said.
Trey lifted his glass of iced tea and nodded. “Damn straight.”
Craig didn’t let up. “Statistically speaking, Ely is the worst part of town. It doesn’t

matter that Mrs. Swanson has lived there unscathed.”

Leigh’s fork hit her plate with a ping. “Too late. Deposit is already made.”
Trey smiled at Craig. “Overruled, bro.”
Craig’s jaw clenched. “What about Hannigan’s Bakery over on Wilcox?”
Leigh’s expression couldn’t have yelled “you have to be kidding me” more than if

she’d screamed it in his face. “Hannigan’s doesn’t have the square cake pans needed to
make Celeste’s cake. Celeste wants a square cake, and she’s getting a square cake.”

Trey opened his big mouth, like any good MacGilvary brother should. “I’ve never

heard of a square cake at a wedding.”

“Trey,” Olivia said, her crisp English accent holding a full fledged warning.
Trey held up both hands. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m keeping my nose outta this.”
“Good idea,” Mom said, her voice light, but her eyes narrowed with parental

disapproval.

Craig was glad he sat across from Leigh rather than next to her. He wanted to

strangle her. Then he said something that surprised even him. “When you go down there
to pick it up, make sure I’m with you.”

Leigh’s mouth dropped open, and so did everyone else’s. Heat crawled into his face.

Never one to experience embarrassment over anything, he burned in a combination of
mortification and frustration. Smiles broke out around the table; his freakin’ brothers
looked too damned pleased with themselves. Leigh’s mouth snapped closed, but her eyes
burned with female indignation he’d recognize anywhere.

“Just as a precaution,” Craig said, digging his grave even deeper.
Leigh sighed. “Oh, God, you cops are so paranoid.”
Before Craig could continue slogging through the mess he’d made, his Mom

changed the subject, her voice cheerful. “Anyone for desert? Pie or smoothies?”

“Both.” Trey and Mick said at the same time.
Leigh pushed back from the table. “I’ll make the smoothies.”
“Everything you need is in the fridge,” Mom said.
Before Craig could cut out his own tongue, he said, “I’ll help.”
Once more a huge silence filled the room.
“Let’s go outside and enjoy the fresh air,” Mom said.
A chorus of agreement echoed in the room.
After they went outside, Craig followed Leigh into the kitchen and helped gather

items for the smoothies. She tossed curious glances his way, and he could almost see her
mind churning. He watched her work the blender, his attention focused.

She looked beautiful today, but she also radiated a strength that said, “mess with me

and I’ll kick your ass.” She could probably drop kick a man if he even considered
touching her in any way she didn’t want. Watching her move around a kitchen started to
blur his rational mind.

Get a grip. She’s too damn pushy. Too strong. Too self-assured. Too…sexual.
He almost smirked. Since when had a woman been too sexual for him? Pouring

himself into the job and his family assured he kept serious involvement with a woman
unlikely. If sexual frustration boiled too high, there was always a good jack off in the
shower.

Yeah, but nothing else feels like a woman’s soft, hot—
Craig’s imagination shot into overdrive. What would it feel like to sink deep inside

Leigh’s warmth?

His cock went solid as a spike, and his fingers tightened on his glass of ice water.

Leigh spilled strawberry yogurt and licked it off her index finger. Holy—. He wanted to
be that finger. He wanted to strip her naked, thrust so deep inside her he could never find
his way back out.

Her head jerked up, and she caught him staring. He didn’t even try to look away. Her

eyes seared him, and as those pretty lips parted, a flush reddened her cheeks. He took a
step forward, drawn to her. Then, to his complete surprise, she grinned. A warm, cagey
smile.

“Something wrong, MacGilvary? Still smarting from the spanking you got at the

table?”

Christ, he’d love to put her over his knee right about now. He snorted. “What?”
“What was that all about earlier? Why did you insist that you go with me to Mrs.

Swanson’s? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Spit it out. Just tell her. He took a deep breath. “Two years ago a woman went there

to pick up a cake and disappeared. People think she was abducted outside Helga’s home.
Problem is, no one saw a damned thing, not even Helga. Bad things happen to women
down there if they aren’t careful.”

She turned on the blender, and she had to talk over the motor. “And you think just

because I go there I’ll get snatched?”

“No, but—”
“Or are you just bossy as hell?”
“I am not bossy.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Are too.”

“I am not—” He stepped forward again and glared at her. “It’s dangerous down

there. Why the hell do you have to push the envelope every time?”

“Me?” Her sardonic smile didn’t budge. “Because I like to live. Not stay stuffed up

in my apartment worried every second of the day that something bad could happen. I
can’t control everything, Craig. Why do you think you can?”

“Because when risk takers screw up, I have to scrape them off the sidewalk, that’s

why. I have to get them out of jams.” He practically growled the words.

Her eyebrows lowered as her smile disappeared. “Like you did with me the other

day? Was that asshole shooting at me somehow my fault and you felt obligated to get me
out of a jam?”

Her question threw him. Few women he’d met outside of his mother were this direct.

“No. It wasn’t your fault. But I’ve heard about you, Leigh. You’re a risk taker. Celeste
said you’ve traveled alone all over the world. Greece, Argentina, Africa, Russia,
Guatemala, Honduras, you name it you’ve done it. Sky diving, bungee jumping, taking
tours to active volcanoes. Behavior like that can get you killed.”

Her eyes filled with fight. “And you’re not a risk taker? What do you call being a

cop? A Sunday picnic?”

Shit. She has a point.
Confusion blindsided him. Why the hell was he getting so worked up with her? She

was an adult, for God’s sake.

He cleared his throat and reluctantly backpedaled. “I’m not trying to say you can’t

take care of yourself. Obviously you can.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Look, I
admire independent women who do the kind of things you do. I’m not warning you away
from Ely because I think you’re incapable. At the same time, you shouldn’t ask for
trouble.”

Surprise raced over her features, her expression momentarily unguarded. Her face

returned to disbelief. “You are something else, Craig MacGilvary. There’s a huge
difference between risky behavior and knowing how to enjoy a damned good time. I
would think you of all people would understand that. You’re a cop, Craig. That’s risky.
Why is it okay for you to risk, but not me?”

Heat gathered inside him, the fury and the excitement of sparing with her disturbing

him on several levels. He was acting ridiculous and yet couldn’t stop. He felt like a
bystander watching an oncoming train wreck, incapable of looking away, yet unable to
do anything to prevent the collision.

He was back to wanting to strangle her. Better yet, turn her over his lap and paddle

her ass. Oh, yeah. He’d enjoy that.

When he didn’t answer her, she continued with, “You’re paranoid. I think your job

has impaired your judgment. There isn’t a bogie man around every corner.”

He liked how she spoke so casually—her clipped, short sentences, the no-nonsense

cadence. He just didn’t like what she was saying. Time to drop the subject, man.

“What’s this drink supposed to do?” he asked as he sipped his water. “Cool us off?”
Leigh popped the lid off the blender and reached for the apple green tumblers. “More

than that. It’s supposed to be an aphrodisiac.”

He choked on another mouthful of water, sputtering and coughing.
She patted his back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Did you say aphrodisiac?”

“I did.”
“Pineapple, bananas, strawberry, yogurt, orange juice, cranberry juice and ice. It’s

just a smoothie.”

“I have a friend who swears by it.”
Craig shook his head. “It’s a smoothie.”
She poured a generous portion into a tall plastic tumbler. “Fine. Think what you

want. Here, drink it. At the very least you’ll cool down.”

Leigh’s long fingers brushed his as she handed him the cup. Heat zinged through his

body. A mere innocent touch from a woman shouldn’t send him into libido meltdown.
Hiding a hard-on would prove damned difficult if he kept this up. He concentrated on the
icy cup against his fingers. One sip through a straw and he groaned.

She laughed softly—that crystal clean sound. “Either that’s ecstasy or brain freeze.”
“Brain freeze.” His next sip was more tentative.
She poured a generous measure into her own cup. “And here I thought you might

agree with me on the erotic properties.”

Craig searched for teasing in her eyes. “You’re still serious.”
Leigh sipped, closed her eyes and sighed. Her lips parted. When her eyes popped

open, she said, “I have a cookbook of erotic recipes.”

“Of course you do.”
“Don’t believe me?”
“If anyone would, it would be you.”
She edged nearer to him. Fuck. The drink wasn’t cooling him down.
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“You’re…you. High-energy. Assertive. Independent, yet meddling.”
Perturbation and amusement brightened her eyes. “You make me sound like a prize

terrier.” She held up one hand. “Don’t answer that.” She tilted her head to the side. “So
it’s just me personally you have a problem with.”

Damn direct. “Yeah.”
“Because I take what you consider to be risks.”
“Yep.”
She sighed. “Then what kind of woman does turn you on?”
Good question. One he couldn’t answer truthfully without showing his hand. You

damn it. You.

“What other foods are in this erotic cookbook?” he asked instead.
“Orgasm oysters.” She licked her lips, then sucked smoothie through her straw. A

tiny bit of liquid remained on her lower lip. “Passion pomegranate cake. Feckin’ Irish
Soda Bread. Succulent Swiss Steak.” She kept her gaze glued to his. “Chocolate Cum
Cake.”

He snorted. “Chocolate Cum—as in crumb cake?”
She toyed with her straw, acting like she planned to take a sip, then backing off.

“Much better. Tastier.” She sighed, and the sound glided over his ears. “Far richer and
decadent. Come over to my place Friday night, and I’ll try a recipe on you.”

Craig froze to the spot. When it came to women he sometimes felt dumber than a

box of rocks, but he wanted to make certain he didn’t misinterpret what she offered.
“Why?”

“I think you should help me plan Mick and Celeste’s wedding.”

Um…that wasn’t what he’d expected.
Incredulous, he stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve planned most of it. What’s left to

do?”

“Odds and ends. I’ll show you.”
She licked her straw, and he almost dropped his smoothie.
“Why the hell would you want my help?” he asked.
She winked. “Because you’re an enigma to me, Craig MacGilvary. You’re driving

me nuts, and I want to understand you. I think you could use a little loosening up.”

Challenged, he decided he’d meet her halfway. “If you want me to help, come over

to my house Friday night.”

The sliding glass door opened and Trey stuck his head inside. “What’s taking you

guys so long?”

* * * *

Craig grabbed the first reasonable bottle of red wine he found on the drug store shelf.

The last call had taken him down to the wire, but he didn’t want to arrive at the Monday
night block party cookout empty handed.

Craig looked at the wine label one more time—maybe he’d pick up a better bottle.
That’s when he spied the kid in his peripheral vision. The boy, maybe around twelve,

looked familiar. Where had he seen him before? Tall, for his age, the kid showed signs
he’d one day stand over six feet. With long black hair pulled back by a leather cord, and a
long belted black duster coat, the kid had a serious case of ‘tude plastered on his pale
face. A black coat and big boots in this heat? Penetrating green eyes locked with Craig’s
and held in a flashpoint of panic.

At the same time, Craig recognized him.
The kid ran.
Shit.
Craig plunked the wine back on the shelf and sprinted after him. The boy tried to

avoid a tight spot between two stacks and bumped a tower of cookie boxes. As the boxes
crashed to the floor, the boy skidded into a shelf and his feet shot out from under him. A
yell escaped the teen as he flew through the air and landed on his back.

Craig stopped next to the black-garbed teen, hands on his hips and glare in place.

The kid’s shocked expression surprised him. Instead of trying to rise, the sprawled teen
stared at Craig with frightened eyes.

Craig reached down, grabbed the kid’s arm and hauled him to his feet. By now a

small crowd had gathered—four patrons and an employee.

“Let me go!” The kid regained his sass, twisting under Craig’s hold. “I didn’t do

nothing!”

Craig held on tighter. “If I had a dollar for every time someone said that—but since

security cameras will show you trying to pocket a bottle of whiskey, I think it’s futile for
you to claim innocence.” Craig reached into the kid’s huge coat. He drew out a small
plastic bottle of cheap whiskey. “My guess is you’re too young to drink.”

“That’s shoplifting,” the twenty-something clerk said, pointing at the boy.
Craig almost rolled his eyes. He handed the whiskey to the clerk and then used his

shoulder radio to report.

“What’s your name?” Craig asked. “You’re Dutch Kanter’s son, aren’t you?”

The boy stayed mum, his gaze cold and unresponsive.
Craig kept is grip on the boy’s arm and hauled him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

* * * *

Back at the busy sheriff’s department, Kelso booked Dane Kanter for shoplifting.

But before Dane’s father arrived, Craig decided to talk with the sullen kid on a level that
might break through Dane’s defensiveness long enough to make a difference.

Craig sat at a desk with the delinquent settled in a metal chair nearby. Kelso had left

the room to take care of a few items.

Outside a storm brewed, thunder rumbling. It promised to cool the insistent heat that

battered the Colorado landscape.

“We’re neighbors,” Craig said.
Dane shifted, his shoulders slumped as he sagged in the chair like a wet rag. “Yeah. I

know.” Dane looked at the floor. “I’ve seen you.”

The tone held adolescent contempt dripping with false bravado.
Craig had some hard questions. “I saw the bruises on your back and ribs when we

searched your clothes. Where did you get them?”

The kid continued to stare at the floor. “Playing football with friends.”
Bullshit.
“You’re lying, Dane. Why?”
“I ain’t lying.” The sentence held antagonism.
Craig clasped his hands together and leaned back in his chair, mirroring the

teenager’s position. “I played some football when I was your age. I lived in this crappy
neighborhood with mean-ass kids who were more into being cruel than fair play.”

Dane’s eyes flickered up, a sneer on his lips. “You? Play football?”
Craig refused to take offense, used to the disbelief. “I’m not big enough, I know.

And I used to be skinnier than you. Kids picked on me all the time until I…I got into a
very bad crowd.”

Dane snorted. “Right.”
“The guys in the neighborhood were all ages. About twenty of them from around the

county. But even when we played hard football and kicked my ass, I didn’t get the kind
of bruises you got. Someone beat you. Who is it?”

Surprise filled Dane’s eyes, but quickly disappeared. This kid knew how to hide his

feelings well. Craig felt a strong pang, a twinge that echoed deep. He understood this boy
even if he didn’t want to feel it. To remember when he was the same age and hurting. His
throat ached with the memories, then he shoved them back. He couldn’t do a damned
thing about the past, but maybe he could help this kid now.

Defensiveness rose in the young man’s tight lips. “You’re crazy man. No one beats

me.”

Craig cut to the chase. “Is it your father?”
“No.” The word shot out of the kid.
“Your mother refused to press charges on him when we arrested him last year for

giving her a black eye. Has he been beating you, too?”

Nervousness flashed through the boy’s gaze, his right foot tapping as his leg bounced

to an unheard beat. “Dad’s an asshole, but he ain’t touched me.” Sadness slipped into his
expression, his mouth holding equal amounts of insolence and defenselessness. “It ain’t

like that.”

“Fine. But all this doesn’t explain why the hell you’re shoplifting whisky. It’s not for

you, is it?”

“Yeah, it is.”
Craig didn’t have proof one way or the other if the kid was drinking underage.

Somehow he didn’t believe it.

Before he could continue the interview, the boy’s father appeared at the doorway and

stared into the room with pure disgust. Over six feet tall of bristling anger, the forty-
something man already had grey in his thick hair, deep lines in his forehead, and an
attitude that screamed tough-guy. He’d worked construction all his life, and his wife was
a nurse at the hospital in Gold Rush. Craig drew in a slow and calming breath. While he
must deal professionally with this douche bag, he didn’t trust the man.

“Here’s your father,” Craig said. “Now, listen. If you need help and things get out of

hand in your home, you get out of there and then you call 9-1-1.” He pulled a card out of
a holder on his desk and handed one to the boy. “Or you can call me if you need to talk.
Every time you think about stealing something, you can call me and we’ll talk it
through.”

“Why would you do that, man?” Pure disbelief covered the boy’s face.
“Because I was once like you in many ways. I think I understand.”
Dane’s skeptical expression spoke for him.
Okay, so Dane’s disbelief wouldn’t disappear in a minute, an hour, or a day. But at

least Craig could offer him a lifeline. Whether he took that lifeline or not would remain
up to Dane.

The boy’s father arrived at the desk. “You MacGilvary?”
Craig stood. The older man towered over him, forcing Craig to tilt his head to look at

him. His intimidation, though, came more in his brutal face, cold eyes, and record with
the law that proved the man didn’t like following rules. “Mr. Kanter.”

“My kid stole some whisky from a store?”
“He did. He’s been charged with shoplifting. The court will set a date on his

punishment, but for now he’s in your custody.”

Kanter glared at Dane. “Get up.”
Craig felt his insides bristle. “There’s something else you need to be aware of.”
Kanter turned his stare onto Craig. “What?”
“We noticed bruises on the boy’s body that are consistent with a beating. He’s

insisting no one beat him—he got the injuries playing football. But I’m telling you right
now I don’t believe him. Child Protective Services will be calling you.”

Instantaneously the man’s expression turned thunderous. He threw another glare at

his son. “What did you tell him? Are you telling lies?”

“Oh, I think he’s telling lies, Kanter, but they aren’t the kind you think. He claims no

one’s laid a hand on him. If I find out anyone has, there will be hell to pay.”

Dane’s eyes filled with equal amounts of fear and surprise at Craig’s threat.
Kanter’s mouth curled a little as he expressed his true thoughts. “You live next to us,

don’t you? I’ve seen you around.”

“Yep.”
“You been snooping into our business?”
Craig smiled, knowing that his grin lacked humor. “I could care less what you do as

long as it’s not illegal and doesn’t hurt your son.”

The man grunted. “Yeah. Well, you don’t know shit about my family. I don’t beat

my kid. Ever. I don’t have anything to hide. Not a damn thing.”

With that the man took his son’s upper arm and urged him away with a stern look

and a rebuke as they left the office. “What the fuck were you thinking, Dane?”

Craig sank back into his chair as frustration ate a hole in him.
Kelso strode up. “You okay, man?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Craig looked up in surprise. “What?” He laughed. “Hell, no. Get outta here.”
Kelso grinned and continued on, his smile saying he took no offense.
Craig looked at his watch. He’d missed the block party, but it seemed worth it now.

At least the kid had a contact, someone he could turn to if this all blew up in his face.

Chapter Three

Leigh waited for Craig to answer his front door. She shifted on her feet and looked

up and down the corridor. It was a quiet older building that looked as if it had gone
through major renovations, and Craig lived on the fifth floor—the very top. Now that
she’d arrived at the sizable apartment building in the older part of town, she felt
unaccountably nervous.

All week she’d plotted and planned. Part of her wanted Craig to participate in the

wedding plans, but she also wanted to test his mettle. His endurance. Would Mr. Cool
and Collected react like a disinterested cold fish when he saw her, or the hot-blooded man
he might be?

She half believed he was incapable of steamy passion. Either his molten looks

translated to pure dislike, or he watched her like a hawk because he wanted her.

She would discover the truth. The real question of the day was why the hell she

wanted to.

The white paneled door opened, and she jerked out of her contemplation.
“Hello.” Craig didn’t smile, but he moved back to let her in. “You’re early.”
“I’m chronically early to everything. Doctors call it earlyitis.”
“Good. I have a thing about late people. It’s rude.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t fault him. “You’re right. It is. My father is always late.

Drives me and my mother nuts.”

She followed him into the large open-plan living room. The vaulted ceiling made the

already large living room look bigger. Impressions flew at her. Comfortable dark leather
furnishings, big coffee table and side tables were scattered strategically. Burgundy, gold,
and jade green patterns turned the area rug into a luxurious overlay on the large tiles. A
fireplace dominated the room as well as a large flat-screen television on one wall and
bookshelves on another. From where she stood, she could see the kitchen featured dark
cherry wood, stainless steel appliances, and beautiful granite countertops.

“You want something to drink?” He headed for the kitchen. “Water, coffee, iced tea,

cola?”

“Iced tea is fine, thank you.” She followed and sat on a stool at the breakfast bar.
He rummaged in the fridge. “My real father…I never met him. My birth mother

refused to tell me who he was, and his name isn’t on the birth certificate.”

Ice clinked into a glass as he poured tea from a pitcher into a tall, plain glass.
Surprised he’d revealed this information about himself, she felt a connection, a need

to show sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

He placed the tea on the counter in front of her. He reached in the fridge for a cola

and popped the top of the can. “I’m over it.”

Was he?
“Complicated family history?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“What did your mother do for a living?”
He took a swig of cola. “Why do you want to know?”
“Insatiable, nosy curiosity.”

He sat the can down on the counter, his eyes glazed with residual anger from

something long ago. “Her name was Beth Jacobson. My name was Craig Randall
Jacobson until I was adopted. I like MacGilvary a hell of a lot better. Helps me forget
everything I can about my mother.”

Craig’s statement and willingness to reveal smidgens of his history surprised her.

She’d press onward, but gently. She sipped the refreshing tea, glad he hadn’t put sugar in
it.

“She was a waitress here in Gold Rush,” he said. “She was involved with shady men

and rotten deals all the time. She took drugs—shoplifted; you name it, she’d tried it.”

“Oh, my God.” Her heart softened, opening wider than she wanted to allow.
He wandered around the counter and sat on the bar stool next to her. “One night…”
“Yes?” she asked softly.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. He took a long, slow breath. “You didn’t come here

to hear my sordid history. Let’s talk about this wedding.”

She wanted to know more, to hear what he’d almost said. She turned on the bar stool,

and her bare knee bumped into his long, strong leg encased in jeans. His gaze tangled
with hers, and she became hypersensitive to his forcefulness, the power of his
masculinity. A brown, non-descript t-shirt molded over his broad shoulders. His biceps
and forearms flexed with muscle and the sprinkling of dark blond hair over his arms
emphasized his strength. She took a cleansing breath to steady the fluttering in her belly
and felt a flush spread upward over her chest and into her face.

Lovely.
Now he’d wonder what the hell was wrong with her. Time to back away and

regroup.

She left the stool and headed for the leather portfolio she’d left on the couch next to

her purse. She sat on the couch, and Craig left the stool to sit next to her. So much for
distance.

As she opened the portfolio, he said, “You must be organized to do your job

efficiently.”

She caught the amusement in his eyes. “Perfectionism is a good talent to have as a

wedding planner. You wouldn’t believe the number of twits who think this is an easy
job.”

“Same people who think law enforcement is an easy job. Does perfectionism get you

into trouble with clients?”

“Just the opposite. Most of them need a perfectionist on their side in case they aren’t.

If they are a perfectionist we get along fine, too.”

“Even if they make unreasonable demands?” He leaned closer to survey the papers in

portfolio.

“Yes.” Her mouth was parched, and she licked her lips.
“Every time?”
“Of course not.” Her fingers smoothed over cool paper. “If they’re practical,

reasonable people, they don’t expect perfection. But I try to come as close as possible.”

His eyes held that bit of teasing she liked, that made her insides tremble. She felt

flushed, disconcerted.

The man was too damned close. Delicious male musk drifted into her senses and

starting a spiraling longing that stirred desire within. God, he smelled so good. She

wanted to quench the needs clamoring for appeasement, but knew she couldn’t very well
jump him right this second. There was a good chance that if she did, he would reject her.

“What about Mick and Celeste?” he asked.
She clicked her ballpoint pen and scribbled on a piece of scrap paper to see if the pen

worked. Success. A medium point black line ran over the paper. She hated thin point.

“Mick doesn’t stick his nose into most of the planning.”
“Figured as much.” Craig clasped his hands together. “Men don’t get caught up in

this…” He waved one hand. “Extra…stuff.”

She couldn’t stifle a smile. “You were going to say crap, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was.” His gaze narrowed. “You brought me into the planning to torture me,

didn’t you?”

“How’d you guess?”
If he stared at her any more fiercely, she just might burst into flames. God, he made

her hot. “What’s the point, Leigh? Why is it so important I help you with this wedding?”

She sighed. “To loosen you up. Sometimes the poker up your—”
“What?” He sat up straight, eyes no longer teasing, his bearing all manly cop and

indignation. “Give me a break.”

The contempt in his tone surprised her a bit. She hadn’t expected that he’d bristle

like a porcupine. She held up one hand. “Ever since the day I met you, I wanted to know
what it would take to make you lose that stiffness.”

He rolled his gaze the ceiling a moment, then pinned her with an exasperated look.

“Don’t you have enough work to do?”

She deflected his gristle with a grin. “Apparently not.”
Craig grunted in that way only a doubtful male could. He scooted close to her, and

for a second her senses jumped to the heat of his big body, the overwhelming strength he
projected, and his crisp male scent. “Let’s see this list.”

She cleared her throat and flipped through her portfolio to show him the list.
Craig’s glance darted over the charts she’d made showing items finished and what

needed completing. Each item had a drop-dread date. “You’re certainly organized.”

“Have to be. Clients need me to take care of the things they don’t want to worry

about. They need absolute confidence I won’t screw up their big day, and that I can do
the job. Think of it as a well-executed SWAT operation. No room for error, or lives could
be lost.”

Curiosity sharpened in his eyes. “What do you know about SWAT?”
She pursed her lips a little, an odd desire to tease him rising. “You think I could have

a best friend marrying a cop and not have an idea how cops work?”

“Yeah.”
She shrugged. “Well, in my case, I do understand cops. Very well.”
“Impressive. I’m not used to women understanding what we do. They like the idea

of it.” A bare bones smile flitted over his lips. “Gets them hot.”

Her entire body flamed, reacting to his statement with an abandon she couldn’t

control. Oh, yeah. Whether she liked it or not, the idea of this cop made her hot.

Amusement glinting in his eyes challenged her, and resentment tweaked Leigh. “Oh,

I see. The mystique. The alpha male stereotype.”

“The alpha male isn’t stereotype.”
She leaned closer, half-conscious of the danger in remaining near an intoxicating

man. “Oh? So you’re an alpha male?”

“Yep.”
“Hmm. Isn’t that a little arrogant?”
“I’m not saying being alpha is better than anything else. I know myself very well. I

don’t pretend to be anything I’m not.”

Leigh drew in a slow breath, aware of reluctant admiration stirring inside her. “I

haven’t met too many men like that.”

“You’re skeptical.”
“Absolutely. A man would have to prove it to me.”
Skepticism lined his own face. “A man shouldn’t have to prove what he lives. He’s

either real or he isn’t.”

Caught in a place where she couldn’t answer without sounding even more cynical or

shrewish, she shifted her paper work and looked down at it. “And what does that have to
do with wedding planning?”

“Nothing.”
Relieved, she said, “This is what I call a blueprint for a well planned wedding. Mick

and Celeste have already finished most of what’s on here. They set the date obviously,
the style and size, which is formal but with no more than a hundred guests. They set a
budget, she had her gown made, headpiece, etc. She’s having her hair and makeup
done—”

“She’s paying someone to do her hair and makeup?” Incredulity edged his voice.
An old tape swelled inside her. Chad used to always say something condescending

about her hair. It was either too long or too short or too something. “You think that’s a
waste of money?”

He shrugged. “I never thought about it.”
She rolled her gaze to the ceiling for a second. “Some brides aren’t the best at doing

their own makeup and they want to look fabulous for their husband-to-be.”

Craig’s gaze smoothed over her, a slow, appreciative glance that said he liked what

he saw. Her breath quickened.

“Would you do your own makeup?” he asked.
What a question. She hesitated, unsure. “I might. I don’t know. I don’t think about

what I’d do at my own wedding.”

“Interesting.” He kept his gaze on her, searching, intrigued. “I’d figure a wedding

planner would.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Since I don’t plan on ever getting married, then

I don’t think about it at all.”

Surprise flickered over his face. “Never? Not what I would expect.”
“Why? Because every woman should get married?”
“Hell, no. There are plenty of people out there who shouldn’t get married. I have

evidence of that every time I go to a home where there’s a domestic violence situation.”

“But you think it’s bizarre a wedding consultant would believe in happily ever after

for other people, but not for themselves?”

“Yeah, I do.”
“Call me different.”
A smile touched his mouth, a hint of humor that spoke of confusion mixed with

appreciation. “I figured that out a long time ago.” His face switched back to cop mode as

he examined the lists in her portfolio. “What else have Mick and Celeste accomplished
already?”

“They sent out invitations a long time ago, wedding party is chosen obviously.” She

used her pen to continue checking off items on the chart. “Reception is being held at the
same hotel as the ceremony…the Marchant.”

“Marchant?” His eyebrows went up. “Isn’t that expensive?”
Exasperation filled her. “Depends on your definition of expensive.” She showed him

the figures. “Not as bad as you thought, right?”

“No.”
“You wouldn’t spend that much on a reception?”
“Probably not.”
She leaned back against the couch for a moment. “You’d run away to Vegas and get

married by Elvis, wouldn’t you?”

He didn’t even crack a smile. “You’re assuming I ever want to get married.”
“Ah, so you’re like me that way?”
“Getting married isn’t in the cards for me.”
Leigh paused at thought, her pen hovering over the next item. “Why?”
“I don’t want any woman who has more baggage than I do, and it seems like they all

do. Plus, most women can’t deal with the danger a cop faces every day.”

She relaxed, finding herself eager to talk with him on this level. “You’re right.

Baggage bugs me, and the danger…well, we know Celeste and Mick had trouble with
that. Of course, they worked it out.”

“They wanted to work it out.”
Nodding with a true sense of purpose, she said, “A couple must commit to what they

want in their marriage.”

“Absolutely.”
She laughed softly. “We know exactly what it takes to make it work, but we want

nothing to do with it.”

Her gaze clashed with his, and a wave of awareness halted her thoughts. She could

drown in those blue eyes, dark with secrets and depth. Attraction slammed dunked her
even thought she didn’t want it.

She glanced away. “Okay, let’s keep going. Honeymoon in a cabin in Estes Park is

finalized. Gown and bouquet preservation is finalized. Vendors were sent confirmation
letters. If you could check with Mick on the wedding transportation, just to make sure it
is taken care of.”

She put Craig’s name next to the item and continued to rattle off the list. “Wedding

rings are purchased and engraved. Florist selected and flowers ordered. DJ selected.
Men’s attire ordered, fittings scheduled. Guest list finalized. Ceremony planned. Vows
written—”

“They’re writing their own vows?”
“Didn’t Mick tell you?”
Craig’s eyebrows speared together. “No.”
“Maybe he thinks it’s too personal.”
“Or that Trey and I would tease him about it.”
“Would you?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”

She continued. “Figures. Marriage license. Check. Wedding shoes bought and

broken in. Check.”

“Never would have thought of the shoes.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He grunted.
“Provide caterer with final head count. Write reception place cards. You could do

that.”

“No way. My handwriting sucks.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just kidding.”
“You’d better be.”
Enjoying the banter, she proceeded. “Tanya is having the bachelorette party at

Celeste and Mick’s house. We need strippers for the party.”

Total disbelief crossed his features. “Strippers?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing…I guess.”
“Are you one of those men who think it’s okay for a man to go to a strip club for his

bachelor party, but not for a woman to do the same thing?”

He clasped his hands together and centered his gaze on her. “Doesn’t matter to me. I

just didn’t think Celeste was the type.”

Indignation mixed with curiosity at what he would say. “Type? What type?”
“You know. Wilder. Uninhibited. More like you.”
She made a scoffing noise, rising to the challenge. “You don’t know anything about

me.”

“Yes, I do.”
Though they hadn’t finished discussing the list, she snapped closed the portfolio and

placed it on the coffee table. She crossed her arms and turned toward him. “Oh, you do?
Fine. Tell me everything you think you know about me.”

God, Leigh, do you honestly want to know what he thinks?
Part of her didn’t. The other part egged him on with sheer delight. “Go on. Tell me,

Mr. know-it-all.”

An answering rebellion filled his gaze. She’d hit something raw inside—she could

tell. He turned toward her as well, his gaze seeking and finding her eyes, her mouth, and
back to her eyes in a way Leigh found intimate. Disturbing in a sensual way that brought
her awareness of him to a height she couldn’t ignore.

“You’re intelligent as hell. Quick. You don’t forgive and forget. You’re fast to judge,

and even faster to apologize if you think you’re at fault. You like planning over
spontaneity. You prefer whisky over wine. You wear a lot of green. I’d say more than
any other color. You’re self-conscious about your hair. I notice you fuss with it a lot.” He
stopped. “Should I go on?”

Uncomfortable with his dead-on assessment, she narrowed her eyes. “Okay, so

you’ve watched me closely. That figures. You’re a cop. You’re paid to observe.”

“I was that way before I was a cop. But I have to admit I would have noticed you

anyway.”

She dipped a toe into the waters, unsure she wanted to hear why. “Oh? Why is that?”
“You’re hot.” His voice held a sexy undertone she couldn’t ignore.
Pure, delicious excitement flowed through her body. Her heartbeat quickened, her

mind swirling in disbelief. Only two words would escape. “Thank you.”

“Just because we don’t see eye to eye doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re pretty.”
Satisfaction made her smile. She’d gotten him to admit he thought she was hot. Now

that she knew it, her body reacted even more strongly. Heat filled her face.

She cleared her throat. “We’re off track. Way off. Here’s what we need to do.” She

ticked off items on her hand, finger by finger. “You were worried about me picking up
the cake from Helga Swanson’s right?”

“Yeah.”
“Celeste is going with me. So it’ll be fine.”
He crossed his arms. “Okay.”
He sounded halfway relieved, if not totally satisfied.
“And, like I said before, you can help with the bachelorette party. You can be the

bouncer.”

He leaned nearer, the amusement in his eyes evident. “Why the hell do you need a

bouncer?”

She smiled. “I’m teasing. But you said you were up for the challenge with helping,

so you can help with the party.”

His expression looked mutinous, as if the idea of hanging with a bunch of women at

a girly party offended his sensibilities. “I could back out.”

“But you won’t.”
For a half second she wondered if she’d pushed him too far. “I sense you don’t like

this stripper thing.”

“Let’s put it this way—you’d never catch me doing it.”
“Of course not.” An idea, a wicked, wicked idea flitted through her head and

demanded a voice. “You might not for a bachelorette party, but would you do a private
striptease for a woman?”

Crap. I can’t believe I asked that.
Craig’s eyes turned hungry, immediate in their interest. Yet he didn’t say a damned

thing.

“Forget I asked,” she said.
Right. The guy’s too uptight to really let loose like that.
She sighed. Damned shame.
A vision of Craig slipping out of his sheriff’s uniform and revealing his chest,

stripping his pants off, his briefs, to reveal…

Her body responded violently to the fantasy, her nipples turning berry hard, a

burning need glowing red hot within her. Suddenly she became even more aware of him,
every nuance of his virility slamming her from all sides. She tried to imagine any red-
blooded woman ignoring him and couldn’t. Swallowing hard, Leigh shifted to her feet
and closed the portfolio with a snap.

Embarrassment, an emotion she rarely experienced, caught up to her with a

vengeance. She’d lost her cool. Lost her edge. And that pissed her off. Losing the edge
made her feel too vulnerable. And she wasn’t going that route again.

Deciding to cut and run before she said another stupid thing, she hurried to pick up

her purse. “I’d better head out.”

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was dark velvet, sending warmth spreading through

her body in a tingling wave that settled low. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he said.

“Why?”
“Because my mother taught me right.”
“Uh-huh. That protective streak of yours again.”
“Sue me.”
Her plan had backfired. Sure, she’d wondered what would make him lose control. He

hadn’t.

“I don’t need a man to escort me everywhere.”
He crossed his arms. “Are you one of those women who thinks a man wanting to

protect a woman is Neanderthal?”

“Yes.”
His face went hard, as she imagined it would before an interrogation…narrowed eyes

and a tough-guy voice.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Did a guy in your past overprotect you?”
“I’m not getting into my personal life.”
“Or maybe he did more than protect you; he used it to control you. To make you feel

inadequate and inferior. Maybe you had a boyfriend who verbally abused you?”

Her mouth dropped open. He’d hit far too close to the mark, and a tiny panic

blossomed inside Leigh.

“If you were in a relationship, would you still scoff at his protection?” he asked.
She hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “It’s time for me to leave. I’m not a criminal

and under your arrest, MacGilvary.”

She stalked toward the door.
He followed, and the implacable look on his face told her he wouldn’t back down.
Within a few seconds they were in the elevator.
Leigh stared at Craig, her tension ratcheting into the double digits as he met her gaze.

His protectiveness raised her libido higher even as it ground against her independence.
His eyes penetrated, demanded, searched with a searing attention that screamed sexual
interest.

No way. Arrogant, cold, uptight Craig MacGilvary was not sizing her up for sexual

conquest. At the same time, she wondered how she could be wrong about him. She hated
the confusion. She hated not knowing his intentions.

“What are you staring at?” His question came out specific, with a frosty, almost

belligerent tone.

She leaned back along the cool elevator wall and refused to look away. Yeah, he was

probably used to people cowering under that intimidating stare. Leigh had never lost a
staredown with a man. Never. She wouldn’t start now.

“I was just wondering why you believe you can intimidate me. Why you dislike me

so much,” she said.

His eyes widened only a fraction before narrowing, lips turning tight. “That’s

ridiculous. I don’t dislike you.”

She smiled, skeptical. Right buddy. Crossing her arms, she hooked one ankle over

the other. “That’s you liking me? Giving me icy, confrontational stares at every
opportunity? Running like I’m poison whenever I get within a few feet of you?”

He mocked her stance, his arms crossed. Eyes hot, he scanned her slowly. “You’re

mouthy.”

Not surprised by his admonishment, she grinned. “I haven’t always been that way.”

Chapter Four

Leigh gasped, heart ramming into overdrive. She toppled, and two powerful arms

braced her against a strong, wide chest.

The elevator slammed to a halt. Craig fell, taking her with him. She sprawled across

his chest, his arms closing around her waist.

Lights flickered again. Sputtered.
Breathing hard, she lay stunned and supported by solid muscle.
His hard arms tightened. “You all right?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’m okay.”
“What happened?”
“Malfunction.”
She rolled her gaze. “I got that.”
She pushed upward and straddled one of his thighs. He shifted and that rock hard

thigh pressed between her legs. She sucked in a soft, startled breath as a shockwave
pulsed from that point. More than his thigh was hard. Her mons pressed against solid
man. Thick, erect, and…

Oh. My. God.
Did he get off on danger?
Of course he does. He’s a cop.
His hands clasped her waist, and her imagination flipped straight to him buried

inside her as she rode him stark naked with a capital N.

For a breathless moment, his eyes caught hers and held. She gulped as a heat wave

blistered her. This man could roast her Christmas goose anytime.

Aware she still straddled his thigh, she hurried off his lap and slowly stood. “Sorry.”
“For what?” His deep, almost raspy voice held gruff disapproval.
“For mashing you.”
“You’re light as a feather.”
His husky statement sent another spike of sexual awareness straight to her belly.

God, this was nuts. He made her feel more feminine than any other man she’d met. She
didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Embarrassment rolled over Leigh.
She hated the topsy-turvy way this cop made her feel, this out-of-sorts and off balance
predicament. Yet it hadn’t stopped her from goading him. Not so bright on her part.

The elevator groaned. “Oh, crap,” she said. “What’s that? Why did we drop like a

rock?”

The phone rang, and Craig grabbed it. From the conversation, she gathered that a

power outage guaranteed they’d be stuck here awhile longer.

When he hung up, his sigh held some exasperation, his eyes flashing. “They said it

could be at least thirty minutes.”

“That long?” She surveyed the elevator walls.
“Are you claustrophobic?”
“No. Are you?”
“Nope.”

“Was it another brown out from the heat wave?”
“Not this time. Security said a semi hit a transformer outside the building and took

some cars with it.”

She frowned. “I’m parked outside. God, I hope my car isn’t one of them.”
His mouth twitched, one of those quick and dirty Craig smiles that never quite

punched into full time status. “I doubt it.”

“Peachy.” She realized her shoulder bag had fallen off. She left it where it lay in a

corner of the elevator.

An idea sprang to life inside her, the epitome of the devil riding on her shoulder. No

matter how much she knew it was a bad idea, she went with it. Determined to see cool
and confident MacGilvary lose his composure, she eyeballed him. “If we’re going to be
here that long, I suppose we could make conversation.”

He quirked one eyebrow. “About what? Mick’s wedding?”
“We’ve spent enough time on that this evening, don’t you think? Tell me about your

life.”

Both his eyebrows went up. “That would take more than thirty minutes.”
“Start from the beginning.”
He snorted. “You’re not serious.”
She smiled, half sweet and half sour. “I am.”
To her surprise, naked vulnerability flashed through his eyes. Silence invaded the

stalled elevator.

Then something popped out of her even she didn’t expect. “Unless you can think of

something else we can do for thirty minutes.”

Flash fire heated his eyes. “Yeah, I can.”
Dumfounded, she swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected him to catch the wave so

soon, and a tiny panic swirled in her stomach along with excitement. “Such as?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” His voice purred, a combo of male

prowess and seduction.

Was he serious? Did he mean they should get down to business and do a strip tease?

“I’m not that easy. I need to know more about a man before I reveal all.”

A slow, predatory grin spread over his mouth and sent supernova sparks dancing in

her stomach. Craig’s eyes continued to ignite from within, and she dared to stare into
green depths. Jeez, why had she ever thought this guy was cold? His gaze drifted over her
tamale red sundress. She’d thought him stuffy, hadn’t wanted to work with him anymore.
Maybe she still didn’t. He might wonk up her concentration and then where would she
be?

“So, talk,” she said.
His head dropped back against the elevator wall. The long, lean lines of his powerful

body were delineated under the well-fitted polo shirt and the cut of his jeans. He made it
all look, in a word, hot.

“My life isn’t that interesting,” he said.
“That’s not what I heard.”
“What did you hear?”
How far could she push him? What would it take to drive this man over the edge?

“Celeste said of the three MacGilvary brothers you had the most hard luck. You’ve had to
work extra for everything you get.”

Boy, did she understand that.
Craig’s mouth thinned. “Mick and Trey went through plenty. I’m nothing special.

Trey’s mother abandoned him, then his stepmother killed his father. Mick’s father was a
real bastard and beat Mick’s mother.”

“Celeste told me.”
Craig went silent, and she wanted to sidle up next to him and force the issue. As if

she could. She had a feeling this man couldn’t be twisted around any woman’s finger.

Isn’t that what my sister does to men? Am I following the same path? The little voice

on her shoulder sneered, daring her to emulate her sister’s flirtatiousness.

Challenged, she continued. “So your childhood was ideal in comparison to theirs?”
He crossed his arms again, and her attention fell on strong forearms and the

undeniable bulge of well-developed biceps. “No one’s childhood is ideal. I lived with
three families in foster care before Justice adopted Craig, Mick, and me. My foster care
families couldn’t handle me.”

“Justice saw something worthy in you, obviously.”
He nodded. “Yeah. God knows what.”
Self-deprecation in this tough guy surprised the hell out of her. Vulnerability mixed

with brawn crossed with a sharp mind. Hmmm. A tantalizing combination that drew her
closer rather than drove her away.

She tried to imagine how this upstanding, uptight cop could have been an out-of-line

kid. A wound festered somewhere within him, and she sensed he guarded it like a dog
with a bone. He’s a huge, balled up pain waiting to get out.

“Why were you hard to handle?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Attitude. When I was eleven, I was put in a gifted program by my

second foster family. I excelled, but I also got stupid.”

“How?” She kept her voice soft and took a step toward him.
That grim, granite wall look erased his vulnerability. He appeared as impenetrable

and stoic as a military commander sending troops into battle. “I fell into the wrong
crowd. That’s when the third family took me on. By that time I was thirteen I already had
a juvie record.”

“Oh.” Her startled exclamation made him look up at her. She didn’t cower under his

gaze, but she felt the heat, the sternness all the way through her bones.

“Yeah. Oh.”
She took two more steps toward him, drawn by what she couldn’t see, what she

couldn’t hear in his words. “That’s when Justice adopted you?”

He shook his head. “He adopted me after I helped some older kids burgle a house.”
Surprise spiked inside her. “What?”
A smirk touched his mouth. “Most women run screaming about now.”
Yes, he’d taken her off guard, but what he revealed created the opposite effect. She

stepped forward again. She wasn’t more than a foot from him now and could almost feel
the heat coming off him.

“I don’t run. And I don’t hide,” she said.
“You should.”
“Why? You don’t hurt women. You’ve been so overprotective of me I can’t believe

it. That’s why I couldn’t figure out why you’ve spent so much time growling.”

His eyes narrowed again. “You haven’t heard me growl.”

Oh, man. An image popped into her head again. Craig lying on top of her, his hips

snug between her thighs, his cock buried deep to her womb. His feral growl as he drew
back and plunged. A wild swirl skated around in her belly. Her face heated. She felt
damp between the legs, her body reacting immediately to her fantasy.

Leigh, you are certifiable. That’s what her sister would say, anyway. Damn, Trina.
She looked away a second, unable to take the blistering attention. “So you got caught

helping some older kids commit a crime. You’re a smart guy, Craig. Why did you do it?”

Surprised touched his face. Maybe all the women he knew were too busy running to

ask him. “Bottled anger. It’s complicated. I never said I was a smart kid.”

“You were in a gifted program.”
“Intelligence doesn’t always translate to common sense.”
“I don’t think common sense had anything to do with it. You were hurting.

Wounded.”

That telltale twitch moved his mouth again. “What are you now? A psychologist?
“I had some psychology in college. A lot of it, actually. A few more courses and I

would have earned my bachelors in psych. As it is I got a humanities degree.”

He nodded. “So you’ve got me all figured out.”
“Hardly. Why do you think I’m asking all these questions?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
She felt something bristling in him, saw it rising like a tsunami. Energized, she took

one last step. “Tell me more.”

“No.”
Rejection could have hurt. Instead it propelled her into dangerous territory. “Does

this attitude you have work every time?”

“What attitude?” He frowned.
“The dangerous, uptight, simmering-beneath-the-surface stuff. You know.”
He uncrossed his arms and stepped away from the wall. In her flat sandals her height

of five feet four was dwarfed by his brawn. He might not be dark and dangerous, but he
was definitely dangerous. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, her breath quickened.
Everything inside her went on red alert. Beware. Beware. Critical mass imminent.

Of course, she ignored it and met him head on by refusing to stop. Refusing to break

eye contact.

“When did you join SWAT?” she asked.
“Not quite a year ago.”
“Have you always wanted to be a cop?”
“It wasn’t until Justice MacGilvary adopted me that I decided I’d rather be on the

right side of the law.”

She nodded. “He must have been a wonderful man.”
Unadulterated pain eased into his eyes. The strength of his emotion walloped her as

if it belonged to her. Maybe he masked deeper hurts than she could imagine. In an
unguarded moment, Leigh’s heart opened a door to him. He owned hidden depths she
wouldn’t have guessed he possessed.

“Yeah, Justice was a great dad. We miss him a hell of a lot,” Craig said softly.

Silence overwhelmed the elevator for a moment. “When I went into law enforcement I
wanted to make up for damage I’d done. SWAT gives me a chance to help people.”

A slow smile came to Leigh as her respect for him skyrocketed. “Do you save

damsels in distress from stuck elevators?”

“Not usually. But if we’re stuck here much longer, I’ll get you out of here.”
The solid determination in his voice made her believe every word. Once more

silence echoed, though it never approached an awkward stage.

“What are you going to do now that the bridal shop is closed?” he asked.
She didn’t expect the question and it loomed like an elephant in the small area. “I’m

evaluating. First I’m finishing up Celeste and Mick’s wedding, then I’m planning on
opening my own bridal store. Maybe.”

Admiration warmed his eyes. “Maybe? What’s stopping you?”
She couldn’t tell him. Revealing the secret she’d kept under wraps since she’d

moved to Gold Rush wasn’t an option. Okay, Celeste knew her secret, but she couldn’t—
wouldn’t allow a man to know.

She lied. “I need time. Who knows if I’ll even stay in Gold Rush. I’m considering a

move to Denver or one of the surrounding suburbs.”

His eyes reflected disappointment. “Celeste would hate that.”
She shrugged. “I’m still thinking about it.”
Once more a pregnant pause grew larger until he spoke again. “Does your snappy

comeback, smart-mouth attitude always work?”

A low, throbbing huskiness underlying his voice sent a fresh wave of excitement to

her center. “Not always. Most of the time. It’s working on you, isn’t it?”

He grunted. “What makes you think it’s working on me?”
Leigh tilted her head to the side. “Let’s see. You’re closer to me. You’re simmering

like a pot on boil. I think it wouldn’t take too much to toss you over the edge.”

“Over the edge? What do you think I might do?”
She smiled, fascinated by the way his eyes dilated, the center hot with

something…something she could almost feel. “I don’t know. But I can’t wait to see it.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?”
Her mouth popped open. “My parents. My sister. Celeste.” She shrugged. “Adding

you to the list is no sweat off my nose.”

“Your turn.”
His segue scrambled her synapses. “Pardon?”
“I told you a little about me. Now it’s your turn.”
Oh. She took a step back, and then another. He didn’t follow. The heat bubbling like

a dormant volcano barely subsided. “My life isn’t nearly as complicated as yours.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”
She lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “I come from a comfortable living. I had

pretty much everything I wanted. Got good grades in school. I was a cheerleader in high
school. Dated the varsity quarterback. That sort of thing.”

Bemusement covered his face. “You’re kidding, right?”
She smiled. “You thought no one had that life?”
“That’s the size of it.”
She took a couple of more steps back until she’d retreated all the way. She injected

rebelliousness into her voice. “I had everything I could want. Nothing lacking.”

“What’s lacking now?”
She licked her lips. His gaze caught the movement and held, and he took a step

closer. Lord, now he was playing her game. And she didn’t like it one damned bit.

“You know the answer already.”
Another step, and Craig stood within twelve inches. “No, I don’t. Tell me.”
“The bridal shop, like I said.”
“Funds?”
She winced. “Sort of.”
“You can’t get a loan?”
“I could. I might have to.”
“Huh. Why do I have a feeling there’s more to that story than you’re telling?”
Backed up to the wall literally and figuratively, she said, “Like I said, I need more

time to decide how to proceed.”

He nodded. “In the meantime you’re meddling in other people’s business.”
Was the air getting stuffy in here? “I’m not meddling.”
“Right.”
Indignant, she inched nearer. Six or so inches separated them now. “Because I’m

interesting in knowing the real Craig MacGilvary.”

“Why?” His voice lowered to a toe-curling rumble. “Why do you care?”
She shook her head, unable to voice for once what she felt.
As he stared down at her, he said, “You know that question you asked me earlier

about doing a strip tease?”

Her whole body tingled. “Yes?”
“If was involved with a woman, I’d do a strip tease for her.”
She gulped. “Down to your underwear?” God, her mouth was dry. She licked her

lips.

His gaze tangled with hers, then landed on her mouth, as intimate as a touch. “Down

to naked skin.”

Oh, God. Was it hot in here or what?
Her mouth popped open.
The sexual tension between them pinged, taut as a string drawn between two points,

and so delicious she couldn’t resist. Damn it all, she was tired of waiting. Bare inches
separated them, and she closed the gap, sliding her hand behind his neck and bringing
him down.

Their lips met.
She’d expected tentative. Hesitant. She’d have to tip him over the rim into passion.
God, how wrong she was.
Craig’s hands swept into her hair as he cupped her head, his lips meeting, twisting to

find one fit and then another. Sensations bombarded Leigh. Muscles rippled along his
body as he tasted her again and again. As if he’d finally found the proper fit, his mouth
settled, seduced, and took control. His arms encircled her waist, his hands found purchase
on her butt. He drew her against his hips, and she gasped into his mouth as his hard on
pressed her stomach. Fluid and moving, his response blew her away.

Though she tried to resist the flare of pure desire burning in her belly, her heart

slammed in her chest, and her instinct to mesh with him exploded. Her body didn’t feel in
her control anymore. If it was, her knees wouldn’t quiver like jelly, her thoughts wouldn’t
be swallowed by overwhelming physical sensation.

Craig’s lips demanded, throwing her off guard. While she’d wanted a taste of his

passion and wanted to ignite the fire she’d suspected lived inside him—well—this, this

surpassed anything she’d imagined.

She sank into the pleasure as his arms braced her against the sculpted lines of his

chest. As her fingers smoothed over the hard muscles of his shoulders, his virility and
strength increased her urgent need. She moaned softly as his tongue swept over her lips,
then explored deep into her mouth, hot and caressing. A hot wire seemed to be connected
from their mouths to deep inside her core, making her desire crackle like a live wire.

Each warm thrust against her own tongue made her crave a deeper connection. He

groaned low, and there was no doubt she’d affected him. She couldn’t stop touching him,
learning the hard contours of his pecs, the strong line of his arms and shoulders. He
burned her up.

He walked her backwards and they bumped a wall. Without hesitation, he wedged

one hard thigh between her legs and pressed her mound. Desire streaked lightning-hot to
her center. She shivered as he started a rhythm, shifting her so his thigh pressed and
released against her clit.

Oh, yes. Nothing had felt this good in a long time. Delighted, she urged him on, her

kiss unrelenting. His hand searched, clenched on her hips as he tugged her against his
body until every unyielding masculine line impressed upon her senses. Awhirl in
breathless desire, she arched against him.

When he dragged his lips from hers, he gazed at her through half-closed lids, eyes

glazed with sexual hunger. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, to her cheeks, cupping her
face to tilt her head back. His lips skimmed her neck, and she shivered and moaned softly
in helpless pleasure as his mouth teased the hollow of her throat.

God, he felt so good, his kisses stirring frantic feelings she couldn’t name but wanted

desperately to quench. Nothing had prepared her for the gnawing, relentless quickening
between her thighs, the throb that burst to life. Her breasts felt fuller, nipples tight and
sensitive. An ache centered high in her womb.

His palm swept over her shoulder, brushing the spaghetti strap down. A second or

two later—she couldn’t be sure—the stretchy bodice sagged and cool air hit her naked
breast. She didn’t have time to think. His hot palm cupped her breast, held it reverently.
Leigh writhed, shocked at his boldness and incapable of asking him to stop. Not wanting
him to stop.

When his fingers came up and gently clasped her nipple, the sweet, mind-blowing

sensation made her moan. His lips trailed across her cheek to her ear where his hot breath
puffed erotically. She shivered in excitement, caught in the moment.

Craig lowered his head, and she knew what he intended to do. He was going to—
Oh. Oh, yes.
His tongue swept over her other nipple, teasing it sweetly. Nothing had ever felt so

out-of-control. Insane. Beautiful. As his fingers tugged at her nipple, his tongue tortured
the other. Pleasure ignited inside her like a slow burning fuel cell. She combed her
fingers through his short hair, tugging his head closer.

Heaven help her. They were in an elevator. Making out. It blew her mind, her body

responding wildly and without caution. She knew if he pulled up her dress and
unbuttoned his pants…oh, man. She ached for him. Wanted him inside her with a
mindless passion she’d never experienced for another man.

Craig’s tongue teased relentlessly, dancing over sensitive flesh. She cried out and

clutched his head.

“Craig. Oh, wait.”
He moaned softly, suckling. Each tug sent a hot spike of desire straight to her belly

and down to her clit. She writhed on his thigh, the rhythm never slowing as he drove her
higher and higher, arousal bounding through her with reckless abandon. She moaned,
holding him as his hot tongue caressed her nipple again and again. It felt so good. She’d
been so wrong about his passion…so wrong—

The elevator pinged.
Craig released her immediately.
She propped back to the wall, her knees unsteady, her heart pounding. Her lips felt

swollen, her body aching with need. Craig’s chest heaved up and down, his eyes green
fire. His fists clenched at his sides.

He stepped away, turning his back on her for a second as he scrubbed one hand over

his military short hair. She quickly slipped the spaghetti straps back onto her shoulders
and covered her breasts.

“Christ, Leigh.” His voice was scratchy, blurred with passion and unfulfilled release.

When he turned back to her, she couldn’t help but take a look.

Yep. He still had an erection. And lordy, it was a big one. She shook her head,

shocked even at the blunt, sexual direction of her thoughts, at the hunger that etched a
deep groove into her brain.

“Yeah,” Leigh managed to say.
“Fuck.” His voice rasped. “Did I hurt you?”
She blinked. “What? No.”
“You asked me to stop, and I…couldn’t.” He swallowed hard. “That’s never

happened to me before.”

Whoa. She found his confession and apology mind-blowing.
The lights flickered again, and when the elevator lurched downward, Craig moved

fast. He snatched her to his chest, his grip protective as his arms sheltered her.

And that made it worse. Because now that she’d pushed him over the edge, she knew

the passion inside him. It seared her from the inside out, demanding a fulfillment. When
the elevator opened on the ground floor, a repairman stood at the opening.

“Hey, you guys all right?” the older man asked.
Leigh moved out of Craig’s arms. “We’re fine. That was faster than thirty minutes.”
The man’s grey eyebrows twitched, and then a knowing smile crossed his mouth.

“Sorry.”

Craig took her arm and led her from the elevator. “Thanks, man. We appreciate it.”
Within seconds they discovered her car safe in the parking lot, but the mess at the

front of the building caught their attention. A slew of fire engines and other emergency
vehicles worked the accident.

She climbed into her car, still flustered as hell and feeling scrambled. “See you.”
He nodded as she slammed the car door. “I’d better go see if I can help.” He nodded

toward the wreck.

“Of course.”
Awkwardness erased the sensual haze surrounding them, and as he bid her goodbye,

she drove away. Mind befuddled, she headed home with a million questions spinning
around in her head. She’d wanted to witness Craig losing control, and oh, my God it was
amazing. The passion she’d felt with him, the incredible sensual movements, the

Chapter Five

Craig’s phone rang late that night while he lay on the couch watching a sitcom. The

show’s pitiful attempt to be funny bored the hell out of him, and his brain still felt
scrambled from his encounter with Leigh in the elevator. He reached for the cordless
phone, half wishing it was Leigh.

“Hello?” The silence on the other end made him pause as well. “Hello?”
“Mr…uh, MacGilvary?” It was a teenage boy’s voice, tentative and yet familiar.
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“Dane.”
Dane Kanter.
“Hey Dane, how’s it going?” Craig sat up straight, concern instantly bringing him on

full alert. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Uh, no. I got a problem.”
Damn it. Craig’s fingers tightened on the receiver. “What’s wrong?”
“My mother. It’s her, not my father.”
The boy’s incoherent answer made Craig frown. Craig took a slow breath and paced

to the window that overlooked Dane’s house. The house was dark. “I don’t understand.”

“When you caught me, I was buying the liquor for my mother. She’s a freakin’

alcoholic. Dad…he’s tried to get her into some sort of program…he says she’s going to
kill someone at the hospital some day.”

Craig frowned. “Did your mother tell you to buy the alcohol?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell your father?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he may look tough and act tough, but he’s a wuss. He can’t really do a

thing when the time comes.”

Great. He wanted to grimace, to shout at the screwed up family that put this boy in

this position in the first place. He made a rapid fire decision. “Dane, you can’t buy
alcohol for your mother again. It’s illegal.”

Dane laughed. “Especially because my dad said it reflects badly on him and mom.”
Jesus. Craig wanted to march over there and filet the parents over hot coals. He had

to report this to Child Protective Services.

Craig cleared his throat. He’d told this boy he could call him for help, but the boy

seemed to want conversation more than anything.

“Dane, where are you calling from?”
“A friend’s house.”
Craig looked at the clock. Eleven. “Do your parents know where you are?”
“Yeah. They don’t mind if I hang late with Doug.”
“Where does Doug live?”
“MacAdams Street.”
Craig knew the street, just two south of his in a good neighborhood. Rather than ask

questions he knew would drive the boy away, Craig switched gears.

“You have many friends?” Craig asked.
“No. Doug’s my best friend. I know a few other people but…”
“But?”
“I dunno. The rest of the kids in school are idiots, you know?”
Craig smiled. “I remember.”
“Yeah, right. You’re like…what? Fifty.”
Craig snorted a laugh. “Uh, no. Not even close.”
“Really?” The boy sounded believably incredulous. “You’re losing your hair

already.”

Once more Craig smiled. “I know. My hairline has been receding since I was twenty-

five.”

“Huh.”
A pause stretched until Craig decided to pose another question. “Do you participate

in any school activities?”

“Me? No. Well, I used to be in this chess club in junior high. And a science club.

Decided I didn’t want to be a nerd.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd.”
Craig didn’t want this kid thinking he didn’t have choices in life. Memories exploded

inside Craig of a time he’d rather forget. Things he hadn’t told Leigh. His chest ached
suppressing an emotion he hadn’t felt in years. A desire to rage against a machine. To get
really pissed at the unfair things in life. But doing that had screwed up his life as a kid.
Anger and being out of control had helped get his ass thrown in jail when he was a kid.
He couldn’t go down that path now.

“You ever get really mad?” Craig asked.
“Uh…yeah. Why?”
“What do you do when you get mad?”
“Smoke.”
Ah, shit.
Rather than press the kid or tell him it wasn’t healthy for him, Craig kept the

conversation on more neutral ground. “That’s all?”

“Sometimes I go in my room. What? You ain’t going to tell me not to smoke?”
“You’d do it anyway, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“It isn’t good for you. I know that and you know that. And since you already know

that, I’m not going to tell you to stop.”

The kid paused. I’ll bet he’s never heard anyone approach him on the subject quite

that way.

“What else do you do when you’re mad?” Craig asked.
“Go in my room.”
“And think?”
“Sometimes.”
“What else?”
“Hang with friends.”
“You said you don’t have many friends.”
“I met a few new friends a couple of weeks back.”
Instinct roared to life inside Craig. Shit. The boy had a fucked-up family. That

probably meant whatever friends he’d picked up weren’t the best.

Gang members? He almost asked, then relented. He didn’t want to scare the boy

away. “There’s a place in town you can go. A sort of boy’s club. It’s run by several
groups in town. They have after-school programs.” Craig waited for a response but didn’t
get one. “Hell, they even have a chess group and science nerds. All the boys are from
homes with problems.”

“I don’t have no problems.”
“You don’t call getting arrested for shoplifting a problem?”
“I didn’t call so you could give me a fuckin’ lecture.”
Whoa. At twelve this kid already had a gutter mouth. Craig winced. This shouldn’t

have surprised him. Craig remembered he’d spouted a whole gambit of profanity by the
time he was this boy’s age. Also, as a cop, he’d heard worse from kids of all ages.

“Why did you call me?” Craig sank onto the couch.
“You said I could.”
Ah, typical almost-teen rhetoric. “Okay. Well, you can still call me any time. The

offer still stands.”

“I gotta go.” Dane’s sullen voice said Craig may have pushed too far.
The line went dead.

* * * *

Lights flickered in the El Torro County Sheriff’s Department for the third time that

morning. Craig glanced up at the florescent tubes in the ceiling as he sat at a desk using a
computer.

“Damn.” Trey walked by on the way to the coffee machine. “Olivia just told me the

electricity is going on and off at the library.”

“Overload. Simmels Electric said so many people are using the air conditioning it’s

taxing the system.” Craig couldn’t deny it. A late spring thunderstorm threatened, with
the humidity rising as the hours went by. “Seems to be making people giddy and lawless,
too.”

“Giddy and lawless?” Kelso asked from the corner as he looked up from a file. He

grinned as if Craig had said something funny.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Craig pushed away from the desk. “People are driving like

fools and the excuses they’ve made up for speeding lately are stupid as hell.”

“And that’s unusual how?” Trey asked.
Craig felt grumpy. Maybe he should shut up. Yeah, Leigh and I were giddy and

lawless in that friggin’ elevator.

“Heard you were stuck in the elevator with Leigh Strong.” Kelso slid a file back into

the file cabinet. “For thirty whole minutes. Bet that was torture.”

The teasing in his fellow cop’s voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“Sure was.” Craig had to agree. Anything else—hell, the truth—and he’d start

thinking way too much about Leigh again. About what he’d revealed to her mentally and
physically.

“Torture?” Trey scowled and took a sip of his coffee. “Why?”
“Give me a break.” Kelso walked toward the, a huge grin splitting his dark face.

“Don’t play dumb. The man has a royal case of the ass every time he’s around her or
someone mentions her.”

Craig stood and placed his hands on his hips. “That’s because everybody keeps

bringing her up. I’m sorry I even mentioned it to you, Kelso. See you guys later.”

Before Trey or Kelso could say a word, Craig headed to the motor pool where he

picked up a cruiser to start his shift. As he drove down Main, he muttered out loud,
“Friggin’ people. Always sticking their nose in my business.”

Family was like that, but he didn’t have to like it. If he admitted it to himself, since

last Friday, Craig had trouble keeping the elevator “event” out of his mind. It wasn’t
every day a man was caught in an elevator for thirty minutes with a woman that aroused
him so strongly he couldn’t resist her.

Like clockwork, as he drove, the incident played in his mind like a crime unfolding

in vivid detail. The way she’d taunted him with probing questions. The way she’d teased
him by moving in closer until he wanted to touch her. The way Leigh had felt against
him—hips tight to his cock, breasts round and tempting. The way she’d challenged him
until he’d almost kissed her. When she’d kissed him, he’d come unglued.

What had blown his mind more than anything was his lack of control. Once her lips

touched his, he’d savored her warmth and didn’t look back. Savage need had thrown him
into chaos until he’d feasted on Leigh’s excitement, feeding his arousal. She’d tasted
delicious. The sensation of her nipple under his tongue and lips had driven him crazy.

He’d forgotten every reason they shouldn’t be involved.
He eased through the intersection ahead on the green light. Two other cars sat on the

opposite side at the red light. A second later an old model sedan roared away from the red
light. He didn’t have time to react.

Tremendous force slammed the cruiser on the driver’s side.
Pain flashed through his skull.
Darkness descended.

* * * *

“What’s next with the wedding plans?” Mary Wickes-Banovic asked Leigh and

Celeste as they sat in a booth in The Pancake House during lunch.

The restaurant bounced with perky pop music, the volume loud.
“Leigh?” Celeste tapped her arm. “You all right?”
“Daydreaming.” Leigh wished she hadn’t admitted that as her friends smiled at her,

curiosity in their eyes.

“We could see that,” Mary said as she leaned forward slightly, her voice lowered to a

conspiracy tone. “About who?”

Leigh glanced at her friends and felt gauche. Celeste’s shiny, long red-gold hair hung

in glorious curls over her shoulders. Mary’s eyes sparkled with happiness behind her
glasses, and she placed her hand over her nine months pregnant stomach. Leigh wore an
emerald green halter top, shorts and athletic shoes.

How could Leigh put this? She couldn’t blurt out that Craig’s kisses Friday night had

blown her away, and trashed her ideas about him. When he’d kissed her—hell, practically
made love to her in the elevator—she’d learned just how sexual he was.

“Not a who,” Leigh said. “What. I have a ton to do.”
“Is Craig helping you?” Mary asked, that wicked smile wider.
Leigh kept a straight face, determined to act as if she could care less one way or the

other. “Yep.”

Celeste gave Leigh a teasing smile. “Mary, you should have seen how the two of

them bantered back and forth when we got together the other day. And they made
smoothies together.” Celeste waggled her eyebrows. “What did you talk about then?
Hmm?”

Leigh could tease with the best of them, but now the tables were turned onto her; she

squirmed. She decided to say something to shock them. “We talked about orgasms.”

Leigh grinned shamelessly as Celeste and Mary’s mouths dropped open.
“Chocolate Cum Cake. That sort of thing,” Leigh said in clarification.
Celeste and Mary broke out in laughter.
“Is he still giving you a hard time about Ely?” Mary asked, her gaze innocent.
Leigh’s face heated. He’d almost given her something hard, all right. She’d lain

awake night after night replaying what they’d done in the elevator, and each and every
night she’d had to relieve the ache between her thighs with her own touch. The man had
driven her crazy.

“I told him Celeste and I would go together to see Helga Swanson and he’s finally

okay with that.” Leigh shrugged. “Not that it matters. I’m a grown woman and can do
whatever the hell I want.”

Celeste took a sip of her iced tea. “I think it’s kind of sweet he’s worried about you.”
Leigh grunted. “He’s just being Craig. He’d be like that with any woman.”
“Sure,” Mary said, a sideways smile betraying her amusement. “Any woman at all.”
“I’m glad he was with you when the elevator stopped. That must have been scary,”

Celeste said.

Leigh propped her chin on her hands. “I could have handled it.”
Celeste leaned back, ice tea in hand. “Sure you could’ve, but there’s nothing like

having a cop near when you get into a jam.”

Leigh refused to acknowledge that. “He’s one of those macho, overprotective types.

He probably wants to marry and keep his wife barefoot and pregnant.”

Celeste and Mary glanced at each other, then back at her.
“I don’t know.” Mary placed a hand over her stomach. At nine months, she was

ready to pop. “Craig is like his brothers—he’s protective—it comes with his job and
personality. But he’s never seemed…” She shrugged, eyes serious. “I don’t believe he’s
that much of a throwback.”

“I agree.” Celeste sipped her tea.
Fantastic. Her friends had ganged up on her. “He’s all right, I guess.”
Mary’s grin sprouted, a glow high in her cheeks. “I thought Dace was arrogant, and

all the time I was falling in love with him.”

Leigh’s face filled with heat. “Big difference is, I’m not even in like with Craig. He’s

not my type.”

Again her friends gazed at her like she’d said something completely nuts.
Mary sighed. “No. Not your type at all. I’m completely in love with Dace, but even I

have to admit that Craig is gorgeous in a sort of dangerous way. How can gorgeous not
be your type?”

Leigh scoffed. “I’m never out for just a pretty face. The man has to have a good

sense of humor. A soft side. Craig’s too…cold.”

Too cold like Chad?
Celeste nodded. “He does have a real edge, but I’ve never thought of him as cold.”

Okay, so she was lying through her teeth. She’d thought he was cold, but then found

the sexual heat inside him.

Mary shook her head. “If you don’t like him, why did you ask him to help you with

wedding plans?”

“You know me,” Leigh said as the waitress left their bill. “I like a challenge.”
Celeste’s phone rang and as she answered it, Mary and Leigh continued talking.
“Oh, no. Is he all right?” Celeste’s soft voice broke into their conversation. Leigh

and Mary turned to their friend. “Okay.” Celeste nodded. “Right. Okay. I’ll tell them. I
love you, too. Bye.” She closed her cell phone.

Dread settled into Leigh’s stomach. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Celeste’s warm eyes were filled with genuine worry. “It’s Craig. He’s been in a car

accident, and he’s hurt.”

* * * *

Waiting is hell.
Leigh had never entered a hospital to see a patient. Mick, Trey, and Celeste and

Arlene sat among the plethora of chairs and couches in the waiting room. Olivia would
have been there, but she was stuck at work. A half dozen other people concerned for
other patients also filled the waiting area. Mary had a doctor’s appointment and Dace was
on the scene of the accident that had put Craig here in the first place. Leigh covered her
face and took a deep breath.

“All right?” Celeste asked as she sat down next Leigh and handed her a piping hot

decaffeinated coffee from a kiosk not far away.

Being singled out made Leigh stiffen. All her friend’s gazes turned to her. They

stared at her expectantly. Emotions tossed inside her like balls rattling loose and free.
Control hung by a tether, and she didn’t dare lose it. Worry, fear, anxiety all gathered
until she found their heaviness overpowering. Steady and sure, she sipped the coffee in a
mechanical manner, as if the movement would somehow remove the anxiety that flowed
through her in sickening waves.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Her reply to Celeste came out quiet.
Mick shifted on his chair next to Celeste. He didn’t seem to have Leigh’s inhibitions.

“Damn it, what is taking so long?”

Celeste patted his back but didn’t speak. Maybe she understood that placating him

wouldn’t work.

“He’s going to be fine.” Trey’s calm statement sounded assured, his face composed.
Leigh glanced at Arlene and noted the woman’s brittle appearance, as if uncertainty

wore her away, particles of sand scattered by the wind.

A tall, young doctor strode toward them. Arlene, Trey and Mick stood immediately.
“Dr. Perry,” Mick said, “Is Craig all right?”
The doctor smiled and nodded. “He sustained a mild concussion and he’s bruised

some ribs. He’s going to be sore as hell. We’ll keep him overnight, but he should be on
his way home tomorrow.”

Collective sighs of relief and grins broke out. Mutters of “thank God” flowed

between Craig’s family members.

“When can we seem him?” Arlene asked.
The doctor suggested three people at a time, so Trey, Arlene and Mick hurried off to

see Craig while Celeste and Leigh stayed in the waiting room and sipped their coffee.

Leigh and Celeste stayed silent for a long time before Celeste sat up straight and

burst out with, “Oh crap. I forgot to call everyone and let them know how Craig is.”

While Celeste made calls to Dace, Mary, Olivia, and Kelso, Leigh stared into space

and allowed relief to flow through her. Now they knew Craig was all right, the room
seemed claustrophobic. Her stomach tossed at the clean scent. She glanced around at the
brown, cheap carpet, the flat screen television on the wall turned to a twenty-four hour
news channel. All of it seemed too much. Too stark, too raw, too wounded.

Celeste closed her cell phone with a snap. “Thank goodness he’s okay.”
“He was lucky. If that old lady had plowed through the intersection any faster…”
As it was, the eight-six year old woman who had stepped on the gas petal because

she’d become confused, well…she’d gotten off with minor bumps. A fine and a ticket
would follow. Her elderly husband and two daughters already had approached Arlene in
the emergency room earlier, contrite for their badly shaken mother. Arlene assured them
Craig would be fine, and kind and classy woman that she was, had inquired after the
elderly woman’s health.

“Old Mrs. Patterson is probably worried Craig will sue her,” Celeste said.
Leigh scoffed. “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”
Celeste’s smile grew large. “Of course not.” Her smile melted as she looked at

Leigh. “Say, what’s wrong? Are you still worried about him? He’s tough. Besides, you
can rib him about an old lady taking down a big, tough cop.”

Leigh shook her head. “I’m not used to situations like this. No one in my family

works in dangerous occupations. I’m not ready for the…”

“Worry? Stress?” Celeste wasn’t teasing, her eyes serious.
“I wouldn’t wish anything bad on Craig.”
Celeste tossed a strand of hair back. “Its okay to admit you’re worried. I’m your

friend, remember? It wasn’t casual concern on your face.”

Crap.
Leigh’s temper upped a notch. “I’m concerned. Get over it.”
Celeste closed her eyes a second before pinning Leigh with a dubious expression that

said she didn’t believe a word coming out of Leigh’s mouth. “Okay, have it your way. Do
you think because you’re used to junketing around the world by yourself that nothing
should disconcert you?”

Leigh shrugged. “Well, nothing much does worry me.” She glanced down the long,

green corridor where medical personnel and patients milled around. “I’ve always been
certain that things work out for the best.” She tried a smile but it felt brittle. Her mind
jumped to an awful memory. “I’ll tell you when I worried big time. When that psycho ex
of yours took you hostage. I about freaked when I saw him holding a gun on you. I
remember how anxiety-ridden Mick was when I told him your ex was holding you
hostage.”

Celeste wriggled her left hand and her engagement ring twinkled with fire under the

lights. “Not an adventure I care to repeat, thank you very much.”

Leigh sipped the coffee and frowned. “What is it with MacGilvary women getting

into trouble?” She referred not only to Celeste’s stalker, but the man who’d terrorized the
MacGilvary clan to get to Trey. Olivia, in love with Trey, found herself caught up in the
drama. “Stalkers, bombers, you name it. I don’t want to catch the curse.”

Leigh understood how callous it sounded. Realization that she couldn’t rid herself of

anxiety for Craig stabbed at her like a knife and ate into her ability to stay calm and
collected. It also loosened her lips.

“It’s not a curse, Leigh.” Celeste’s disapproval rang clear. “I love being a member of

this family. It’s a true blessing.”

What could she say? Her heart tightened until she couldn’t speak.
Finally, she sighed. “I’m sorry. What I said was inappropriate.”
Celeste smiled. “It’s okay. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re stressed.”
Damn it. She had been stressed and was still stressed. The reason for it pissed her

off. She cared for a man who she shouldn’t. A man who at the core probably wouldn’t
like her if he knew all her dirty little secrets.

A man that flipped her sexual switch like nobody’s business.
Not long after, Celeste and Leigh popped in to see Craig before they moved him.

Leigh’s emotions ping ponged as soon as she saw him sprawled on the table, propped up
at the head but with his eyes closed. Even so, he looked like a big, capable lion. Clad in a
ubiquitous hospital gown and covered to his waist with a sheet, he was pale, but showed
no other signs of injury marring his starkly rugged features.

His eyes snapped open. “Hey ladies.”
Celeste greeted him with a warm clasp of his hand and a kiss on the cheek. “Hey

yourself.”

“Double that.” Leigh stood on the opposite side of the table. “You look awful.”
“Gee thanks.” His grin said he didn’t take offense.
“We just stopped by to say how glad we are that you’ll be all right.” Celeste

squeezed his hand and released him. “Better let you go so you can get your rest.”

“Are you kidding?” Craig’s smile stayed. “They’re going to wake me up every two

hours.”

Smiling, Celeste said, “I’d stay a little longer, but I have to head back to work.” She

glanced at Leigh. “Can I give you a lift?”

Leigh hesitated. Something inside her demanded that she stay a little longer, to make

sure he really was in one piece. “No. I’ll stay a few more minutes.”

Celeste nodded, her gaze curious. “Okay, I’ll see you guys later. Be well, Craig.”
Craig’s expression remained light-hearted. “Takes a lot more than an elderly lady to

damage a MacGilvary.”

Celeste laughed. “Yeah, yeah.” And then she left.
When Leigh stayed silent, Craig still smiled. “What’s wrong? Why are you still

here?”

Leigh blinked, startled by his joviality. “What’s wrong? You call me a risk taker? I’d

say you weren’t paying attention while you were driving and that’s what’s landed you
here. You were knocked out cold and you’re lying there like nothing happened, no
biggie, huh? Well, that’s what’s wrong. Maybe next time you want to call me a pot, better
check the temperature on your kettle, buddy.”

He rubbed his temple. “Not exactly true. I was knocked out, but I woke up while

they were loading me in the ambulance. But thanks for your concern.”

The light had left his eyes, anger now a part of his gaze.
Remorse sideswiped her, and she swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight. God, Leigh,

you are being such an ass. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come off all bitchy.”

Craig’s eyes went serious. “Thanks for coming to see me. You didn’t have to do

that.” When she didn’t speak, he asked softly, “Why did you stay?”

She tried to sidestep the chaos threatening inside her. She gazed at his big, strong

hand so near to hers. “How’s the head?”

“Aches. But it’s not bad.”
“Not the first time you’ve had a concussion?”
“It’s the first time. I’ve never been hurt enough or sick enough to stay in a hospital

before. This is all new for me.”

A reluctant smile touched her mouth. “So you’re the lucky type.” Leigh heard the

uncertainty in her own voice. “I hate seeing a man as vital and strong as you like this.”

Her face burned as his gaze traveled over her face. “Any man, or me in particular?”
She touched his hand with a feather-light caress. “Just you.”
Silence echoed between them before Craig clasped her hand and brought it up to his

lips for a kiss. “Don’t worry about me.”

She lifted one brow and found her sense of humor. “Me? Worry about the Viking? I

don’t think so. Besides, I have a feeling you don’t like people to fuss over you.”

“Got that right.” The softness in his voice sounded wistful. Maybe Craig hadn’t

experienced a woman’s full-fledged concern—other than his mother’s, of course.

“Perhaps neither one of us knows how to act,” she said.
His grin returned, and she noted that she’d never seen him smile this much before.
“Socially awkward is my middle name. I can talk to people when I’m giving them a

ticket, but not at a party.” He sounded sincere and almost sad.

“You?” She kept her tone teasing. “No way.”
“Smart ass.”
She lowered her voice. “But you liked my ass the other day in the elevator.”
He laughed, then groaned. “Come here.”
Wary, she edged closer. “Why?”
“Come here.” He growled the words softly, the husky flavor sexy and demanding.

“Closer.”

Curious she leaned over him. “I dunno. You scare me.”
He made a rumbling noise low in his throat, his words a sensual pure as he said, “I

didn’t just enjoy your butt. I loved it. And I loved kissing you, too.”

The heat in his eyes blew her away. “Amazing.”
Someone cleared their throat. Leigh jumped about a mile high.
A nurse stood nearby, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Time to take you up to your

room, Mr. MacGilvary.”

“I’ll get out of your hair,” Leigh said, half grateful for the interruption. “See you

tomorrow.”

As she made a mad dash to escape, she kicked herself for promising she’d see him

tomorrow.

Chapter Six

Craig’s body protested as he eased onto the couch at his place the day after the

accident. He groaned as aches echoed from his feet to his head. The last time he’d felt
this out of it was six years ago when a bout of flu had taken him down for ten whole
days. There was no way this accident would keep him away from work that long if he had
anything to say about it.

Damn, this sucks.
He’d come home late in the afternoon after the doctor had said he could go home.

His mother picked him up from the hospital, full of motherly concern, and delivered him
to his place. She’d left a virtual tank of chicken soup—somehow she’d gotten it into her
head that chicken soup cured concussions, too—before rushing back to work. Her
admonishments to call her or his brothers if he needed anything rang in his sore head. A
night of interrupted sleep had also made him damned grouchy. His supervisor had
specified that he couldn’t come back to work for at least ten days.

The doorbell rang. He eased off the couch and groaned again as his ribs protested.

Fuck with a capital F. He hated this.

He eased to the doorway, taking his time. He glanced through the peephole.

Surprised blindsided him as he saw Leigh standing there. Since their awkward meeting at
the hospital yesterday, he’d figured he wouldn’t see her for a while. Never mind that he’d
seen worry on her pretty face. That had taken him off guard and at the same time gratified
him. A part of him had liked her concern way too much.

Craig’s pulse stuttered, then pumped fast through is veins. Why was she here?
She said she would see you tomorrow, idiot.
He backed away from the peephole, acknowledging that he liked that she’d come to

see him. Shit. Having her near was starting to become a hazard to his determination to
stay cool and collected. Ever since she’d appeared in his life, Leigh had driven him to
heights of craziness. He sucked in a breath and opened the door.

“Hey.” Her smile was tentative, her eyes warm and her mouth a soft temptation. “I

thought you might need some cheering up.”

She was dressed in blue shorts and a white t-shirt with Grand Canyon printed on it.

Her hair was a tumble just at her shoulders, and she looked pretty as hell. She handed him
a basket wrapped in red cellophane.

“Uh, thanks. Come in.”
She shifted from one foot to the other, her voice higher, gaze darting anxiously past

him into the living room. “I shouldn’t really impose on you. How do you feel?”

“Like someone backed over me with me with my cruiser. Otherwise, I’m good.”
Those deep, beautiful eyes widened in unexpected and clear distress. “No one’s here

to look after you?”

“No.” He smiled. “Come in and I’ll inspect this basket.”
Still as hesitant as a mouse approaching a suspiciously placed piece of cheese, she

stepped through the doorway and followed him to the kitchen.

“What’s in here?” He placed the tall basket on the kitchen counter and stared through

the cellophane.

“Open it and see, silly.”
Silly? No man or beast or beautiful woman had dared to call him silly. He raised one

eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead, he opened the cellophane with quick fingers and
peeled it back to see the treasure within. He felt like a damn kid opening presents on
Christmas Day.

He yanked until the cellophane broke under his demand. “Hot chocolate.” He lifted

out items one by one. “Godiva chocolates, MandM’s. Chocolate flavored coffee beans.
Chocolate cookies.” He winced and turned to look at her, dreading what he had to say.

“What’s wrong?” Her apprehensive expression returned.
“First, thank you for thinking of me. Second, I should have looked through the

cellophane more closely before I opened it.”

Her slightly fuller bottom lip pouted the smallest increment. He wanted to lick it. His

groin heated. Oh, God.

“You’re welcome. But why did you need to look closer first?”
He planted his hands on his hips. “I’m allergic to chocolate.”
Her right hand went to her mouth. “Oh, crap.”
Her wide eyes and total dismay made him smile.
Leigh’s eyes went stormy. “Don’t you dare laugh. I could have given you

anaphylactic shock.”

“It’s not that bad. I can eat a little chocolate, but I break out in hives. Never gets

worse than that.”

“Still…”
Her soft dismay, the utter self-contempt that swept over her features surprised him.
“It’s no sweat. I could share this with Trey and Mick. Or you could eat it yourself.”
“No way.” One long-fingered hand, nails painted soft pink, fluttered in dismissal. “I

don’t like chocolate. Share it with your brothers.” She put her purse on a bar stool, the
sound a solid thunk.

“You’re kidding? A woman who doesn’t like chocolate. Sacrilege.”
She sighed. “I know. Bizarre. That must have been bad when you were a kid, though.

Kids always seem to love chocolate.”

“I did. That’s not when I became allergic, though.”
Ah, shit. I shouldn’t have confessed.
She gripped the back of the bar stool chair and then leaned on it. “Oh?”
Heat rose in his face. “When I was twenty-one my girlfriend told me chocolate was

an aphrodisiac.”

Leigh’s eyes widened, a little oh of surprise.
“Yeah,” he said. “She had this jar of body chocolate. When I got a taste of it…” He

shrugged.

He couldn’t help wanting to be closer. He moved nearer, watched her eyes fill with a

combination of caution and maybe excitement.

He allowed her imagination to run with it and saw her pupils dilate. Oh, yeah. Her

imagination was definitely running with it.

“Oh,” was her breathless response. Her chest rose and fell on quicker breaths.

“Maybe I should go.”

“Stay. Can I get you a drink?”
“No. Thanks.” She turned away and headed toward the couch, as if she couldn’t wait

to get the hell out of his airspace.

Time to confront. “You okay? You’re as jittery as a shoplifter.”
She wandered to his sliding glass window and gazed out. “Me? You’re paranoid

MacGilvary.”

“I might be. That doesn’t mean nobody’s after me.”
She laughed softly, looking at him with a sardonic smile. “Old joke.”
“Worked didn’t it? You’re smiling.”
“Does this type of interrogation always work?”
“Usually.” He wandered her way, drawn to her. “Look, don’t sweat it about the

chocolate. I appreciate the thought. It counts.”

Leigh turned a more confident, teasing look toward him. “How are you really

feeling?”

“Beat up. But I’ll be back to work in a few days.”
“Good. I’m glad it turned out well.” Her nervous expression evaporated. “I could

have accidentally fed you chocolate body paint and made you itch to death.”

“Hey, stop worrying. Besides, I like whipped cream better than chocolate body paint

any day.”

Once more her beautiful eyes widened in shock. Damn but he enjoyed freaking her

out. Somewhere she’d gotten it into her head he was sexually walled up. Wicked thoughts
danced in his head. She was so wrong.

I could show her what I’m like. She’d have no reason to think I’m was sex-starved

and in need of a lesson. Yeah, but I am sex-starved. Jacking off just didn’t cut it. Whoa.
Take it easy. I don’t need the complication. He never took on sex as a reckless pursuit.
Never. Ever. Again.

Leigh’s eyes sparkled, her spunk returning. “Next time I’ll bring the whipped cream.

Do you like candy sprinkles?”

Her quick recovery forced a laugh out of him. He groaned and grabbed his side. “I

love them.”

She rushed to his side. “Are you all right?” She grabbed his arm and steered him

toward the couch. “Sit down.”

Her TLC felt damned good and yet surprised him. “My bruised ribs won’t take

laughter. I’m okay, though.”

“What can I get you? Aspirin?”
As he sank to the couch, she stood over him, eyes fierce with concern. “I don’t like

pain killers. I got…” Shit. He didn’t want to go there.

Leigh settled on the couch next to him. “You got?”
She had a look that said she’d weasel the answer from him at some point. “When I

was a kid, before I was adopted.” He swallowed hard, painful memories scaling upward.
“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all day.” She leaned back.
He closed his eyes, wanting to tell her but unsure he should. When he opened his

eyes she still stared at him, daring him to remain quiet under her tough scrutiny. “Ever
consider becoming a cop?”

Her brow furrowed. “What? No. Why?”
“You’ve got that ‘fess up buddy’ look down.”
A grin brightened her face. “I get that from my father. He was the CEO of a major

corporation many years ago.”

Craig sensed a big story in there somewhere and almost asked her to explain. She

said, “Don’t try and change the subject.”

He grunted. “Shit. You’re good.”
“I know. You might think you have that cop face down, but I’ve been around you

enough to tell when you’re stalling.”

And I can see deception on your face, babe. “So what would you do if I refuse to tell

you?”

“Tie you down and feed you chocolate.” She crossed her arms. “Since I know it

won’t kill you.”

Pushed to the limit, he shifted and leaned closer to her. His ribs twinged. He didn’t

care. “Kinky.”

Once more her cheeks flushed. She smacked his arm lightly. “No matter what you

say, you can’t distract me from the main point.”

He grinned. “It’s working so far.”
“Damn it, Craig MacGilvary—”
He leaned in and kissed her.
As his arm went around her shoulders, he ignored his ribs and tasted her with slow

and easy exploration. He drew back, surprised as hell by his own actions.

As she gazed up at him, lips parted, wet and red, temptation overtook restraint. He

kissed her again. He intended one more kiss, a swift satisfaction. When her hand came up
to cup his cheek, and her lips molded in total welcome, he lost it. She shivered, and his
craving exploded into hunger. Leigh smelled like flowers, the scent making him drunk
with desire. As her lips parted, allowing one thrust of his tongue, she moved back with a
gasp.

Her expression popped from dazed to shocked.
Her breath came quickly, and his cock was hard as hell and aching more fiercely

than his ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shook her head. “That won’t work either. You didn’t finish your story.”
Her persistence riled him up, and he knew she’d need more persuasion. “God, you’re

persistent.”

“I get that from my mother. She’s a former actress. She worked her way up the

ladder from poverty until her jackass of an agent—damn it—we aren’t talking about my
family.”

Amusement hit him hard, but he held back laughter. “You tell me about your father

and mother, and I’ll tell you my secrets.”

She slipped out from under his arm and stood. “No way.”
“It’s either that or strip poker.”
“What—oooh—you.” Her face flushed again. “What has that got to do with it?”
God help him, he liked it when she got mad. She looked freakin’ hot with her

emerald eyes blazing, her lips tempting toward sin. She could make a burlap bag look
sexy if she wore it.

“I’d win and you’d be naked,” he said.
Her eyes filled with poorly concealed frustration. “Enough. I came here to see if you

were okay, and all you’re doing is teasing me like a teenage walking hormone. I can see

you’re perfectly fine—”

“Whoa. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come on to you like that.” He was an idiot.

What the hell had come over him?

Contrition filled Craig. He stood, ready to apologize once more. Sharp pain knifed

him in the side. He sucked in a breath and couldn’t stifle a gasp as he clasped his left
side.

Once more she grabbed his other arm. “Craig. What is it? Are you all right?”
“Yeah. The doctor warned me about that. He said to move slowly.”
Leigh’s grip on his arm remained. “Maybe you should lie down.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.” Her face remained firm as she pulled him toward the hallway.

“Come on. You need to rest.”

Bemused and yet oddly comforted by her concern, he allowed her to lead him.
She stopped halfway down the hall. “Which one is yours?”
Despite the ache in his side, the thought of her leading him to his bedroom sent his

heart pumping faster. “This way.”

Gee, if he was lucky, Leigh wouldn’t discover dirty socks on the floor or the bed—

ah—the bed was unmade. He’d tumbled out of it the other day.

The shades kept the room dim.
“Lay down,” she said.
Her command, as stern as a general’s, compelled him to do as told. “Bossy. I like it.”
Her gasp of disgust amused him, and he couldn’t stifle a laugh.
Stretched out on the comforter, he yawned. She stared down at him with obvious

puzzlement. “Rest.”

“Yes, master.”
God, but he couldn’t seem to stop needling her. It felt too good. Even in the low

light, she looked edible. Her hair was mussed, and he could recall how soft it had felt
under his fingers, how silky to the touch. He wanted to draw her down onto the bed with
him, but he wouldn’t. He yawned.

To his surprise, she sat on the edge of the bed. “You aren’t going to sleep until you

get a bedtime story, are you?”

He blinked. “Sounds interesting.”
He almost reached out to touch her, to see if his frustrated libido had conjured her

out of thin air. She couldn’t be real.

“Okay.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “My mother was a…” Her

hesitation lingered. “My mother made a lot of money in the film industry.”

Suspicion, a firmly ingrained trait with him, reared its head. “She was an actress?

Would I know her name? Any films I might have seen?”

Leigh saw the anticipation on his face, and knew when she told the truth his sexual

interest in her would either disappear all together, or he’d think she was easy. Men
always thought that.

Words rang in her head, and so did anxiety. She sat on the cusp of telling him

something she’d never revealed to anyone but Celeste. At the same time, she ached to
reveal the truth to him, to allow at least some of it to trickle out so she wouldn’t feel like
a liar every day. I’ll just tell him a little. Not enough to speak the truth and the whole
truth, so help her God. Earlier, when he’d kissed her, when his suggestive and unexpected

Chapter Seven

“Leigh?”
Those intriguing eyes pinpointed her like a sniper’s site. Under his serious, “cop”

attention, she felt like a prisoner admitting to crime. Or like a teenager confessing a wet
dream to a priest. Then the humorous side of it sideswiped her.

She giggled, and her hand went to her mouth. Craig peered at her like she’d lost her

marbles. “Okay. I suppose you might know her. Her stage name was Cunny Galore.”

Craig’s mouth opened, his brow lifted in surprise, but she didn’t see recognition on

his face. “Cunny?”

“Yes. A take off on the James Bond movie character—you know—from Sean

Connery days. Pussy Galore.”

“Holy—” He cut himself off.
She hurried with the explanation, half afraid she’d see disapproval in his eyes.

“That’s right. My mother was a porn star. She was extremely popular. Sure you haven’t
seen any of her films?”

He shook his head, eyes serious as a heart attack. “No.”
“Balls of Fury? Queen Tut’s Womb?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He laced his hands behind his head while he grinned.
“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you’ve never watched porn.”
“Never said I didn’t. I stole my foster father’s stash of Playboys and a stack of porno

tapes one time when I was a kid. It was an eye-opening experience. He got mad as hell
when he found out I’d sold them to my buddies for extra cash for—”

He trailed off, and once more he hung on the edge of telling her what she wanted to

know. He might be a skilled interrogator, but she could keep secrets better than anyone.
She hated matching wits with someone who played the same game as well as she did.

He cleared his throat when she refused to goad him. “Anyway, I’ve seen porn, but

these days I prefer to get my sexual gratification from the real thing.”

Heat in his eyes stirred embers in her belly, made her almost reach out for him.

Instead she said, “Mom’s real name is Wendy Kozak-Strong. She met dad on a film. His
name is Roger Strong.”

“Was he a porn star, too?”
“No. He was a producer. Rich as sin, too.” Speculation entered his thickly-lashed

eyes, and she knew where his thoughts would lead him. “She wasn’t seduced into being a
porn star. She went to college to be a nurse, but needed extra cash. She started out as a
stripper. My father heard about her—that she was a really good stripper. He came into
her club, wined, dined, and fell in love with her. What’s crazy about this story is that he
did love her and she him.”

His eyes were soft. Almost concerned. “Did?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not a tragic tale. They’re alive and kicking and filthy rich.”
His eyebrows went up, but she couldn’t read him otherwise.
“So now you know,” she said. “I was raised by a porn star and her honey. They made

thirty-three films together before they quit the business.” Her mouth went dry. She
couldn’t talk about it anymore, or more of the messy truth would emerge. Leigh waited,

certain two things would happen now, neither of which she’d find pleasant.

“Well, then,” he said. “That’s quite a past. Not what I expected.”
“No one ever does.”
“You don’t tell too many people about this, do you?”
“Are you kidding? Would you?”
He lowered his arms and folded his hands over his stomach. “Good question. I don’t

know. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she repeated her earlier phrase. “You’re kidding,

right?”

“No. Are you ashamed?”
“No…I…” Damn him. She’d walked into almost telling him more. Almost. “Enough

confessional from me, Father MacGilvary. Earlier you almost told me something about
your childhood. It’s your turn to fess up.”

“My step dad cracked me one across the face for taking his porn stash. I went to the

cops because I was pissed that he’d hit me. I didn’t care the cops would find out that I’d
stolen porn and magazines to get a thrill. I wanted revenge. I got it. They moved me to
another foster family immediately.”

Horrified, she said, “They didn’t charge him with child abuse for hitting you?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t prove it. But he was still screwed. They took him off the

foster parent list. They didn’t want a guy leaving porn around for kids to find.”

Leigh knew he still harbored other secrets. “You sold the tapes and magazines for

spending money? You didn’t think stealing from the man was wrong?”

“At the time I didn’t care that it was wrong.” His gaze hardened.
If she asked for more, she knew he would demand equal. Did she want to regurgitate

ugly history?

“I didn’t steal just to piss off my foster father and mother. I needed the money.” He

swallowed, the sound hard, lines forming between his eyebrows. He scrubbed his hand
over his eyes. “Never mind.”

She wanted to strangle him for stopping right there.
“You know what, Craig? You are one of the most infuriating men I’ve ever met.”

She stood and yawned. “Go to sleep.”

“Lie beside me.”
She didn’t move, stunned by the question. “What?”
“Talk to me until I fall asleep.”
His request gave her pause—a lot of it.
“Don’t be so suspicious.” He closed his eyes. “I’m not going to jump your bones.”
The fact slapped her upside the head like an insult. “Well. Of course not.” Leigh

knew her statement sounded peeved, but she didn’t care. “You just survived a serious car
accident.” She went around the bed and eased onto the other side, her nerves pinging.
“You wouldn’t’ be capable of jumping my bones.”

He snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Rather than firing back a retort, she experienced a wave of self-disgust. She’d

provoked him with innuendo. When he’d kissed her earlier, she wanted to melt, to fall
into his arms and discover more of what they’d found in the elevator. Whether she should
want it was another thing.

“You aren’t going to tell me why you needed the money, are you?” She folded her

hands over her stomach in a mimic of his pose.

“What money?”
“Don’t be coy. The money you needed to buy—whatever. When you stole your

foster father’s tapes and magazines.”

When he didn’t answer she propped on one elbow and looked down at him. His eyes

were closed. His lips parted slightly, and with perfect timing he let out a soft snore.

She sighed and flopped back onto the bed. “Lovely.”

* * * *

“You’re a taint on this school,” the older woman said, her high-pitched voice, silver-

framed glasses, and short frizzy gray hair reminding Leigh of Dana Carvey’s Church
Lady on a Saturday Night Live episode. “And you always will be. Your mother was a
whore, your daddy a whoremaster. Your blood isn’t any better.”

Despite her young age, Leigh couldn’t take it anymore and swung the sword in her

hand. Off came the woman’s head.

Leigh jerked from sleep, her heart pounding. For a second it didn’t register where

she was. The dream was always the same. The weird factor stayed with her and so did the
emotions of fury and violence. The shame. The pain. It never quite left. The dream hadn’t
plagued her, though, for a year. Revealing some of her past to Craig had dredged up
memories.

Fuzzy-headed from the dream, her mouth dry, she couldn’t find any immediate

humor in the dream. She’d had it enough times that it should be amusing by now. But it
wasn’t.

She lay on her left side, Craig’s body spooned behind her. One powerful arm

encircled her waist, his hand tucked close to her left breast. She quivered and the strong
arm cured around her more tightly.

“You awake?” His hot breath stirred the hair near her ear, flavored with the darkness

of whiskey; had he drunk some whiskey? The raw texture of satin. The cool smoothness
of velvet.

She’d never heard anything as sexy as his voice in the darkness. Light from the

living room penetrated the open bedroom door with a thin sliver. The intimacy of the
situation surrounded her in a blanket of security. Every inch of hard sinew touched her
from her shoulders to calves.

He must think she was asleep after all that silence. “I’m awake.”
“Sounds like you were dreaming. Something about the Church Lady.”
Embarrassment and reluctance enveloped her. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“How long did we sleep?”
“An hour.”
“Why is it so dark in here?”
“My shades are extra thick. I don’t sleep well without it being very dark.”
“Uh-huh. I thought you tough alpha types could sleep through anything.”
“Not this guy. Trey can sleep four hours and feel like a new man. That’s all he needs

on average. I should be so damned lucky.”

They paused, wrapped in the quiet, a comforting moment where nothing bad could

happen.

“Tell me about the dream.” Once more the softness in his voice seduced, the sound

unguarded, unthreatening. “I’ve gotta know why you would scream like a beast over the
Church Lady.”

She jolted. “Oh, my God. I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I screamed?”
“It was more of a squeak.”
“Oh, man.”
“Do you dream about Saturday Night Live regularly?”
“No. There was this woman I knew a long time ago. She was gray-haired, sixties,

disapproving.”

“Now I know you’re not talking about your mother.”
She grinned and laughed. “No way. My mother is still beautiful. Like pristine ice,

but still beautiful.”

“Do you have a good relationship with your parents?”
His segue away from the dream to her parents gave her pause, and she didn’t know

how to answer.

“I take that as a no,” he said.
She drew in a slow breath. “Yes. And no. I get along with them on a certain level.”
“You don’t approve of what they did in their lives?”
“You’re very direct.”
“You’re just now getting that?”
She grinned even though he couldn’t see her. “I got it from the first day I met you.”

She sighed. “I don’t disapprove of what my parents are but for what they aren’t.”

“That’s interesting. Keep that in mind. I’m going to ask about that again in a minute.

Back to the dream.”

“What are you, a shrink?”
“Nah. Just curious.” His embrace shifted, his hand resting on her hip. She cherished

the solidity in his embrace even as her body responded with abandon. His hips pressed
into hers and need flared low and simmered. No mistaking the solid pillar of his cock.

“Who is the old woman?” he asked.
“You aren’t going to give it up easily, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. But I warn you. It isn’t pretty. The dream is stupid.”
“Most dreams are.”
She recounted the dream in detail. He listened without interrupting. “The old lady is

Wanda Pendergast. A sanctimonious woman who taught at this private Southern Baptist
school I attended during my teen years.” She laughed. “Different, isn’t it? Porn star and
movie maker with a daughter in a Baptist school.”

“No one knew their occupations, I take it?”
“Are you kidding? No, it was a big secret.”
“Were they Baptists?”
“My mother was raised in a Southern Baptist family. Dad came from a Pentecostal

background, if you can believe that.”

“Holy shit.”
She chuckled. “I think they had more than one ambition in sending me to that school.

Academically it was a great place. It wasn’t plagued with violence or drugs. All of those
were pluses. But students weren’t individuals there. They weren’t themselves. I sure as
hell wasn’t. My sister Trina, who is two years older than me, went there, too.”

“How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven. How old are you?”
“Thirty-one.”
She continued, on a roll. “Mrs. Pendergast found out what my parents did for a

living.”

“How?”
“I made good friends with two girls. At least I thought they were my good friends.

Foolishly I confided in them what my parents did.”

“You needed to tell someone confidences.”
“Right. Well, the girls told their parents and that was that. The parents went ballistic.

They were sure their girls would go to hell from associating with me, and that my parents
were monsters or pedophiles and something would happen to their children if they were
at my house.”

“Were your parents still in the business?”
“No. Mom and Dad had made enough money. Way more money than most people

would imagine. They dabbled in the industry only a little. Mom wasn’t in the films
anymore. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. Before my so-called friends ratted on
me, Mrs. Pendergast took a disliking to me.” Memories burned inside Leigh until her
eyes moistened with remembered pain. She swallowed tears. “It started as little things.
Subtle cruelty. You know those people who are good at turning a phrase so a compliment
is a put down?”

“Back handed compliments?”
“That’s it.”
His embrace returned to her waist, as if he could protect her from past harsh words

with his strength alone. “That sucks.”

“Precisely.”
“I take it the insults escalated?”
“She was always clever enough to keep her blatant insults private. She asked me to

come into her classroom after school one day. I was fifteen. Anyway, that’s when she
called me a demon spawn and said my mother was a whore and my father a
whoremaster.”

“Shit.”
“Yeah.” She sighed.
“What did you do?”
“I know what you’re thinking. That I rebelled and called her a wart-nosed, uptight,

sexless freak. I was brought up to be assertive and defend myself. That day it was like
someone turned off my powers of speech. Her blatant hatred surprised me so much I
couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. I clammed up and that infuriated her even more.
She dismissed me from the room.”

He kissed her ear, and the heat of gentle affection stirred far more than tenderness

inside her. “She went from subtle to bulldozer in two seconds flat.”

“I was scared. I thought about it for a long time. I guess there was part of me…I

don’t know…part of me that believed she must be right. Until Mrs. Pendergast, no one

knew what my parents did for a living. When confronted with my big secret, I was
defenseless.”

Once more his arm squeezed her in a gentle hung. A silent sympathy, a gesture of

tenderness without words that soothed.

“She blindsided you.” His voice rumbled low.
“In the back of my mind I was always afraid what would happen if people found out,

and when someone did…”

“What happened then?”
“I walked home and threw myself into my mother’s arms and sobbed. Dad wanted to

tear the teacher a new one, but mom reminded him that they had more dignity than that.
They called the school. They never told me what they said, but the administration asked
that I leave the school.”

“You were punished for the teacher being an idiot and for what your parents said to

them.”

“That’s the size of it.” The thought ached, drove old memories to the top, uncovered

from where she’d hoped to keep them buried. “I enrolled in public school. Things went
pretty well after that, but I learned never, never to tell anyone what my parents had done
for a living.” She rolled over onto her back, and Craig propped up on one elbow to look
down upon her. “Until now, Celeste was the only one who knew.”

“I think I understand now.” His eyes glittered warmly, even the low light unable to

obscure the heat within them.

“About what?”
“You. Your bravado. Your defensiveness.”
She snorted softly. “We all do what we can to survive, don’t we?”
“That wasn’t a put down.” He touched her cheek with his index finger, a mere brush

of skin against skin. “You’re a tough woman through and through. But I’ve seen the soft
side of you more than once since I met you.”

Deep inside her something eased, and the ice that floated around the outside of her

heart cracked like an glacier. “I have to protect myself. No one else is going to do it.”

His finger drifted down to rest in the middle of her chin, then slipped upward again

with shivery seduction to cup the side of her face. “That’s a big burden, shouldering the
load all the time.”

He went silent a moment, and she dared to meet his eyes. “I think that’s the cliché of

the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? You seem pretty closed up to me.”

“That’s what you’ve been trying to do all this time. The time in the elevator. You

challenging me to help you with the wedding. Every step of the way you’re trying to
break down my defenses.”

His accuracy made her twitch. She wanted to deny every word. She shrugged. A last

tiny piece of her couldn’t let him have it all. He couldn’t know the very core of her until
she knew everything she could about him.

“I get you more than you know because of what I’ve experienced,” he said. “Why

did you tell me about the Church Lady and about your parents?”

Excellent question.
“I don’t know.”
In the semi-darkness his smile eased like a hot toddy through her veins. His thumb

swept over her lips in a butterfly caress. She gasped softly, and he must have felt the

breath against his skin. He lowered his head, his mouth hovering over hers. “I think you
wanted me to know because you trust me.”

His soft entreaty stirred liquid fire in her belly and shot arousal straight to her depths.

She felt moist between the legs, her body firing to life under his gentle approach. Her
nipples tightened, tingled against the confines of her bra. Within her a raw sore started to
heal.

“Trust me.”
Fear, still a demon on her shoulder, made her say, “I don’t know if I can.”
He kissed her nose, her chin, then both her cheeks. Each movement showed control.

Each taste so feather light and tender. How could a big, macho man like this be so gentle?

“Let me show you.” His mouth teased the corner of hers. “Let me show you why you

can trust me.”

“Should we be doing this? You’re hurt.”
“Believe me, I’m feeling no pain.”
When she didn’t struggle out of his arms, when she didn’t say no, he settled his

mouth over hers.

Leigh clutched at his biceps, thrilling to the drugging sensuality as he coaxed her lips

apart to allow a thorough exploration. His tongue dipped into her mouth, but barely
enough to tease, to make a promise and make her yearn for a deeper kiss. She sighed,
relaxing because his touch showed restraint. In contrast to their fevered kiss in the
elevator, this time the languorous meeting of mouths felt elegantly patient. Step by step
he introduced her to his passion, to the way he as different from other men she’d kissed.

And, oh…oh God. He was different.
Passion sideswiped her as his mouth seduced, his lips finding and searching and

playing with hers in a dance until she lost all thought to sensation. He caressed her naked
thigh before daring to slide under her t-shirt. He caressed her stomach, the motion as
much soothing as sensual.

As her arms circled his neck, his tongue thrust. She met his foray with one of her

own. Each motion mimicked sex, a raw invitation to dance with him. As he leaned over
her, she felt his erection hard against her thigh. She almost reached down to touch him, to
discover the length and breadth of his cock.

She arched in his arms, struggling to somehow get closer. His touch teased as it

lingered close to her breasts but never touched, moved over her thighs again, caressed her
face. As his mouth left hers, he found her neck, each soft kiss he placed there creating
wild needs that rose higher inside her. With quick moves he pushed her shirt up, and her
bra came undone. Her nipples were already hard and tight. She helped him, going crazy
with an overwhelming need for completion. Leigh reached for her shorts, started to shove
them down. Craig’s mouth found her nipple and he suckled. As she gasped, his hand
slipped down her panties, touched between her thighs to find her slick and hot.

“Oh.” Her gasp was breathless as the tingle in her clit and deep inside her built to a

fever pitch. She’d never become aroused this quickly before.

His fingers danced over her softness and smoothed her arousal upward until his

finger grazed her clit. She moaned, writhed under his touch.

One more touch and she’d come unglued. “Craig, please.”
She couldn’t take this. As his mouth moved from one nipple to the other, she

quivered on the edge. She didn’t want slow or sweet—she ached. She wanted him buried

deep in her core. Two of his big fingers parted her, pushed straight and true deep inside
her. She let out a startled gasp full of excitement. His fingers fucked her, a steady
movement that caressed her walls. He found a spot inside her and rubbed.

“Oh, God!” She was going to explode.
He thrust again and again and when his thumb got in the act and rubbed circles over

her clit, she couldn’t take anymore. All her nerve ends came alive, sparks and heat and
beauty awaited.

“Oh yes!” Her hands clutched at his shoulders.
Maybe this time she would find the paradise that had always escaped her under a

man’s touch.

His mouth closed on her nipple again. He sucked and thrust his fingers faster. Faster.
She writhed, caught up in the hottest, most mind-blowing need she’d ever

experienced. She panted. Shook. But even though she wanted the climax with everything
inside her, a tiny part of her couldn’t do it. The beauty started to fade, the elusive climax
hovering just out of reach.

Shame swamped her and the orgasm slid away. Just as it always did.
A strange panic engulfed her. If she didn’t know everything about him, he would

screw her the way her ex had screwed her. Seven ways to Sunday.

She turned her head away from his kiss. “Wait.”
She wanted to let go. She needed to discover what it felt like to totally let go with a

man. Chad had ruined that, and she felt like an idiot, a defective woman for letting her
past mar her present.

Concern flashed over his face. “What is it?”
“Before we take this any farther I need to understand a few things.”
His chest rose and fell more quickly, evidence of his arousal still solid along her

thigh. “What? Why?”

“Why did you need the money?”
“What money?”
“You stole your father’s porn to get money. Why?”
Craig’s face screwed up. “You want to know that now?”
Anger crested, and she bit out the question. “Why did you sell your father’s porn to

get money?”

His eyes hardened, his grip loosened. He sat up and swung his legs off the edge of

the big bed, his body turned away. Her heart dropped.

“Craig?”
He turned to look at her, face unreadable. “Leigh, I’m sorry if some jerk in your past

hurt you so badly you think you can’t trust any other man. Maybe you need some time to
decide what you really want.”

Disappointment in herself gnawed at her insides. She done it again. Mortified, and

without looking at him, she refastened her bra. Mimicking his earlier move, she slid off
the bed and stood next to him. “I’d better get home.”

She headed into his bathroom to tidy up. As she closed the door, she stood for a

moment with her eyes closed, her body still shaking from being on the edge of what she
imagined would have been an incredible orgasm. The fact she’d allowed him to see her
like that, to experience such intimacy with him, jolted her down to the core. Angry with
herself for once again screwing up a physical relationship with a man, Leigh finished and

left the bathroom.

Finding the bedroom empty, she took a deep breath and went into the living room.

Craig had turned on the flat screen television, his feet up in a recliner as he surfed
through sports channels. When he looked at her, all she saw was guarded concern.

She reached for her portfolio and purse on the couch. “Is this the end of your

participation in the wedding planning?”

He shut off the television and stood, a wince of pain crossing his face. “Do you want

it to be?”

“No.” She hugged the portfolio close to her chest. “Friday night is Celeste’s

bachelorette party at six o’clock.”

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ll let myself out.”
If it had been dark, she knew he would have insisted on walking her out. She half

wished it was so he’d be forced to walk her out. Petty, Leigh. Very petty.

He walked her to the door. “Thanks for taking care of me. I feel much better.”
She backed away as he came closer until she almost touched the front door. “Of

course. Again, I’m sorry about the chocolate.”

“Don’t sweat it. Like I said, my brothers will love it.” His voice now held a cool

indifference that made her sad.

She mourned the loss of closeness that had sprung up between them tonight and the

understanding. She’d trusted him with a smidgen of her history—the most secret. Well,
okay, not the most secret. That was…well…the worst perhaps.

“You’re angry,” she said. “Aren’t you?”
“No.” The word came out stolid, like the old Craig. “Just confused. I thought we

were making a pretty damn good connection. Then you threw in wrench in it.”

“And you’re pissed because we didn’t make love.” She turned toward the door and

reached for the knob, then realized it was locked. She fumbled with the deadbolt.

He reached past her and opened the lock. “Am I disappointed because we didn’t

make love?” He leaned in, his warm breath teasing her lips, the rumble in his tone
seductive. “Yeah. I’m aching so bad I’m going to head into the shower after you leave
and get rid of this hard on. I’m going to imagine what it would feel like if I was inside
you and making you feel better than any man ever has. I’ll imagine what it would be like
to see your face as you come around my cock.”

His husky declarations almost melted her into the floor. Her heartbeat sped up, and a

flush burned her face as she reacted to his erotic description. His proximity sent tremors
of desire shivering over her body. She felt a vulnerability that scared her, and a wild
desire to confess more to him. He’d taken her closer to the edge than she’d ever come
before with a man.

“I can’t,” she whispered.
His gaze stayed locked with hers. “Can’t what?”
Oh, God, this was hard to admit but he deserved to know why she’d stopped their

lovemaking. “I’ve never had an orgasm with a man.”

He frowned as surprise parted his lips. “What?”
She nodded. “I’m defective that way, okay? I can’t have an orgasm while making

love to a man.” While she half expected him to back away, he didn’t.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?”

She licked her lips. “With a vibrator or my own touch. Just not with a man.”
His frown stayed, but he did back away this time, his gaze intense. “Is it because

some bastard hurt you?”

She wanted to pour out the whole story, but at the moment her embarrassment

overwhelmed her. “Yes. It’s a long story.”

Another emotion flickered over his face, this one true anger. “Oh, Jesus. Please tell

me you weren’t raped. Or that you suffered sexual abuse as a child?”

She hurried to reassure him. “No. No. Nothing like that.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Thank God.” His frown didn’t disappear. “Stay

and talk this out.”

“Like I said, it’s a long story.”
“I’ve got a lot of time.”
“Not tonight. I need to go.”
He crossed his arms. “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it. When

you’re ready to really trust me.”

Ashamed, she knew he was right. Somewhere deep inside she wasn’t ready to trust

him with that final vulnerability.

Surprise startled her. “Men don’t usually react this way when I can’t have an orgasm

with them.”

He snorted softly. “How do they react?”
“Anger. Ridicule.”
Anger did move over his face, but not the type she’d expected. “Then they’re stupid

fuckers.” He scrubbed one hand over his face. “You thought when you couldn’t come
that I’d reject you?”

She nodded.
“I’m not like those assholes, Leigh. Take all the time you need. Like I said, if you

ever trust me enough to talk about it, I’ll be here.”

Soothed and mortified by her behavior at the same time, she opened the door and

when she turned back, she said, “You’re not the man I thought you were, Craig
MacGilvary.”

“What kind of man did you think I was?”
“Hard. Unfeeling.” She shook her head. “I tried to peg you as the tough, ruthless

cop.”

“I can be all those things.” His voice dropped, deadly softness caressing her like a

touch.

She smiled, but it was half hearted. “Keep telling yourself that, MacGilvary.”
With that, she left.

Chapter Eight

Leigh sat in traffic watching emergency vehicle lights flash in the distance ahead of

her. Her stomach rumbled. She should have eaten lunch. She shouldn’t have gotten
caught in traffic on I-70. Shoulds. They never solved anything.

Yeah, like I can direct the universe to my will.
She sighed, resigned to sit here as long as it took. Her cell phone was attached to a

hands-free unit on the dash, and she dialed Celeste’s cell number.

“Where are you?” Celeste’s worried voice asked when she answered the phone.
“Stuck in the mother of all traffic jams on I-70 just as it enters the mountains.

There’s a big wreck in front of me. Fire trucks, ambulances, police. The whole taco.”

“Oh, no.” Celeste’s dismay came through loud and clear. “You’ll be late for the

party.”

“Looks like it. I have no idea how long this mess will take.”
Celeste sighed. “Wait. Someone just drove up. Oh, it’s Craig.”
“He’s early?”
“Yep.”
“That man constantly surprises me.”
“By being early?” Amusement filled Celeste’s tone. “He’s always early, just like you

are. Irritating isn’t it?”

Leigh snorted in soft disgust. “Exceedingly.”
“By the way, did something weird happen between you two lately?’
Heat blossomed inside her when she thought of the sensual adventure she’d

experienced with Craig a week ago. Discomfort at how they’d ended the night also
swamped her. “Weird?”

“Mick said Craig has had an attitude all week. Cool and detached.”
“You mean he’s not that way all the time?”
Celeste laughed. “Here he comes. I’ll see you when you get here. Drive safe.”
After they signed off, Leigh wished she’d quizzed Celeste more about Craig’s

“attitude.” Craig rarely came off loose and easy with his humor, his personality rough
rather than socially certain. She wondered if corralling him for the bachelorette party had
been a big mistake. After all, if he stood in the corner and glowered at the ladies, he’d
scare them. When he wanted to she imagined Craig could freeze water with his glare. She
didn’t really need Craig’s help, other than asking him to assist with anything related to
Celeste and Mick’s wedding. Despite the way they’d ended up after almost making love,
part of her ached to see him.

It took thirty more minutes of stop-and-start driving before traffic moved past a four-

car pile up. Her cell phone rang again.

“Leigh?” Craig’s voice came on the line, concern laced in that single word.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“You okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Celeste told me about the traffic jam.”
“We’re moving forward now. I passed the accident.” She hurried to change the tone.

“I’m glad you’re there early. The stripper should be there any moment.”

“Great.” His sardonic tone spoke volumes. “And Celeste knows about the stripper,

right?”

“She’d brain me if I had him jump out of a cake or something, so I had to tell her.”

Leigh ticked off a list of twenty other women attending the event. She also reminded him
on food preparation and set up. “Don’t let Celeste lift a finger. This is her party.”

“Roger that. It’s taken care of.”
She switched gears as traffic picked up speed. “The stripper is a super guy, so be

nice to him.”

Craig cleared his throat. “What’s this character’s name again?”
She sighed, his attitude making her smile even when she wanted to brain him. “Cal

Tate. He’s a computer software engineer who moonlights with Naughty Messages out of
Denver. It’s all there in your notes.”

“Right. Cal Tate. Naughty Messages.” His voice held thinly veiled amusement

mixed with disbelief.

“I had lunch with him the other day. He’s a sweet guy.”
Craig grunted. “Yeah. Well…aren’t you forbidden from having dates with someone

who is working the wedding events? The unwritten rule of wedding planners?”

Did she hear jealousy in his tone? No way. Couldn’t be. Yet she didn’t let it pass.

“There’s no such thing as an unwritten rule of wedding planners like that. I can date
anyone I like. Anyone at all.”

Prolonged silence echoed on the other end.
“Besides,” she said, “why would you care who I date?”
Laugher in the background crackled over the phone. “I gotta go. Guests are

arriving.”

“Okay. Later.”
She hung up, a little bemused. As she took the road slowly and steadily, she tried not

to wonder why he cared if she dated Cal Tate. Short of wanting to goad her, nothing else
explained why he’d give a damn.

What if he is jealous?
Hmm. The thought he might be jealous aroused satisfaction inside her. After all, if he

was jealous, he must care about her.

* * * *

Olivia, who looked like a studious librarian in her gray pants suit, opened the door to

Leigh as soon as she arrived at Celeste’s house. Sounds of revelry spilled from the home.

“Hey, welcome!” Olivia’s smile and hug gave Leigh a warm fuzzy. The party was

now in full swing, and Leigh hated that yet another traffic jam had made her even later.

As Leigh walked into the foyer, Olivia grinned. “Good thing you finally got here.”
“I’m really sorry. I left Denver early. There was a second traffic jam not that far out

of Gold Rush. What a mess.”

“Not to worry. Craig has it all in hand. What an organizer.” Olivia waggled her

eyebrows. “Under that gruff exterior is a softy. When he jumps in to help, he jumps in.
The ladies love him. If I were you, I’d hurry up and snag him. A couple of Celeste’s
friends from the charter school are eyeballing him like he’s Christmas pudding left over
on Boxing Day.”

“Oh?” Leigh stumbled over her words, startled by Olivia’s statements. “Well, they’re

welcome to him.”

“Uh-huh.” Olivia’s eyes tinkled with mischief. She lowered her voice. “He almost

called you again.”

“Really?” Surprise sideswiped Leigh. “Why?”
“Do I have to spell it out? That man has a serious crush on you. He was worried

about you.”

Leigh’s mouth flopped open. Olivia snagged her arm and pulled her out of the entry

into the living room. Ladies looked up and greeted her with enthusiasm and questions.
Celeste left the couch to say hello and give her a hug.

“We’re about ready to open presents,” Mary said with a wink.
After assuring the women all was well, she placed her shower gift on a table

arranged along one living room wall that was already groaning with presents. Chattering
among the party goers recommenced, and Leigh popped into the kitchen to check out the
food.

Cal Tate stood near the sink looking out into the back garden. He wore a white

button-down Oxford shirt and jeans. For a few seconds his short, clipped blond hair
reminded her of Craig. Cal turned. His refined, almost too-perfect features gave him an
Adonis/ heavenly Greek god look many women loved. Craig didn’t have Cal’s smooth
features, but instead a roughhouse and reckless handsomeness. With a jolt, Leigh realized
she preferred Craig’s imperfections over Cal’s more refined look.

Cal greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “What happened? You’re really late.”
She reached for a plastic cup and started to fill it with punch. “You heard about the

traffic jam?”

“Yep. Your boyfriend told us.”
She almost choked on the punch. “My—what?”
“The deputy. SWAT dude. I got here way too early from Denver, which is a good

thing or I would have ended up in the same traffic jam. He was already here. Eyeballed
me like I was a criminal. Intense guy.” Laughter in his eyes said he took no offense.

She groaned. “Sorry. He looks at everyone like that. Even me.” She sighed, disturbed

by everyone trying to link her up with Craig. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

Cal took a sip from his beer bottle. “Could’ve fooled me. Quizzed me like he was

jealous. Real old-fashioned type, isn’t he?”

Suddenly the punch tasted too sweet. She put down the cup and self-consciously

smoothed her short-sleeved sweater set. Had everyone’s brains swelled in this unusual
heat? “No. He’s a cop. Suspicious.”

Like that explained it all. Not.
“If you say so. He’s been watching me like a hawk. Like I might make off with the

big screen TV if he isn’t looking. Why is he at a shower and bachelorette party anyway?”

“He’s helping me with stuff for the wedding.” She grimaced. “I asked him to help

with this event.”

He disposed of his beer bottle in a recycle bin. “Uh-huh. Well, I’d better get changed

for the strip. You wanted me to do it before she opens her presents, right?”

“Absolutely. She doesn’t know exactly what or when you’re going to do it.”
After Cal left the kitchen to change, she hurried to find Craig. Where was that

irritating cop anyway? She headed upstairs to the second floor and started checking the

bedrooms. The first door she came to stood open a crack.

Time stopped. A man stood near the bed with his back to her.
She recognized Craig, but she’d never seen him without a shirt before and

impressions bombarded her. Delineated muscles, the breadth of his shoulders, his obvious
strength captured her breath and held it.

But what threw her into a tizzy was the tattoo that spread over his shoulder blades

like the wings of a great creature.

A magical, impressive tattoo of a violent red, emerald green, and royal blue dragon

snarling as it writhed with each movement of his back. The dragon’s yellow eyes glared
at her, seemingly alive and ferocious. White teeth promised to eat anything it might
catch.

He turned.
Craig stared at her, looking only vaguely surprised to see her. Leigh stared at Craig’s

chest for what seemed all of an eon rather than a few seconds. Within those stunning
moments, she hungrily absorbed the sight of sexy, hard man.

If Craig had been a stripper for the bachelorette party, the ladies would have gone

wild. To top it off, his broad shoulders and chest were sprinkled with hair much darker
than that on his head. Add muscular arms and a six-pack to the tasty trail mix, and she
couldn’t deny the truth. The man was hot. Nix that. A gorgeous bod could send any red-
blooded woman into meltdown, but this guy possessed an extra element. Pure, exciting,
pouring-off-him testosterone. Virility with a capital V.

Craig scooped up a blue shirt from the bed and shrugged it over his shoulders. The

slow, paced movement seemed to take forever. She realized she was holding her breath
and staring.

“A cop stripper,” she said. “SWAT no less. The ladies would love it. Wanna show

off for the ladies?”

He grunted. “Very funny.” His gaze deepened, an intimate, hot look that sent spirals

of desire stirring to life in her stomach. “Remember, I only strip for one woman at a time.
A personal, private showing.”

She gulped, then a twinge of that jealousy tweaked her. “Have you ever stripped like

that for a woman? I mean, a real strip?”

“Why do you want to know?”
Good question. “Just answer the question, MacGilvary.”
“Yeah. A long time ago. Not since.”
Oh. Now that’s interesting. She wanted to know more, but decided now was not the

time to ask.

Undaunted, she asked, “Is the sheriff’s department changing uniforms? Snazzy blue

shirt mixed with jeans?”

He didn’t smile. “No. I spilled pop down the front of my other shirt. I threw it in the

wash before it could stain.”

He left the shirt unbuttoned, and his masculine attributes drew her attention like a

magnet to metal. “That’s an impressive tattoo.”

One corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. “Noticed, eh?”
“How could anyone miss it? It’s so colorful and huge.”
“Do you like it?” His voice was soft and deep.
“I’ve never been fond of tattoos before. But I like yours.”

God, do I ever.
His accessing eyes sharpened with clear interest, darting over her body in quick

appraisal that oozed approval. Heat blossomed low in her stomach.

She clasped her fingers together in front of her as butterflies played tag in her

stomach. “Where did you get the tattoo?”

“Long story.”
Frustration wound up inside her. “It always is with you.”
He wandered around the bed to stand next to her. “What took you so long to get

here?”

She explained about the second traffic jam. Then she jumped right into the fire.

“You’ve got to stop being so fatherly, Craig. Cal and Mary and Celeste all mentioned that
you were going to call me again. Cal said you were glaring at him like he was going to
steal the silver or something.”

His mouth tightened, but his eyes didn’t turn cool like she expected.
“You,” he said, voice rich as whisky, husky and caressing like velvet along already

aroused senses. “You are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met.”

His voice rolled over her like rough velvet, a sound deceptively soft when she knew

danger lurked.

Downstairs the sexy thump, thump of a stripper’s song started.
“Me? Irritating?” She closed the door, determined to have it out with him here and

now. “Well, I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so…so…”

What was he anyway? He defied definition.
He leaned in closer. “Yes?”
“People are starting to talk.”
“About what?”
Instead of grinning in understanding, he kept that razor sharp intensity spotlighted on

her. She felt vulnerable. Exposed. Just as she had the night they’d almost made love.

Heat speared straight to her core. “They think we’re dating or something.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What do you care what they think? Unless the

idea of dating me is repugnant?”

“Of course not. It’s just that we aren’t a good fit.”
One of his eyebrows lifted in skepticism. “I have a feeling we’d fit together well.”
“No, we wouldn’t. We’re like a square peg and a round hole.”
He smirked. “Which one are you?” A sexy smile touched his lips just long enough to

fry her brain cells. “What images come to mind when you think of us sleeping together?”

Oh, hell. What could she say to that? Either way she was screwed. Keep it up, Leigh.

Just dig a deeper hole by the second.

“Craig, this isn’t the time or place.”
He leaned in closer, his voice low and soft. “So you have thought about it?”
Had she ever. Every night without fail her dreams were haunted by erotic scenes of

him making love to her, of her body accepting his.

Raucous music rumbled up the stairway. The kind that conjured images in her mind

of Craig doing a strip tease. His hips moving, gyrating, bumping and grinding in a way
that—

“There you are!” Mary’s cheerful voice interrupted them.
Leigh jumped about ten feet back from Craig, embarrassment sweeping over her.

Mary’s grin was unrepentant as her gaze darted between Craig and Leigh. “Cal’s

stripping. Didn’t think you’d want to miss that.”

“I can miss it. I’ll be outside on the patio,” Craig said as he left the room.
With her face still flaming, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions, Leigh left

the room with Mary and headed downstairs.

* * * *

Craig didn’t appear during the present opening portion of the party, which probably

was a good thing. The plethora of girly, see-through lingerie would have embarrassed
him, Leigh figured. Especially the sheer purple passion crotchless teddy Leigh had given
Celeste. She imagined he’d sequestered himself in Mick’s man cave with the television.

Like a ghost, he appeared in time to assist with cleaning after the ladies left. They

banished Celeste upstairs to relax while Olivia, Mary, Leigh and Craig worked on
cleaning up. Cal had left right after the striptease.

“Cal was hot,” Mary said.
“Seriously delicious,” Olivia said as she rinsed a plate and handed it to Mary.
“For shame.” Leigh took the plate after Mary dried it and placed it in the kitchen

cupboard. “Old married ladies talking about Cal that way.”

Mary sniffed. “Hello! I might be married, but I still recognize a great male bod when

I see one.”

Olivia sniggered. “Did you see that thing he did with his pecs?”
Mary waggled her eyebrows. “I did. I should teach Dace to do that.”
Leigh laughed. “What did Cal do with his pecs? What are you talking about?”
Mary handed Leigh another plate. “You know. Where he moved each pec

independently.”

Leigh wrinkled her nose. “I dunno. That was a little weird to me.” She tried to

picture Craig doing that and couldn’t.

Craig walked in, his expression saying he’d heard the last part. “Jeez, I have

impeccable timing. Can I talk to you a minute, Leigh?”

Curious, Leigh followed him back to the man cave. He closed the door. A tiny thrill

shot up her spine. He looked good enough to eat. “What’s next on the docket for the
wedding?”

Impressed with his continued desire to assist, she patted him on the shoulder. “You

were fabulous tonight. There’s nothing else on the list for you to do.”

He placed his hand over hers and held it between his pecs. Solid heat warmed her

fingers, and pure arousal shortened her breath. God, the man smelled intoxicating.
Standing this close to him, taking in his hot male scene made her crazy.

Caught in his gaze, she couldn’t look away. He slipped his other hand into her hair

and his lips covered hers.

Thoughts drifted as her eyes closed and she fell into the delicious and unexpected

kiss. Warmth flamed inside and overwhelmed resistance. Their acrimonious parting
earlier in the week dissolved as he tasted one corner of her mouth, then the other. As their
lips melded, his tongue thrust, stroked hers with languorous sensuality.

The power of the connection jolted her like electricity. A soft moan echoed between

them. He moved back, releasing her entirely. Deep within, her body trembled and
recognized one thing she’d tried over and over to deny. For whatever reason, their

physical attraction continued to be high test. She trembled on the brink of falling off the
edge and that scared the hell out of her. Whether she wanted to or not, she had feelings
for him beyond the physical.

She decided to mask the fact he’d thrown her into chaos, and heading into different

territory would do the trick. “There is one thing I needed to tell you about the wedding.
Helga Swanson wants me to check on the cake design and there’s one change Celeste
wants to make. I need to go down there Monday evening and Celeste is going with me. I
promised I’d tell you when I was going to Ely.”

He nodded. “Thanks. I really wish neither one of you would go, but you’re two

intelligent, sensible women. I know you’ll be careful.”

A small, impatient sound exited her throat, but she smiled. “Gee, thanks for the

compliment. And thanks for caring.”

He returned her grin, and his genuine smile melted her right down into her shoes.

Craig being even more understanding? How much more of this guy could she take?

His eyes went soft, the old Craig’s stern expression nowhere in sight. “I do care

about you. Remember that.”

His kiss had told her that. Leigh felt more of her heart melt. “Gee, I never would

have guessed that Craig MacGilvary is a real softy under all that cop exterior.”

He grimaced. “Don’t let that get out.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t approve of us going to Ely,” she said in a

teasing tone. “We’d go anyway. Later, MacGilvary.”

As she walked out of the room, she couldn’t help but touch her mouth and savor the

wonderful memory of his mouth on hers.

* * * *

Later that evening, as Craig sat in front of his television attempting to watch sports,

he went over that kiss.

You’re fucked up, MacGilvary. Just as well you aren’t dating her or sleeping with

her.

Sleeping with her isn’t an option.
He already cared about her too much, and he’d shocked himself when he’d admitted

it to her.

He needed to cut his ties to her once the wedding concluded. Once Mick married

Celeste, Craig would continue life before Leigh Strong stormed into it. Sure he’d see her
from time to time because of her friendship with Celeste and Mick. But he could easily
avoid her most of the time. The less time he spent around the feisty, stubborn, sexy
woman the better.

He closed his eyes and her gentle, pixie-like beauty emerged in his imagination with

a vengeance. His cock surged to attention, and he gritted his teeth. His hips lifted, lifted
again. Each involuntary movement corresponded with his thoughts as he envisioned her
mouth slipping over his cock, her touch smooth and gentle. Wet heat encompassed him,
tight and slick. Now his fantasy turned to how tight she’d feel when he sank deep
between her legs. He shivered.

After snapping off the television, he retreated to his bedroom and the shower. At first

he planned a cold drenching. Instead, he let warm water cascade over his skin, his hand
reaching for his straining erection. Try as he might, he couldn’t banish his fantasy. He

Chapter Nine

Craig strode into the sheriff’s department Monday afternoon, his body reminding

him only a week had passed since the car wreck. On his way to work that morning he’d
stopped to see the elderly woman who had hit his car to see how she was doing. Though
the car wreck had proven to her she shouldn’t drive, she was one hell of a feisty lady
otherwise. He’d brought her a bouquet of wildflowers, passed the time of day with her,
and enjoyed her clever sense of humor. Then her son showed up; the middle-aged lawyer
was obviously worried about Craig’s intentions. Craig left soon after, the son glaring at
him with hostility.

Some freakin’ people.
Dace sat at one desk clacking away at a computer. “Hey, MacGilvary.”
“Hey.”
Their causal greeting went silent as the lights extinguished like a birthday candle.
“Shit.” Dace muttered as the computer screen flickered. The ABS kept it humming.
Before the outage made much impact, the emergency lights popped on. Frustrated

voices filled the office.

“You know what this means?” Dace asked.
“Enlighten me.”
“Traffic signals probably went out again. This hot weather is a bitch.”
Craig’s shoulder radio crackled as a dispatcher relayed a message. Sure enough.

Electricity had spiked in several spots around town. City police would deal with traffic
and Colorado State Patrol would prowl the major highways. At least the Sheriff’s
Department could take care of its usual concerns.

As Craig eased into an available desk to write reports, Dace glanced over at him.

“How’s the ribs?”

“Barely a twinge.”
The day after the bachelorette party for Celeste, Craig had worked out hard. Since

that last, hot kiss from Leigh, he spent half his waking hours trying to forget how she felt
in his arms.

He’d pounded the streets, jogging, stopping in the park to do dozens of sit ups and

push ups, ignoring any pain in his ribs. He reminded himself that his priorities remained
on his job. Memories of Leigh smiling at Tate haunted Craig. Hot jealousy cut through
him like a sword. Angry, he opened paperwork and glared at it. He tried to erase emotion.
Envy was one thing. Reacting to Tate as if he was trying to take his woman—that was
pure idiocy. Craig had to admit the guy had brains and appeared to be a decent man. But
Craig could also see the way Tate had watched and admired her as a woman. While he
acknowledged a need to make sure no man treated her without respect—a need to protect
her—he’d never felt such burning desire to claim a woman. The primitive emotion
floored him.

The only reason a man could know jealousy was if he had feelings for a woman.
Shit.
Rule number one needed establishment. No more time alone together.
Rule number two. No more kisses.

Hell, no more nights where he could find himself touching her pretty pussy or feel

her body clenching around his fingers.

Yeah, those were the two biggest rules.
He would follow them from this day forward.

* * * *

Leigh drove into Ely with a sense of apprehension she hadn’t expected. Rain

splattered from the darkening skies and Celeste said, “Ugly weather. Great.”

Leigh shrugged. “No biggie. We’ll be at Helga’s soon.”
As she turned onto First Street and headed into the old neighborhood, she saw signs

of dissipation. Once elegant Victorians had lined these streets, but now age, neglect and
poverty assured their downfall. Here and there smaller, Edwardian era homes dotted the
landscape, some better maintained than others. She could count Helga’s house in that
category. Though she’d only been there once because Helga usually dealt directly with
clients or come to the shop, Leigh didn’t know the neighborhood well.

She spied teenagers loitering on a street corner. Two had skateboards and all seemed

oblivious to the rain. One flipped the bird as she drove by.

“Bitch!” She heard the word clearly through the glass and metal.
She grunted in disbelief. “Isn’t that nice,” she muttered as she continued driving

slowly.

“Frickin’ kids,” Celeste said, shaking her head. “I think Helga should move out of

this neighborhood.”

“Me, too. But she’s stuck in her ways. I’ve mentioned it to her before. The moving

part, I mean. She won’t hear of it.”

Rain splattered on the windshield in bigger drops as thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Craig really didn’t want you to come here, did he?” Celeste asked out of the blue.
“No. But there was no way I was going to let him stop me.”
“He said he was going to stop you?” Celeste sounded concerned.
“No. But I wouldn’t have been surprised if he thought about trying.”
“Honestly?” Celeste laughed softly.
“Yeah.” Leigh grunted softly. “Man is a damn challenge.”
“Why are you compelled to take him on as a challenge in the first place?”
Tough question. Leigh didn’t want to think about it too deeply. A sigh parted Leigh’s

lips. “He reminds me of Chad. A little.”

“Just a little? That irritates you?”
Leigh glanced at Celeste long enough to catch her friend’s amused look. “Like a burr

under a saddle.”

“Ignore him, then.”
Oh, if I only could. “Since he’s Mick’s brother I can’t avoid him completely.”
“Mick challenged me. He made me think when I didn’t want to.”
Jeez, was Celeste reading her mind?
“I don’t see how this is the same. You were in lust with Mick right off.”
“I think I always loved him.” As if she realized she couldn’t change Leigh’s mind,

Celeste shrugged. “Does Craig make you think about what happened with Chad too
much?”

“He annoys me the way Chad did.”

“Why?”
“Well, his whole overprotectiveness thing.”
Celeste cleared her throat. “I don’t know everything in his past, but I think whatever

happened to him when he was a kid certainly shaped him into a defender. I think most
men get that way at least a little when they care about a woman. It’s hardwired into their
genes. The MacGilvary men are particularly that way.”

Damn her for being so reasonable, so understanding. Leigh sighed. “I suppose so.”
“I think your reaction to Craig is because Chad emotionally raked you over the coals

and tried to dominate you. Any sign of protectiveness to you comes across as
domination.”

The idea hit home with sharp effect. The truth disturbed Leigh, and for the first time

ever she wanted to tell Celeste to mind her sweet business.

Celeste continued. “You were in love with Chad, and when he took advantage of

that, you felt like a fool. That’s not something you forget over night.”

Unexpectedly, Leigh’s eyes prickled with tears. She sniffed. “Maybe.”
“You’re afraid of the same thing happening over again.”
Leigh gave a shaky sigh. “Why did you have to be so damned smart?”
Celeste laughed. “Because I’m your friend. I don’t want to see you hurt either.”
Leigh made a sound of dismissal. “Don’t worry. There isn’t anything Craig

MacGilvary can do to hurt me.”

A few more stoplights and she’d be at Helga’s home thinking about cakes. And not a

moment to soon for Leigh.

Streetlights flickered and extinguished.
“Wonderful,” Leigh said.
She slowed, headlights cutting a clean swathe through darkness. Up ahead a stoplight

flashed red, and so did the one past that. Lightning streaked across the horizon. Thunder
rumbled.

All the lights in houses went off, too. Wind battered the car as she came to the

flashing lights and stopped. No one seemed to be around for miles, and Leigh eased
through the intersection. It was if they were on the planet alone.

Finally they made it through the wonky lights and when they rolled passed Corner

Street, Leigh counted the dark houses. When she reached the third down on the right, she
believed the hulking two-story house proved the right one.

A candle blazed in one front window. At least that was something.
“This is it,” Leigh said.
“I’ll get the flashlight.” Celeste grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment

as she left the car.

Keeping her keys in her hand like a weapon, Leigh slung her tote bag over her

shoulder and dashed out of the car.

Rain drenched her slicker and peppered her in the face. She heard her cell phone

ringing in her tote bag but ignored it. Using the flashlight, she located the house number.
Excellent. This was the right house and now it looked familiar.

The front door snapped open a crack and Helga’s white-haired head peeked around

the door. “Oh, Good.” Her Swedish accent had faded to almost nothing after thirty years
in the United States. “I hoped it was you.”

“Hello.” Leigh laughed as she stepped onto the porch and out of the downpour. “This

sucks, eh?”

Helga grinned as she opened the door and allowed them inside. “It does. Good thing

I have some of those flameless candles.”

She was right. The living room glowed with the candles placed here and there. After

Leigh and Celeste removed their wet athletic shoes and slickers, they followed Helga into
the kitchen which also blazed with flameless candles.

“I got an apple crumble fresh out of the oven right before the power went out. Want

some?” The sixty-something woman asked as they took a seat.

“That would be great,” Leigh said.
“It smells delicious,” Celeste agreed.
“You know me. I love to bake.”
As they gathered plates and utensils, Leigh said, “Everyone is going to love your

cake, and I’m going to love this pie. I haven’t had a great pie in…well, okay, I get great
pie on a regular basis because Olivia and Arlene MacGilvary are great bakers, too.”

Helga laughed. “The more the merrier. But I’m much better at cakes than I am at

pies.”

The bridal shop had referred clients to Helga often, and her exquisite cake making

skills had earned her a wonderful reputation. The brides who purchased her creations had
always come away pleased.

“I’m so glad you girls made it all right.” Helga’s hair, piled on her head, gleamed in

the low light. Her small stature and youthful attitude often made her seem younger than
her years. “When the lights went out, I was worried.”

“What’s a little rain?” Celeste asked.
As if to punctuate or refute her statement, thunder rattled the house.
Helga placed plates of apple crumble in front of them. “Here you go, dears. Eat up

while it’s still warm.”

Leigh inhaled the delicious apple scent and sighed. “Heaven.” She took a forkful and

bit into the soft, cinnamon apple flavors. “Oh, man. This is gorgeous.” Leigh’s phone
rang again. “Sorry. I’ll turn the ringer off. It’s been ringing off the hook for the last thirty
minutes.”

Leigh dug around in her tote bag to locate the ringing device. She plunked down into

a chair when she found the phone. Craig’s name flashed on the screen. She ignored it and
depressed the button to turn the ringer off.

“Not an important call?” Celeste asked.
“No. Just my pesky assistant.” She lifted a fork full of crumble and moaned in

orgasmic delight. “Umm, this is wonderful, as always. Just the way I like it.”

Helga bit into her own slice. “You have an assistant?”
Celeste chuckled. “You haven’t met him.”
“Him?” Helga’s eyebrows went up.
“Craig MacGilvary. Mick’s brother.”
“Oh, yes.” Helga’s surprised expression turned to amusement a second later. “He’s

your assistant? I’m having a hard time imagining that.”

Leigh’s face heated. “Strange, I know.”
Helga frowned. “I thought he was a sheriff’s deputy.”
“He is. One overbearing, overprotective, pain-in-the-ass.”
Helga’s burst of laughter startled Leigh. “Why is he helping you if he’s a cop and

also a pain in the rear?”

Leigh chewed her crumble to avoid an immediate answer. “I challenged him to help

me just because he’s a pain.”

Helga’s fork clanged against her plate as she laughed. “Sorry, dear. Just call me an

old nosy woman. Let’s look at that cake change Celeste wants to make.”

Less than an hour later, they’d finished cake details.
“Thanks for everything, Helga,” Celeste said. “I appreciate it.”
As Leigh stood, Helga closed the binder. “You’re more than welcome. I can’t wait to

see you in your wedding dress. And Mick will be so handsome.”

So will Craig.
Leigh had seen the tuxes the men would wear. Black, with red cummerbunds to

match the red bridesmaid dresses. Leigh would wear a striking emerald green dress as
maid of honor.

Helga smiled as she followed them to the door. “It’ll be a great party.”
“With Leigh’s help,” Celeste said.
As they put on their shoes and slickers, Leigh said, “That’s why they pay me the big

bucks.”

Helga stopped in the foyer. “You’re still considering opening the shop again, aren’t

you? What’s holding you back?”

“Money. If I open a shop out of my place it won’t be as expensive. If I work as a

wedding planner and not a wedding shop owner that would save money. I’m still thinking
through which option I want to take. A full-sized shop in Gold Rush won’t work. There
isn’t enough call for it here.”

“Nothing keeping you in Gold Rush, right?” Helga asked.
Leigh hefted her tote bag onto her shoulder. “I thought about moving to Denver. It

would be a much better place for a wedding planner business. I could have a home office,
no problem.”

“I would miss you, of course.” Helga patted her on the shoulder. “But you have to do

what makes you happy, dear. Don’t wait for a sign. Do it if you really want to.”

Leigh opened the front door. “When are the darned lights going to come back on in

this town?” Armed with their flashlight, Leigh and Celeste tromped onto the porch.

“Wait.” Helga put out a hand. “Look.”
That’s when Leigh saw the group of dark figures near her car.

Chapter Ten

Craig headed to the break room, hoping coffee would take his mind off the grinding

apprehension rising inside him. His mind whirled with sick images he couldn’t seem to
tame. He hated where his thoughts had strayed the last two hours. When he entered the
break room, only Dace was there.

“Something is fucking wrong,” Craig muttered in concern as he took another look at

his cell phone and tried dialing Leigh’s home number once more. He’d already left four
messages on her cell phone.

Dace stood by the coffee machine. “What’s up?”
One ring. Two. Three. Four. The rings continued until her answering machine

clicked on. “Leigh, call me immediately.” He hung up and placed his cell phone back in
its holster. “She isn’t answering her home phone or cell phone.”

Dace’s eyebrows went up. “Who?”
Craig ran a hand over his chin as frustration overcame him. “Leigh. I’ve called her

five…no six times. I think.”

Dace laughed softly. “Christ, MacGilvary. What are you turning into, a damned

stalker?”

Craig glared at his friend. “No, damn it. She went to that cake maker’s house tonight.

The power is friggin’ out and it’s raining.”

Dace poured a large paper cup of coffee and handed it to Craig. “Here. You need this

more than I do.” When Craig took the coffee, Dace continued with, “She’s an adult,
Craig. She can take care of herself. She’s probably ignoring your ass.”

“Ely is a crap hole.”
Dace frowned. “She didn’t go there alone?”
Craig shook his head. “Celeste went with her.” Craig sipped the sludge that passed

for coffee. Then he noticed Dace’s expression change, his face now pale and shocked.
“What is it?”

“Shit,” Dace said. “Shit. It never occurred to me to think…”
Deep in Craig’s gut a strong unease started. “Damn it, Banovic, if you don’t—”
“I heard a report a couple of minutes ago that two young woman were attacked and

gang raped by a group of men twenty minutes ago in Ely.”

Craig’s mind couldn’t take it in. He tossed the paper cup in the sink and coffee

splattered. “Where? What part of Ely?”

“Near Corner Street and First Street.”
Craig’s throat ached, his body instantly tight, as if waiting to block a body blow.
Dace looked more humbled than Craig had ever seen him. “Craig…the women were

killed.”

Everything in Craig’s world swirled in slow motion, his heart banging in agonizing

thuds. “Jesus.”

Craig didn’t wait. He left the room at a brisk walk, heading toward the main squad

room. Dace followed. Craig dropped into a chair at the first desk, intent on calling his
contact with the city police department. He couldn’t call Mick and alarm him. Not until
he knew what the hell had happened and if—

Shit. He couldn’t think about it without his entire mind spinning.
“I need to find out.” Craig’s throat went so dry he could barely speak. “I need to get

the description of the women.”

Dace stayed quiet, his face grim.
Darren Hanford at Gold Rush Police Department came on the line quickly when

Craig called.

“Hey, Craig. How’s it going?”
“Not so good. I need to find out if you’ve identified the women killed tonight in

Ely.”

“Oh, man. Wish I could say. They’re at the morgue right now. There wasn’t any

identification on them. Probably a couple of crack whores.”

Craig wanted to throttle the man. “Shit.” Craig’s head started to throb. “I’ve gotta

know. I’ll go down to the morgue—”

“Wait. You think you know them? I can tell you what I know so far. One of them is

short…about five three or four. She was slim, with golden hair. The other one is tall, but I
don’t recall her hair coloring.”

“Oh, God.” Craig’s heart dropped into his shoes, his soul sinking somewhere he

would never find it again. “I think I know them.”

“Oh, shit, man. Who?”
“Leigh Strong. A friend.” His throat was so dry he could barely swallow to say the

horrible words. “And Celeste…my brother’s fiancée.”

“Christ. I’m sorry. You’d better try and come down here right away.”
Craig’s personal cell phone rang. He almost ignored it. “I’ll be right down. I have

another call.”

Craig hung up and grabbed his cell phone off his belt. Dazed by a swarm of emotions

he couldn’t immediately identify, he looked at the screen on the phone.

Shock and relief slammed into his gut.
Leigh.
“It’s Leigh.” He almost gasped the words to Dace. He had enough time to see Dace’s

face break into a smile and then the man moved away to give him privacy. “Leigh?”

“Hey.” Her precious voice teased his ears like a dream. He was half afraid he was

imagining it. “I give in. What’s so important you had to call six times in the last two
hours?”

Craig closed his eyes and swallowed hard. His stomach tossed so violently he

wanted to throw up. His reply came out as a growl. “Where the hell were you?”

Leigh made a noise that sounded like indignation. “You know already. I was at

Helga Swanson’s house finishing up a change with the cake. Honestly, you’re being—”

“Damn it, Leigh.” He snapped the response. “Two women were gang raped and

murdered by a group of men on the same street as Helga’s house. I just heard about it.”

“Oh, God.” She swallowed so loud he could hear it. “How horrible. It was creepy as

hell tonight. The street lights weren’t working, the whole area was dark. When we left
Helga’s house there was…oh…”

“Oh?” Impatience added a harsh tone to the word.
“When Celeste and I started to leave Helga’s house, there were three men close to

my car. We went back inside the house until they left. Do you think those men could
have been the ones who attacked those poor women?”

“It’s possible.” He opened his eyes, still fighting an overwhelming fear he didn’t

understand. It scared the shit out of him that he couldn’t corral his feelings.

It was if she wasn’t talking to him now. As if she really had been the victim of the

horrific crime. He stood up and started to pace.

“I’m sorry if I stressed you out.” Her voice was soft and gentle now.
“I wasn’t stressed.”
“You must have been so worried.”
He stopped pacing, his heart still banging in his ribcage. “Something like that.”
“Well, were you or weren’t you worried?”
“I don’t want you going there during the day and sure as hell not at night.”
“Is that so? In case you’ve forgotten, I do this for a living and there will be other

weddings—”

He returned to pacing. “I don’t give a fuck about other weddings and I sure as hell

don’t give a fuck about a stupid cake. If I can’t go with you, you aren’t going at all.”

“You are unbelievable.”
“Nothing not to believe, I say what I mean.”
“You were worried about me when I didn’t answer the phone, and now because

you’re too blocked up to admit it, you’re bullying me?” Her voice rose.

“I’d give the same advice to any woman—”
“You’re full of it, Craig MacGilvary and I don’t appreciate your tone.”
Anger started to overwhelm his other feelings. “It’s the cop in me.”
“I figured that. You like telling people what to do and issuing ultimatums.”
His blood pressure felt like it was going through the roof. “It’s not an ultimatum, it’s

common sense.”

“So now you’re calling me senseless? I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I

won’t put up with a man who speaks to me this way. I also don’t want to hang out with a
man who never stops being a cop. Especially one who is a big pain in the ass and who
hasn’t got a clue how to communicate.”

“Fine,” he gritted between his teeth. “We’ll just talk about the wedding preparations

then.”

“Forget it. I don’t need or want your help any longer.”
She hung up.
Craig wanted to crush the phone with his bare hands. Instead he walked out of the

office and straight outside into the night. The rain had stopped, the night smelling of
moisture. Clouds in the distance still flashed lightning. He sucked in a deep breath as his
anger left him and was replaced by realization.

Fuck me.
Leigh was right about his attitude.
He didn’t like it one damn bit, though. He struggled, wrestling with his emotions.

Then he knew what he had to do. He had to go over to her house and apologize for
coming unglued.

* * * *

At ten o’clock that night someone knocked on Leigh’s front door. She stared at the

door, surprised and at the same time cautious. All her friends would call before coming
over. At least the electricity had been restored thirty minutes ago. She’d sat on the couch

for the last two hours fuming.

Her heart ached over Craig’s attitude, the way he’d yelled at her on the phone. Anger

overlaid the hurt, and she took a deep breath. She stood and went to the door.

She snapped on the porch light and looked through the peephole. One glance

revealed a disheveled Craig in a dark t-shirt. He looked hard, lethal. Cold and even a bit
haggard. She’d never seen him look this used up. She was half tempted to leave him on
the porch. She took the chain off, then the deadbolt and opened the door.

“Hey,” he said softly, the low throb of his voice coasting over her like a caress. “Can

I come in?”

Leigh’s heart banged. “Why are you here?”
Standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he displayed a lost expression that

surprised her.

“Please?” The unusual desperation in his tone surprised her. “I need to apologize.”
Apologize. Now that did surprise her. So much so she couldn’t speak.
He shuffled his feet. “I don’t have to like that you went to Ely, but I also didn’t have

to be so rude about it. I just…”

For once the man seemed to have no control of his words, his articulate self. Another

surprise.

She stared at him for a few seconds, uncertain. She finally backed away from the

door and allowed him to come inside. As he stared at her, his expression softened, then
filled with intense emotion. She’d no sooner closed and relocked the door when he
tugged her into his embrace and held tight.

“Craig?”
He kissed her forehead, her nose, her ear. He buried his face in her hair and linked

his arms tighter about her waist. Hard man pressed against her. His stalwart chest,
stomach, thighs…it all brought her to full awareness of him as a strong, virile man. This
wasn’t a man who disliked or hated her and wished she’d just leave him alone. Here was
a guy who showed that he cared for her deeply.

More than that, despite the heat still penetrating the night, his embrace felt like

heaven. She laid her head against his shoulder and sank into the pleasure of the moment.
His hands smoothed up her back. He cupped her head and held her with a tenderness that
weakened her knees. He buried his face in her hair and linked his arms tighter around her
waist.

A tremor ran along his body and didn’t stop.
Oh, God.
All thought centered on his reaction.
Alarmed, she squeezed him and slipped her hands upward until she encircled his

neck. “Craig, what’s wrong?”

His eyes reflected a strange sorrow she didn’t understand. “I really am sorry I was

such an asshole earlier.”

Her question popped out. “Which time?” She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a soft

laugh. “Oh, shit. Sorry I said that.”

Pain flashed through his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I deserved that. You told me off. You

said you didn’t want me to help you any more, and I respect that. If it’s still what you
want.”

Did she? She didn’t know yet.

He sighed, the sound long and heavy and filled with emotions too numerous to

mention. “When I thought you were dead…”

He swallowed hard, and Leigh comprehended something she hadn’t before. “Instead

of saying you were worried, you got angry.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and released her.
She lamented losing his embrace, but the wonder she felt replaced it. “Let’s sit

down.”

As they settled on the couch, the quiet around them seemed alive with possibilities,

with a hope. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs as he perused her.

His eyes reflected sorrow. “I haven’t felt this idiotic in a long time.”
“You were angry because you care about me,” she said, tenderness filling her.
A lopsided smile worked its way over his mouth. “Yeah.” His gaze came up and

tangled with hers. “I really do.”

“Do you understand why I resisted when you told me not to go to Ely? When you

demanded rather than asked?”

He looked at the floor. “I let my worry show in the only way I know how.”
When his gaze returned to Leigh, she saw an honesty within his eyes. Sudden

warmth stirred inside her. Time slowed, flowed and made her so aware of him she
wanted to reach out for his hand.

“When you’re worried about your family do you get testy with them?” she asked.
“Sometimes.”
She heard a story there, waiting to escape. “How do they react?”
“If it’s my brothers they indulge me or tell me to fuck off very nicely.”
She grinned. “I haven’t indulged you yet.”
“Probably good for me.”
“And your mother?”
“She never indulges me. She might say, ‘Craig you’re growling again.’ Cops can’t

always afford to show feelings, to show worry or fear.”

His revealing statement floored her once more. She yearned to learn more, to peel

away his hardened shell until the softer side emerged.

“I know where my worry comes from,” he said. “It wasn’t until tonight that the light

bulb came on.”

Now we’re getting somewhere.
She shifted until she leaned her shoulder against the back of the couch. “Tell me.”
Struggle played over his features, a man searching for answers, too. A man unsure

that he wanted to tell all. His eyes darkened with an approaching storm. “I don’t know
where to begin.”

“At the beginning.”
“Right.” His voice went throaty, as emotion rose inside and forced remembrance of a

time and placed he’d probably rather forget. “I was a juvenile delinquent. I joined a gang.
A mixed race gang of kids nine to seventeen.”

“Here in Gold Rush?”
“El Torro County. Fifty kids from broken homes wanting to belong to something. I

was fourteen when I stole the books and tapes from my father.” He went silent a moment,
as if tracing his memory. “Anyway, there was this girl I really liked in the gang. Tabitha.
She was only fourteen, too.”

“So young.”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “We were platonic friends for six

months. We kissed and fooled around, but I knew we weren’t ready for sex.”

“You were very mature for your age to realize that.”
He laughed softly, a sound of derision. “She pressed the issue, believe it or not. One

day she confessed she was pregnant.”

Shock held her still for a moment. “You went ahead and had sex?”
“No.” His mouth was tight. “I freaked. I was hurt, jealous, you name it. Then she

confessed what had happened.” A spasm crossed his features. “Her father was
responsible for her condition.”

Oh. “Her father? Oh, God. Incest.”
He slumped against the back of the couch and folded his hands over his stomach.

“You can imagine how sick I was. Her mother had died and that’s when her father
flipped out and starting sleeping in her bed. He’d slept with her in the same bed for two
years. I wanted to kill him.”

“I can imagine.”
“I tried to get her to talk to a school counselor. She wouldn’t. She wanted an abortion

but didn’t have the money.”

Leigh shivered, sick at heart that Craig and Tabitha had gone through such pain. Her

stomach did a flip imagining what the girl had suffered at her father’s hands.

“Did you get the money for her with the books and tapes sale?”
He nodded. “I gave her the money. She didn’t make it to the clinic.” He swallowed

hard once more. “One of the other gang members—an older girl—she drove her to the
clinic. Their car was sideswiped by a semi and they were killed.”

Craig’s sorrow cut through her like a knife. “That’s horrible.” She scooted close and

touched his hands. How else could she express her sympathy as she sat in the quiet?

Craig turned his hands over and gathered hers close. He drew her fingers to his

mouth and pressed a sweet kiss there. “It’s all in the past. But if I care about someone I
forget the right way to tell them. My fear overwhelms me.”

He whispered into her fingers, and his warm breath teased. She shivered, pleasure a

part of the moment despite the sad story.

“Do you think you feel guilty about Tabitha’s death?”
“I did. Maybe I’m trying to protect my loved ones because I couldn’t protect her.”
His loved ones? What did that say about her place in his life? “You did your best to

help her and yet you couldn’t save her.”

“Yeah. My gang—the Hawks—they were family. Not the foster family. Not the

social workers. My loyalty to the gang was pretty intense.”

“Until you met Justice and Arlene.”
Another gentle kiss skimmed her knuckles. A slow tingle snaked through her lower

belly.

“They turned my life around.” He turned toward her, his arm slipping behind her

shoulders to draw her into his body. “You’ve shown me a thing or two.”

“Oh?” She smiled. “Such as?”
He didn’t smile back, gaze intent and serious. “When I heard the description of the

women killed in Ely tonight and it was in the area you were planning to go—” He
faltered. “It tore me up.” His eyes, as gray as storm clouds, reflected torment, boiling

with emotion. “It felt like someone was ripping me in two.”

The passion in his gaze sparked a giddy craving throughout her body. She sank into

his arms with a sigh.

His fingers shifted through her hair. “If I don’t allow myself to feel, I can’t be hurt,

right? I know it’s irrational as hell, but anger I can deal with. Anger feels righteous.”

“You didn’t tell your foster father the real reason why you stole the tapes and books,

did you? And you didn’t tell the cops the money was for Tabitha’s abortion.”

He shook his head and winced. “Never.”
Sadness deepened in his eyes.
“And you thought maybe my father abused me? Lorded it over me?”
He nodded. “It crossed my mind. It made me a little crazy thinking you might have

been an abused child.” She brushed her fingers over his jaw line, memorizing and
caressing. “Does anyone else know this story? Your family?”

“No one. Just you.”
“You trust me that much?” She heard the awe in her own voice.
“Crazy, isn’t it? I’m sorry I was a jerk about things. I reacted badly.”
She smiled. “Maybe a little.”
He chuckled.
He tasted her lips with hot, drugging intensity, teasing and tempting with promise.

Breathless and needing more, she fell into his touch without hesitation. As his warm
breath caressed her neck, she shivered in a sweet ecstasy that demanded more.

She savored the closeness as he showed her a new side of himself. She clung to the

moment. The heat. The glow that filled her heart and sent crazy delight dancing through
her.

His eyes stayed haunted. “When you told me your parents were in the porn industry,

it reminded me of those damn tapes I stole.”

Ah, now they were on to something
“No. My parents aren’t like that.”
“I know your father isn’t like Tabitha’s, but it made me want to protect you even

more. I know I don’t need to take care of you. You’re sassy. Confident.” His index finger
traced a gossamer path along the neckline of her sloppy gray t-shirt. “God knows you
know how to kick my ass.”

She laughed. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Not a chance. And you care about your friends, and you’re patient as hell with me.”
Amused and touched, she said, “Now you’re making me sound better than I

deserve.”

“You asked me to tell you what I feel. This is the truth. Now you know why I flipped

out when I knew you planned to go to Ely. Tabitha had the accident in Ely. That’s where
Tabitha died.”

All of it made more sense now. “When those poor women were killed tonight, it was

a nightmare come true for you…when you thought it was me.”

He cupped her face. “One of the worst feelings I’ve had in a long time.”
He caressed her throat, tangled his fingers in her hair. His lips touched her jaw,

nibbled as they slid across to her lips.

One kiss led to another, until the power of their connection flowed like electricity.

Hot. Alive. Dying to explode.

Chapter Eleven

Craig swept her back into his arms, his touch a warm and welcome embrace Leigh

wanted with an ache that started deep within. His hands traced her with gentle touches,
every movement as if he feared her fragile. Leigh shivered under his attention, then
realized she didn’t want to wait, didn’t need a build up to want him with a fierceness that
bordered on violent. She reached for his t-shirt and started to tug it upward.

He drew back. “Wait. I have an idea. Put on some music. Sexy music.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Before she knew what he planned, he stood and moved across the room.
With this man it felt natural to release, to let go now they’d spoken to each other on

an intimate and personal level. What she thought she’d known about Craig all those
months ago when they first met clearly wasn’t the truth. Integrity and courage and truth
lived inside him, but so did gentleness, compassion, and maybe, if she was fortunate,
love.

Love.
It struck her as he stood watching her that she’d striven so hard not to feel anything

but female appreciation for his physical form. Whether she liked it or not, she’d fallen
under his spell.

Oh, God. I’m falling for him.
It frightened and thrilled her on so many levels she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.
His answering grin held pure sexual promise. That promise stirred hot desires. She

went to her sound system set up with an iPod. She found a sensual play list featuring a
slow jazz tunes by Chris Botti.

As the music throbbed and flowed, she settled on the couch to watch. If she expected

him to feel embarrassed, she was dead wrong.

Craig started slow dance movements. His hips circled, the swing-and-bump timed to

the music with perfect cadence. She alternated her attention between the sensual hunger
in his eyes, and the amazing coordination he displayed as he danced. The man isn’t just
talented. He’s hot.

Raw sexuality poured from him, inherent in each move. With slow deliberation he

took off his t-shirt. He danced toward her, and when he reached Leigh, he slipped the t-
shirt around her neck. His scent clung to the fabric; hot, spicy musk that added fuel to the
fire already building inside her.

Whoa.
The sight of his sculpted flesh sent a fresh trickle of arousal spilling through her. Her

breasts felt larger, fuller, more sensitive. Her breath came faster, and a sweet tingle
started between her legs.

Leigh became obsessed with his muscles. Biceps flexed, forearms powerful,

shoulders wide, chest sculpted to perfection. A sprinkling of darker hair coasted over his
pecs and down in a scattering line down his stomach until it vanished under denim. She
itched to explore, to touch, and when he danced close to her she reached out, dying to feel
his abs. He danced out of her reach.

An involuntary sound of frustration left her lips. “Damn you, MacGilvary.”
She expected to smile, but that dead-serious, hell-bent-on-driving-her-nuts

expression stayed in his eyes. “Slow. We’ll take this slow.”

She didn’t want slow. She wanted hard, fast, driving sex that wouldn’t give her a

chance to worry about not coming.

No, damn it. Don’t think about that.
Thinking like that had always ruined sex for her. Anxiety trickled into her awareness.
No. Concentrate on him.
Luckily, it wasn’t hard.
He pulled off his athletic shoes and socks, and his big feet moved over the carpet

with ease. “Like this?”

“It’s the sexiest strip tease I’ve ever seen.” She could barely get the words out. She

practically drooled as he came closer again, tormenting her with possibilities. Cal Tate
had nothing on this man. “I wish I had a dollar bill.”

“Why?”
“So I could slip it into your briefs.”
Eyes burning, he reached into his back pocket and drew out his wallet. He tossed it

to her. “Get a bill out of there.”

Holy cow. Aroused as hell, she dug through his wallet until she found a dollar bill.

She tossed the wallet on the table next to the couch.

She waved the dollar bill. “Come here.”
“Bossy.”
“You’d better believe it.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’m.”
He drifted toward her, never loosing the music as he moved.
When he stood in front of her, she had to take a deep breath. His jeans rode low on

his hips. “Take off your jeans.”

Without argument, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. A drum throbbed in the

background of the song, echoing the steady beat of her heart as her excitement built.

Craig shoved the jeans down his legs and drew them off. He kicked them aside. His

continued dance turned him around, the violence of his tattoo, the movement of the
dragon an erotic sight she couldn’t resist. His tight backside made her want to cup and
squeeze the perfect flesh.

Leigh’s arousal burned from deep inside, dying to find release. She couldn’t recall

the last time she’d wanted a man like this. Had she desired a man with such
wholehearted, out-of-her-head passion? No. Not until Craig.

She pressed one hand over his abs, felt the clear demarcation of well-formed

muscles. Her fingertips tingled. With the other hand, she slipped the dollar bill in the
waistband of his briefs. She was half tempted to pull the briefs down his legs. The other
part of her wanted to tease.

God, this was torment.
Ecstasy hovered out of reach, but she hoped to find it shortly within his embrace.

And oh, from the looks of him, she wouldn’t have long to wait.

His black briefs cupped an impressive, full erection that showed no doubt how much

he wanted to make love. Her attention stayed with his impressive anatomy.

“Take them off,” he whispered with rough, sensual demand.

Oh, yes.
She reached for the waistband, fingers actually trembling. “I’ve never undressed a

man like this.”

His eyes held a wealth of erotic heat, and yet she thought she saw vulnerability in

there, too. “A woman’s never undressed me.”

When she peeled his briefs downward and he kicked them aside, she stared with

shameless admiration. His cock was thick and long, the swollen length robust and sure to
please. She ached. Wanted. Desired that fullness inside her more than any physical need
she’d ever experienced. She had to get him inside her quickly.

The music stopped but he didn’t, turning until she saw his tattoo again, the violence

and decadence of it reminding her that she still didn’t know how or when he’d received
it. Then her gaze snagged on his world-class, impressive ass again, and the violent dragon
ceased to exist. Here was a man with a wealth of mystery, an amazing body and seductive
skills she never would have guessed.

“You are so hot,” she whispered as he turned back to her.
A wicked smile took over his mouth. “Thank you.” Once more he held out his hand.

“Dance with me.”

She complied, leaving her clothes on as she swayed in his arms. All along her body

his nakedness tantalized and teased. His cock a hard and ever-present reminder of what
he wanted. She groaned softly as his hands stole under her t-shirt to skim her ribs, to
palm her waist. He kissed her deeply, his tongue a relentless invader she welcomed.
Stroke after stroke fired the desire between her legs, and she grew hot and moist. She
wriggled, wanting that pressure closer, snuggling to find a neater fit.

His mouth found her ear, breathing hotly and sending shivers of desire through her

belly. She quaked with it, craved it.

“Please.” She almost whimpered the word.
He kissed her neck as his hands swept under her t-shirt and cupped one breast. She

gasped. As if understanding the torment going on inside her, she pulled her t-shirt over
her head and tossed it away. She reached for her jeans and within seconds drew them
down her legs and off, along with her underwear. She discarded her socks.

He dropped to his knees, his hands cupping her hips. And then she understood what

he wanted. He urged her to part her legs. He drew in her scent, and the sensual abandon
on his face heightened her desire to a pinpoint, the ache building to her womb.

As her hands buried in his short hair, his tongue swept into her folds.
Music rose as if on cue, throbbing and rich like her desire.
She gasped again, excitement darting from her aroused clit. Leigh closed her eyes

and sighed, falling into pure sensation as his tongue smoothed, feathered, caressed along
her outer lips. He tickled sensitive points, then dipped in between to thrust with quick
movements that mimicked cock into pussy.

Breathing hard as her arousal shot upward, she couldn’t stop words from rushing out.

“Please. Oh, God. Craig.”

The strain in her voice rose as she shimmied in his grip, tortured and pleased all at

once as his tongue once more fluttered over her clit. Just when she thought she couldn’t
take another moment, he sank two fingers deep inside her. She cried out at the exquisite
feeling. Her walls fluttered, pulsed around the intruders.

It was there. Right there.

For a second she stiffened, left in that terrible place where ecstasy hovered but would

never arrive.

“Craig,” she said in desperation.
“It’s okay.” His husky voice soothed. “Trust me.”
And she realized she really did.
She trusted him with her body.
With her life.
As he thrust his fingers in and out, his tongue bathed her clit with ever quickening

strokes.

And with a bliss that echoed all the way to her heart, she fell straight in.
Orgasm flashed, caught fire, bore her up on a wave so high she cried out loudly. She

sobbed with it, carried along as he let her down from the top.

When she opened her eyes, he looked up at her. A man had never worshipped her on

his knees before, and the heady power in that moment drove her to ask for more.

“That was fuckin’ beautiful,” he said.
She made a soft laugh, a half broken, amazed sound. She didn’t know what to say at

first, stunned.

He smiled and stood.
Craig lifted her into his arms and she squealed in delight. Yeah, it was a supremely

girly noise, but she couldn’t help it. A man had never carried her to bed. Now she’d
discover what this man was like, what it would feel like to have his cock buried deep
where she ached the most. And ache she did.

Craig dumped her on the bed and came down beside her. His hand went to her breast

and his tongue swept over her nipple, washing and painting with delicate and hot strokes
until she squirmed. She’d thought one orgasm would be enough. Yet the ache between
her legs built again, a torture of craving so strong she couldn’t stand it any longer.

She grasped at his shoulders. “Please. God, I need…”
“What do you need?” His hot eyes implored her.
Waiting was no longer an alternative. “I need you inside me now. Fast. Hard.”
With a soft smile, he said, “I didn’t bring any condoms with me.”
“I have some in the bedside table.”
It didn’t take long for him to find them, to open one and cover himself. He wasted no

more time. She parted her legs, and he lowered his hips between her thighs. Propped on
his forearms, he teased her opening with his cock head. She gasped in delight. As he
covered her mouth with his and his tongue thrust, so did his cock. Slow, steady and deep.
She wriggled, arching her hips to help him sink to the end. Oh. Oh, yes. He came up hard
all the way to her womb, and his cock pressed her open, wide and long. Orgasm
clamored, demanded immediate compliance.

“Oh, babe.” Craig’s voice caught, his eyes closed as he kept still, holding them both

on the edge. “God, you feel good.”

And then the motion came.
As his hips rocked, she moaned softly, the pleasure so heady she never wanted it to

end. They’d waited for this moment for too long, denied their needs over posturing. As he
caressed her with long, urgent thrusts, ecstasy sideswiped her within a few short seconds.
She gasped loudly, her hips arching into his as she convulsed, coming around his cock
with a ferocity that held her breath captive. She moaned at the peak, her eyes closing,

head thrown back.

She sobbed for breath, amazed and joyful. He’d given her a gift she’d never

experienced before, and emotions crashed in on her. Delight. Overwhelming pleasure.

Craig watched her come, reveling in the spine-melting sensation of her body

clenching, rippling over his flesh. Male pride roared inside him.

She’d come on his cock, and that was the biggest fuckin’ turn on he could imagine.
He gritted his teeth in desperation, in overwhelming need to continue pumping and

thrusting until his body took over. Instead he resisted with all his strength. God, she was
the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen. That he’d made her come so quickly fueled his
ego, and yet tender feelings washed over him at the same time. If she thought it was over,
she was very wrong. As he looked down on her flushed face, her lips swollen with
passion and parted, his heart stumbled and took a fall. He poured his gut-wrenching and
primal desires into his motion, drawing back and plunging deep.

Hot, wet friction made him lose his mind. He shook, he panted, he drove harder into

her silken core. All the time he watched her. Her entire body participated in their carnal
dance. Her head tossed back and forth, her breath stuttered, her whimpers and moans
flew freely and urgently. As he powered through one hard thrust and another, he fucked
with steady, unrelenting strength.

Her hands clasped at his shoulders, demanding and begging. Her hips tilted, as if

trying to get more of him inside her. “Please, Craig. God, please.”

He turned mindless, filling her again and again.
She gasped, then moaned loudly as another orgasm wracked her body.
Through the haze of emotion, the desire to give her everything, he came apart at the

seams. With one last, hard thrust, he exploded inside her, ecstasy filling his body with
one hot wave after another. He sank upon her and went still.

* * * *

Craig drifted in a sexual daze, taking in the quiet of his surroundings as his body

finally cooled down from the best sex he’d ever had.

The fact that he’d given her an orgasm, that he’d been the man to show her that

pleasure, filled him with satisfaction deeper than anything he’d felt in a long time. Jesus,
she was…hell, he didn’t know how to describe it. Fucking fantastic.

His mind whirled, satiated, longing for sleep yet unable to free his mind from the

incredible sex.

Unlike some women he’d been with, she didn’t seem inclined to talk. Part of him

liked that, the other part concerned him.

“That was amazing,” she said suddenly.
He tightened his arms around her. With a tenderness he felt deep in his chest, he

kissed her forehead. “Damn straight.”

“Thank you.”
He laughed. “Thank you?”
“For making me…”
Her lack of ability to supply the right words surprised him. He took a gamble.

“Making you come?”

She propped up on her elbow and looked down at him. In the dim light, he saw the

amusement and wonder in her face. She seemed to almost glow from within, and a secret
part of him wanted to howl with pride that he’d done that with her. The moment
stretched, and he also didn’t have the right words to describe what he felt.

“Yes,” she said softly. “You made me feel things I’ve never felt before.” After

another long silence, she said, “Where does this leave us?”

Good question. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
A tiny frown formed on her lips. “Are we crazy, Craig? I mean, nuts for even getting

involved like this.”

He almost smiled, but the gravity of her question hit him. He tucked one strand of

her hair behind her ear. “Probably. This won’t be easy. It’s difficult for a lot of women to
date a SWAT officer. We are on twenty-four seven. All year round.”

Her fingers spread over his stomach, and as she caressed him, he sucked in a breath

at how good it felt.

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen how it affects Celeste.”
“And I’m not going to just all of a sudden stop worrying about you. I’m

hypersensitive all the time, even when there is no danger.”

Exasperation covered her face. “Are you trying to warn me off?”
“Hell, no. Just dealing with realities here.”
Silently Leigh brushed her fingers over his chest, and his nipples hardened as she

teased them. He sucked in a breath and groaned. “Keep that up and you’ll get more than
you bargained for.”

She grinned. “Think so?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. She leaned forward and

licked one of his nipples. “How does that feel?”

“Fucking fantastic.” She laughed, but didn’t stop the torment. Her small hand slipped

around his rapidly hardening cock. “Oh, God.”

He closed his eyes, his body aching to be deep inside her body again, to see bliss

cross her face. He rolled her over on her back and kissed her deeply until the heat started
to boil in his veins.

Craig pulled back to look deeply into her eyes. The understanding he saw there made

him want her even more.

She cupped his face. “Let’s take this one day at a time. I know you’re a cop, and I

know the realities of that job. I need time, too. I don’t know how I’m going to react every
time you go all bossy on me. And I know you’re going to be bossy again.”

He smiled. “Yeah, probably.”
Craig’s cell phone rang as it lay on the bed stand.
“Shit.” He reached for the bedside light and illuminated the room. He grabbed the

phone. “Hello.”

“MacGilvary?”
At first Craig didn’t process who was on the line. The young voice sounded

frightened and unsure.

“It’s Dane,” the young man said.
“Dane?” Craig came fully awake, poised for action. “What’s wrong?”
“My mom—”
Craig waited and his breath caught. “What about her?”
“She’s uh…I’m at the hospital.”
Anger lifted Craig into straight sitting position. “Are you hurt?”

Craig became aware of Leigh next to him as she sat up in bed.
“No. My mom is. She hit my dad with a baseball bat.”
“Jesus.” Craig winced. He didn’t make a habit of cursing in front of kids, but this

situation came out of left field, no pun intended. “She didn’t hurt you?”

“She swung at me first because I told her I ain’t buying alcohol for her anymore.”
A pang of guilt hit Craig. He’d told the kid to take this course of action. Craig put the

phone on speaker and placed it on the bed stand. He grabbed his jeans.

As Craig dressed he asked, “Then what happened?”
“Dad stepped in front of her and got hit by the bat. In the stomach and head. She was

really pissed. I ran outta the house to my friend next door. They called 911. When Mom
hit Dad, I guess she thought she’d killed him. She took a knife from the kitchen, went in
the bathroom and…”

Craig’s stomach cramped, and he sat on the bed. “What did she do?”
“Slit her wrists.”
Craig closed his eyes and felt Leigh’s hand on his shoulder. “Is she…”
“She ain’t dead. She’s…the EMT guys got to her in time. And Dad, too. They’ll

live.”

Underlying the calm in Dane’s voice, Craig heard a plea. “Dane, stay where you are.

I’ll be right there, all right? Who is with you now?”

“Some lady from an agency.”
“Can I talk with her?”
“Yeah.”
Dane turned the phone over to a woman who identified herself as Miriam Peacock of

Child Protective Services.

“I’m sorry, Deputy MacGilvary. I didn’t realize he was going to call you. I stepped

away a second to check on his parents.”

“I told him he could call me. I busted him, but I think he trusts me. I’d like come

down there and talk with him.”

“I don’t think that’s really necessary.”
Craig’s patience wasn’t good at this time of the morning. For Dane, though, he’d

lose a good night’s sleep. “It’s necessary. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“All right.” The woman still sounded reluctant.
“Miss Peacock, Dane trusts me and right now the kid needs to talk to a familiar face

and someone who will listen and understand—”

“I am trained to listen young people in trouble and to seek refuge for him in these

situations.”

“I agree, and I’m trained to deal with juvenile offenders and can talk on his level. I’ll

see you both in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.” Miriam Peacock said. “We’ll see you ASAP.”
Craig stood and disconnected the call. He turned to Leigh.
Leigh rose from the bed and reached for her clothes. “I’ll go with you.”
As he drew his t-shirt over his head, he watched her. Every fluid, confident motion

outlined her beauty. Her skin was pale and perfect, curves lush and toned—fuck—she
was beautiful. More than lust twisted him in knots.

“Craig?”
He stared, and she stared back. She came toward him, and when she arrived beside

Chapter Twelve

As they drove to the hospital in his SUV, Leigh saw Craig return to what she could

only describe as his “cop” face.

He’s worried about Dane. That’s all.
Given to overanalyzing, she allowed her brain to run on full boil as Craig steered

through the quiet streets. Gold Rush had rolled up the sidewalks hours ago.

Was she cut out for a relationship that turned this intense this quickly? Maybe he’d

been right to warn her about life with a cop. Understanding the concept was a hell of a lot
different than living it.

She tried shoving that idea to the background, but found it impossible. She churned

inside with guilt. Dane was important now, not her relationship with Craig. Making
certain the boy was safe and taken care of was top priority. Craig’s desire to help fueled
her own.

Once inside the hospital waiting room, she noted the usual features. A flat screen

television ran a twenty-four hour news channel. A half dozen people, including a boy
dressed in a long black trench coat and huge black boots, occupied the waiting room.
Hell, the boy was dressed in black t-shirt and pants, too. A monstrous skull graced his
black t-shirt.

The boy’s long dark hair fell over his forehead in disarray and when he saw them,

Leigh took pause. Though the kid’s gangly frame and adolescent awkwardness made him
all ears, feet, and hands, she saw his potential as an adult. Craig had said Dane was
twelve, but she noted the seriousness and maturity in striking dark eyes. The piercing
intensity in that gaze shocked her. This kid had seen too much ugliness in his lifetime.

She recognized where she’d seen it all before. Craig’s eyes.
Craig sank onto the hard, hospital couch next to the boy. “Hey, you all right?”
“Yeah.” Dane’s voice had a surly edge.
A woman hurried down the hallway toward them. She wore a royal blue blazer and

pants. Her long, curly blonde hair and distinctive features reminded Leigh of Nicole
Kidman. So did her elegant pretty face. She came straight for them, all business.

“Deputy MacGilvary?”
Craig rose to his feet. “Miss Peacock.”
The woman was so tall that in heels she topped six feet and then some. She was at

least as tall as Craig. She shook hands with Craig and he introduced her to Leigh. The
woman didn’t smile, but she seemed pleasant enough. Craig had already introduced Dane
to Leigh, but the kid had little to say. His glanced stayed glued to his feet. Leigh couldn’t
blame him.

Miriam sat on one side of Dane, while Craig took the other side.
“I checked on your father’s condition. He’s still critical. Your mother will be

transferred to county jail tomorrow if the doctors say she can be released, and charged
with assault.”

Dane’s eyes remained unemotional, almost cold. Maybe he’d become a master at

hiding pain.

“A judge has given us an Emergency Custody Authorization.”

“His friend’s parents are foster parents, right?” Craig asked.
Miriam nodded. “We know the Reynolds family. They’re qualified to take Dane on a

temporary basis. They’ve already agreed to it.”

Leigh saw relief on Craig’s face. The tight lines around his mouth eased.
“What happens to me next?” Dane asked.
Miriam turned her full attention on the boy. “I doubt your parents will be able to

have a shelter hearing with you.”

Dane’s normally impassive look changed to confusion. “What’s that?”
Craig cleared his throat. “It’s a court proceeding where Child Protective Services and

your parents stand in front of a judge. CPS presents a case on why you should be placed
with a safe home environment.”

Miriam smiled at Craig, then at the boy. “If the judges says okay, you remain in

foster care or other shelter. A petition hearing comes after that. We declare then whether
you’re considered officially dependent and under the state’s care. It can take at least a
month before this hearing, though.”

Dane’s face returned to defiant. He looked at the floor again. “Whatever.”
Wonderful. This wasn’t going to be easy.
Suddenly Dane looked up at Craig. “Why can’t I stay with you?”
“His schedule is too unstable,” Miriam said. “He’s gone a lot.”
Craig reached out and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I couldn’t be with you

enough. But we can do things together. I help out sometimes at the Boy’s Club,
remember? We could spend time there. And if CPS allows it, and your foster parents
allow it, we could play basketball, hang out.”

Dane’s eyes clouded again. “Right.”
Craig released the boy, his eyes worried. She’d seen a lot of emotions cross his face

in the last day, and it proved to her once and for all that under his tough façade, Craig
MacGilvary harbored deep feelings he didn’t like showing just anyone. Yet he’d revealed
them all to her. Tenderness, caring, affection. Strong convictions with flexibility and an
open mind. Like it or not, that made her heart open to him even more.

Damn it, Leigh. Falling for this cop had been too damn easy.
“We’d better go,” Miriam said to Craig. “Dane, I’ll take you to the Reynolds’

house—”

“No.” Dane’s loud voice made other people in the waiting room take notice of their

little group. “I want Craig to take me.”

Dane’s outburst made everyone pause. After a few seconds silence, Miriam said,

“Deputy MacGilvary, would you mind?”

Craig shook his head. “Of course not.”
Dane’s quiet as they drove him to his friend’s home concerned Leigh, but Craig’s

silence worried her almost as much.

They pulled up alongside the curb at Reynolds, and Craig turned to Dane in the

backseat. “I’m going in with you.”

Craig spared her a glance, and she quickly said, “I’ll stay right here.”
Dane nodded, and they left the car without another word. Craig came back a short

time later, and he didn’t have much to say then, either. She stayed equally wordless,
understanding on an instinctual level that he needed to process what had happened to
Dane. Perhaps bad memories assaulted Craig, and he didn’t want to share.

When they reached her house it was three-thirty in the morning. They walked in, and

the awkwardness felt thick.

“Maybe I should go home,” he said.
“Stay. It’s three-thirty in the morning.”
“I’m not sure I can sleep.”
She sighed softly, her voice low. “Then don’t sleep.”
She opened the blinds on the sliding glass doors in the living room and Craig stared

at the sky. Leigh watched him.

He fascinated her. The t-shirt shirt couldn’t hide the sculpted male beauty of hard

muscle. The way his jeans cupped his lean hips and the muscled perfection of his ass
caused her loins to stir in unexpected arousal. Admiring him and craving another
connection came easy. She moved toward him, aware rejection might come if his
thoughts still wrapped around Dane’s troubles. He might want to be alone. As he stared
into the night and sparkling diamond stars, she wondered what went on in that handsome
head.

She placed one hand on his right shoulder and dared gaze into his eyes. “You want

coffee? I don’t think I could sleep either.” She paused, then dove in. “Are you okay?” she
asked softly.

“No.” He looked away, all repressed male and hard ass mixed into one.
Wonderful. He’d return to the cool, non-communicative man she’d first believed him

to be. Yet she knew his calm, regimented exterior hid a hot, passionate man.

Leigh squeezed his shoulder. “Dane will be okay. Peacock will make sure he’s taken

care of. The Reynolds will make certain of it, too. It’s great he can stay with them until
some things are resolved with his parents.”

He glanced at her. “You didn’t seem to like her.”
“Who?”
“Miriam Peacock.”
Leigh pursed her lips and released his shoulder. “How did you know? Was I that

obvious?”

“Only to me.”
“You can read me that well?”
Craig’s smile returned. “Yeah.”
She put her hands on her hips. “She’s professional and seems nice enough. The way

she looked at you was interesting.”

“Yeah.” His smile wide.
She punched him on the arm playfully.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“The woman ogled your ass.”
“I thought you said she was professional.”
“She was. But I can tell when a woman likes a man. And she really liked you.”
Craig faced her full on, the single lamp throwing his masculine features into stark

relief. His sense of humor vanished as he crowded her. Scant inches separated them.

“You jealous?” His question came out deep, liquid with sensual heat. “Why?”
“No—I…” Ah, hell. “Yes, damn it.”
“Why?”
“Because you—because I—”

Frustration strangled her. God, she couldn’t believe how tongue-tied this man made

her.

He reached up and caressed her jaw line, and swift sexual excitement swirled like a

blizzard in every corner of her body.

Challenged, she placed one hand in between his pecs. “You’re infuriating.”
“Miriam Peacock is pretty, but I’m not interested in her.”
Relief flooded her veins. She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them. “I’m

sorry. Look, the important thing is she helped Dane.”

He slipped his hand into the hair at the back of her neck. “You’re right.”
She gently clutched his sweater, bunching it in one fist. “But I think there’s more.

You want to help him because of what happened to you when you were a kid.”

Their faces were close now, their voices lowered yet laced with conviction. “Dane’s

not me.”

“No. I think you want to help him, though. You’re making a positive difference in

his life. He trusts you when he trusts no one else.”

Craig’s eyes warmed, telling her she hit a chord somewhere. She didn’t know which

chord, but the sensation burned true.

He moved even closer. Closer. God, she loved him near her. He leaned in those last

inches and kissed her. His mouth molded, sealed to hers. Passion swirled like a tornado
inside her. His tongue plunged, took, the sexual cadence that lured her into surrender. She
fell into his need, as hungry for connection as he was. He released her long enough to
strip his t-shirt over his head. Dressed the man spelled pure masculine power. Half-naked
he reminded her of a Viking warrior. Jeans hung low on his hips, tight abs drew her
attention. She touched those ridged stomach muscles and he sucked in a breath. Her
palms traced upward to test the strength of his chest and arms. Tantalized, she glided
around until she stood behind him and could see that vicious tattoo.

“I never thought a tattoo would turn me on.”
She touched the dragon. It seemed faded a bit, as if the years had worn away at the

startling color. At the brush of her fingers, he shivered.

“It’s so…powerful. So sexy,” she said.
He turned and drew her into his arms. A gleam dawned in his eyes. She drew in an

excited breath as he walked her backwards until they bumped into a wall. He gathered her
hands in his and drew them up until he held them gently against the wall on either side of
her head.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked softly.
His deep voice sent sinful thrills to her center. She quivered as anticipation pulled

her under.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked again as he feathered his lips over her

neck.

Aroused, she shivered and arched into his body as he pinned her to the wall.
He wanted it raw, he was getting it raw. “Fuck you.”
A low growl, more a moan, ushered from his throat as he kissed her neck, nuzzled

her chin. A trail of fire ignited wherever he touched. “Is that a curse or a request? Do you
want me to fuck you?”

The hard-core, nasty statement added fuel to the conflagration within Leigh. “Yes.

God, yes.”

He released her hands, and with swift movements undid her jeans and dragged them

along with her panties until they pooled at her ankles. She toed off her flats and kicked
away her clothes. She wrestled out of her t-shirt and made short work of her bra.

His hot gaze skated over her nakedness. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She blushed at his admiration, the attention making slick heat gather between her

thighs. Craig shifted her against the wall again, and the press of his erection made her
squirm.

“How do you want me?” he asked.
She swallowed, her breath coming quickly. “Hard and fast.”
A slow, satisfied grin covered his mouth. He slid his hands around her ass and

cupped naked flesh. She moaned softly but he stopped the sound with his mouth. His
tongue took possession.

Oh, yes.
Every hot brush of his tongue over hers sent firecrackers bursting through her. Her

nakedness against his jean-clad body made her ache with arousal. She explored his
shoulders as her hips ground into his.

He found the soft, wet proof of her desire as his fingers brushed over her pussy and

stroked her clit. She hissed inward, an excited moan leaving her lips. Another stroke
brought a gasp and moan. He swiftly unfastened his jeans and shoved them down far
enough to free his cock.

Craig cupped her ass, lifted her up, and positioned his cock head between her legs

until it kissed her vaginal lips. As her legs came around his waist, her heartbeat fluttered
in her chest like a hummingbird’s.

Yes. Yes.
“Tell me what you want.” A rough quality thickened his voice. “Tell me if you want

me.”

“I want you.” She clutched at his shoulders, then circled his neck with her arms. “I

want—”

His erection forged a hot, hard path through her folds and deep into her center. As

his length spread her open, her excitement turned to pants of pleasure.

“Oh, yes.” Her breathy moan of satisfaction slipped out.
She’d never had sex against a wall before. The strength it took for him to hold her

there sent a wild thrill through her.

As he kissed her, he started a methodical rhythm, his cock caressing her inner walls.

Pleasure sideswiped Leigh. The feeling stunned her as much as it maddened her. Her hips
followed his in a slow cadence back and forth. Each contained thrust promised to ignite
wild orgasm in her loins.

Panting against her neck, he kept his movements excruciatingly slow until she

thought she’d go crazy.

A moan punctuated his next thrust and then the next. She loved to hear him lose

control. His grip on her ass tightened. Raw passion ripped at her as she panted,
excitement driving her to a precarious edge.

“Please,” she whispered.
He groaned again and stirred his hips, grinding his cock to her womb. She gasped as

bliss started to spiral through her at light speed. Ecstasy bolted through her as she
trembled in pure pleasure, her cry breathless. He cut her off with a kiss.

He thrust again, again, his hips picking up the pace. Each harsh breath that came

from his chest, each frantic moan leaving his mouth was a testament to his gnawing need.
Heat gathered in her pussy as another climax surged upward. She whimpered, her body
clenching his as she surrendered and broke apart around him.

Craig slammed deep. Once. Twice. Three times. A guttural cry left his throat as he

shook and trembled. She felt hot release flood inside her as he spurted deep. She gloried
in satisfaction, in a primal female enjoyment that she’d done this to him.

Another emotion hit immediately.
Fear.
He’d made love to her without a condom, and she’d let him. She’d let him.
“Let me go.” Her voice came forceful. Direct and angry.
He slipped from her body and lowered Leigh to her feet. Her breath still puffed

quickly, her heartbeat still frantic, her body trembling with aftershocks.

He gathered her close, eyes concerned, his chest rising and falling from the aftermath

of exertion. His eyes narrowed in concern.

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
She pulled away and redressed. “We were stupid as hell.”
As he refastened his jeans, puzzlement crossed his face. Shirtless, with his body

gleaming god-like in stature, he looked better than any man had a right to. “What’s
wrong?”

“How could you ask that?” Leigh fastened her pants and reached for her bra. “We

made love without a condom, Craig. That’s stupid.” She half growled her next words. “I
swore I’d never make that mistake again.”

Craig reached for his polo shirt lying on the floor. His eyes looked grim and

concerned. He drew the shirt over his head. “You’re right.” He walked toward her. “It
was stupid.” He laced his fingers into her hair. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve
never had unprotected sex in my life until now. Never.” He pressed another kiss to her
forehead, then her lips. His tastes felt so exquisitely tender she wanted to cry. “You made
me so crazy. Whenever I get near you all I want to do is make love to you.”

Oh. Wow.
A man had never spoken so sweetly or honestly to her. Yet her fear remained. “I

made a big mistake. This was…” Tears rose to her eyes. She was swamped by déjà vu.
“Wrong.”

He drew back but kept his arms around her. “Look, you’re right. What we did—

forgetting birth control—was thoughtless of both of us. But I take responsibility for my
actions. If you…” He swallowed hard. “If you get pregnant—”

“No. I’m not getting pregnant again. It isn’t happening this way again.”
The vehemence in her voice brought a stunned look to his eyes. Craig released her.

“Okay. Let’s talk about this. We haven’t come this far for you to run away from me.”

Leigh struggled with her apprehension. His face held caution, but she also saw

sincere desire to understand in his eyes.

Oh, Leigh. Don’t be an idiot. Sit down and explain to him.
Craig’s cell phone rang. “Shit. I’ve got to take it. Could be a call-out.”
He answered, and from the conversation she knew he was right. A call-out.
He hung up and reached for his t-shirt. As he dragged it over his head, he said, “I

Chapter Thirteen

The call out for Craig took five long, grueling hours. It ended peacefully, though,

with the barricaded suspect surrendering without a shot fired. Most situations in El Torro
County ended that way, and he was very grateful.

As he drove to the office to do a report, he allowed himself to think about what had

happened between him and Leigh before the call-out.

Yeah, having sex without protection was dumb. He kicked himself for being an idiot.

At the same time the thrill he’d experienced, the connection he’d felt to her in that
moment of intimacy—shit, it blew his mind. It had been the hottest, most raw sex he’d
ever experienced.

His cell phone rang as it sat in the hands free unit on the dashboard of his SUV. The

display showed Miriam Peacock’s name.

“Dane’s father is out of ICU,” Miriam said after an initial hello. “They’ve got him in

serious but stable condition. He’s regained consciousness. The Reynolds have taken Dane
over to the hospital to see his father.”

At least something had improved in Dane’s world. “Good deal. What about his

mother?”

“The doctor’s say she should be in the psych ward. Her behavior is erratic enough

they believe she should have some testing before she’s charged with assault or attempted
murder.”

“Keep me posted.”
After they finished the call, Craig tried not to worry. Other than keeping tabs on the

boy and his situation, he couldn’t do much else.

His mind returned to Leigh, he recognized an element within himself he hadn’t seen

before last night. Somewhere deep within, he wanted to put his stamp of possession on
her.

Yeah, right, sport. Of all the chauvinistic shit… She’d twist his balls off and feed

them to him if she knew he was thinking this way. Wouldn’t she?

Like it or not, he found the idea of Leigh pregnant with his child a massive turn on.
Of all the dumb-ass, crazy bullshit.
He smiled, but it was filled with self-derision. Last night he couldn’t wait to make

her his in the most primitive way possible.

You’re a friggin’ horn dog.
No. He wasn’t. He’d avoided promiscuity in his lifestyle. If Leigh didn’t become

pregnant, and once Mick and Celeste’s wedding passed, maybe Craig would find this
grinding need for Leigh less potent.

Craig made it to the office and finished his report. Mick came the desk a few seconds

later.

“You all right?” Mick stood next to the desk, a sheaf of papers in his hands. “My

wedding giving you a headache?”

“How did you know?”
“Weddings are a pain in the ass, that’s how I know.”
Craig managed a smile as he leaned back in the chair. “Your wedding is anyway.”

Mick sat on the spare inch of desk not covered in junk. He smirked. “Yeah. Right.

Less than three weeks until my wedding. Leigh and Celeste have most of it handled. So
do I. You are, as Olivia would say, bloody worthless. But I know why.”

Mick’s irreverent grin assured Craig that he was teasing. “You’re going to tell me,

aren’t you?”

“Yes. You’re in love.”
His brother rarely talked mushy. Craig’s mouth dropped open, but he snapped it shut

immediately. No one took him off guard. “Bullshit.”

Mick’s grin remained. “Okay. Then the most serious case of lust I’ve seen in a long

time.”

Uncomfortable, Craig leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what the hell you’re

talking about.”

Mick stood. “Look, bro, we all saw how you reacted when you thought Leigh had

been murdered. I know how I felt when that asshole took Celeste hostage. When I
thought he’d shot her, I wanted to run in there guns blazing and kill him. Do yourself a
favor. If you love Leigh, just admit it and save yourself all the damned angst.”

Dumbfounded at his brother’s straightforward statement, Craig stayed quiet. He

couldn’t admit a damn thing, even if it was true. Which is wasn’t.

Anger, though, he could express. “Yeah, I care about her. A lot. But it’s only

friendship.”

Friends with mega benefits.
Mick shrugged. “Fine. Then get the attitude out of your system so you can work with

Leigh.”

Tired and confused by the force of his emotions, Craig stood. “For once, Mick, mind

your own damned business.”

Craig stalked away.

* * * *

When Craig’s home phone rang that afternoon, he’d fallen asleep on the couch. He’d

tried calling Leigh a few times earlier but she hadn’t answered. He’d left a voicemail.

He jackknifed into sitting position and snatched the phone off the coffee table.
“Craig?” Leigh’s self-assured, soft voice came over the line.
He sat up even straighter. “Hey.”
“Sorry I didn’t answer earlier. I had a headache and I took a nap. I had the phone on

silent.”

“No problem. Are you all right now?”
“Much better, thanks. How was the call-out?”
He filled her in on what had happened.
Eventually she asked, “Anything new on Dane?”
Craig explained the latest.
She sighed. “It’s all so damned complicated, isn’t it?”
“Trouble always is.”
“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?”
How the hell did she read him time and again?
“Yeah. He’s in a vulnerable state right now. I want him to trust me, but he’s

skittish.”

“He’ll be all right. He’s strong like you, and look how you turned out.”
Craig snorted. She sounded a hell of a lot more confident than he felt. “Listen, we

need to talk about what happened between us.” He had to get this out.

“Don’t worry, Craig.”
He stood and paced. “I’m not. But you didn’t let me explain how I felt about it.”
“You said it was unwise…what we did.”
“It was. Irresponsible as hell. We’re not horny teenagers. But like I said, no matter

what happens, I take responsibility. If you get pregnant, I’ll support whatever you want to
do.”

“Whatever?”
“Yeah. It’s your body. Your choice.”
Leigh stayed silent for a long while. “You’re a good man, Craig MacGilvary.”
Somehow he hadn’t expected her to say that.
He knew also knew he should ask about what she’d said the night before when she’d

mentioned being pregnant before. “Leigh, you said you’ve been pregnant before. What
happened?”

She sighed again, and this time it was filled with the pain of memories. “It’s a really

long story, Craig.”

Frustration threatened to arise, but he kept his patience. “I want to understand.”
“Give me a little time to ease into this. It’s a sensitive subject and painful.”
“I’m sorry about that. Don’t trust me with the information?”
“Of course I do.”
He flipped on the ceiling fan and opened the sliding glass door.
“Leigh?”
“Yes?” God, her soft voice, sweet and sinful, seduced his body and mind. He ached

for her.

“Tell me what’s in your past that’s eating a hole in you. You told me all about what

your parents did and how they got their money. But there’s more going on that you
haven’t told me. If we’re going forward with this relationship, I want to know what
happened to you. It’s gnawing at me not to know if some bastard got you pregnant and
ran off, or God forbid if something worse happened.”

“Worse?”
Horrible scenarios ran around in his head. “Were you raped?”
“Oh, no. No.” She sounded shocked. “That’s not it at all.”
He flopped down on the couch. “Thank God. It’s been bugging the hell out of me to

think that some asshole could have hurt you like that.”

“Thank you for caring so much. I’m really sorry I ended our lovemaking like that. It

was silly.”

“You weren’t silly. We all react to baggage sometimes.”
She laughed softly. “You really do understand me, MacGilvary.” He heard her

walking around her place, drawers opening and closing. “Yes, I was pregnant, but I had a
miscarriage.”

Craig’s throat seemed to close up, his empathy coming on line in a way he never

remembered feeling before. “Did you want the baby?”

“Yes.”
He closed his eyes. “God, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“I’ll tell you the whole thing soon. Can you give me just a little more time to think?”
Impatience made him want an answer now, but he restrained the impulse to demand.

“Sure. You gave me time to be more open with my feelings. I’m still working on that, so
I can cut you some slack.”

“Thank you.” Relief filled her voice. “I’m relieved. I thought maybe you’d tell me to

take a jump in a lake if I didn’t explain right now.”

He winced. “Am I that bad?”
“Sometimes you’re a scary guy.” Amusement touched her voice. “But in your line of

work I guess you need to be.”

He grunted. “Not to you. The last thing on earth I want to do is scare you, Leigh.

You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Of course.” Softness touched her voice. “You make me feel safe.”
Ah, jeez. He liked the sound of it way too much. “Good.”
“Okay big scary guy, I need to go. I have things to do.”
“Wait,” he said. “I’m meeting Dane at the Boy’s Club tomorrow night to play

basketball. Want to meet us there?”

“Sure. What time?”
“Seven.”
“Okay. I can make it.”
“Great. I look forward to it.”
“Me, too.”
After she hung up, he stared at the phone. A brown and white bird on the branch

outside caught his attention. Mind whirling, he tried not to allow his imagination to work
overtime. Whatever happened to her must have been rough. If she needed some time to
trust him with the information, to feel safe telling him the whole story, he would have to
take it and like it.

Then, if some bastard had hurt her, he’d have to draw on all of his sense of law and

order not to hunt the fucker down and pound him into dust.

* * * *

Craig walked into the Boy’s Club on Wilmont Street the following evening, the

ambiance of the worn, old building making him wish he had the money to fix it up. The
old stone structure once belonged to group of buildings in a military annex. Now it
featured a front office where kids signed in and could check out athletic equipment for
temporary use. Dane saw on the sign-up sheet that Dane had arrived thirty minutes ago.
Craig entered the noisy basketball court, the sound of athletic shoes squeaking on the
flooring echoing through the cavernous gym. Two older teen boys played basketball
already, but Dane sat on the sidelines. Dane wore an oversized white t-shirt with the
name of a goth band on the front—Metal Death.

Great. Metal Death.
Dane also wore blue, baggy athletic shorts and black athletic shoes. No problem. At

least the kid dressed for action.

“Hey Dane. How’s it goin’?”
Dane smiled, and Craig felt hope expand in his chest. “Okay.”
Craig sank onto the bench with Dane. “Good. Did you see your father today?”
Dane’s smile faded. “Yeah. He’s better. Out of intensive care, or they wouldn’t have

let me see him. He…smiled at me, but the rest of the time he didn’t want to talk. They got
him on drugs or something.”

“Miss Peacock said your dad will be in the hospital for at least another two weeks.

Then he’ll probably move to a rehab facility. It all depends on how he does.”

Dane nodded. “Yeah.” He looked into the distance. “They said I could talk to my

mom. She’s in jail.”

“I know. Did you talk to her?”
“Didn’t want to.”
Dane couldn’t blame the kid, and decided changing the subject might be a good idea.

“You still like staying with the Reynolds?”

“Yeah. It’s fun. They treat me like…” The boy shrugged. “Like I’m somebody, you

know?”

Yeah, kid, I know. “The man and woman who adopted me, Arlene and Justice

MacGilvary were like that. Justice was killed in the line of duty quite a few years ago, but
Arlene is still with me.”

Dane’s eyes clouded. “That’s good.” He sighed, an unusually vulnerable sound

coming from such a tough kid. “You must’ve had a good life.”

“It’s all relative. It depends on what you define as good. My life before Arlene and

Justice adopted me wasn’t that wonderful. I suffered a lot of abuse, both mental and
physical. It sucked.”

“Man.”
“Yeah. Man.”
Dane’s expression, normally so dark and cynical lightened enough that he almost

smiled again. “Did your new parents make you do your homework and go to bed at ten?”

Craig leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs, hands clasped together. “Yep.

Only it was lights out at nine.”

Dane wrinkled his face up in pure teenage disgust. “Jeez. They were strict.”
“They weren’t that bad. Yeah, I had chores around the house, I did my homework, I

kept my room clean.”

“Did you do that before they adopted you?”
“No. Remember what I told you about my mother? She didn’t care about me, or least

she didn’t know how to show it. The drugs she was addicted to made her worse and
screwed with her mind. I thought she didn’t love me.”

“Did she?” Dane’s voice cracked, boy to man coming through.
“In her own way, yeah, I think she did.” Craig grimaced, the memory too fresh even

today. “I never heard her say it. Not once.”

“Never?”
“She died before she could say it, if she was ever going to.”
Craig looked up at Dane and caught a gleam of something…maybe sympathy in the

boy’s eyes. “Man, that’s bad. I mean, even my mother said she loved me. And Dad, too.
Though Dad says it more often.”

“That’s great, Dane. Men sometimes have a hard time telling others that they love

them.”

Speak for yourself, MacGilvary. He understood all too well. He couldn’t tell anyone

he cared about them, even Arlene or his brothers. Hope broke free in his chest as he
thought about Leigh. She’d done something to him, opened a lighter place inside him he

didn’t know existed. When she’d come to the door the other night, and he’d seen her
standing there unharmed—hell—he’d jerked her into his arms and thanked God she was
in one piece. All he could think about was kissing her, touching her, making sure she was
real. He’d never felt about a woman like that before, and while it still scared the shit out
of him, he was growing into it, thinking maybe he could learn to show feelings bit by bit.

He wanted to ask the boy more, probe his mind to ferret out his thoughts. Instead, he

clapped the kid on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s play ball.” Craig stood.

“Craig?”
He didn’t mind the boy using his first name. Whatever it took to ease into the kid’s

confidence, Craig would go the distance. “Yeah?”

Dane stood and grabbed a basketball out of a rack nearby. “How long is it gonna take

before Miss Peacock figures out what to do with me?”

Craig sighed. “Miss Peacock will make a recommendation to the court. You’re

supposed to have the hearing soon, and at that time you’ll find out what the court plans.”

Dane’s face was crestfallen, and Craig’s heart twisted with sympathy.
“I don’t want to live with Mom and Dad again.”
“You may not have to. If the Reynolds pass inspection, and they want to take you on,

you may stay with them for a long time.” Craig moved closer, his voice sincere, his own
emotions near the surface. “Listen, I know this is tough. And figuring things out won’t
happen overnight. Hang in there. You know you can call me anytime if you need to talk.”

Dane grinned. “We gonna play basketball or what?”
“Bring it on.” Craig held his hands out for the ball.
Dane pitched the ball his way, and the force impacted Craig as he caught it. Soon

Dane, the other boys, and Craig started playing two against two, Dane with one of the
other boys. The game went smoothly, and soon they had a crowd of twenty onlookers.

Dane played hard, challenging Craig with swift moves, the kid’s wiry body proving

natural athletic ability. Craig praised the kid, but he didn’t let him win. Craig knew he
was in better shape than Dane, and a kid this age didn’t always have coordination on his
side yet. He pushed Dane to the limit. Let the kid prove himself and raise his confidence.
Frustration grew on Dane’s face as Craig and his teammate made another point and
another.

At one point Craig glanced up and caught sight of a slim figure he recognized

standing nearby a tall, good-looking guy. The guy was Mike Hanneford, director of the
boy’s club. The pretty woman was Leigh. Seeing her broke Craig’s concentration.

Suddenly a force slammed into Craig’s right side. He grunted under the impact as he

fell to the floor on his left side. The unforgiving floor sent pain vibrating through his
body. Stunned, he laid there, eyes closed as his mind tried to absorb what the hell had just
happened.

Fuck me. That hurt.
Seconds later he heard a female voice he recognized call his name urgently. “Craig?”

Soft hands touched his shoulder, then his face. A very warm scent he recognized wafted
over him. “Craig, are you hurt?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him. I didn’t mean it!” Dane’s desperate tone came through.
Craig’s eyes popped open. “I’m okay. No harm done.” He sat up with a groan,

helped by Leigh’s support and someone else’s.

“You sure?” Mike’s face swam into view on Craig’s right side. “That was one hell of

a hit.”

Craig smiled as his senses cleared. “Yeah. Dane, you pack a mean body check.”
Dane stood off to the side, a horrified expression in his eyes, his face suffused with

sincere regret. “Man, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

With that, the kid turned and ran out of the ball court.
“Shit,” Craig said.
“You should stay put. Let Mike check you out.” Leigh’s eyes were anxious.
“I’m fine.” Craig dashed from the ball court to find the boy. He ran toward the locker

room, and found the kid sitting on a bench, head drooping, remorse clear.

Craig’s sore muscles throbbed, especially his right shoulder, but he ignored it. Craig

sat down next to him. “Hey, it’s okay. It was an accident. I got distracted.”

Dane’s expression didn’t clear. “I hate this shit.”
“Dane, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
Dane made a disgusted noise. “Bullshit.”
Craig straightened his spine. “Dane, watch your mouth. Why do you insist on taking

the blame?”

“My Mom tells me she drinks because of me.”
Craig understood more than he wanted to in that moment. “Dane, that’s crap. Your

mother drinks because of her own reasons. She’s got mental problems and it’s easier to
blame someone else than to face up to it.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’ve done shit like this before when I was mad. I just

blow up. I can’t seem to stop it.”

“That’s why you need to talk things out. You’ve had a lot of bad crap go down in

your life, Dane. It’ll take some time to work it all through. It sure as hell did for me. I
punched holes in the walls a couple of times after I went to live with Arlene and Justice. I
had anger issues and couldn’t control it at first.”

Dane didn’t appear convinced. He took a key from a pocket in his shorts and stood.

He opened a locker and stared in at the sparse contents. “I…blocked harder than I
should’ve.”

“Okay. So we both screwed up. You blocked too hard, and I stopped in the middle of

the floor because I wasn’t paying attention. It’s no big deal. Accidents happen.”

Dane’s expression wouldn’t thaw. He shook his head.
Craig almost gave into his own frustration, but he reined in the temptation. “At that

moment you wanted to hurt me.”

“Yeah.” The word was hoarse. Telling.
“Because things weren’t going well for you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that how your mother handles her problems? Or your father?”
Dane licked his lips. “Yeah. Both of them. I told mom that once.”
“That was brave…telling her what you thought.”
Dane looked confused. “Huh. It was scary as shit. She never likes it when I say what

I think. Tells me to keep my fuckin’ mouth shut. Says I’m only a kid and don’t know a
damn thing.”

Dane didn’t reprimand the kid for cursing this time—he had no doubt the boy’s

mother said things like that to him. Right now Craig felt like strangling the woman.

“She’s wrong, Dane. You do know a lot.”

“Yeah, well all I ever got for opening my mouth was…”
Craig’s hands curled into fists. “What did your mother do?”
“Backhanded me.”
“So any time you expressed an opinion she didn’t like, with her, she punished you.”
“Yeah.”
Shit. This kid needed some major outlets for frustration. For all the crap his parents

put him through on a daily basis.

“I don’t want to be like my parents,” Dane said. “It’s shit being a kid with parents

like them.”

Craig nodded. “You won’t be, Dane. You’re an individual. Sure, there are times

every person does things like their parents. But they have a choice to do it. And
sometimes even then we make mistakes. Don’t give up on yourself so easily.”

Emotions tangled in the boy’s eyes, and Craig felt certain Dane didn’t believe him.

Craig ached with a need to help the boy, to make him understand that all wasn’t lost.

“Look,” Craig said, “I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” Craig smiled. “It hurt like hell,

but it was an accident. It could happen to anyone. You’re a good person, Dane.”

Though Dane didn’t look convinced, and he said he wanted to head home, Craig

thought he’d made headway with the boy.

“Why don’t you shower and get dressed?” Craig asked. “I’ll take you home, and

we’ll talk some more.”

Craig left the locker room in search of Leigh. She stood by the front door with Mike.

Mike slipped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed, and she beamed up at the tall
man with an expression of pure admiration. Or at least that’s what Craig saw. Heat
crawled up his spine.

Ah, crap. Craig wasn’t in the mood for a spurt of jealousy, but it hit him hard. He

marched toward them, not giving a damn. His mood deteriorated, but he swallowed the
indignant response threatening to burst out in an inappropriate way. Leigh saw him
coming, and her eyes reflected concern.

She stepped out from under Mike’s embrace. “Are you all right?”
Her concern wiped away the pettiness that had risen inside him. “Yeah, I’m fine.

Dane’s in the locker room getting showered and changed. I told him I’d take him home.”

Leigh’s lips relaxed into a smile. She shifted the handbag she carried and switched to

the other shoulder. “I was worried. That was a bad shot you took.”

Mike sauntered their way. Craig wanted the guy to take a hike. “You okay, Craig?”
“I’m great. Dane needs to go home. He’s had enough for one day.”
Mike nodded and headed away. “See you later, then. Have a good day.”
After Leigh said goodbye to Mike, she turned back to Craig. The warmth in her

smile as she stood near him sent his libido on the fast track. His body ached from the
smackdown, but he’d shrug it off fast. He ignored physical needs for practicality.

“I’d better get Dane home.”
“He’ll be okay, Craig. He just needs time to process things. He’s had an awful lot of

things happen in a short time.”

Craig nodded. “I know. Thanks for coming down.”
Leigh’s cheeks heated, and it made him even more curious. “No biggie.”
Craig didn’t know whether to grin at the sheepish expression on her face, or not.

“Mike interested in you?” came out instead.

Leigh’s eyes widened. “What?”
“He had his arm around you.”
Leigh scoffed and laughed. “He’s like a brother. I met him when his sister was

married last year. I was her wedding planner.”

He grunted. “Uh-huh.”
Leigh’s eyes sparkled. “It’s true.”
“I believe you. I also saw the way he looked at you.”
She shifted her handbag on her shoulder, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “Is that a

crime?”

“No, he likes you. As in sexually attracted.”
Her mouth popped open, and she looked bewildered. He didn’t think she could be

that blind to man’s admiration, but what the hell did he know?

“No, he doesn’t,” she said, moving closer.
Craig soaked up her nearness. He lowered his voice to an intimate level and leaned

toward her. “I’ve seen men look at women that way before.”

Leigh’s gaze locked with his. “Is that Craig MacGilvary all jealous? I’m flattered.”
A muscle in Craig’s jaw tightened until it ached. A hot, primal connection leapt

between them until he wanted to take her home and imprint himself upon her until she
wouldn’t look at another man. Christ, MacGilvary, don’t be such a fuckin’ caveman.

“Yeah. I’m jealous.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “But you can date whoever

you want obviously.”

Defiance flickered in her eyes, as if he’d hit a nerve. “Gee, MacGilvary. Thanks for

telling me. I didn’t know that.”

“Smart ass. I’ll see you later, okay?” With that he turned and headed for the locker

room, his body humming from arousal and aching from the shot Dane had delivered on
the basketball court.

But when he stepped into the locker room, Dane had disappeared.

Chapter Fourteen

Mike popped out of the office as Leigh turned to leave the Boy’s Club. “Hey, you

leaving already?”

She smiled, but knew the effect was pure plastic. “Yes. I’ll see you.”
“Wait.” He glanced around. “I have two tickets to the symphony Saturday night.

Would you like to go?”

“I—”
Craig came striding out of the locker room. “You guys see Dane anywhere?”
“No,” Mike said. “Let’s check out the rest of the building.”
The three searched inside and outside. No sight of Dane.
After scouring the immediate area with no sign of him, Leigh volunteered to help

Craig scan the neighborhood for the boy.

“He’ll be okay, Craig,” Leigh said as she rode in Craig’s SUV as they searched the

streets for Dane. “He’s probably just mad at himself and needed somewhere to sulk. You
know how teens can be.”

Craig’s hands tightened on the steering wheel—she saw his knuckles go white.

“Yeah, I do remember. That’s the problem.”

“It must be hard sometimes.”
“Dane’s life?”
“Yes, his life is hard, but that’s not what I mean.” She folded her hands in her lap.

“Your memories. You went through so much when you were his age.”

“Yeah, well, I’m over that.”
“Are you?”
He glanced her way quickly, and that one spearing look warned her. “I have the

memories, but most of the pain is gone. I’m not a victim, Leigh. I got on with my life.
Arlene and Justice made sure of that. Both of them had somewhat rough experiences
when they were kids. Yet look what kind of people they turned out to be. They didn’t
wallow. They dealt with their emotions and learned to live for today. That’s all we have,
Leigh. Today and now. The past is done.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “I know.”
One more quick, piercing glance. Suddenly she felt like a criminal caught in Craig’s

snare.

“Do you?” he asked. “Or are you still trying to hide your past?”
She almost squirmed. “I’m not ready to reveal everything in my past.”
He heaved a quick sigh. “As much as I care about you, I can’t be involved with a

woman who has something to hide from me.”

Tears burned her eyes in an onrush of humiliation and shame. She knew she had to

tell him someday. And she would. Just not now. “Let’s just concentrate on finding Dane,
okay?”

He nodded but didn’t speak. She’d almost despaired of finding the boy, when they

saw him down the road along Main Street.

She rolled down her window and shouted. “Dane!”
He glanced up, then came to a stop. Craig turned on his safety blinkers as he yelled

out the passenger side window. “Hey, Dane. Get in. We’ll take you home.”

Relief settled inside Leigh as Dane climbed into the back of the SUV and sat behind

her. At least the boy was safe.

As Craig took off, he said, “Buckle your seatbelt.” His voice had that cop sound to it

right now, a cooler, less understanding projection. “Hey, buddy, why didn’t you wait for
me?”

“I needed to walk. To think.”
“That’s okay, but next time let me know first. We were worried as hell about you.”
Dane sniffed. “Okay. I ain’t used to people worrying.”
“Look,” Craig said, “I care about you. Leigh cares about you. The Reynolds care.”
Dane went silent, and so did the car. They didn’t speak until they reached the

Reynolds’ house. After Dane went inside, Craig turned the car around and headed back to
the Boy’s Club so she could pick up her car.

“Do you think Dane is still at risk?” she asked. “He seems so on the edge.”
“He is.” Craig’s voice sounded certain and grim.
“At least he has you.”
Craig snorted. “For what that’s worth.”
He was in a mood, clearly, and one she didn’t think she could alter. Better to let him

stew in it. “It’s worth a lot. You’re a good man. He needs someone like you in his life.”

“Thanks.” His glance at her was softer, edged with a smidgen of gratitude.
“You’re still worried.”
“Yep.”
She left it at that, well aware she couldn’t do anything to change either Dane’s

situation, or Craig’s concern.

They arrived back at the club, and when he parked next to her car, he reached for her

hand and pressed a kiss to the back. “Thanks for helping me look for Dane.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later. I have to go back into the club.”
“Oh?”
“Unfinished business.”
He released her hand, and his eyes hardened. “Mike?”
Discomfort grew inside her. “Yes.”
He looked out the windshield. “See you later.”
He waited until she entered the building, then she saw him pull out of the parking lot.

* * * *

Craig called Leigh from home the next morning and caught her stepping out of the

shower.

“Think it’s early enough, MacGilvary?” she asked, voice teasing.
“Hell, no. You know me. I almost always get up early.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
His voice, husky with memories, brought visions to mind of well-developed arms

holding her close, the sensation of his hair-roughened chest pressing against her breasts,
the way his powerful thighs parted her legs for the press of his cock.

Jesus, just stop it. If she didn’t stop obsessing over his body, she’d forget how much

she loved his wit, his kick-ass attitude, his—zest—if she could call it that. The way his
body moved over hers as her hips surged upward, desperate for each silken thrust as his

cock found a home deep within her. She could almost feel how her pussy held onto him,
caressed his cock until he surrendered and exploded deep inside her.

“Can you come over tomorrow night?” Craig asked.
She didn’t answer immediately, her mind overwhelmed with heated images. “Yes.”
“My Mom is coming over, Dace and Mary, and Mick and Celeste. I want Dane to

have some distraction. The Reynolds do a great job with him, but he needs to take his
mind off what’s going on. I want him to see what a more normal family life can be like.”

“That’s wonderful, Craig.” Her voice went softer, and her body ached at the same

time as her heart. He got to her on a fundamental level she couldn’t ignore. “What time?”

“Six.”
“I’ll be there.”
They signed off without discussing anything else, which suited her fine. Any more

fantasizing and her head would explode.

Celeste called her the next morning as Leigh ran errands around town. She’d just

loaded her purchases into the trunk and settled into the car when her cell rang.

“Hey Celeste.”
“Hey. Are you coming to Craig’s cook out tonight?”
Leigh moaned as she unlocked her car and slipped inside. “I’m feeling under the

weather.”

Celeste sighed, but her voice was amused. “You big faker. You’re not sick. Are

you?”

“Actually, I’ve had a headache all day. I think I’m getting a cold.”
“Are you worried about going to his house?”
“I’m not worried.”
“Right.”
“It’s true.”
“Did you and Craig have a fight?”
“No, we’re fine. We’re taking things slow.”
“Things?” Celeste’s voice held insinuation. “What things? The other day you

wouldn’t even admit you were attracted to him.”

Leigh rolled her gaze to the heavens. “All right, all right. I admit it, okay? I’m big

time, deep in it, attracted to his sexy ass. There, does that make you feel better?”

“Yes, actually. It does.”
“Just don’t say anything to anyone else.”
“Give me a break, girl. Everyone knows you and Craig have the hots for each other.

So trying to cover it up is futile. Now tell me all about it. You guys have done it, haven’t
you?”

Leigh, unfortunately, thought she knew what her friend meant. She blushed to the

roots. “Done it?”

“The two-backed beast. Had sex.”
She never could tell a lie to Celeste. She gritted her teeth before she admitted all.

“Yes, we did.”

Celeste made a whoop. “I knew it.”
Leigh didn’t tell Celeste about the little trauma she’d experienced when she’d

realized she and Craig had made love without protection. She also didn’t tell her friend
that she’d taken a pregnancy test this morning—with negative results. She did need to tell

Craig, though.

Leigh groaned. “Where are you? I hope Mick isn’t there.”
“No, he’s not here. I’m at home being Miss Domestic.”
“Oh, boy.”
“So, you and Craig finally did the deed. Thank God. I thought we were going to have

to put up with your guys spewing sexual vibes all over the place.”

Leigh snorted a laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up. We’ve got issues.”
“Hmm. Well, everyone has issues. You’ll work them through.”
Leigh wished she could feel as confident.
“I just knew right from the start there was something going on between you two,”

Celeste said with a smug tone.

“Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“You two have such fire. The tension between you is hot and heavy.”
Leigh groaned, then sneezed. “Well, tonight I don’t think we will.”
“Poor baby. You’d better get home and have some chicken soup.”
“In this hot weather, I don’t think so. A cool shower maybe.”
“Sounds good. Look, before I let you go, think about this one thing.”
Leigh stared out at the bright sunshine, the mountains springing up green and lush

with the promise of more summer to come. She wanted some of that hope, too. “Okay,
shoot.”

“Craig is a really, really great guy. I know he can be standoffish and cool sometimes,

but under that he’s a teddy bear.”

Leigh covered her eyes with one hand. “You’ve told me this already.”
“I know, I know. But I also know you wouldn’t have gone to bed with him if you

didn’t like his personality, too.”

Leigh had to tease. “Maybe his hot body just turns me on. Maybe the mystique of

some big, alpha cop gets me wet.”

Celeste hooted with laughter. “Does it now? Listen, you and Craig both have things

in your past that could threaten your future. But only if you let them. The past is over.
Done. You can’t go back and change anything. You can live now. Think about that.”

Leigh stuck the key in the ignition. “Damn, I hate it when you’re right. You’re so

freakin’ smart.”

“And so are you. Use that brilliant mind of yours to find a way. Forget what Chad

did. Forget it all and embrace your future.” Celeste’s voice turned self-deprecating.
“Okay, I get it. None of my business. If I don’t see you tonight, take care all right?”

When Leigh got home the headache hadn’t improved, and tiredness overwhelmed

her. She glanced at her watch. Plenty of time to take a take a bath and a very short nap
before calling Craig to let him know she couldn’t make it. She turned the sound off on
her cell phone. The last thing she wanted was for it to go off while took a nap.

She took a long, hot bath, slipped into a two-piece shorts and t-shirt pajama set and a

big blue Egyptian cotton robe. She lay down on the sofa and dozed. The doorbell jerked
her from a sound sleep.

“Damn.” She moaned softly as she tried to clear her foggy brain. The doorbell rang

again. “Coming, coming! Keep your pantyhose on.”

Grumbling, she looked through the peephole. Craig. She looked again. Craig! What

the hell was he doing here? He wore a blue t-shirt and jeans, hands on hips and appearing

ready for bear. She glanced at the clock. Crap. She’d slept three hours.

She unlocked the door and opened it. “I thought you were having a dinner.”
His eyes narrowed, curiosity and concern burning in those expressive eyes. “It got

canceled. Dane is thinking of signing up for a youth summer football league and needed
to go to the meeting tonight. I was talking to Celeste and Mick and Celeste said you
weren’t feeling well. I tried calling your cell phone and when I didn’t get an answer, I
came over.”

She backed up and gestured. “Come in. I’m really sorry. I was going to call and tell

you I wasn’t coming, then I overslept. I have the cell phone volume turned off again.”

He shrugged. “I could have tried your home phone.”
Feeling self-conscious in the bathrobe, her hair a tangled mess, she closed the door

and faced him.

She didn’t have a chance to quiz him before Craig cupped the side her face and

peered down at her like a quizzical doctor. “You okay?”

“I think it’s just a cold. It’s no big deal.”
Once more those big, gentle fingers moved, sliding into the hair at the back of her

neck. The feeling of his hand caressing her made Leigh want to confess anything.

His gaze absorbed all, and the sensation of his big hand cupping the side of her face,

fingers caressing…well even in her achy state his touch felt so good. “You look like
hell.”

“Gee, thanks. A girl always likes to hear that.”
She expected his smile, but instead he peered into her eyes and placed a palm over

her forehead. “You’ve got a fever.” He gently took her upper arm and steered her toward
the couch. “Sit down.”

“Fever? I don’t feel that sick.”
“You have a thermometer?”
“Somewhere in my bathroom. Top drawer to the left of the sink.”
“Stay put. I’ll get it.”
As his glorious, tight backside walked away from her, she sighed. He did things to

her female responses she had never experienced before she met him.

Super. Mr. Macho, Protective—
Hot. Gorgeous.
Amusement made her giggle. She called out, “I guess you owe me one after I took

care of you and tried to kill you with chocolate.”

All she heard was a grunt.
He returned shortly with the thermometer and popped it into her mouth.
As they waited for the results, he sat by her on the couch. Finally he took it out of her

mouth.

He glanced at the thermometer. “Ninety-nine.”
She shrugged. “Almost normal.”
“Not normal.” He stood. “Get into bed.”
“I was sleeping until you woke me up, Craig. I can take care of myself.”
Before she could blink, he scooped her up in his arms and started down the hallway.
She sputtered. “What are you doing?”
“Putting you in bed. I have a feeling if I don’t carry you, you’ll fight me all the way.”
“I could still fight you.”

A grin slashed over those gorgeous lips. Her arms tightened around his shoulders as

his arms squeezed. “Not and win.”

“Wanna bet?”
He slanted a cocky look her way that made warm tingles spiral in her stomach. God,

he was potent. The sexual heat pouring of him was enough to give her a fever.

“Craig,” she said as he entered her bedroom and sat her on her bed. “Isn’t this

excessive? I mean, it was sweet of you to check up on me, but—”

“I was worried about you.” His eyes burned, a husky tenderness entering his voice.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She smiled as she shifted and stretched out on the bed. The warmth in his voice

gratified her. He’d proven that he took getting in touch with his softer side seriously. He
sat on the edge of the bed.

“Thanks, Craig. You’re a sweetheart.”
He grunted. “Stop saying that. I am not sweet.”
Determined, she sat up and brought herself closer to him. “Are too.”
“Are not. Make an appointment to see a doctor tomorrow.”
“I’m fine, worrywart.”
“You’ve got a fever. You’re not fine.”
“Fine, have it your way. I’m at death’s door.”
His face hardened. “Don’t even joke about that.” He stalked to the door. “Get under

the covers.”

His order was given so quietly and gently, she couldn’t take offense, but she teased

him anyway. “Bossy.”

“Rest. I’ll be in the living room watching a sports channel. I’ll check up on you in

awhile.”

“Craig—”
But he’d already left the room.

* * * *

When Leigh woke some time later, she was toasty and snug. She hadn’t felt this

cosseted in a long time, if ever. At first she wasn’t sure where she was, and when her
eyes opened, she had to think hard. Oh. I’m in my own bed. She opened her eyes and
found Craig lying on top of the covers next to her, fully clothed. Silly man and his honor.
He could have crawled in bed. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t slept together. She moved,
digging from under the covers until she shoved them down to her waist.

His eyes popped open, and he shifted up on his right forearm to look at her in the

dim light from the bedside lamp. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Great, actually. I don’t feel hot or achy. My headache is gone.”
He didn’t smile, but she thought she saw relief in those intense eyes. He sat up and

touched her forehead. “Your fever is gone, I think. Whatever was wrong, you’ve fought it
off.”

“Amazing what a good sleep can do.” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

“Four in the morning. Wow. You’ve been here the whole time?”

“I went home and got an overnight bag.”
“So why are you lying on top of the covers fully clothed?”
His smile held mischief. “I’m a man of honor. I don’t take advantage of damsels in

distress. And if I’d climbed in bed with you all the way, I would have been tempted to
make love to you.”

“Oh.” The word came out breathy. “My own knight in shining armor.”
“You know you can always count on me, right? Whatever it is, you can trust me. If

you ever need anything, just call me.”

Her heart warmed, feelings rolling around inside her with force and intensity. “I have

news. I should have told you the moment you walked in. I took a pregnancy test this
morning.” His face stiffened, as if he waited for a blow. She hastened to reassure him.
“I’m not pregnant.”

The relief on his face mingled with another emotion she couldn’t identify. Regret?

Could a small part of him have wanted her pregnant? The idea set off crazy feelings
inside her. Dangerous longings she couldn’t name. Hopeless wishes. She had no business
having a child without first settling things in the rest of her life. She didn’t want to do
things backwards. Boyfriend, marriage, then maybe a baby. Of course, life didn’t always
go according to meticulous plan. Especially when you didn’t have a plan.

“I also owe you an apology,” she said.
He frowned. He sat cross-legged next to her as she propped on the pillows behind

her. “For what?”

“When I left the other day after we had sex, I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have

just told you the rest. There’s a deeper reason for why I freaked after we made love
without protection.”

“Of course you freaked. It was a stupid thing for us to do.”
She lay back against the pillows, sinking into the cushioned surface with resignation.

“Back in California, I lived an entirely different lifestyle. Remember, my parents are
filthy rich. You name it, they’ve bought it. New cars, new houses—two new houses—
clothes, etc. A real Prada and Gucci lifestyle. All of that would be okay, but their
personalities did a three-sixty along with it. The money went to their heads.”

Craig frowned. “You said they were good people, even though they worked in the

porn industry.”

“Yes, and no. They thought they should run my social life. I think they were worried

that I couldn’t make good decisions about boyfriends. They decided they needed to pick a
husband for me.”

“What?” Incredulity filled his eyes. “You’re kidding?”
“No. Chad was a dick. A wealthy dick. Very smart, though, and handsome in this

outdoor adventure sort of way. He used to be a Navy SEAL or some whoo-whoo super
secret military guru. He’d left the Navy and gone into sea salvage. He made a lot of
money at it. He was clever and at first I thought he was my dream guy. He was
competent, strong, a take-charge kind of guy.”

Craig’s eyes had focused to laser-sharp—she’d obviously caught his full attention

with the story. “And?”

“He was also bossy and controlling. He tried telling me what to wear, how to wear it.

He undermined me at every turn, and I was so stupid. I let him do it. I overlooked all of
that because of his other qualities. It started to wear away at my self-confidence.”

Understanding spread over his face. “You thought I was like Chad. That’s why you

reacted to me so strongly.”

She nodded. “Physically you guys are somewhat alike. He has blond hair cut

military-short. He’s about the same height, though his build is not as good as yours.” She
sat up straighter against her pillows. “We made the same birth control mistake. Only that
time, I did get pregnant. When I told him about it he said it wasn’t his and left the area. I
was pissed. Not only had I made a monumental mistake, the guy I’d fallen for was an
asshole. A big asshole. My parents flipped out because I’d gotten pregnant.”

“Shit.” Craig winced.
“Yeah. A big steaming pile of it. It gets better. My sister Trina, who is two years

older than me…” She couldn’t complete the sentence at first. “…she’d always liked
him.”

Comprehension blazed in Craig’s eyes. “That mother—” He caught himself. He

drew in a deep breath. “He ran off with your sister.”

“Yep. They’re now happily married and living the good life with his salvage

company in France.”

Anger filled his eyes, then subsided. She saw regret and sympathy cross his

handsome face and knew he understood. “What happened to your baby?”

She couldn’t look at him, afraid she might cry if she did. “I was only a month

pregnant when Chad ran off with Trina. The day after, I had a miscarriage.”

“Ah, God.” He reached for her, drawing her into his arms in so warm and protective

an embrace that she sank into the sweetness. “I’m so sorry. It sure as hell explains a lot.”
He squeezed her, kissed her forehead. His arms slipped from around her. “But it also
worries me.”

Confused, she wished he’d kept his arms around her. “Why?”
“That’s why you were so damned wiggy with me when we first met. Why you kept

challenging me as if I was a piece of scum. Somehow you thought I was just like this
Chad jerk.”

Oh, oh. “Well, yes, but—”
“No buts. You prejudged me.” Craig’s face reflected less understanding and more

chagrin. “Did you think I was like that asshole when you first met me?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Yes.”
“You think all men are the same?”
“Of course not.”
He slipped off the bed, and when he stood, he crossed his arms. This was Craig the

alpha male, the cop.

Good going, Leigh. How will you explain this? “Like I said before, he was blond,

with military-short hair. He even had a receding hairline like yours.” She gulped. “He
was self-assured, cocky.” When stared and said nothing, she continued. “You reminded
me of everything that had deceived me. I was wrapped up in what I thought he
represented. A confident, handsome, go-getter guy who loved me.” Bitterness crept into
her voice. “He said it right to my face that he loved me, then when the chips were down
and I got pregnant, it turned out he’d been screwing my sister as a side dish.” She
laughed sarcastically. “Hell, maybe I was the side dish and she was the main course. Who
knows?”

“That had to hurt like hell,” he said, his eyes softer.
“I don’t blame you if you don’t understand. I had no right to treat you as if you were

the same type of man. And what pissed me off even more is that I was attracted to you
immediately from the moment we met. Violently.” Her tone softened as she

acknowledged the truth. “Still am.”

They went silent a moment.
Craig’s poker face eased. Regret lined his face and showed in his eyes as he sank

onto the edge of the bed. “Seems like both of us have baggage that made us leery and
suspicious. I can see how this Chad character would pop into your head when you saw
me. It’s understandable.”

Relieved that he seemed to understand, she continued her explanation. “Now that I

know the real you, I realize any similarities you have to Chad are superficial.”

“Thanks. You have a lot of trust issues with relationships in general or is it just me?”
She had to admit the truth. “I’ve had problems with relationships and whatever it is

we have together is more complicated than any I’ve had before.”

His eyes darkened with questions. “Do you trust me one hundred percent?”
She hesitated. “You are different from Chad and my initial assessment of you was

wrong.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Do you trust me one hundred percent?”
Leigh’s frustration boiled upward. She glared. “Why does it have to be all or

nothing? Black or white? I’m working on it.”

He leaned over and reached for his shoes, his trademark cool cop face in place. He

stood, and as he walked out of the room, he said, “I need time to think, okay?”

Angry tears blurred her vision. A short few moments later she heard him leave.
Damn him. Then she realized anger wasn’t the only thing bringing tears to her eyes,

but sadness. He’d seemed to understand, but then it somehow had come all undone. More
than anything, she realized that she felt loss.

Chapter Fifteen

Craig’s cell rang the next day, and he glanced at the small phone on the dash of his

squad car. His shift would end soon, and he could take his tired body home. Dark clouds
rose puffy and high, towering and promising nasty weather action soon. As he took note
of the skies, lightning flashed and thunder rolled almost at the same time.

Craig frowned and pushed the speaker button. “Hey Dane, what’s up?”
“Hey. I got some information. There’s these homies I know that…”
Homies? Not a word he expected Dane to use.
“Friends of yours?” Craig turned down Main Street on the way to the Sheriff’s

Department just off the highway.

“Yeah. They’re planning something big today.”
Fear thickened the boy’s voice and Craig went on red alert. “Today?”
“Today.” Dane whispered his words.
“Are you with these friends now?”
“No. I’m at the Reynolds’ house. I…I told the guys I don’t want to hang with them

and I left.”

Craig’s stomach tightened, apprehension building. “You’ve got to give me more than

that, buddy. Who are they and what do they have planned?”

“They’re…”
Craig suppressed the desire to drag the information out of the kid by driving as fast

as he could to the Reynolds house. “Who is it?”

“A gang.”
A sharp edge punctured Craig as bad memories squirmed to the surface like a

poisonous snake. “Which one?”

“The Dragons.”
Fuck me. Craig’s hands gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline. “You’re a member

of The Dragons?”

“Was,” the kid said. “I ain’t anymore.”
Craig cursed under his breath. “You’ll need protection. They don’t take kindly to

people who quit the gang.”

“How do you know?”
“Dane, remember I was a member of The Dragons. I know. If you quit them, there’s

hell to pay.”

“They’ll beat me until they break something.”
“That’s all they’ll do if you’re lucky.” Dane went silent long enough that Craig

spoke again. “What made you decide to quit the gang?”

“You. I figure if you could do it, so could I.”
Craig’s chest tightened and his throat went along for the ride. “I’m glad you’re

ditching those losers. You’re sure you don’t know what’s going down today?”

“Nah. They’re the older guys in the gang. They didn’t tell us younger guys what was

happening. Hey, man, um…there’s another reason why I told you.”

Craig turned into the squad car parking area at the Sheriff’s Department. “What’s

that?”

“My friend Hank just joined the gang. He’s only fourteen. He…uh…they told him he

could go along on this thing today as an initiation. He wouldn’t listen to me when I said it
was a bad mistake to join.”

Craig bit his tongue on the apprehension bubbling in his blood. It wouldn’t help a

damn thing to blow up. “I understand. Look, Dane, thank you for telling me this. For
admitting you were in the gang. Stay away from them from now on.”

“Yeah.”
“What’s Hank’s last name.”
“Frisco. Hank Frisco.” The line went dead.
“Dane?”
Less then ten minutes later, as Craig entered the sheriff’s department and briefed his

commander on what Dane had said about The Dragons, a call came through dispatch.

The Dragons had taken over The Hobby Shack on Wilmot.

* * * *

Suited up in their SWAT attire, Craig and his brothers, along with the rest of the

team, prepared for entry if negotiations broke down outside the mobile command post.
Bill Renfore, the team member who normally performed negotiations, was recovering
from a broken leg from a fall during a hiking trip. That left Craig, who acted as a
negotiator when Bill couldn’t.

Craig’s gut twisted. He hadn’t performed negotiations in a long time, and now that

he’d stepped up to the plate, nerves threatened to derail his cool.

“Time to cowboy up,” he said to Mick, Ian, Dace, and the other team members.
Trey and Kelso had already taken sniper positions nearby with recon in mind. The

store had huge windows in front, which made it easier to see what was happening. Craig
had tried making contact with the gang members using a megaphone but received no
response. Pitching a throw phone into the store became an option if they first made
contact with people inside.

“Six gang members are in full view of the big windows,” Trey said from his position.

“Big swarthy kid up front is packing an AK-47. Enough heat to do some damage.”

“Ballsy kids,” Mick said as Trey’s report came in.
Kelso reported in from his vantage point. “The blond kid has his arm around the

neck of a twenty-something woman.”

Craig moved into the command post vehicle. Time to try phone contact.
Incident commander Captain Jefferson Harris settled into the chair nearby. Balding,

about fifty, and with a commanding presence, the Captain had the entire team’s full
respect. “Here’s hoping these numb nuts don’t have enough balls to go any further than
they have.”

Craig arranged the headset over his head and shrugged, trying to ease the tension

from his shoulders. “If these were your usual idiot teenage boys out for a joyride, I’d say
the same. These are The Dragons. They were meaner than shit when I was a member, but
they’re a hell of a lot meaner now.”

Harris’s expression darkened. “You’re right. I was being a damned Pollyanna. How

old is that kid that Dane Kanter said is his friend?”

“The friend is only fourteen.”
Harris grunted in disgust. “Jesus.”

Ian Duffy, standing right outside the vehicle, adjusted the chin strap on his Kevlar

helmet. “The creeps are the worst gang in the area. Men grow up in the gang.” His gaze
traveled to Craig. “And if they don’t get out, they raise their children in the gang.”

Right then the sky opened up.
Friggin’ rain.
If there was one thing Craig hated during an operation, it was a thunderstorm, and

this one was a pisser. Torrents unloaded, assuring that the other team members were
soaked before they could run under the overhang on the small bank building next to the
command center.

“Trey and Mick said you were a member of this Dragon’s gang,” Harris said.
Craig nodded, irritated. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I know how these kids work.

This is probably an initiation.”

“Then you know what it takes, unless it’s changed after all these years.”
“Hasn’t changed much. Back then, though, we weren’t so much into weapons. It was

more intimidation, robbery. Nobody got killed. The gang was bad ass, but more into
beating, stabbing…” His voice trailed off when Harris looked sick to his stomach. “I
didn’t stab or beat anyone.”

“Then how did you get in the gang?”
“I got out, that’s all that counts and I was lucky to never have a criminal record.”

Craig switched gears. “Do we have any intel on these kids? Parents?”

“Mostly foster kids, but a few not.”
Craig nodded. “Yeah, it was the same when I was involved.” Thunder rattled the

command center as the rain continued to flood the area. He glanced out a window.
“Where’s the fuckin’ ark?”

Harris nodded. “Let’s rock.”
Craig got on with it, dialing in to the store with speakerphone engaged.
“Hello?” A younger woman’s tremulous voice came over the speaker.
“Ma’am, this is Sergeant Craig MacGilvary of the El Torro County Sheriff’s

Department. Is everyone in there all right?”

“Yes. So far. But—”
Her voice was cut off as a young man’s voice burst over the line. “This is Frisco. We

aren’t takin’ any bullshit off you pigs.”

Pigs? What was this, the sixties? For a second Craig was speechless. Fucking hell.

Dane’s friend was in charge of this little operation? At fourteen? Babies with fuckin’
guns. He saw red, but pulled back on the high-test anger. “Hank Frisco? I understand
you’re a friend of Dane Kanter’s.”

“What?” The boy sounded shell shocked. “Yeah.” Bravado returned to his voice.

“So?”

“Dane’s also a friend of mine.”
“You’re lying.”
“Dane’s worried about you. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
Silence.
“Frisco? You there?” Craig asked quietly. “Look, are you the man in charge? We

understand there was gunfire in the store earlier. We want to make certain everyone
inside is all right. If you’ll send everyone out, all the employees, we’ll take that in good
faith that you don’t wish to hurt anyone.”

Silence, except for rain battering the earth. A cool breeze stirred the air, bringing the

scent of moisture.

Craig continued. “We need to talk with you to make sure everyone is safe. If you

could acknowledge—”

Gunfire erupted from inside the store, shattering the front windows and spraying the

area.

A spate of cursing filled Craig’s headphone, including the report from Trey.

“Automatic weapon fire. Suggest we block off a bigger sector. If it’s an AK-47, those
bullets can travel damned far.”

“Ten four Trey.” The commander’s voice was no-nonsense as he called in an order

for the street cops to push back the public at least two blocks, and confirm all the
surrounding buildings in the area had been evacuated. Craig was damn surprised no one
had been hit by the last spate of gunfire.

“Trey, you have any line of sight yet?” Harris asked.
“Clear shot at any time,” Trey said.
“I have a clear shot,” Kelso’s voice came through loud and clear.
As Craig witnessed many times, they went through the same process they always

did. Contain and isolate the suspects and attempt to negotiate surrender. If no surrender,
demand surrender. If not, use chemical weapons to make suspects admit defeat. If that
didn’t work, utilize snipers. And last, order a SWAT assault.

Rain slid down the windows next to Craig’s face. The damned thunderstorm wasn’t

making things easier. All the firearms, ammo, breaching instruments, you name it,
couldn’t get the job done if the people behind them weren’t competent. Luckily for the
people of El Torro County and Gold Rush, this team knew its business.

Craig understood how these kids worked, but he didn’t know if he could get a boy

Frisco’s age to work with him.

To Craig’s surprise, the line remained open. “Frisco? You there, man?”
“Yeah.” The young boy sounded out of breath. “We mean business.”
“I can hear that. Is everyone all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Who was shooting?”
“Ghost. Stop askin’ me questions man. I’m asking the questions. These stupid

bitches will be dead if you don’t give in to our demands.”

Craig heard the false bravado talking, but he also detected true anger. This kid was

balanced on the edge of incredible violence, brought on by a hatred of the world. Craig
couldn’t afford to screw this up.

Christ. This kid was a friend of Dane’s? He had a freakin’ Clint Eastwood complex.

Thunder cracked overhead and faded to a rumble that vibrated the ground. And still the
rain came, heavy and relentless.

“We haven’t heard your demands yet. What’s the problem? What started all this?”
“This bitch in the store dissed one of us last week. She’s gonna pay. She dissed

Boozer big time. Stupid cunt.”

Craig winced at the kid’s word choice. “How is she going to pay?”
“With her life.”
Craig took a deep breath. Deciding to take the kid’s thoughts in a different direction,

Craig asked, “How many people are in the store, Frisco?”

“Lots of dead bodies if you don’t give us what we want.”
“How many of you want something, then?”
“Three of us and we all have pieces.”
“Okay, I need to know how many people are in the store.
“The fuckin’ idiots who work here and the stupid bitch, now stop asking me

questions.” The kid’s growl conveyed that Craig had pushed too far.

Craig put his hand over the phone and instructed one of the men to find out how

many people worked in the store.

“Okay. I’m here to listen, Frisco,” Craig said. “The Dragons feel a woman

disrespected one of the members. So you plan to hurt her.”

“Yeah.” The kid’s voice sounded uncertain. “We’re going to cut her or shoot her.

Depends.”

Craig’s stomach rebelled at the thought of teenagers doing this. But he knew better

than most what this gang could do. “Depends?”

“If she begs for her life maybe we’ll just cut her. Boozer told me to make the

decision.”

Craig hoped this would give him leverage. If the kid thought he had decision-making

power, he could decide not to hurt anyone.

“Frisco, if she apologizes, maybe you could release her. I’m sure she didn’t mean to

disrespect anyone. It was probably a misunderstanding. Let her go.”

“Shit, no. If I do that, Boozer will kill me.”
“Boozer. Is he the leader of The Dragons?”
Lightning streaked across the windows, a deafening crack of thunder rattling the

area. Static obscured the kid’s answer. Then Frisco said, “He’s the man.”

“He’s older than you.”
“Nineteen.”
Shit and double shit. Babies being led by a boy with raging testosterone and hatred.

“Did he tell you to come to the store?”

“Yeah.”
Urgency collided inside Craig, along with a sense of inevitability. He had to corral

this situation now before things went tits up. No, damn it. He wouldn’t let this kid go. He
wouldn’t let him hurt the woman.

“Frisco, tell us your demands.”
“The woman apologizes, she dies, and then we walk out of here. If we don’t walk,

we start shooting other hostages.”

Sgt. Levett came back into the command center with information on the number of

employees. “Ten employees in the store today. All women.”

Before Craig could reply, he heard a scream in the background, and his heart jerked.

“Frisco, what’s going on?”

“Hey!” Frisco turned away from the phone, but he could hear the boy yelling to his

friends. “Shut that bitch up!”

Gunfire spat. Female screams echoed over the line.
“Frisco. Hey Frisco talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nothin’. Had to shoot at the bitches to shut them up. They don’t know when to keep

quiet.”

“Are they all right?”

“Yeah. We just shot at ‘em.”
Craig managed to suck in a breath to calm his pulse. Desperation sent Craig into a

mode of negotiation style he wouldn’t have recommended, that senior negotiator Bill
Renfore wouldn’t advise unless nothing else would work. Craig heard a relentless edge in
Frisco’s voice.

“Frisco, if you hurt anyone, if you kill anyone in there, there are real consequences.

Why would you want that for yourself? Wouldn’t you rather go home safe tonight?”

“Huh. That’s fuckin’ shit. If we leave here and you arrest us, we ain’t going home

tonight. You’ll put us in jail. Boozer said so. Shit, you’d put us in jail even if we didn’t
kill nobody. It’s too far gone for that.”

“Frisco, Dane doesn’t want you hurt. He told me so himself. He knows what its like

to be in a gang. I know what it’s like. That’s why he called me. He understands that I’ve
been there. I’ve seen and felt the pain that drives a person to do horrible things. The
people in the store are innocent. Don’t hurt them just because you’re hurting.”

Silence on the other end. Had the kid hung up? No. He heard breathing.
“Frisco?”
“You were in a gang?”
“The Dragons. When I was about your age.”
“No way.”
“Way.” Craig kept his voice on the lighter side, hoping against hope he could reach

the kid. “My parents weren’t in the picture. My foster parents didn’t love me. Or at least I
thought they didn’t care. I thought the guys in The Dragons were my friends. They
weren’t.”

“The Dragons are my friends.” Frisco’s voice growled with sheer contempt. “Don’t

try to talk me out of this by pretending you’re my friend cop.”

Time to switch things up, MacGilvary.
“You kill anyone?” Frisco asked before Craig could speak.
“No. I couldn’t. That isn’t all. The Dragons did some pretty bad things back then.

But they never killed anyone. We drew the line at going that far.”

Frisco’s cruel laugh was genuine. “What a bunch of pussies.”
Damn it. Craig wanted to curse heaven. “Maybe we were, but killing people isn’t

right.”

“You kill people.”
Craig shifted into high gear. “Like I said, I’ve never killed anyone.”
“You’re a cop.”
“Cops don’t kill unless they have no other choice. Either to save themselves or the

life of someone else.”

“That’s a lie. My mother and my aunt told me cops like to kill Mexicans and

Blacks.”

God. “I don’t know what’s happened in your family, Frisco. But I have Hispanic

friends and African-American friends in law enforcement. Do you think they’d be cops if
that were true?”

Pause. Come on Frisco. Listen to sense.
“No,” came Frisco’s reply.
Craig closed his eyes and concentrated. “I’ve never had to kill anyone, Frisco, and

neither do you.”

“But you know cops who have.”
“Very few. It isn’t like it is on television.”
“You shot at anyone?”
“Yes.”
Frisco snickered. “What, are you a bad shot?”
“Maybe I am. Are you a good shot?”
“No…I. I never shot a gun.”
“Were you planning on shooting one tonight?”
“Don’t lay that one on me. I didn’t shoot nothin’ tonight.”
“That’s good, Frisco. You can still get out of this. You haven’t hurt anyone.”
“I don’t got no choice.” Frisco’s voice softened. “No choice.”
“You always have a choice, Frisco.” Craig’s heart seemed to twist in his chest, his

breathing coming harder than he wanted. He thought Harris was still in the van with him,
as well as Mick and Ian listening in to the conversation. He didn’t know. Everything
within him concentrated on making sure Frisco abandoned a suicide mission. “If Boozer
was the man who was dissed, why isn’t he here taking care of business?”

Another lengthy pause. “He’s the man. What he says goes. I do this and I’m in. I’m

one of The Dragons.”

Craig opened his eyes and found Dace, Mick and Ian staring at him. Tension as

precarious as a tight rope stretched in the air. “Being in the Dragons isn’t worth it Frisco.
I lost someone I loved very much because of the Dragons. My girl. We were young. The
gang killed her.”

“She diss someone?”
Ah, hell. How did he explain this to a kid and make him understand? He swallowed

hard and went for broke. “Her father…raped her. She gave up hope. She was driving to a
clinic to get an abortion. A driver sideswiped her and she died. But her life and the
decisions she made to get in the gang, Frisco, those were the things ruined her life. I don’t
want that for you. Dane doesn’t want it for you. Let’s work this out. You put down your
weapons and walk out. No one will hurt you. No one.”

Another lengthy silence.
“Frisco? You there?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Craig thought he heard softening in the kid’s voice. If he could break through to him,

this could end right here. Right now. No bloodshed.

Relief made Craig weak. He was so thirsty he reached for a bottle of water and

sucked down a large gulp. “That’s good, Frisco. That’s fantastic. Now put down your
weapons and walk out with your friend.”

Craig turned off the speaker part of the phone as the commander barked orders to the

team. Maybe this operation would go down as successful. Maybe—

The commander cursed. “Shit. The one with an automatic weapon has a bead on

Frisco. He’s talking to him. Appears he’s threatening Frisco.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Craig said.
“Frisco is now aiming his handgun at the woman’s head,” Trey said.
Craig cursed under his breath. “Frisco, you still there?”
“I’m here. I got the bitch who dissed the man. Now she’ll pay.” The boy’s voice

trembled, and Craig knew he didn’t want to do this. The other boy was forcing the kid’s

hand.

A thousand scenes ran through Craig’s head. How could he make this turn out right?

Saving this kid’s life and the woman’s life meant everything. Focus man. Focus.

“Clear shot on the target with the automatic weapon,” Trey said.
“Clear line of sight on Frisco,” Kelso said.
Craig’s hand clenched the water bottle. “Frisco, it’s time to come out now. Time to

forget this. Dane doesn’t want you to die. I don’t want you to die.”

“Nobody but The Dragons cares about me. And when Dane left The Dragons, I knew

he didn’t care about me.” Frisco’s voice cracked.

Craig felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. “Frisco, is the other boy

demanding you hurt the woman?”

Frisco’s voice trembled. “No. No. I’m going to kill her.”
“Frisco, please listen. You don’t have to do this. There’s a way out of this.”
“No way out. Never has been.” Frisco’s voice held a new tone. As if he was old. So

old that the end was preferable to struggling onward.

The commander barked more orders. “Team set to go in if necessary.”
Craig knew it was now or never. Either the team would go in, or the snipers would

have to take a shot. Shooting a kid…ohGod, ohGod.

“Listen, Frisco. Don’t throw away your life,” Craig said in desperation. “There’s

always a way out of this. Always. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me.” Frisco’s voice sounded sad now.
“The other kid is moving up behind Frisco,” Kelso’s voice said.
A shot rang out.
“Frisco is down!” Trey’s voice rang out.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Craig’s curse shot out, filled with savage anger. “Frisco!”
Voices collided.
A second skated by in a jumble inside Craig’s head. Craig heard Trey and Kelso’s

statements over his headpiece.

Overhead the storm turned more violent, as if playing along with the drama. Rain

came down in sheets, the lighting a blue white flash, thunder merciless.

Two shots rang out.

Chapter Sixteen

Leigh’s doorbell rang at ten o’clock, just when she’d slipped into a sleep shirt and

blue terry cloth robe and slippers.

“Who the hell—?”
Thunder rolled in the distance, heralding a new storm threatening to break free. She

yawned.

The doorbell rang again, an urgent sound that hurried her across the living room to

the door at the same time. She made certain to peer out the peephole. Craig.

It took a second for her to register that she was seeing him there. After all, she didn’t

expect to see him so soon after their last tense conversation. Her heart thudded, a dull and
painful beat.

She opened the door. He stood there in brown boots, jeans, and faded navy blue t-

shirt. After the rainstorm, the night was crisp, but he didn’t wear a jacket. His hands were
stuffed in his jeans pockets. More than that, his face registered a barely contained
emotion she couldn’t define. A wildness that hovered on the edge. A violence that would
have given her caution if she didn’t know him so well.

“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
She stepped back from the door, and he entered without a word. Even after she

locked the door and stood in front of him, he gazed into the living area like a zombie.

“Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?” she asked with a smile. “Something

strong?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Never drink and drive.”
“Right.” She nodded as he stared at the carpet and didn’t move. “Tea? Water?”
“No. Thanks.”
“Sit down then. Relax.”
He sank onto the couch, but stayed on the edge, as if he couldn’t relax. She saw the

haunted edge in those eyes, in depths where humor, affection, and sexual heat had
burned. Her heart ached for him.

She sat on the couch beside him, settling slowly. Leigh took a chance and touched

his back. He flinched, muscles in his back rigid in response. Tension radiated from him,
as if he might explode at any moment. Better to say nothing.

For a full minute he rested unmoving, not speaking, barely breathing. Her concern

heightened, but she stayed quiet. He’d speak when ready.

Finally he took a breath, a deep, heavy breath filled with burden. He looked at her,

and she caressed his back with a gentle stroke.

“Sorry.” His voice was thick with unshed emotion. “I was wandering around town.

Just driving. Trying to get my head on straight. I can’t afford to be fucked-up over…”

She rubbed his back. “Celeste called and told me what happened. I’m sorry. Trey and

Kelso must feel awful, too.”

“They had no choice,” he said.
She sighed. “I know.”
Feeling unable to express anything that would give him immediate comfort, she

decided saying nothing more made sense. Wait until Craig talks. Let him say what he
needs when he needs.

A few minutes passed, her hand tracing gentle circles on his back, showing comfort

the only way she could. She had a feeling trying anything else physically wouldn’t go
over with him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Frisco was only fourteen years old.”
“Frisco was the kid that held the woman hostage?”
He nodded, then buried his head in his hands. “Yeah. I was talking to him. Trying to

get him to…” He sighed. “What does it matter now? He’s dead.”

“Do you want to tell me everything that happened?”
At first she didn’t expect he would. When he shifted and sat back on the couch, she

curled up next to him, near but not too near. The words came out haltingly, his voice so
tight and hurting she could feel the pain herself. He hesitated, the details precise, as if he
wouldn’t dare leave anything out. As if he’d given this briefing once before. He probably
had. By the time he gritted out the last word, his face remained granite hard, almost cold.

What his face wouldn’t say, his voice did. “After the kid named Ghost shot Frisco in

the back, Trey and Frisco shot at the same time. Trey to break the store glass front, Kelso
to take down Ghost. The kid named Ghost, he was sixteen.”

She swallowed, her voice clogged with empathic pain. “They saved the hostage.

None of the hostages were hurt, right?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”
She scooted closer, not caring if he rejected her nearness. She rubbed his bicep, then

curled her fingers around it. The power under her fingers, the strength of his body and
mind reassured her he would recover from today.

“It doesn’t make you feel any better, though,” she said. “You know you did your

best, and still…”

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back. “Did I do my best?”
“I know you, Craig. You gave your all. I have no doubts. You’re a great cop, and

there isn’t anything more you could have done.”

He opened his eyes, pinpointed her with those intense eyes. “Isn’t there?”
Silence hung there for several moments. “What about Dane? Does he know about

Frisco?”

“Yeah. His foster parents told him before I could get a chance to. I heard Dane

shouting over the phone that he hated me. I killed his friend.”

Ah. There was the worst of it. She rubbed his arm, laid her head on his shoulder.

“Oh, Craig. God, I’m so sorry. You know Dane doesn’t mean it. He’s a good kid. He
tried to save his friend, but Frisco was too far gone.”

Craig’s fists clenched, his bunched muscles under her fingers feeling like steel. “I

had him. Frisco was going to surrender, Goddamn it!” Craig jackknifed off the couch.
“Look, I should go. You don’t need to listen to this. I don’t know why I came—” He
started for the door.

“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Stay and talk. I’m a good listener. You know I am.”
His laugh lacked humor. “After the way things have been between us lately?”
“Have they been that bad? We’ve had good times. And we’ve finished everything for

Mick and Celeste’s wedding. We just need to iron out the rough spots. Between us, I
mean.”

Though his face remained somber, a hint of relief colored his eyes. His mouth

tightened, his muscles hardening under her fingertips once more. Under her touch he
shuddered. An ache centered in her heart as she recognized the turmoil roiling within
him. If she’d negotiated for the hostages, to try and save lives, would she have felt the
same heartache at the end when two boys lost their lives?

When he didn’t speak, she did the only thing she could think of to provide comfort.

She slipped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder to hug him. “It’s
all right. I’m here.”

What else could she say or do that wouldn’t prove hollow?
With a soft groan, a sound of utter frustration and mourning, Craig’s arms went

around her and he crushed her to his chest. She absorbed his strength and hoped that he
would take some of hers.

Thunder rumbled overhead as raindrops pelted the windows.
He shuddered in her arms once more as he buried his face in her hair. As she pulled

back enough to see his expression, she saw the telltale sheen of wetness in his eyes. Big
macho men…dangerous men like Craig didn’t cry. At least not if they could help it. A
single tear traced down his cheek, but instead of trying to brush it away, he plunged one
hand into her hair and angled his mouth over hers.

Though she hadn’t expected it, passion exploded. His tongue touched hers, thrusting,

hot with the rhythm of lovemaking. Her nipples tingled, her body on fire, soul yearning to
fall deeper into a tangle of desire. The passion came fast, furious, racing to extinguish the
hurt she knew throbbed in his mind and soul. The wound was cut deep, but she wanted to
heal him. Oh, how she wanted to heal both of them.

His tongue seduced, asked for her to follow wherever he led. She went willingly,

eager to plunge into the unknown. His body felt so hot, powerful, and his masculinity
called to her femininity with a fierceness that drove her wild.

She tore his t-shirt over his head, wrenched at his belt. He pushed her fingers out of

the way and dealt with buckle, button, and zipper. She unbelted her robe and let the
heavy material fall to her feet. He reached down, skimming her thighs as he drew the
silky pink nightshirt up and off.

As Craig’s gaze roamed from her mouth over her breasts and lingered there, the heat

of his attention seared her in a place he’d never touched before. She sensed desperation, a
need to obliterate the horror he’d witnessed today. And she would give him that.

His hands drifted over her neck, a feather-light touch that sent tingles of pleasure

darting over her skin. A second later his palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over
her nipples in sensual circles. Her nipples went hard, so sensitive she gasped with
pleasure. His mouth closed over one nipple, tongue swirling, lips suckling until she
thought she’d go crazy. She wriggled, gasped. She held his head to her breasts as he
tortured one under the wet attention of his tongue while he ministered to the other with
gentle pinches and tugs between finger and thumb.

“Craig.”
“Mmm?” His tongue swirled again, and her arousal shot upward.
“Please.”
“What do you need?” was his guttural question. “Tell me.”
“You. Only you.”
Her fingers slipped into the back of his jeans. She cupped his ass with both hands

and squeezed the firm flesh. He gasped. “Ah, God.” His mouth teased her ear.

Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms and walked back to her bedroom. He

laid her down on the bed, then set to work removing his boots, socks, jeans and briefs. In
the low light from a single bedside lamp, his nakedness glowed. Planes of smooth flesh.
Hard angles. Hair sprinkled over thick muscle. His cock, fully erect, made the muscles
between her legs clench. She wanted to hold that long, hard erection deep within her.

A flash of lightning and then another startled her, but he didn’t move. As thunder

crashed close, she saw it as fitting for the danger that crackled between them. Or perhaps
it was danger only for her.

She was in peril of discovering the final phase of falling desperately in love with this

cop.

Could he love her even a little? She knew he cared a great deal. She’d had plenty of

evidence showing it. In his eyes she saw an alpha male ready to claim his woman, an
animal intensity that should have frightened. Surprisingly it stoked her desire, brought it
so high that she squirmed on the bed, clenching at the soft comforter. Between her legs
the wet heat made her feel swollen, open and ready. She was so hollow, aching for Craig
to fill her.

He climbed onto the bed, bracketing her with his arms and legs. For a few seconds

he took her in, his eyes cooling now to a gentle fire. He kissed his way down her neck,
across her breasts to toy with her nipples. Each rasp of his hot, wet tongue over her
nipples made her writhe. She clutched at his head as he kissed down, down over her belly
to the top of her pussy. He parted her thighs and smiled. Fitting his hands under her ass,
he lifted, brought her higher and plunged in to taste. His lips sealed over her, his tongue
plunging to French kiss. She gasped, not prepared.

Oh, God. It wasn’t that he hadn’t given her head before. But this…oh, this was

different, so sinful and delicious as he fucked her with his tongue, pushing in and out.
She gasped, gasped again. He cupped her ass tighter, parting her cheeks. He lowered her
butt back to the bed, and as he did so, he used one finger to spread her arousal down.
Down until he circled the little pucker of her anus. Pleasure zinged from that spot, and
she felt a gush of arousal.

“Oh, God!” She couldn’t restrain the cry.
“Okay?” he asked, voice husky.
“Yes. Yes.”
After tenderly stroking her nether hole, moistening it with her desire, he slipped his

middle finger deep into her backside. A second later he sucked her clit, and it was all
over. She came. Writhing, thrashing under his touch.

She’d barely come down when he reached for the bedside drawer and protection. He

came back to her and sank deep between her thighs, taking her with a swift thrust that
went straight to her cervix. Thick and long, he reached every part of her with each steady,
emphatic thrust. His hips pumped, and she moved under him with eager abandon. She
groaned as the rhythm started slow and torturous. He moved, languorous and delicious as
stroke after stroke caressed sensitive nerve endings and promised a mind-melting
explosion. She clutched at his shoulders, mindless with the ferocity of their lovemaking.

Craig shook from the inside out, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he

tried to maintain control. The cadence of their union drove him nuts, the pleasure so

staggering he wanted to thrust faster until he exploded.

Dozens of sensations bombarded. The smoothness of her lips under his, her breath

hot as she served him life. Her nipples brushed his chest, her hips tilted upward as he
charged forward. Faster. Harder. His thrusts gained strength as she gasped, pleaded, her
body thrashing against him as he fucked her. He couldn’t get enough as her tight heat
clenched around his cock, throbbing as she cried out and came around him. As her sheath
tightened, he lost himself within her. Like a balm her body soothed his desperation, the
hurt that threatened to shred Craig into pieces. Mindless, he strove to bring her to orgasm
again. Propping up on his forearms, he slowed his pace, each thrust a deep, lingering
stroke. Fire exploded in his body as he struggled for control. He was losing it.

“Come for me,” he gasped. “Come.”
His felt lightheaded, aware of nothing but the silken slide of skin against skin, body

to body, the tightness of her sheath.

Her breathing increased, whimpers leaving her throat as she increased the force and

speed.

“Come,” he growled.
Another thrust, as if he’d thrown a switch, she screamed. High. Loud. Filled with

pure ecstasy as she whimpered and moaned, her arms tight around his back, her legs
wrapped around his hips.

Dizzy with desire, he powered his hips into a frantic drive. With a deep, primal

growl he thrust one last time and orgasm slammed into him. Gasping, trembling, Craig
lost himself in the fever. He sank upon her, drained and fulfilled.

As he rolled over and drew Leigh into his arms, Craig knew one thing for certain.

Leigh made him vulnerable in ways he’d never experienced before. She twisted him up,
confused him, drew thoughts and feelings to the surface so quickly and acutely. Tonight
she’d given him a gift. His heart and soul, bruised and hurting, didn’t know what to think
or feel when he’d walked in her door. But she’d given him reason to sink into sexual
oblivion and forget Frisco and how hard he’d worked to try and save the kid.

His arms tightened around Leigh. She burrowed deeper into his embrace. “Thank

you.”

“For what?” she asked, lifting her head. A long fall of hair drifted over one side of

her face.

“For listening to me. I wanted to save Frisco for himself, but I wanted to save him

for Dane as well. Now the kid hates me.”

She kissed his forehead, a soft murmur of regret parting her lips. “No. He doesn’t

hate you. He just doesn’t understand. He’s hurting.”

He groaned and returned her affection with a kiss on the nose. “He won’t understand

for a long time.”

She sighed, her eyes sad. “I wish I could do something to help.”
“You can.” He smiled.
“What?”
“Kiss me again.”

Chapter Seventeen

When Craig arrived home the next morning, his answering machine blinked with one

message. Couldn’t be an important call. Everyone he knew well called him on his cell.
He took his time removing his shoes and then stripping. He took a long shower. After he
wandered into his living room naked, he played back the phone message.

Dane had left a message. “Hey man. I was uh…last time we talked I was mad. I

wasn’t thinkin’ straight. I know you tried to help Frisco. You couldn’t do anything to stop
Ghost from killing him.”

Relief swamped Craig as he grabbed the phone and dialed the number for the

Reynolds’ house.

Dane answered on the second ring. “Hey.”
Craig smiled. “Hey. How are you doing?”
“Feeling better.” The boy’s voice betrayed the truth. He wasn’t feeling better. Who

could blame him?

“Thanks for calling. You want to talk?”
“Yeah.”
“About Frisco? Look, I know he was your friend. I told him you were worried, that

you didn’t want him hurt. I almost had him. He almost gave up. The other boy—”

“Ghost shot him. Then SWAT shot Ghost.” The boy sniffed.
Was he crying? Craig wanted to crawl inside the boy’s mind, to see what it would

take to ease his pain. “I’m sorry as hell, Dane. I wish I could have done more. You were a
good friend to him.”

“Yeah. Um…could we…uh, meet somewhere and talk?”
Surprised but pleased, Craig answered without hesitation. “Sure.” Craig looked at his

watch. “I don’t have to be to work until later this afternoon.”

“We can have breakfast.”
The kid’s suggestion brought pleasure to Craig. Any way to encourage the boy to

communicate would go a long way to helping him grieve Frisco in a nondestructive way.

“Where do you want to meet?” Craig asked.
“I dunno. Where do you like to eat?”
“The Pancake House off Sixth and Main is good.”
“What time?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be there,” the kid said. “You could bring your girlfriend if you want.
“You don’t mind if someone else is there?”
“Nah. I like Miss Leigh. She’s pretty.”
“I’ll check and see if she’s free.”
”Okay, see ya.” And the kid hung up.
Frowning, Craig looked at the phone, and shrugged. Kids. Who could figure them

out? Craig called Leigh a few seconds later as he headed to the bedroom.

She answered on the second ring. “Couldn’t stand to be away from me that long?”
“Hey beautiful.” He explained Dane’s desire to see them both. “Sounds like he needs

to talk.”

“That’s fantastic. At least he’s not doing something nuts. He’s getting this off his

chest. It’ll be good for him if he talks.”

“I know.” Craig stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. “Thanks again for last

night…I mean…talking. I needed it and you were there for me.”

She sighed, a dreamy sound. “I’m glad I could help.”
He chuckled. “In more than one way.”
“That was a bonus.”
Grinning, his heart lighter than he expected, he said, “I’m not sure why he wants you

there, but if you don’t mind listening to serious teenage boy angst…”

“Not at all. Dane needs us. I’ll meet you there.”
Nine hit the clock as Craig walked into The Pancake House. An eighties tune danced

over the airwaves. The breakfast crowd was pretty much over at this time of the morning
on a Friday. Delicious scents of fresh brewed coffee and eggs and bacon filled the air.
About twenty customers were littered throughout the restaurant. His stomach growled.
Then he spotted Leigh and Dane sitting in a booth near the middle of the restaurant. Craig
glanced at his watch. Nope. He wasn’t late, they’d come early. Leigh was smiling and so
was Dane. A welcome sight. As he stood at the entry gazing in at the morning breakfast
area, he scanned it quickly in his usual manner. He always took in the lay of the land.

Part of him burned with remorse about Frisco, with a solitary part that even Leigh’s

understanding and touch couldn’t relieve. It amazed him that Dane had forgiven him this
quickly. Could it be that easy?

“Hi,” he said as he arrived at the table and slid into the booth beside Leigh.
“Howdy deputy.” Leigh winked, her smile warm and open.
“Hi Dane,” Craig said.
Dane’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and Craig’s heart ached for the boy. He was

trying hard, and yet Craig knew the boy needed time.

Craig reached for his menu and glanced at the breakfasts. “Did you guys order yet?”
Leigh hefted her full coffee mug. “All I’m having is coffee. I had a muffin already

this morning.”

Craig grinned. As if he didn’t remember. He’d enjoyed a breakfast with her that

included licking her and tasting her, and she’d touched him and made love to him until
he’d exploded. The woman fed him in way that nourished his soul. That scared the crap
out of him at the same time it created hope.

“Dane?” Craig asked. “You hungry?”
Dane shook his head. “Just coffee.”
“You drink coffee at your age?” Craig asked with a smile.
Dane smirked and fiddled with the fork lying on his paper napkin. “Better than liquor

or meth.”

“That’s true.” Craig wondered if the kid had ever tried meth and hoped not. “Keep

on drinking the coffee.”

Dane lifted his black coffee and saluted. “I drink it black.”
“Very dangerous.” Leigh winked.
Dane’s half smile disappeared. “I am.”
Craig’s cop instincts urged him to analyze the kid’s statement. A niggling of

apprehension tickled in the back of Craig’s mind.

Instead he began with, “Dane, I’m glad you called and asked us here.” Craig found

these words hard to say, and forced them passed his lips with a dry mouth. “I know I’ve
said sorry before, but I’ll say it again. Frisco had given himself up. He would have
walked out of there. Ghost took that opportunity away from Frisco. And I’m so sorry for
your loss, Dane. He must have been a good friend to you.”

Dane stared at the table, his fingers still working the fork, touching the spines as if

the sharp ends weren’t there, as if he didn’t know he was fiddling with the utensil. Craig
could understand. He’d never considered himself a nervous person, but today his stomach
revolved three sixty.

Dane’s gaze met Craig’s and what Craig saw there startled him. Pure, unadulterated

anger. “Frisco was the best. And you let him die.”

Leigh’s mouth dropped open as shock gripped her. Though she expected Dane to

experience grief over Frisco’s death, she didn’t expect his vehement statement.

Craig’s eyes held pure surprise. “Dane—”
Dane slammed the fork, twines down, into the wooden table. “You let him die.”
Leigh jumped at the violence. Heads turned at the boy’s outburst.
Craig leaned toward the boy, his voice low and controlled. “Dane, calm down.

They’ll throw us out of the restaurant.”

A bruiser of a waiter arrived at their table, his broad shoulders and ham-like biceps

making him appear more like a bouncer than wait help. “Is there a problem?”

Craig held up one hand. “No problem. We’re sorry for the disturbance.”
“No we’re not,” Dane said, his voice sharp as an icicle and just as cold. He

whispered his next words. “You let Frisco die, and you’re gonna pay.”

Leigh’s alarm increased. What had gotten into the boy? Relax Leigh. This isn’t a

slasher movie. The bogeyman won’t pop out and say boo.

Craig sighed. “Okay, let’s go. This isn’t the time or the place for this, Dane. We’ll

talk in private.” Craig started to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He glanced at the
waiter. “We need the check.”

The waiter nodded. “Absolutely.”
As the waiter walked away, Dane said, “Paying the check ain’t going to do you no

good.”

Craig sighed. Before he could speak, trouble burst in the front door.
Leigh flinched as racket at the front of the restaurant startled her. Yelling. Belligerent

voices. Leigh glanced toward the door. She could think of only one thing.

Oh, crap.
Six young men, all dressed in black and packing automatic weapons held at the ready

entered the restaurant. It seemed like ages, but probably took all of a few seconds to
catalog her impressions. The boys looked between sixteen to nineteen years old. Most
were tall kids who promised to turn into powerful men. They wore dark coats down to
their ankles despite the heat, black boots, black t-shirts, earrings, and all sported a dragon
tattoo on their left cheeks. While she’d never encountered goth kids that intended harm,
these boys screamed serious trouble. Dane’s face was carved with a dislike, an
unaccountable hatred she hadn’t seen lurking in his eyes before. Realization hit her along
with gut-wrenching fear. Gang initiation or revenge. Two women screamed, their cries
announcing the intruders. Dane yanked the fork out of the table and slid from the booth.

“You’re gonna pay,” Dane said, his stare pinned on Craig without remorse. He ran

around the corner of the booth, making a strange hand gesture at the young hoods at the
front.

Leigh never would have believed it if she hadn’t seen Dane’s change for herself.

What had happened to the screwed-up but genuinely good-hearted kid? He’d disappeared
in a blink of an eye, replaced by a revenge-hungry boy.

Craig slipped his arm around Leigh’s shoulders and drew her against his body, his

mouth almost touching her ear. He whispered low. “Gang signal. More Dragons.”

Leigh glanced at Craig. Fear didn’t show in his eyes, only grim determination and an

amazing calm. The cop in action.

“What do we do?” she whispered back.
He kissed her temple. “Stay quiet and calm. The less attention we draw to ourselves,

the better. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

A tall boy with shaggy blond hair and dark eyes ringed by some sort of eyeshadow

looked straight at them. His obsidian eyes gleamed with a shocking hostility that made
her skin crawl.

Another kid, his young face marred by a long scar above his right eyebrow, stepped

forward with the blond. “I’m Gonzales…Gonzo to my friends. This is Boozer.”

Leigh remembered that the police were looking for Boozer, wanting to bring him in

for questioning about the hostage situation at the hobby store. Well, they would know
where to find him now.

Boozer stepped to the front of the group, shaking his shaggy blond head like a mane.

His automatic weapon slung over his shoulder, he brought it to bear on the ceiling and
poured loose a blast of gunfire. Women screamed. Ceiling tiles splintered and bits rained
down on the patrons. Craig pushed Leigh’s head down toward his lap and covered her
head with his arms.

“Now you know I mean business.” Boozer’s deep, rage-filled voice came loud and

clear over the music. “Brick, make sure no one’s slippin’ out the back. If they are, shoot
‘em.”

Leigh’s blood froze. Oh, God. Oh, God. She trembled, fear trickling through her

veins like an ice water IV. Craig allowed her to sit up, but kept a possessive arm around
her shoulders.

Brick, a short, stocky kid with jet-black short hair, ran for the back of the restaurant.

More screams. She braced for the sound of gunfire, but none came. An eerie quiet settled
over the restaurant as the music cut off abruptly. Patrons stayed clammed up.

Dane stood with The Dragons, his eyes devoid of compassion or worry. How could

you do this, Dane? How could you? Leigh clutched at Craig’s thigh, her fingers digging
in as anxiety rode her. He clamped one hand over hers and pressed. The reassurance gave
her an anchor.

Boozer turned his attention to Craig and Leigh’s both. “That them, Dane?”
The boy nodded.
Boozer grinned as he kept them in his sights. As he strode across the room toward

Leigh and Craig, Craig’s fingers tightened on hers as if to warn her not to move, to
breathe. Her heartbeat refused to listen to her internal demand not to panic. It thumped
furiously against her chest.

Seconds later Boozer stood next to their table. The kid’s Dragon tat moved as the

boy smiled. He leaned against the side of the booth opposite Craig and Leigh. “You

lookin’ at me? You must be.”

His half-hearted attempt at a Clint Eastwood voice came across dangerous rather

than corny.

“What do you want?” Craig’s voice was calm, modulated low but non-threatening.

He wouldn’t play cowboy and make things worse.

Before the kid could answer, noises, voices of concern and worry came from a table

near the front of the restaurant.

“Someone help! He’s having a heart attack,” an elderly woman’s voice cried out.

“Please help my husband. Call 911.”

“No way.” Boozer shook one hand. “Don’t call 911.”
Craig eased his arm away from Leigh. “Let me help him. I have EMT training.”
Boozer sniggered. “You ain’t a doctor.”
Craig didn’t stand up, but his voice strengthened. “There’s no time to waste. The

man’s life depends on it. Let me help him.”

Boozer shrugged and motioned with his weapon. “Yeah. Whatever. Help him.”
Craig pointed at the beefy waiter, “Is there a first aid kit in here?”
“No,” the waiter said.
Craig’s face flashed with momentary irritation, then he let it go as he spared Leigh a

quick, reassuring glance and left the booth. He headed to the front of the restaurant. Leigh
strained to see over the top of the divider that separated this row of booths from the ones
next to it. Craig arrived at the table and started working on the man.

She heard his voice, “Give him some air. Back up.”
“I’m a nurse,” a woman’s voice said from a booth nearby. “I can help him.”
Boozer nodded to woman and also gestured with his weapon. “Go ahead.” Boozer

turned to the rest of the crowd and sneered. “No more help, okay?”

“We have to get an ambulance,” another man’s voice came from somewhere behind

Leigh.

“Shut up!” Boozer walked passed Leigh and headed toward the man.
She didn’t dare turn her head, afraid of what might happen next. Her neck muscles

tightened, a dull ache. She rubbed the back of her neck and caught the frightened looks of
other patrons around her. Don’t turn into a wimp, Leigh. She sucked in a slow, deep
breath. We’ll be fine. Her faith in Craig to keep the situation under control was
paramount. But even Craig couldn’t control The Dragons if they got a notion into their
heads that included death and destruction.

“We ain’t callin’ no ambulance,” Boozer said from behind her. “Now shut up, old

man.”

Again a total hush came over the restaurant except for Craig’s quiet voice at the front

as he assisted the man, and the nursing chiming in a few seconds later.

“We need some aspirin,” the nurse said. “Does anyone have some?”
Leigh had some in her oversized tote. “I do.” She dug around in her tote and came up

with the small bottle. “Here.”

She started to stand up, not thinking. Boozer pointed his weapon at her point blank,

and she froze. He stepped up to her, nose-to-nose. Pissed at his ridiculous behavior, she
didn’t move. She stared into his eyes, determined she wouldn’t flinch. Maybe he was like
a pesky puppy who demanded attention. Her ire rose to new heights. Just try something
kid. I’d love to kick your nuts up into your throat.

Boozer’s blue eyes glimmered with hostility. “So you’re the cop’s bitch. Maybe

when we leave here today, we should take you with us.”

Dane said from the front, “She ain’t a part of the deal.”
Boozer swung his gaze to Dane. “You said she was, that’s why you invited her

here.”

“We can get MacGilvary to do what we want because she’s here. I didn’t make no

deal that you could take her,” Dane said, his voice sounding strong and confident.

She caught Dane’s gaze and saw a momentary glimmer of remorse. Regret for

getting her caught up in this mess.

Boozer snorted a laugh. “You got some big fat balls, boy. I say what goes. Don’t

ever question me again, or I’ll pop her right here.”

“Hey Boozer,” Gonzo said from the front. “This old man is gonna check out. Let’s

kick him outta here.”

Boozer laughed. “He ain’t going anywhere. He makes a good hostage.”
Craig’s voice rang loud and clear. “If he dies you’ll be charged with murder. All of

you. Let her bring the aspirin.”

“I don’t want nothin’ to do with murdering an old man,” Gonzo said.
Good. Maybe Gonzo’s reluctance would stall any ideas The Dragons had about

harming anyone else.

Boozer grabbed her upper arm in a painful hold, and she gasped. “You don’t go

anywhere unless I say, bitch.”

Anger made her yank at her arm. “Let. Me. Go. All I’m trying to do is help the man.

If he’s having a heart attack the aspirin could save him.”

“What?” Boozer’s sneer and cruel laugh sent a chill shooting up her spine. “Your

boyfriend gonna stop me?”

Staring him down, she said with solid steel. “He doesn’t have to. You’re doing a fine

job of digging your own grave.”

She held her breath as Boozer glared at her. Instead of smacking or killing her, he

released her arm. “Take the old man the aspirin.”

Trembling inside, Leigh left the booth, bottle of aspirin in hand. She took another

deep breath. Walking the fairly short distance to the front took forever as time appeared
to slow. She reached the booth where the old man lay stretched out on the floor. Craig
and the middle-aged nurse knelt next to the man. She handed the aspirin bottle to the
nurse. The gentleman on the floor was sweaty, his lips parted, his breath labored. A moan
left his throat.

Her gaze caught Craig’s, and his eyes reflected reassurance and calm. God, how

could anyone be calm? No one knew what would happen in the next hour or even the
next few minutes. Doesn’t matter, Strong. Now is the time to demonstrate the meaning of
your last name. Be strong.

Boozer stood nearby, his expression bland. “Get back to your table, bitch.”
Bristling at his name calling, she stood and glared at him. “My name is Leigh.”

Without thinking about consequences, she continued with, “I won’t call you asshole if
you don’t call me bitch.”

The room went totally quiet. To say you could hear the proverbial pin drop was an

understatement. Inside Leigh also froze, aware her tendency toward mouthiness might get
her killed. Damn it, Leigh. Shut up.

Chapter Eighteen

“Hold it.” Craig’s voice was sharp as he stood. “Look, I get the impression Dane and

The Dragons blame me for Frisco’s death. If that’s the case, let everyone else go. They
aren’t a part of this.”

No. Oh, God, Craig. Leigh’s heartbeat started to pound furiously again as she

contemplated Craig alone with the gang. No, he wasn’t defenseless. Far from it, but six
against one was still six against one. And as far as she knew, Craig didn’t have a weapon
on him. The Dragons could easily kill him. Tears sprang to her eyes. Please, no.

Hold yourself together. Craig needs your strength. Falling to pieces isn’t an option.

As Boozer’s fingers crushed down on her arm unexpectedly, she gasped in pain.

Craig’s face turned hard with anger. “Boozer, come on. You’re hurting her.”
She took a solidifying breath. “I’m sorry, all right? A woman doesn’t like to be

called a bitch. I just reacted.”

“Come on Boozer, let her go.” Again Dane came to the rescue, stepping into their

small group.

Craig held his hands up in a non-threatening fashion. “If Dane wants revenge on me

for Frisco, so be it. I’m the one to blame. As I said earlier, these people are innocent. I
don’t know how long this man on the floor can last without medical attention. He needs
help now.”

Dane stepped near Craig. “Yeah. Let everyone else out, and we’ll punish

MacGilvary.”

Unbelievable. Leigh tried to wrap her mind, her sympathy around what the boy must

be feeling to zigzag from hostile to trying to help.

Boozer sneered and shouldered his weapon. His eyes reflected a cold indifference.

“What do I care if an old man dies? He’s old. He’s gonna die soon any way.”

“If he dies, you get the electric chair,” the nurse said spitefully.
Boozer’s expression was cold as a block of ice in the arctic. “Not before I take you

with me.”

The woman recoiled.
Craig’s frown said he could eat leather. Leigh saw his gaze dart to her arm and that’s

when Leigh saw the nasty red patches on her upper arm. They’d probably turn into
bruises.

Boozer gestured with his gun at Craig. “You. Get away from that old man and let the

nurse help him. You take your pretty little girly back to the booth and stay there.”

Craig didn’t argue. He moved around the man lying on the floor and slipped his arm

around Leigh’s shoulder. With a gentle squeeze, he steered her away from Boozer.
Wordlessly they settled into the booth.

He gently clasped her left forearm and examined her upper arm. A muscle worked in

his jaw, and his eyes took on an unforgiving gleam. She knew he wanted to take a piece
out of Boozer. She’d seen Craig in full alpha mode before, but this time the mingling of
anger and concern made a statement. No matter where their relationship went, he cared a
great deal for her. She believed that if it came down to it, he would die for her.

Emotion punctured her. She trusted him with her life, she trusted him in every way

possible. And that knowledge thrust the truth home. Waves of emotions slammed into
Leigh until tears surged into her eyes. She forced them back with effort.

Somewhere along their crazy relationship, she’d fallen completely in love with him.

It sucked the breath right out of her. What a hell of a way to recognize the truth.

“You okay?” he whispered the question close to her ear.
She had to swallow around the huge lump growing in her throat. Emotions bubbling

inside her threatened to erupt like a volcano.

Craig frowned, his eyes narrowing on her. “Leigh?”
Her insides seemed to be quaking, her thoughts unsteady. She met his gaze. “I’m

fine. In case I don’t get another chance, I want to tell you I trust you one hundred
percent.”

Craig’s eyes seemed to lighten for just a second, a warmth inside them she couldn’t

mistake. He didn’t get a chance to reply, though.

Boozer wandered their way, his weapon toted over his shoulder by the sling. He

halted by their booth and glared.

“What’s your plan, Boozer?” Craig asked, calm and straight-forward.
Boozer’s smile almost made him look like a bad imitation of Heath Ledger’s Joker.

Then again, maybe he was as insane as that character. “Major havoc, man.”

“What kind of havoc?” Leigh asked.
Boozer leaned a bit closer, his AK-47 dangling nearer. “Waiting is hell, right? At

least that’s what they tell me. I never have to wait for nothin’. I take what I need if
someone don’t give it to me.”

She could believe it. Sociopathic little bastard. “How convenient.”
Craig’s arm tightened around her, as if in warning. She kicked herself. Better keep

her mouth in check if they wanted to survive this.

“I’ll talk to ‘em,” Dane said, sauntering around the corner toward the booth, his eyes

emotionless.

“Son-of-a-bitch! Who called the cops?” Brick held his weapon up in a threatening

manner. “Boozer, traffic stopped outside and I think there’s cops down the street.”

SWAT, I hope.

“Shit!” Boozer ran to the front of the building. “Too early man.”
Too early for what? Craig didn’t know if SWAT had arrived, but eventually they’d

show up if this situation didn’t resolve itself soon.

Leigh shivered under Craig’s touch and tightened his arm around her. Her statement

that she trusted him a hundred percent had pierced him deep. He’d wanted to draw her
into his arms and tell her right then how much she meant to him.

When Boozer had gripped her arm and hurt her, Craig had marshaled everything

inside him to keep from decking the scumbag. Doing so would have made the situation
far worse—chances were that Boozer or one of his dumb fuck friends would have shot
someone. Craig would have to stay low key. Negotiating was an option, but Craig
couldn’t work the situation the way he would if he was in the SWAT command center.
Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. Stress. Yeah, that was sure as hell it. Was it just
yesterday he’d tangled with the Dragons? Sure, the hostages had come out unscathed—
physically. He doubted this situation would resolve with a happy ending with the elderly
man’s health already in question.

With the six kids holding up this restaurant and the wide open view through the

windows at front, someone had seen the hostage situation and called the cops. Craig
could try to keep things cooled down in the meantime. Craig could see over the partition
to the front of the restaurant and caught a quick glimpse of Boozer’s face. Fear flashed
over the big kid’s features, then he covered the reaction with bravado.

“This man isn’t doing so well,” the nurse said up front. “Can we take him out of

here? At least get help for him?”

A couple of voices in the restaurant hailed the idea. “We can’t let him die.”
Boozer seemed to hesitate the slightest bit. If Craig could somehow convince the kid

to release everyone and take him as a hostage…granted he didn’t want to stay in here
with the trigger-happy Dragon Lord Boozer. Still, if Leigh was out of here he could face
anything else that came after that. If anything happened to her…

No. Over his dead body.
“Let paramedics pick up the man and take him out,” Craig said as Boozer turned

toward him. “Better yet…since I’m the one Dane has a problem with, keep me and let
everyone else go. As a gesture of good faith.”

“No.” Leigh whispered close to Craig’s ear. “Craig…”
Fierce protectiveness swamped Craig, as well as the desire to reassure her. He kissed

her temple. If it meant offering himself up on a platter to insure her safety, so be it.

“Dane, come closer.” Boozer gestured with his weapon. “Seems your cop wants to

make amends.”

Craig wanted to resolve the situation, but knew they all walked on tenterhooks.

Boozer was a hardcore criminal. Yesterday, after the shootout, Craig had discovered
Boozer’s real name was Clay Alexander Boozerman. Hence the Boozer handle. His
record included time spent in juvenile hall for a wide variety of offenses, none quite bad
enough to send him to jail longer. Well, he’d just assured from this situation that his life
would end in hard time. If he didn’t do something worse tonight and commit suicide by
cop.

When he stood next to the table, the sneer on his face appeared forced. As if some of

the bravado he’d felt earlier, some of the pain, had drained away. Craig could only hope
so. Thankfully, Boozer went back to the big windows, where four other gang members
congregated. Craig wondered what was taking Brick so long—he’d seen him go back into
the kitchen to supervise the staff. It was quiet as hell back there.

Craig’s thoughts returned to Dane. The pain he’d experienced when he realized the

meeting this morning was set up in the name of revenge had speared hard and deep. It
hurt that his efforts to help Dane were rebuffed with the threat of reprisal. Craig couldn’t
ignore the touch-and-go situation.

“What do you want?” Dane asked, his voice low.
Craig allowed his arm to slip from around Leigh, but he didn’t stand. No reason to

go alpha. “Do you believe I deliberately allowed Frisco to die?”

Dane slid into the booth across from them. “Yeah, you did.”
At least the boy’s attitude had chilled somewhat. He didn’t sound as positive.
“If you want, I can allow you to hear the tapes recorded of the negotiation. You’ll

see that I told him that you were worried about him, that you didn’t want him to die.”

“Well, you failed. It didn’t work.”
Craig nodded. “That’s the way life is sometimes, Dane. People fail. Many times. But

you don’t quit. You don’t check out. Crime is not the answer to your problems and never
will be. There are better ways to solve problems.”

Dane’s hair fell over his forehead, the long, out-of-shape mop giving the kid an

orphan look. “The Dragons are my family. They’re the only ones who care.”

“They care by dragging you into larceny, robbery, and hostage situations. Look

what’s happened in Gold Rush in two days. Two hostage situations. That’s crazy, Dane.”

Dane shrugged, but Craig thought he saw understanding dawning in the young man’s

eyes.

Grief swelled inside Craig. “If it makes you feel better, I felt I’d failed until I

realized I did everything I could to save Frisco. Frisco decided to give up on himself. He
could’ve walked out alive, but his friend pulled the trigger on him. That’s when the
snipers took Ghost down. One to break the glass and the other to shoot Ghost. Ghost
didn’t give us any choice, Dane. SWAT is in the business of saving lives. The best result
is an operation where no-one gets hurt. No one. Yesterday was a bad day because two
people died.”

Dane started to respond when Boozer shouted from the front. “Dane, check on Brick.

See what the hell’s goin’ on back in the kitchen.”

Dane headed to the kitchen without questioning Boozer, and Craig cursed under his

breath.

Leigh slipped her arm around Craig’s shoulders and pressed, and the reassurance

gave him strength. He turned to her and caught an equal fortitude in her eyes.

The swinging doors opened violently, and Dane rushed through. “Boozer! Brick is

gone and so is everyone from the kitchen. The back door is open.”

Most likely that explains the police out front.
Boozer spewed a string of curses that burned even Craig’s hardened ears. The brutal

gang member rushed to the kitchen, his face twisted with feral anger. Shouting and more
frustrated curses issued from the kitchen. Craig couldn’t stop the sick feeling in his
stomach that this would hurt their situation. Either Brick let the people escape, or they
overpowered him. Either way, Boozer might take it out on the remaining hostages. Craig
decided he’d have to feel good that at least a few hostages had managed an escape.

Leigh remained quiet, but when Craig glanced at her, the millisecond-long twinkle in

her eye told him she savored that hostages had escaped.

“Why aren’t the cops helping us?” One man’s voice harped from near the left side of

the restaurant.

From this angle Craig couldn’t see the man, but he recognized the voice. Few people

could have a more condescending and superior attitude than the mayor’s brother, Shubert
Ross. He’d been teased unmercifully as a kid and called Sherbet. In his fifties, married,
and with three college-aged kids, the lawyer believed push and shove had gotten him to
the top, as well as a very clever way to disguise it when he stepped on anyone to get
there.

Fantastic. All we need is someone like Sherbet in the restaurant.
Before Craig could form a sentence to calm the man, another man said, “Maybe

they’ll just leave us in here, then come rushing in and shoot the bad guys after we’re
already dead.”

Holy shit. Did people really think that’s what SWAT did?
Sherbet grunted. “The mayor and I think Gold Rush should have its own SWAT

team and not rely on the county.”

“Shut up back there,” one of the gang members at the front said.
For once Craig agreed with the gang member. While Craig wanted to march over to

Sherbet and tell him to shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t help their situation, and
he couldn’t afford to cause more problems in the middle of this already problematic
situation.

As Boozer burst back into the main restaurant, Leigh started and gripped Craig’s

bicep with both hands. Was she scared? Or afraid that Craig would do something rash?
Rash wouldn’t be a good idea this point.

Boozer came at them and Craig instinctively swiveled in the seat so Leigh was

behind him. Once more she felt her hand on his back. Steady man. Steady.

Boozer snarled, “What the fuck did you do?”
Craig wanted to smile at the ridiculous question, but now was not the time for

bravado. “Nothing. I thought it was kind of strange how quiet it was back there, but—”

“Get up!” Boozer spit the demand in Craig’s face.
Reluctant but knowing he didn’t have any choice, Craig stood slowly. Behind him he

thought he heard Leigh’s voice whisper softly, “No.”

Boozer slid his weapon off his shoulder and aimed at Craig. Craig didn’t hold up his

hands. Instead he stayed calm in the face of possible death. Please God, if he shoots,
don’t let him hit Leigh.

One of the other gang members came to Boozer’s side. “Boozer, the old man ain’t

doing so well.”

Boozer swung toward his friend, murderous intent clear on his face. “Do I look like I

give a fuck?”

“Hey man, it’s murder one on our heads if he dies,” the gang member said. “Why

don’t we just let—”

“Say another word and I’ll shoot you myself,” Boozer said to the boy, gesturing for

him to go away.

The phone rang at the front desk.

Chapter Nineteen

Leigh’s heart drummed in her ears as a wave of stark fear battered her. Boozer kept

his automatic weapon pointed at Craig, and the thought of Boozer hurting Craig sent her
stomach into a violent roll. She put her hand over her mouth.

When the phone continued to ring, Boozer yelled up to the front, “Hobo, answer the

fuckin’ phone and tell whoever it is to fuck off!”

Craig remained standing, unmoving, his body strong and appearing braced for

anything.

Please, please be safe.
Boozer turned back to Craig. “Sit down, SWAT boy. I’ll deal with you later.”
Craig slid back into the booth. Leigh eased her hand over his thigh. His muscle

flexed under her touch. Once more his arm slid around her shoulders and drew her close.
His lips brushed her temple. She closed her eyes and sank into his affection and
protection.

Boozer took the phone from Hobo. “Yeah, this is Boozer. I run the Dragons. I ain’t

interested in fuckin’ around. Yeah, we got a SWAT fuck here and an old man with a
heart attack. You try anything and they’re both dead. Everyone in here is dead.” Boozer
stalked back and forth near the counter, the cordless phone allowing him to move in a
wide arc. “This is what we want. We’re going to take MacGilvary and do whatever the
hell we want with him. Then you can have back the rest of these douche bags.” Boozer
slammed the receiver back into the base.

Not good.
“Just let us go,” the annoying man who’d barked earlier was talking again. “You’ve

got MacGilvary over there. He’s the one you want.”

She wanted to tell the man to stick it up his ass, but refused to become part of the

problem.

“Shut that guy up,” Boozer said to Hobo.
Hobo made tracks to the man’s area. A second later a cry, a grunt, gasps of outrage.

A woman cried out. “Don’t!”

Leigh tensed, but Craig’s arm tightened. He whispered into her ear. “Easy. We’ll get

through this.”

When she dared look at him, Craig’s eyes showed confidence and a keen desire to

reassure.

“I know.”
Leigh closed her eyes. God, how long would this nightmare continue?
Dane stayed in the booth the entire time, his eyes growing wider by the minute.

Maybe the boy understood now what the revenge plan might do to more than Craig.

“It wasn’t suppose to happen this way,” Dane said.
“What did you think would happen?” Craig asked in a modulated voice untainted by

anger.

“I didn’t mean for all these other people…” Dane shook his head. “And Leigh…”
“You didn’t think a violent, illegal act such as this would hurt anyone other than

me,” Craig said as his arm slipped from around Leigh.

“Yeah,” Dane said, shame returning to his voice.
At least now the boy understood how his betrayal could cost all their lives and not

just one.

“Please, this man is going to die,” the nurse said. “I’ve done all I can for him.”
A soft sobbing came from that direction. The man’s wife. Leigh’s heart twisted.

Empathy filled her eyes with tears.

The phone rang again. Boozer answered. “I don’t care. No, you can’t talk to the cop.

He’s fine.” Boozer listened for a long time. Then he said, “Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll send
out this old man.” He slammed down the phone again.

Surprised as hell that Boozer had given up even one person, she was glad the heart

attack victim would soon reach emergency medical assistance.

“Dane, Hobo, Franks,” Boozer called out, “Carry the old man out front and leave

him.”

Dane strode down the aisle without hesitation to do Boozers bidding. Leigh wanted

to scream. But what else could the boy do? Leigh couldn’t see the proceedings well from
her position, but she heard it. The front doors squeaking open, the grunting of men
shifting weight, carrying a burden.

“Let the woman go with her husband,” the nurse said.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Boozer said. “Let her go.”
If luck proved on their side, maybe exiting this situation would occur sooner rather

than later.

After the woman and her husband left the building and the gang members returned,

she breathed a sigh of relief. She heard Dane arguing with Boozer up front.

“I take it all back, man,” Dane said.
“You can’t take it back,” Boozer’s angry voice said. “Look here, you stupid shit, you

ain’t turnin’ back now. That isn’t the way it works. You kill this cop and you prove your
worth to the Dragons.”

“I can’t kill ‘em. I won’t do it.”
“Then you’ll just have to stick around and watch me do it. Fuckin’ stupid kids.

Always cleaning up their mess.”

Leigh almost snorted her disbelief. Boozer sounded like an unhappy mother with a

brood of recalcitrant children. As a gang leader he might have charisma to some, but her
blood ran cold at Boozer’s threat, her heartbeat quickening in anxiety. Craig’s hand
covered hers on his arm.

“Honey,” Craig said softly into her ear, “You’re nails are cutting into my arm.”
As he caressed her fingers, she loosened her grip. “Sorry. I…”
He gathered her hand in his hand and brought them to his mouth. Heat sprang into

her cold fingers as his lips caressed in a gentle tribute. “It’s all right.”

Warmth and reassurance and perhaps even love burned in his eyes, and she hoped

with all her heart that when they left here she would discover the truth.

“Get up, cop.” Boozer’s voice sounded on top of them, and she jerked.
Craig’s touch left hers, and her heart started a slow thud, thud. Craig walked with

Boozer’s weapon poking him in the back. Everything went into slow motion, or so it
seemed to her. Murmurs of people around her disappeared while her attention centered on
Craig walking away from her toward an unknown fate.

Leigh’s entire body froze with fear. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know

how she could take it.

Boozer had Craig at the front of the store now, right in front of the windows for

anyone, including his fellow officers, to see. Her eyes stung with tears as she tried to
maintain composure.

Boozer lifted his weapon and pointed at Craig’s head. Horror filled her soul.
“No!” Dane launched himself between Craig and Boozer. Automatic weapon fire

exploded in the room.

* * * *

Pain exploded in Craig’s shoulder as he slammed into the hostess’s counter. Not in

the head. The kid missed me. A woman screamed, glass shattered at the front.

Craig’s thoughts jumbled, confusion assaulting his brain when it shouldn’t have.

Female screams echoed around him as SWAT charged through the smoke from a flash
bang, their commands harsh and demanding.

Then Craig’s brain cleared. Boozer lay dead at his feet, but Dane also lay in a pool of

blood nearby Craig.

“Fuck,” Craig muttered, “Dane!”
Craig pressed his hand to a wound in Dane’s left shoulder. The kid had taken a bullet

for him. Confusion reigned among the patrons as SWAT moved in, but Craig kept his
gaze on the unconscious, bleeding boy.

He didn’t know how much time passed before he heard Trey and Mick at his side

along with Leigh, all demanding to know if he was hurt.

He barely glanced up at them. “No. The blood is all his. Dane stepped into the line of

fire.”

Leigh knelt beside Dane, her hand on Craig’s back a soothing counterpoint to the

heated anger roiling inside him. Paramedics rolled into the scene in seconds, urged by
SWAT’s call to make tracks.

* * * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.
The monotonous but vital sign of life echoed in Dane’s hospital room, and Craig

wanted to scream with impatience. Wanted to beg the boy to wake.

If only he’d wake up.
Stop.
Too many what ifs guaranteed Craig would feel guilt for what had happened. Ah,

hell. He already did.

Dane’s body seemed wired for sound with various tubes coming out of him. The

sterile scent, the undeniable coldness of a hospital setting assured that no one could
mistake the place for anything else.

Ten hours had passed since the incident at the restaurant, and Gold Rush still reeled

from the unusual violence that had rocked the city first at The Hobby Store and The
Pancake House. Gang task forces, which had already started work on gang problems
many years ago, had whipped into higher gear. Craig didn’t know if the task forces could
make a dent in the Dragons, but he couldn’t fault them for trying. Craig wasn’t giving up.

And for damn certain not on the boy lying in the bed nearby. Dane would be all

right. Though he’d lost a lot of blood from the shoulder wound, the bullet had passed
through without hitting any vital organs. Quick emergency surgery assured Dane would
survive. His youth and strength would take care of the rest.

Considering Boozer had an automatic weapon and had sprayed bullets, it was a

freakin’ miracle no one else had been hit. The man who’d suffered a heart attack would
also be fine, but he’d barely made it to the hospital in time.

Craig eased out of the hard metal and plastic chair, stifling the moan that escaped as

his muscles protested. He glanced down at the green scrubs he wore. His blood stained
clothes were gone. He stared down at Dane’s pale face, his dark hair a sharp contrast
against the white pillowcase and sheet. Even the hospital green blanket over the boy’s
lower body looked as if it belonged in a morgue. A sad, lonely place.

The door swung open and Craig tensed before he saw Leigh. She glided into the

room. Her hair tangled around her shoulders, her skin pale, dark shadows under her eyes.
She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She’d gone home to shower and change after Craig insisted she take some time for

herself. If he’d had his way, she would still be at home sleeping off the trauma of the
day’s events. She’d insisted she’d come back to the hospital once she’d freshened up.
Here she was, reliable as always. He’d always considered himself a rock, a tough son-of-
a-bitch. He’d had to be. Finding strength in leaning on her, in taking comfort from her—it
was fuckin’ amazin’.

As he stretched, she stood next to him at the bed, her gaze pinpointed on Dane.

“How’s he doing?”

“Doctor Treemont said he may not wake up for a few more hours.”
He felt her gaze on him, searching and intense. “You look like you could use some

sleep.”

“I dozed off in the chair.”
“Hmm.” She made a noise of half agreement, half concern and reached up to palm

his cheek. “Sure you don’t want to go home and catch a couple of hours? I can watch
him.”

He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “Not yet.”
“Has his father been in to see him?”
Dane nodded. “Yep. They wheeled him in here earlier. I think maybe Dane’s father

is starting to see the light. I’m not sure if he’ll get custody of the boy when the time
comes, but maybe they can establish a better relationship.” Craig shrugged his sore
shoulders. A wave of exhaustion threatened, but he battled it back.

She smiled, her lips tinted with gloss, her warm, clean scent reminding him of better

times. She handed over two granola bars. “I pilfered two energy bars while I was at your
place.”

“You think of everything.” He tried a half smile but knew it was fake as hell. He tore

open on energy bar and took a bite. His stomach growled. Maybe he was hungrier than he
thought.

“Oh.” She rummaged in the bag once more. “Your key.”
He stared at the key, then shook his head. “Keep it.”
Right now he couldn’t think of anything more to say, why he wanted her to keep it,

but it felt right.

Her mouth opened, those soft lips he’d had the pleasure of tasting on the verge of

saying something important. Instead she clamped her mouth shut and tucked the key
away in her tote bag.

Did she look mad? No. Bewildered? Maybe a little. His cop-meter detected sincere

surprise in her expression. He cataloged it for later.

She turned to Craig. “Why don’t you go home and get a couple of hours of rest? I’ll

stay with him. You really should rest. You’re not invincible, you know.”

He gave her a half smile. “I’m not?”
She returned his grin with one of her own. “No. And if you get sick you won’t be

able to attend the wedding. We can’t have that. I still need your help.”

His mind spun around the idea of a happy event like Mick and Celeste’s wedding

Saturday. Two days away. How did he wrap his mind around it when the horrible events
of this morning still demanded attention?

“Let’s not think about the wedding right now,” she said. “Let’s just make it through

today.”

He sighed. “You’re a smart lady, Leigh.”
She laughed gently. “The first day I met you I never could have imagined you saying

that to me.”

“That was a long time ago, and I’ve always thought you’re wonderful.”
She beamed. “Thank you.”
Craig smiled, but he ached for a bed, to sink into the mattress and forget the world

for a couple of hours. Hell, days. The other part wouldn’t rest until he knew Dane was
awake.

As if the boy could read Craig’s mind, Dane stirred and groaned. “I didn’t mean to

hurt anyone. Not really. I shouldn’t have done it.”

Craig took one side of the bed and Leigh the other. Craig leaned down, hoping the

boy would hear him. “Hey, Dane. Can you hear me?”

Dane’s eyes popped open, his eyes blurry with sleep and drugs. They cleared in a

second flat. “Uh…” Dane licked his lips. “I’m…sorry…I betrayed…you. Stupidest thing
I’ve ever done.”

Emotions boiled inside Craig with hot intensity. He fought them back. “It’s over

now. You’re safe, Dane.”

“Boozer?” the boy rasped the question.
Craig swallowed hard. “Dead.”
Relief or something close to it spread over Dane’s face. “I was angry…wanted to

hurt you. Boozer went too far. He was a fuckin’ bastard.” Tears spilled over the boy’s
eyelids. “I’m sorry. Sorry.”

Craig took the kid’s hand and Leigh the other. “Don’t think about that right now,

okay? I forgive you. Just concentrate on getting well. That’s all that matters.”

“They’ll throw me in jail after this,” Dane said, his voice shaking.
Craig lowered his voice, inserted as much gentleness as he could. “None of that

matters right this minute. I’ll help you through it. You saved my life Dane. You took a
bullet for me. That’ll go a long way with the judge.”

Dane’s eyes cleared, became more focused. “Really?”
“Really,” Craig said softly.
“You’ll help me?” Dane’s question, so full of physical and mental pain, tore at

Dane’s heart.

Chapter Twenty

Leigh sagged onto Craig’s couch much later that evening, glad the hospital had

finally kicked them out. Craig had asked her if she would stay with him tonight, and how
could she refuse? The trauma of the past day had left her jumpy, desiring closeness.
Desiring the understanding of someone who’d been in the situation. A long phone
conversation with Celeste had helped. Celeste had told Leigh they had to stop running
into situations where loaded weapons were on hand.

After they left the hospital, they’d swung by her place to replenish her overnight bag,

and returned to his home moments ago.

Craig had retreated into the bathroom to take a shower, while her low energy level

meant flopping on his bed. She sat up long enough to pry off her shoes and socks. She’d
had a shower at her apartment, but temptation was there to take another, to soap away the
day’s events, the emotions that still threatened to batter her into submission.

When Craig opened the door, steam wafted into the bedroom, and she sat up. Oh,

my. Naked, still beaded with water droplets on his shoulders, his head wet, Craig
resembled a Viking god, a man made as a model for a Greek or Roman statue.

Hell, no. Better than that.
She’d seen plenty of naked men—not because she’d slept with many—but none of

them intrigued her, drew her, made her feel like a wild feminine creature like this man
did. Though she’d seen him naked more than once, this time every sculpted inch drew her
attention like a starving woman. He looked feral. More masculine and strong, if that was
possible, than he had before. Her heart swelled, her body reacting in a purely physical
fashion to the sight of so much delicious male muscle.

“Your turn if you want another shower,” he said softly, as if he could read her mind.
With a smile she entered as he left. Once undressed and under the soothing pound of

the massaging spray, she closed her eyes and savored the experience. She blocked all the
images, the rampant blood and shouting and those horrible minutes toward the end of the
siege. No. Now was a sweet, warm opportunity to bask in what was. Here. Now. Forget
pain, forget suffering. She allowed the water to cascade and bubble and froth away her
cares.

Finally she left the shower and toweled off, and like Craig, came out of the bathroom

naked and free. The water had cleansed away that icky feeling, but also the clinging
stench of fear.

Craig lay in bed with the covers drawn over his legs but not covering the rest of what

made him all male and exciting. His cock, nestled in dark hair between his rock hard
thighs, drew her attention like a magnet. She didn’t think she’d have energy for such
thoughts, for sex. Instead sexual need pulsed, demanded attention. Suddenly his body
seemed as mysterious and tempting as a forbidden fruit.

“I could have lost you today,” he said, his eyes closed. “And if I had, it would have

torn me apart.”

She slipped under the covers and propped up on one elbow to look down upon him.

His sudden declaration surprised and flattered her. Stunned her, more like it. Here was
reserved, closed-up Craig MacGilvary declaring yet again how much he cared for her.

Knowing that it took a lot for him to express such thoughts, she felt humbled. Cherished
in a way she never would have expected just a month ago. Mouth dry, heartbeat
quickening, she stayed silent and fearful. Fearful this must be a dream.

Her other hand went to his chest and felt the power there, his strong heartbeat.

“When you defied Boozer, when he had you up there at the front of the restaurant and he
told Dane he had to kill you…shit.”

How did she say this without breaking down? Her eyes watered, tears falling though

she tried to stop them.

Craig’s eyes opened, and the sincerity she saw there blew her away. He reached out

drew her to his chest so she sprawled across the length of his powerful body. Tension
spilled over, and she released it with soft sobs.

Her tears dampened his chest, and she felt guilty about that, too. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” His voice was so soft, so tender. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” She gulped, and the tears fell.
“It’s all right. Just let it out.” The tenderness in his voice drew her pain away, drew

away the agony of what could have happened.

For a long time they stayed silent, wrapped in solace. She absorbed his extraordinary

tenderness and allowed it to soothe the soreness in her heart, to cleanse the violence she’d
seen.

His fingers tangled in her hair as he drew a lock to his nose. She leaned up on one

elbow so she could see his face, and tears dried on her cheeks.

“While I was up there with his weapon pointed at my back, I thought about you,” he

said. “That as long as you were safe nothing else mattered. I wanted to live, but more
than that I knew if I died I couldn’t protect you. While we were in that damned situation,
I realized that it wasn’t enough to try and get everyone out safe. It was only enough if
you were safe. Having you in the situation messed with my head.”

Trembling, she allowed emotions she’d stifled all day to spill loose. “Everything I

thought stood between us means nothing, Craig. I tried too damn long to deny I was
attracted to you. Then I tried to sabotage my relationship with you by comparing you to
my ex. Stupid. All of it stupid.” She kissed his nose. “Forgive me.”

He shook his head. “Nothing to forgive. I’ve been an idiot.” He drew her head down

to press a soft kiss to her lips. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve stopped fighting it.
While we were in that restaurant it came clear to me. I’ve been denying myself happiness
by keeping so closed-minded. By thinking I didn’t need anyone. Now I know I do.” His
voice went lower, deeper with sensual meaning. “I love you.”

Leigh laughed through a sob. “Oh, Craig.” He grinned, and her heart turned over

once more. “I love you, too.”

She kissed him fiercely, showing with her body that she meant every word. As his

tongue thrust deep into her mouth, she slid her body over his. She cradled the hard length
of his cock between her thighs, and the sweet ache there demanded fulfillment. She
gloried in his hardness, the powerful muscles under her touch. She couldn’t get enough of
touching him, exploring until he panted.

She should be tired, but the energy crackling through her wanted release

immediately, as if it would drift away and be lost forever if she didn’t take it now.

Craig explored her back, kneading, caressing. His fingers cupped her ass and held

her tight against his arousal. With one swift move, he rolled them over. Propping up on

his elbows, he started a methodical exploration that left no surface untouched. His tongue
swirled over her nipples, tightening them into buds that ached and burned for more. He
suckled, stroked the tips again and again until she gasped and writhed. He teased as he
swirled his tongue over her nipples until the tips stayed hard and swollen with desire.

Pleasure spiked as he worked his way down her body, feasting with sweetly gentle

caresses and demanding kisses. Her skin burned with a heat she hadn’t felt before, and
she recognized it as unquenched desire. Craig settled between her thighs, and his tongue
painted a hot trail between her vaginal lips. She gasped, arched as he thumbed her clit,
smoothing her arousal over excited flesh. His tongue speared deep, French kissing as he
started a rhythm she didn’t want him to stop. She panted, moaned, and released herself to
his care. His tongue fluttered over her clit, and her body trembled as orgasm threatened.

Before she could say or do anything, he slipped two fingers deep into her well and

stroked. Oh, sweet heaven. The steady stroke of his thick fingers sent firecrackers of
desire dancing and sparking within. The joy of knowing abandon, of feeling ecstasy with
him shook her to her foundation.

His lips sealed over her clit and suckled. Climax beckoned like a firestorm’s

approach, pulsations building, heating and rising, small muscles clenching over his
fingers until…sweet eruption.

She gasped loudly in surrender, riding out the overwhelming sensation. He left her

only long enough to retrieve a condom, slip it on, and settle his body over hers. As he
lowered his hips between her thighs, his power sent wild, feminine thrills all over her
body. Powerful thighs parted hers, the tip of his penis teasing her clit with gentle brushes
that promised to send her skyrocketing out of control before they could join as one.
Tenderness awakened more feelings, more sensations. She longed for him, but this time
with a new urgency, a sense that they’d been granted a second chance.

“I need you now,” he said raggedly, voice deep with unspent passion.
She lifted her hips, begging him with her body. An ache building inside her

demanded fulfillment. She reached between them and placed the tip of his hardness
between her aroused folds.

He groaned softly, and with one smooth, steady thrust he plunged straight to her

core. As his thickness spread her open, caressing sensitive, highly aroused tissues, she
groaned in sheer delight.

“Mine.” He almost growled under his breath. “You’re mine.”
His eyes, simmering with undeniable desire, stared straight into hers. She clutched at

his shoulders, holding on as he thrust slow and sure, his pace so exquisite Leigh thought
she’d never find her breath again. His possessiveness stoked her, sending the raging
firestorm inside her higher and higher. She urged him on as she tilted her hips, matching
his pace. Deep within his cock found a special spot and stroked, oh, God, stroked until
Leigh thought she’d go insane with desire. Heat spiraled higher, demanding a release.
Long, hot, silken strokes caressed her inside until a hot, delicious orgasm hovered just out
of reach. She clutched at his shoulders, squirmed in his hold. His lips locked over one
nipple and sucked strongly.

“Oh!” Her cry of excitement echoed the heat that threatened to send her over the

edge.

“Mine,” he growled the word, his thrusts picking up force and speed.
His primitive declaration fueled her desire, yanking her straight to the top with

stunning, heightened arousal. As his hips powered deep with hard, penetrating thrusts,
she came unglued. Before she could climax he pulled out.

“Turn over,” he said. “On your knees.”
Delighted, but still aching with pure need, she quickly did as requested.
As he drew her back against him, his cock a teasing blade along her buttocks, he

whispered in her ear. “God, I love you.”

And with a hot, sweet slide, he plunged his cock straight and true to her cervix. He

pushed, his thickness spreading her wide. She gasped, she squirmed, she thrust back
against him.

Orgasm slammed her without mercy, arching her into his body as a scream released.

Craig had never known such pleasure, such overwhelming desire to possess a

woman. As he sank deep into her body again and again, the primitive position set him
off, turned him into a sexual madman. Her flesh trembled, milked him, and the feeling of
her orgasm pleased him physically and mentally. God, he loved making her feel like this.

Everything about Leigh drove him toward the finish. Her skin, so soft and beautiful,

the way her hair tossed back and forth as she lunged into each thrust. Her musky, female
arousal a perfume he couldn’t resist, he savored the sensation of sliding back and forth in
her creamy passage. Her tight heat constricted, grabbing him, caressing as she trembled
and quaked with powerful orgasm.

Pleased, he growled, primal awareness driving him to heights he didn’t expect. He

reached to touch her soft pussy, found her clit hard and slick with her juices. He circled,
caressed, and she came again.

Unable to hold back any longer, his entire body shook as he came hard. He gasped

and quaked, his breathing heavy as pleasure rocked him to the core.

As they sank to the bed, he drew her into his arms. His mind went blank, easing into

a sexual lethargy he couldn’t resist, and as he held her tightly, he knew without a doubt
he would never love another woman but Leigh Strong. Craig MacGilvary, who thought a
woman could never have this kind of hold on his soul, had fallen hard, fast and forever.
Yet with the precision of a highly trained SWAT officer, he knew what he had to do next.

“Marry me,” he said without hesitation.
Her head jerked up, and in the semi-darkness her eyes shimmered with new tears.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me. I love you.” He never imagined in a million years saying these words,

but he also couldn’t imagine not saying them to her.

Once more her tears spilled over, and his thoughts scattered, moved by her reaction,

afraid. God, please say yes.

“Yes.” Happiness glowed in her eyes and her smile. “I love you so much.”
And she sealed her answer with a kiss.

* * * *

Leigh walked down the red carpeted aisle, her off-the-shoulder, long, satiny emerald

green dress standing out from Olivia’s royal blue. Since Celeste didn’t want a traditional
maid of honor/bridesmaid set up, both Olivia and Leigh were bridesmaids. And Mick
wanted his brothers as equals in the ceremony, and they were both best men.

Craig’s strong arm felt solid and reassuring beneath her fingers as he escorted her

down the aisle. Amid all last minute preparation for today, Craig and Leigh had told their
families they were engaged—but they refused to let the happy announcement take
anything away from today’s wedding. They could celebrate later. For now, simply
knowing they belonged to each other proved enough.

Olivia stood at the front of the room with Trey as well as Mick and the elaborately

garbed Episcopalian official Elizabeth Williams. As the crowd of one hundred watched,
Leigh and Craig separated at the front and walked to their respective areas. Leigh’s heart
pounded. She glanced at the sparkling vintage-design engagement ring on her left hand
and sweet happiness filled her. Craig had insisted that he wanted an engagement ring on
her finger ASAP, and the first jewelry store they entered in Gold Rush had a beautiful
ring guard and engagement ring that Leigh loved.

She turned her attention back to the events at hand. She was here to witness her

friend Celeste marry the man of her dreams, and within that happiness she’d found a man
she wanted to love and cherish all the rest of her days. She couldn’t remember a more
glorious time.

The beautiful church, resplendent with stained glass, showcased the elegant but

simple ceremony. Leigh wanted a wedding like this—God she couldn’t believe she’d
come to this point. Yeah, but falling in love with Craig MacGilvary had changed her
thoughts on marriage.

As the music changed and Celeste walked down the aisle in her stunning white off-

the-shoulder dress, Leigh witnessed the bliss on her friend’s face and knew she wanted a
day like this for herself. One where she could publicly declare her love for Craig.

She glanced across at Craig and found his gaze locked on her, a gentle and teasing

smile on his mouth. A second later they politely returned their attention to the bride. The
reverent ceremony continued, and when Celeste and Mick declared their love, Leigh
caught Craig’s intense stare caressing her. She loved him so much it hurt. She couldn’t
wait to have a dance with him at the reception.

Her thoughts flicked unexpectedly to Dane. He would remain in the hospital for

several more days in recovery, and he faced an uncertain future with time in juvenile hall
for his part in gang-related activities and the hostage situation. It would be a long, hard
road, but Leigh and Craig had committed to helping the boy any way they could.

Once the ceremony finished, Celeste and Mick took a limo to the reception at hotel.

Craig, Leigh, Trey and Olivia piled in Trey’s car. The reception began with Celeste and
Mick entering and the disc jockey playing an introductory song.

After the bride and groom danced, they skipped the traditional groomsmen and

bridesmaids dance and invited everyone to participate. Soon the dance floor filled with
guests.

Not long after, Mick and Celeste did an unexpected thing. As they sat at the bride

and groom table, they made an announcement.

“I want to thank my brothers, Trey and Craig for their help, but especially Craig and

Leigh for their invaluable assistance,” Mick said.

“But we also have an announcement to make to everyone,” Celeste said. “A toast to

Craig and Leigh on their engagement.”

Leigh’s cheeks flushed, and while she wasn’t surprised they’d made this

announcement, she was gratified when Craig took her hand and lifted it to his lips in a
salute.

After the cheering crowd died down, the music began again.
“May I have this dance?” Craig asked Leigh as he took Leigh’s hand and kissed her

fingers again.

She couldn’t resist smiling, her whole heart full. “Absolutely.”
Gorgeous. Craig looked devastating in his black tux and green cummerbund. His

eyes smiled down into hers as his arm went around her waist.

As they glided around the dance floor, Craig waltzed her right through the patio

doors and into the seclusion of an alcove. Cool night air brushed over their skin, the heat
wave that burdened the area for so many long weeks now only a memory.

“You’re trapped.” Craig pinned her to the cool stone wall, his arms protecting her.

“What should I do with you?”

She winked. “I don’t know officer, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.

Handcuffs? I’m a real handful.”

His palms drifted down to her butt, where he squeezed her flesh and pulled her hips

into his. “That’s for damn sure. Considering resisting arrest?”

She slipped her hands along his collar and tilted her head so she could slant a look at

him. “I’m planning to do my worst. Resist arrest.” She teased his earlobe with her index
finger. “Possibly even incite a riot. What are you going to do about it?”

“You heard my brother. Marry you.”
She grinned. “Oh, that’s right. Suitable punishment.”
He groaned as he brought her closer. “Baby, if this is punishment, I’ll take it for the

rest of my life.”

The End

With This Kiss

And now, a special Heart of Justice short story featuring El Torro SWAT team

member Ian Duffy.

Chapter One

On the fourth anniversary of one of the worst days of Pam Gilliard’s life, she

wondered if today could be her lucky day.

Pam shifted in her booth seat and hoped the man would appear at the Gold Rush

Grill again.

Not likely. That would be too weird by half.
Country music twanged over the speakers. The scent of fried food and alcohol

touched her senses. Voices raised above the din, mingling and colluding.

Then the impossible happened.
He entered the grill again.
The big man striding into the restaurant owned all the hallmarks of a kick-ass-and-

take-names dude. Tall, tough, and lethal. If all he’d been was a brute with an arrogant
stride, she could have ignored him. No such luck with Lieutenant Ian Duffy, badge
number 888, member of the El Torro County Sheriff’s Department and crack SWAT
team member. This man served as a living, breathing reminder of tragedy, of heartbreak
that had taken so long to heal. That is, if it ever would.

“Damn,” she said softly.
Pam’s friend Careena Tweedsdale, who sat across from her in the booth, cleared her

throat. Careena pushed her square, fashionable glasses back onto the bridge of her nose.
Her bright periwinkle blue eyes appeared owlish behind the glasses, a well-deserved
studious expression mixed with a kind, amused smile. Careena’s thin, elegant hands,
long-fingered and tipped with blood-red nails, tapped the side of her chardonnay glass.

She smiled with scarlet red lips that tempted men to venture beyond the librarian-like

façade. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s here. Again.” Pam swallowed hard. Seeing him around Gold Rush, Colorado

so often in a week made her head spin. While the town wasn’t small, it also wasn’t large.
Each time she’d seen him, she’d almost walked up and said hello. Instead she’d
chickened out.

“Coincidence.” Careena sipped her wine and winced as the sound system squealed

and a pop tune by a one-hit wonder added background to the already loud restaurant.

Pam’s headache, an annoying throb in her temples, fired to life. “I don’t believe in

coincidence. It’s just too weird he’s been in here night after night.”

“Any stranger than us coming in here night after night?”
“No. No, it isn’t.”
When Pam winced at the pain in her head, Careena frowned. “You okay?”
“Headache.” The sparkling water in front of her, mixed with the aspirin she’d just

taken, should make her feel better shortly. She hoped.

“You look pale.”

Pam smiled. “Remember, I’m always pale.”
Careena’s eyes held wisdom and good humor. “True.” She sighed. “Sure you want to

do this? I mean, what if he’s a real creep? One of those guys who uses his power and
authority to push people around?”

What if? “Then I guess the thank you will go unappreciated, and he’ll tell me to go

blow.” She shrugged and took a sip of water. “If he’s a creep I won’t feel so bad about
taking four years to do this.”

She hoped the man she’d heard so much about wouldn’t be like that, but there was

no guarantee, was there?

“I’ve got to do this.” Pam tucked her hair behind her ears. “I have to.”
Careena fiddled with the sleeve of her slightly worn brown cable sweater. The dark

knit contrasted sharply with her creamy peach skin. “Are you sure? No one would blame
you if you didn’t.”

Pam sighed again with a weariness that refused to abate. Her friend’s assertion didn’t

sidetrack Pam’s uneasy feeling as she watched the law enforcement officer follow the
hostess toward an empty table. “I’ve spent four years wasting my time.”

“It took that long to talk it out.”
Pam tucked hair behind both her ears. “It took that long to realize I was avoiding

dealing with my issues.”

She glanced at the tall man again. No matter how much she wanted to ignore his

extraordinary male sensuality, she couldn’t.

Careena smiled. “He’s hot.”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t wear a uniform tonight, yet she’d have known him anywhere. As he

walked, power and confidence radiated from him. His broad shoulders were encased in a
thick ivory fisherman’s sweater and black jeans outlined strong legs. His thick black hair
was military short. His jaw, handsomely shaped, and his aristocratic nose shaped up to
one mouth-watering male. Almost savagely handsome, as a matter of fact, a pirate in
civilized veneer.

Okay, maybe he had changed. Four years ago he’d been in his late twenties. At over

thirty, he now had the gravity of a man who knew his place in the world.

No man this incredible could enter a room without women noticing him. Several

women did ogle the over six feet of finely-honed cop. He stopped by one table with two
pretty young women, and cracked a dazzling smile that transformed his hard-ass look to
gentle and charming. Pam reacted to that smile, and didn’t want to like it. He chatted with
the women for a second and moved onward.

With an approximate population of thirty thousand, Gold Rush, Colorado was small

enough for people to know him and the El Torro County Sheriff’s department SWAT had
a solid and exemplary reputation.

Pam understood that.
And she wanted to forgive the cop who’d killed her brother four years ago.
“Now’s the time.” Pam slid from the booth, stood, and looped her black purse over

her shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

Careena smiled. “I’ll be here until I get the signal it’s okay to leave.”
Pam nodded, returned her friend’s smile, and headed toward the table where

Lieutenant Duffy sat alone. Her breath started to shorten, every weakness she possessed

threatening to overcome her. Come on, Pam. Now is the time. Do it. Do it. She turned a
corner and targeted his booth, her breath short as her steps quickened. She dodged a
waitress carrying a tray of drinks. As she approached his booth, he looked up, and even
from this distance she couldn’t miss the dark intensity of his stare, or the sensual
awareness that warmed her belly.

When their eyes met, he added that smile to the mix, and the heat inside her

blossomed. Oh, no. No. Being attracted to him on top of all this…no, it was too twisted.

She stopped at the booth. “Hi.”
“Hey.” His voice rumbled, silk-and-velvet that sent sparklers dancing through her

belly. Curiosity filled his eyes, along with a friendliness she didn’t expect.

“I’m sorry to bother you, and you probably don’t remember me…but I’m Pam

Gilliard.” She swallowed hard, her heart racing once more, her throat tight. “Four years
ago you…you saved my life.”

Holy shit.
Ian’s second thought followed closely on the first. Has she come to tell me I’m the

biggest scum in the universe? To spit on me?

Pam Gilliard had changed…a lot. All of it for the better. When he’d first seen her

walking toward him down the long path between the booths, his body had acted like a
man just back from a desert deployment or a dozen years in a jungle with no women in
sight. Raw male appreciation had punched his gut.

Her face was heart-shaped, angelic almost. Long blonde hair flowed around her

shoulders in a straight silvery cascade almost to her waist. Her skin was pale except for
her cheeks flush with the barest color, and eyes a blue so light they reminded him of an
icy pond in back of his parent’s ranch near Leadville. A dark red turtleneck sweater
skimmed along full breasts and a black leather jacket nipped in at the waist. Belted, low-
rise jeans made love to her hips and legs and ended in a trendy flair over the top of flat-
heeled black boots. She appeared impossibly young, too innocently pretty to face
anything tragic or dramatic. But those eyes held a haunted, deep beauty that captured his
attention so much he couldn’t look away.

Yet within all that stunning beauty, he saw vulnerability—a stark, almost doe-like

fragility that immediately made him afraid. Afraid he’d say the wrong thing. Afraid she
was an illusion and would disappear if he blinked.

He held out his hand to shake her slender palm and long fingers. “I recognize you

now. How are you?”

A smile flitted across her mouth, but quickly escaped. “I’m good. You?”
Fantastic now that you’re standing here. God, get a friggin’ grip, Duffy. “Good. You

living in Gold Rush now?”

She shook her head. “I’m here on a week’s vacation visiting a friend.” Good, that

explains why she is vacationing in Gold Rush.

Her voice matched her, too. Delicate. Fairy friggin’ princess. Certain she had to be a

dream, a figment of his imagination, he waited for a tell-tale giveaway that would prove a
woman this pretty couldn’t be as nice.

“Have a seat,” he said, hoping she would. Craving that she would.
You’re sick, Duffy. How can you be lusting after a woman you just met…especially

this particular woman?

She glanced around, almost nervous in her movements. “Uh…you’re alone?”
Alone. Yeah, I’m feeling my aloneness too damn much lately. “Yep. I like to come in

here sometimes and enjoy a meal by myself.”

“Oh…”
Curiosity motivated him now. “Please, sit down.”
Yeah, sport. And your Johnson is doing the thinking. Use your brain, man.
She complied, sliding into the booth.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Like clockwork, his waitress brought him strong black coffee, and took his dinner

order of burger and fries. When the waitress left, Pam shot him a tentative smile.

Pam Gilliard. Back in Gold Rush and sitting right across from him. Who would have

guessed? Sure as hell not him. Suspicion rose along with sympathy. Four years hadn’t
diminished his memory of one terrible night.

The snow angel, as he’d started to think of her, kept her gaze steady on him. The cop

in him wanted to bombard her with questions. What are you doing here? Why would you
want to say hello?

“Where have you been all these years?” he asked instead.
“Denver. I went to DU. I’m a message therapist.”
Damn, a massage by a beautiful woman sounded good right about now. His body

reacted, warming in dangerous places. His groin ached, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Excellent. Are you thinking of moving to Gold Rush?”

She shook her head, and that shimmering silvery blonde hair moved like a wave.

“No. I…”

He waited.
He saw something in her eyes he couldn’t identify. She leaned her forearms on the

table, and he noted the sparkling blue stone in the ring on her right hand. It matches her
eyes.

“I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“What you did four years ago.”
She wanted to thank him? Why? Pam’s gaze, as intent and mysterious as a wolf,

pinned him in the booth. He couldn’t escape and didn’t want to.

His mouth went as dry as a desert, and a sip of coffee didn’t help. “That’s unusual.

You didn’t speak to me four years ago after the…after what happened to your brother.
After I had to…” The words were tough as shoe leather to chew and as tough to swallow.
“Kill your brother.” Pain flitted through her eyes and disappeared. Damn it. He didn’t
want to cause her more pain. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry. I—”

“No.” She held up one small hand. “No, it’s all right. That’s what I wanted to talk to

you about.”

Ian watched her, curiosity and caution on full alert. “Okay.”
She clasped the paper napkin from her place setting and twisted it, fingers plucking

and wrinkling the paper. “This has been hard. I don’t know where to start.”

Restaurant sounds, the chattering, the music, all faded to the background. “At the

beginning, maybe?”

She nodded. “I was only twenty-two when my brother had his breakdown.” She

smiled, then made a soft noise of disbelief. “That’s what my parents keep calling it, but
breakdown isn’t the right word. Anyway, I was just plain scared out of my mind
when…after the incident. I needed time to think things over. To understand why I was
having such a hard time coming to terms with his death.”

“He was your brother.” Brother. “Of course you’d grieve.”
She shook her head. “Not…him. Not Edward.” Pam shrugged. “He didn’t inspire

love in me. In fact, I could barely stand him.” She looked up at Ian, a touch of the
defensive in the mouth and eyes. “That sounds awful, I know.” She slid to the end of the
booth seat. “Anyway, I wanted to thank for what you did. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t
for you.”

She stood.
“Wait,” he said. “Stay.”
“I can’t. My friend Careena is waiting for me. Goodbye, Lieutenant Duffy.”
“Ian.”
A hint of a brilliant smile touched her lips. Pretty lips that inflamed blatant arousal

until it burned in his belly. “Ian.”

She left before he could think of a good excuse to ask her again to stay.

Chapter Two

The next morning Pam wondered if her short conversation with the handsome deputy

had been a dream. As she walked through the rented condo that served as her vacation
retreat for three more days, she didn’t expect the phone to ring.

She reached for it, wondering if Careena was calling. “Hello?”
“Pam?” A man’s low, husky voice asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Ian Duffy.”
Her pulse leapt, a cross between alarm and strange excitement. “Oh, hello.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. Look, I know this is going to sound strange, but I need…I want to talk to you

about what happened with your brother.”

Surprise locked her jaw.
When she stayed silent, he said, “I know it’s a painful subject. It is for me, too.

It’s…it’s not something a cop ever forgets, you know? El Torro County is a big place,
and yet we don’t get many call-outs for SWAT. And when we have to use lethal
force…none of us wants to, even if we’re prepared for it.”

The softness in his deep voice surprised her, continued to take her off guard. But she

managed to find the words. “I…yes. I’ll talk about it.”

“In person?”
Oh. That was another thing she didn’t expect. “Where?”
“Neutral ground, of course. I don’t want you to feel intimidated.”
Nerves that had fired into life at the first sound of his voice began to calm. Was there

any place she could be with him where she wouldn’t feel intimidated?

“All right. Where?”
“How about a different restaurant this time? Do you know the main restaurant in the

Dublin Hotel? Forina’s?”

“No.”
“It’s not too pricey, but the food is good.”
“All right. I’ll meet you at 6:30 if you have time then.”
After he gave her directions and promised to make reservations, they hung up. Her

nerves pinged and popped until Pam realized she’d wrapped her arms tight against her
body like a shield. She inhaled deeply to ease tension, oxygen smoothing the jitters. Ian
Duffy’s desire to rehash the situation with Edward puzzled her and yet it didn’t. Her
curiosity had assured that she’d agree to a meeting.

Though she spent time with Careena in her photography studio, Pam couldn’t keep

her mind off the impending meeting with Ian. When Pam left Careena’s house, she made
sure to give herself plenty of time before she needed to meet Ian. Always a cautious sort,
she arrived early everywhere. To get the lay of the land, she supposed.

After parking on the street not far from the hotel on Main Street, she buttoned her

black leather blazer to the neck. No need to freeze—there was a November nip in the air
that swirled through her hair and danced down her neck. Nerves bounced in her stomach.

She took a deep breath and left the car.

Get a hold of yourself. You want to talk to him.
She did. Excitement had at least as much to do with her feelings as did fear. She

returned her attention to the building.

She could see from the architecture the building had been erected at the end of the

Victorian era or perhaps a few years into the Edwardian. She stopped on the sidewalk
where a few people passed by and some entered the hotel. She noted the mansard roofline
five stories up. A half a block long, the building had significant mass in its red brick. She
entered, even though proverbial butterflies danced in her stomach.

As she entered the hotel, she saw the building glittered with antiques, the low light

ambiance from twinkling crystal chandeliers. Scents mingled. Some sort of lemon polish
and delicious roast beef.

A young hostess dressed in Victorian period costume led her through the busy

restaurant to Ian’s table, a booth far in the back and as private as they could get. The
intimacy of the table made her wonder if he’d specifically asked for the booth. Ian looked
up from his menu as she arrived, his smile almost a ghost. He appeared worried and tired,
nothing like he had last night.

After the waiter zipped by to take their drink orders, and Ian’s request for a spinach

dip appetizer, she unbuttoned her blazer and placed it on the seat beside her purse. Her
lightly woven sweater felt warm enough in the restaurant.

Tonight Ian wore a fine knit red sweater, and the material fit intimately along defined

muscles. Her libido took notice once more.

The man is sinful. Wicked gorgeous in a rough-and-tumble way.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Of course.” She looked down at her mother’s ring on her left hand, a nervous

gesture she did far too often.

“Pretty ring. Is that topaz?”
She looked up at him, surprised. “London blue. I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Why?”
“Most men I’ve met don’t know much about jewelry.”
A dark, sad emotion flashed through his eyes. “My wife…she was a jeweler in

Denver.”

“Was?”
He swallowed hard. “Jane died five years ago. We’d moved to Gold Rush seven

years ago, but she kept the shop going in Denver. She stayed there most of the week, then
came to Gold Rush on the weekends.”

Hmm. Interesting.
Startled by the information, though she couldn’t say why, she pushed forward with a

response. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He nodded. “She was a wonderful woman. I really miss her.”
The genuine sadness in his eyes touched her. Tears filled her eyes for a moment, and

she looked away.

His coffee came and so did her red wine. As they sipped, she worried their

conversation would trail off into oblivion.

“Is the topaz an engagement ring?” he asked.
She dabbed at her mouth with the napkin. “No.”

“Yet you wear it on that hand.”
She smiled, half-amused. “Is that illegal?”
He grinned. “Hell no. I was thinking of my sister. She wears this honker of a fake

wedding set on her left hand. She travels extensively for her work, and out comes the
ring. She tells me it keeps men away.”

“That’s not my intention.”
“You sure?” His skeptical, sideways glance reminded her that Ian had law

enforcement instincts.

She shrugged. “Maybe. Men do hit on me a lot. My mother tells me it’s not just my

personality, but my hair.”

He laughed. “It’s beautiful hair. Unusually long.”
She chewed her bottom lip a second. “Thank you. I suppose I should cut it.”
“Why? If you don’t want to, don’t.”
His matter-of-fact statement gave her pause, then she nodded. “You’re right.” A few

seconds later, she decided she’d danced around her number one question long enough.
“Why did you invite me here?”

He leaned back in the booth, eyes pinned on her as if he planned interrogation. “I

have ulterior motives. When you left the restaurant the other night, I knew we still needed
to keep talking. That’s why I didn’t want you to leave.”

Their appetizer came, and her stomach ached with hunger. She hadn’t eaten enough

today. The spinach dip was served in one of those bread bowls, and they dunked various
veggies into the treat. As she crunched on a carrot, she continued her observation of Ian.
He had beautiful hands for a man. Large but well-proportioned. They looked well capable
of handling a weapon, but they weren’t scarred. For a wild second she imagined them
coasting up her legs, parting her thighs—

Oh. Her belly fluttered, a low, sweet sensation she couldn’t deny. Heat rose from her

center and straight into her face. She couldn’t afford to pant after him, but her body
reacted anyway.

“What else is there to talk about?” she asked, hating the suspense.
“I wanted you to know a few things before you left town.”
She continued nibbling on the appetizer. “All right.”
“I understand your grief.”
Pam chewed slowly as old pain came from nowhere. “How could you? My brother

was…until he was seventeen, I hero-worshipped him. He was the nicest kid ever. Then
that damn schizophrenia took away the boy we all knew. After that he was one of the
most mean, verbally abusive people I knew.” She clenched a fist under the table. “If he’d
just stayed on his medication…”

“I know.”
Two simple words, and yet somehow she knew he did understand.
Ian pushed aside his appetizer plate. His gaze latched on to hers, tangled and held.

Secrets dwelled in those extraordinary eyes and she found she ached to know them.
“Remember the sniper shootings in Denver a few years back?”

She nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “I remember.”
“As I mentioned, my wife owned a jewelry store. It was on the street where Brewer

started taking pot shots.”

“Oh, God.” She thought she knew where this would lead, but she didn’t dare speak

more than two words. Couldn’t speak as his story unfolded.

His voice went tight. “Carol had that store for two years. She was so proud of her

creations. She made beautiful jewelry.”

Pam I didn’t want to hear any more. The horror rose as did the tension inside her.
“She used to make one-of-a-kind pieces of jewelry,” Ian said.
“How did you meet her?”
Ian ran a hand through his hair. “Online dating.”
Her eyebrows went up, and she smiled. “I tried that once and it didn’t work for me,

but I know two couples who found each other that way and it’s a success. My parents tell
me I’m too picky.”

“Are you?”
She shrugged. “I know what I want—what I need. I haven’t found it yet.”
Their salads came, and they paused long enough to add dressing and dig into the

greens.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You were trying to explain about your wife.”
Pain knifed across his face, but it vanished quickly. “She was coming out of her shop

the day Hanford Brewer started shooting off the Mirand Building. He hit her in the head.
A clean shot. Just like a trained sniper should.”

Pam’s fork stopped half way to her mouth and stayed there. “Oh, no. I’m…that’s

awful.”

His face went stone cool, as if he’d blocked images of blood and death. “My only

consolation is that I’m a sniper, and I know the shot. She didn’t suffer. Not one bit.”

Horrified, Pam’s grief over her brother magnified. It must have shown on her face,

because he placed his hand over hers. She lowered her other hand so her fork landed on
the plate.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was…I wasn’t thinking about…”
She understood without more words what he meant. The heat of his hand over Pam’s

sent warm comfort straight through her, lessening memories of her brother’s demise.

She slowly drew her hand from under his. “No. I asked. It makes sense to me now,

what you said earlier. About understanding how I feel.”

Before he could comment, her salmon dinner came, and so did his steak. They ate in

silence for some time. When they returned to conversation, they steered clear of dark
subjects. He told her about growing up in Leadville, and she reminisced about her
childhood enjoyment of the great outdoors. They discovered a mutual love for hiking and
skiing, and realized they both loved action adventure movies.

They continued through dinner and skipped dessert. The check came, and she

reached for it the same time he did. Their fingers brushed, and a tingle shot through her
hand.

“We’re not done talking.” His fingers squeezed hers lightly. “How much longer are

you in Gold Rush?”

“Two more days.” Her breath caught.
“Spend time with me. I’d like you to meet some friends of mine. They’re having a

party tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

Pam drove her rental sedan to the address Ian had given her, and her stomach tossed

with nerves. Maybe this is a bad idea. She’d agreed to meet Ian at his friend Trey’s
house, a fellow SWAT team member. According to Ian, Trey had two brothers also on
the SWAT team. All that macho in one place, Pam? Can you handle it? She didn’t know
how she’d feel being around so many SWAT guys, but decided she’d find out. She
needed to be braver than this.

Late fall leaves blew over the road. It had been a cold November so far, and snow

covered the surrounding high Rocky Mountains near Gold Rush. She loved this time of
year.

She arrived at the pretty home, a new development on the edge of town. She perused

the two story stucco with a burnt red tile roof. It looked modest and comfortable, new
saplings planted in the front yard. Homey. A sweet yearning drew her from the vehicle. A
few cars already lined the street. Nerves pinged inside her like an out-of-control
fireworks explosion. Did she want to enter Ian’s world this deeply and intimately? After
tonight, after this party, she had one more evening in town before returning to Denver,
her job, and her real life. No, this place wasn’t real for her unless she counted the strong
attraction building between her and Ian.

This thing between them felt strong and hot. She knew Ian was attracted to her, but

she couldn’t let this go too far.

What if I want more of him than I can have? It’s just a party. Come on.
She left the car and slung her handbag strap over her shoulder. A lovely flagstone

and river rock path led to the double doors. She rang the doorbell, and the door opened
almost immediately. Laughter flowed outside at the same time a pretty young woman
with a doll delicacy and a flow of chocolate hair that flowed about her shoulders. She
wore a blue turtleneck sweater and slim-fitting jeans.

“Hi. I’m Pam Gilliard,” Pam said with a smile. “Ian’s friend.”
The woman introduced herself as Olivia, her English accent crisp and friendly. Her

expression filled with a mirth and kindness Pam instantly trusted. She stepped back and
allowed Pam to enter. “It’s nice to meet you. Please come in.”

Her husband, Trey, wandered up to the door and introduced himself. SWAT seemed

to specialize in rough, tough, gorgeous men. Trey towered over Olivia, who was still
taller than Pam. Trey had the same kick-ass-and-take-names looks that made him rugged,
good-looking, and self-confident…kindred to Ian. His smile held all the attributes of a
trustworthy and nice man.

Trey and Olivia’s house was a combination of Spanish Colonial touches and Mission

style. Plump, sage green couches looked inviting and comfortable. Delicious smells came
from the kitchen/living room open space.

Trey took her coat and handbag to a back room.
Within seconds of entering Trey and Olivia’s home, Pam found quick welcome from

Mick MacGilvary, his wife Celeste, and Dace Banovic and his wife Mary Wickes-
Banovic.

Mick, like Trey, had a no nonsense look about him in his tall frame, muscular body,

and full head of short, very dark hair. Though he looked like he could kick in doors with
the best of them, he had a ready, friendly smile and warm handshake. Mick’s wife
Celeste possessed a gentle beauty and cautious shyness that Pam could understand. Her
red-gold hair was tied back in a braid. Dace had a distinctive fighter look about him that
said no one could mess with him. His wife Mary wore glasses and her eyes sparkled with
true amusement as Trey stumbled through introductions.

“Ian is downstairs with Kelso and Irene in the basement trying to work the new flat

screen television,” Mary said.

“Good luck with that,” Celeste said from the kitchen as Olivia joined her.
Olivia grinned. “Men.”
Mick grunted as he grabbed a soft drink can from the fridge. “Can we get you

something to drink, Pam?”

Pam shook her head. “No, I’m good for now.”
Mary gestured as she headed toward the basement. “Follow me.” A baby’s wail

came from down the hall. “Oops. Sounds like Danny is awake. I’ve got to get him.”

“I’ll take Pam downstairs,” Olivia said.
Voices resumed among Ian’s friends, and Pam followed the Englishwoman.
Ian crouched next to a large African-American man by a flat screen television just

out of the box. A cocoa-skinned woman stood nearby, smiling at the two men with a look
that spelled pure amusement.

“We’ll get this mounted on the wall. Trey needs to get his butt down here. It’s his

new TV.” The African American man saw her first, and as he rose to his feet, Pam noted
his lean, mean build.

“Hey.” Ian gave Pam a warm and welcoming smile, and it made her tingle in places

that had never tingled before. She turned into melted pudding. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks,” Pam said.
“Kelso, Irene, this is Pam Gilliard,” Olivia said. She made quick introductions.

“Pam, this is Kelso and Irene Johnson. Kelso is with the Sheriff’s Department and a part
of the SWAT team.”

“Trey’s not very technical,” Ian said, “So we’re helping him with this new

television.”

“They’re trying,” Irene said as she placed her hands on her hips. “Trying is the

operative word.” She rolled her eyes. “They’re SWAT. They can do anything.”

It didn’t take long for Pam to mesh with everyone at the intimate gathering. The men

had a dry, police-humor style of wit. The ladies had genuinely warm personalities. She
learned Mick and Trey’s story, how they were adopted by one father and mother but the
boys weren’t related by blood.

As they sat around the dinner table enjoying a casual ala carte Mexican meal, Mick

explained. “We’re mongrels. Craig is our other brother. He’d probably be here tonight,
too, but he’s on a Mexican Rivera honeymoon cruise with Leigh. They were married last
weekend.”

“How did he manage to get so much time off for his honeymoon?” Ian asked as he

handed Pam more taco filling. He sat to her left.

Trey answered with, “Craig accumulated a ton of vacation. He was in the use-it-or-

lose-it category.”

“Will you be in Gold Rush much longer?” Mary asked Pam as she fed young Danny

in his high chair.

Pam shook her head. “One more day. I leave Thursday.”
“Too bad,” Irene said.
Dace took Danny out of his high chair and put him over his shoulder to burp.

“Coming back to visit soon?”

Pam hesitated. “Not that I know of.” She left it hanging there, and wondered if Ian’s

friends had the wrong impression. Did they consider Ian her boyfriend? “I’ve got to
return to my job in Denver.”

Everyone nodded and murmured understanding. She glanced at Ian and his gaze

caught hers. A wariness or uncertainty seemed etched on his features. At least no one
asked personal questions about how she’d met Ian. She supposed he’d explained earlier.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Olivia said, “the apple pie is ready.”
Everyone but Pam erupted into ohs, ahs, and oh yeses.
Pam shook her head as she pushed her plate back. “Oh, no. None for me. I’m

stuffed.”

Ian winked. “Oh, come on. Have a small piece.”
“Olivia is one of the champion pie bakers in town,” Trey said.
Olivia stood and moved to the kitchen island. “I’m a rare commodity.”
Pam sipped her coffee. “Why is that?”
“An Englishwoman who knows how to make American style apple pie isn’t

common. When Trey and I went on holiday to visit my family in England, Trey couldn’t
believe how mad English are about American deserts.”

“Is that bad or good?” Pam asked.
“Both,” Trey said. “The sugar isn’t good for them, of course.”
The topic switched as Pam gave in to a tiny slice of pie.
“Hey, where’s Arlene tonight?” Dace asked.
Ian had explained that Arlene was the MacGilvary brother’s adoptive mother and

Edie was Trey’s Biological mother. After Edie moved back in to town, Arlene and Edie
had become good friends.

“Mom and Arlene went out to see a movie,” Mick said with a frown. “With their

boyfriends.”

“They just met them.” Trey sounded as disturbed as Mick.
Pam might have looked perplexed, because Ian turned to her and said, “It’s

complicated.”

“You’ll get used to it if you hang around the MacGilvary clan for long,” Dace said.
“Life around you guys is complicated?” Pam teased them with a smile.
Trey grunted. “Complicated and chaotic.”
“But in a good way,” Celeste said.
Discomfort built inside Pam. At first she couldn’t understand why. Then she realized

she liked these people a lot. She’d been here around two hours and already she felt a part
of them. A truly scary thought. If she spent more time with them, she’d have to care.
She’d think too much about her short time in Gold Rush.

She knew what to do.
She glanced at her watch. Time to leave. “I need to go. There’s a few things I have to

do before I head out of town in a couple of days.”

Though they all expressed regret she had to leave, they didn’t press her to stay. Ian

offered to walk her out.

Evening descended on the region, the crisp temperature making her shiver.
As they stopped at her car, Ian asked, “What’s your hurry?”
Pam couldn’t ignore his concern. “Like I said, I have errands.”
Despite the cold, he appeared solid and warm in his emerald green sweater, slim

fitting jeans, and cowboy boots. He would look hot in a cowboy hat. A flash of him
naked popped into her head. Or what she imagined he might look like naked. Hard,
muscled, delicious. Keeping carnal thoughts out of her mind with Ian around proved
impossible. Ian came close…very close. His personal space with her decreased the longer
she’d known him, and while having him near unnerved her in a fluttery, feminine way,
she also craved it.

He towered over her. “Something wrong?”
She couldn’t lie. He deserved the truth. “Yes.”
He cupped her shoulders. “What is it?”
The caring reflected in each well-drawn inch of his face made her heart beat double

time. “Your friends are incredible.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand. How is that a problem?”
“You’re incredible, too.”
A slow, mind-melting smile flirted with his mouth. “Thanks, but I still don’t

understand why that’s a problem.”

Her hands settle on his chest, and powerful muscles moved under her touch Heat

throbbed low in her loins. Whether she liked it or not, her body wanted his. “You’re
great, your friends are great, and I have to go back to Denver. Let’s be practical, Ian. We
just met again after four years. We don’t know each other that well. It isn’t…advisable
that we…”

Ian’s frown deepened, his hands coasting over her arms from shoulder to elbow.

“Get involved.”

“We shouldn’t.”
His eyes burned into hers. “Shouldn’t act on our attraction?”
“Oh, man.” She sighed. “Yes, that’s right.”
Ian cupped her face. “There’s nothing wrong with getting to know each other and see

where it leads.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Stupid. Why did you admit that?
Rather than Ian’s features hardening into impatience, his expression turned tender.

Her insides melted at the understanding in his eyes.

“Pam, I understand the fear. You’re the first woman I’ve been this attracted to since

my wife. The whole idea scares the crap out of me. But I’m willing to take the chance.
She wouldn’t want me to stay afraid. I invited you tonight because I care for you, I think
you’re great, and I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted you to see me with my
friends.” He shrugged. “Maybe I was trying to show you that I’m…not an ogre.”

Refreshed by his mature and easy-going outlook, she relaxed somewhat. “You’re

really attracted to me?”

He grinned as he pulled her closer. “You know I am. I’ll show you how much.”
Gently, his lips found hers, then pursued with more enthusiasm as the kiss deepened.

Ian’s kiss held restrained passion, but enough to give her no doubt the desire was mutual.

Chapter Four

Ian opened his fridge and stared inside, then just as quickly closed it. He shouldn’t

feel this jumpy. Last evening’s dinner with Pam had shaken his sense of control and
reality, and tonight he wanted that control back. Work today had progressed in a blur
because he’d spent way too much time thinking of Pam’s silvery hair flowing over her
shoulders and the ocean-depth mysteries in her eyes.

God, what would she look like with that pretty hair flowing over her naked

shoulders?

The doorbell rang and he jerked.
She’s here.
Anticipation ached and ran straight to his groin. He grimaced and willed his Johnson

into submission. Right, sport. The devil on the other shoulder recalled his fight last night
to keep his libido in check. While they’d talked about serious subjects, he’d soaked in her
warm scent and the wonderful sense of homecoming she gave him.

Homecoming.
How could a woman do that to him so quickly? Even his wife hadn’t attracted him

this fast.

He strode to the door and opened it. Pam stood there dressed in a dark, long wool

coat to ease the cold. “Hey.”

“Hey. Come in.” He stood back to let her inside.
She glanced around as he took off her coat. “This is…cozy.”
He grinned. “Rustic you mean. I know. I’m renovating it. It’s Craftsman style.”
“I love it. You’ve done a lot to it already.”
He hung her coat in a hall closet. “It’s taking me a long time. I’ve been working on it

for a year.”

After he offered her hot tea, they settled on his sectional couch. She crossed her

legs—the slim black pants hugging her butt and thighs, then flaring out at the bottom. A
dark green sweater molded her curves, especially her full breasts. Under the firelight she
seemed to glisten, to shimmer like a precious, pale gem.

“You’re staring.” Her voice broke his trance. A blush stained her cheekbones.
“Sorry.” He smiled, a bit chagrinned he’d been so damned obvious.

“You’re…beautiful.”

Her returning smile and laugh sounded like music—too good to be true. “You’re

sorry you think I’m beautiful?”

The microwave dinged as it announced hot tea was ready. He went to retrieve her

drink. “No. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. But I was staring because you’re pretty.”

As he returned to the couch and handed her tea, Pam’s color stayed high. He sat

down beside her and realized the fire and soft jazz music must look like a seduction
scene.

Maybe it is.
“Mmm.” She held the mug between both hands, then placed it on a coaster on the

coffee table. “Hot, good tea.”

“Earl Grey.”

She dipped the teabag up and down. “Thanks for leaving the teabag in here. I like it

very strong.”

The almost purring quality of her voice shot arousal through his groin.
Maintain man. She didn’t come here so you could get in her pants.
“So, why did you ask me here?” she asked.
“Because we still aren’t finished talking.”
“You like to take things slow, don’t you?”
Oh, yeah. Hot and slow.
“What things?” he asked.
“Conversation.”
He nodded. Revealing things at a snail’s pace always seemed normal to him, until

last night when they’d had dinner with his friends. “I feel like dinner the other night and
then last night at my friend’s house was only the tip of the iceberg. There’s more I don’t
know about you.”

“Of course.”
She shook her head, and that glorious mane of shimmering hair caught his attention

once more. He desperately wanted to bury his face in it and catch more of her clean scent.
An exotic flavor he couldn’t name, but that drove him insane.

“Tell me more about your…relationship with your brother,” he said.
He half expected her to hesitate, but she didn’t.
“I wasn’t close to Edward at the time he died. He and I…well, you heard the things

he said to me when we were in the house, and he pointed that gun at me.”

“I didn’t hear the words until later. All I saw was Edward pointing the rifle at you.”
He recalled the picture window on her mother’s house, the home where both Edward

and Pam had grown up. From his sniper position, he’d easily seen Edward’s stance. The
sniper rifle scope had given him a view of Pam’s precarious position.

“My wife’s death ran through my head that day.” He spoke the words, a confession

that Pam’s presence required.

“Why?” She shook her head. “Don’t answer that. Stupid question.”
“My wife died only a year before your situation with your brother. It was fresh in my

mind. My commander asked me if I was okay to work on the SWAT operation when he
knew I might have to take a shot to free you from your brother.”

“Were you?”
How did he tell her? “No. For the first time in my career as a SWAT team member, I

wasn’t sure of myself. I wasn’t steady.”

He saw her brow furrow, and Ian wondered if he’d just slit his wrists.
Pam sipped her tea before placing her mug on the coffee table again. “You hadn’t

shot anyone since your wife was killed?”

“No. Contrary to popular belief, cops don’t have to shoot people that often. Not even

snipers.”

Pam’s mouth turned up into a sarcastic smile. “Contrary to popular belief, not all

civilians are dumb when it comes to the difference between television cop dramas and
reality.”

He shifted until his arm lay along the back of the couch. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to

offend.”

“No offense taken. Actually, I know a lot about SWAT snipers. Any kind of sniper

for that matter.”

“Oh?” Curiosity drew him closer, surprise hitting him between the eyes.
She drew in a slow breath. “After Edward died, I felt compelled to learn how to

shoot. I know—you’d think I wouldn’t want anything to do with guns, right? I was afraid
of them, but knew if I didn’t do something…well, I’d end up one of those neurotic people
who can’t get past a trauma. I’d never want that. So I forced myself to take lessons—and
then I slowly took up sniper shooting.” She paused, as if waiting for his reaction.

He wondered if incredulity showed on his face. “Damn.”
“That’s what my parents said. They thought I was unstable…like my brother was.”

She closed her eyes. “Can you believe they tried to do an intervention?”

“You’re kidding? What for?”
“They were convinced I planned something drastic. Maybe I wanted revenge against

you.”

Ian leaned forward, his gaze taking in the pale hue of her face and the innocence in

those eyes. “Did you?”

“Of course not. Sure, I was hurting; I even sort of hated you a little at first. But I’m

not my brother. I convinced them I had no intention of going postal.” She laughed softly.
“Which is pretty funny. My father is a postal inspector.”

Ian smiled. “I take it you went back to shooting?”
A twinkle brightened her eyes. “Yep. Still do. I’m pretty good.”
Her self-assurance placed him more at ease. He’d misjudged her. Pam was no

delicate flower, no matter how pretty or sweet she appeared. He wanted to challenge her.

He grinned. “Bet I’m still a better shot.”
Her returning smile reassured him. “I’ll bet you are. Is there a range in town?”
“Just outside of town.”
She nodded. “If we had more time, I could show you my skills.”
His groin tightened. Damn. “Yeah, I’ll bet you could.” Quiet stretched between

them. “But you still hurt sometimes, right?”

“Yes.”
Guilt stung like a wasp. “I’m sorry. I wish somehow I could take away your pain.”
She touched his hand and the soft warmth flowed through his body in a comforting

wave. “It’s starting to ease already. Knowing you…talking about all this has helped. I
don’t think anyone understands the way you do.”

Pam watched his eyes change, the thickly-lashed darkness burning with sensual

purpose. Ian threw her off guard as he eased closer. She couldn’t mistake the way his hot
gaze sought hers and spoke to the equal longing burning inside her. In a word, she
couldn’t deny he defined hot. At the same time, Ian had no arrogance or pretension.

“Did you…what did you do to heal from your wife’s death?”
“The usual things. Returned to work. I kept up my volunteer work with the local

Boy’s Club. One or two other SWAT guys volunteer there.”

“That’s wonderful. Do you have any other talents?”
Wow. That sounded well…suggestive. Heat flooded her veins.
Ian’s crooked grin promised and teased, then eased into a gentle smile. His fingers

drifted over her hair, a gossamer touch. “I can speak Spanish fairly well. My mother is
from Spain.”

“Oh. With a name like Duffy I assumed…”
“I have a lot of Irish and Scottish ancestry on my father’s side. I’m a real mongrel.”
She couldn’t help saying, “It looks good on you.”
“Stop it.”
“What?”
That devouring look entered his eyes again. “Flattering me.”
“It’s the truth, Ian. You’re a handsome man in a rugged, outdoors way.”
He leaned closer. “I like to hike. I do archery, golf and other sports. So maybe that’s

what you’re picking up.”

“Right. That’s it.”
His arm went along the back of the couch. His nearness, masculine scent, and

strength brought her closer. Her heartbeat quickened, and Pam felt out of control.

His gaze captured and held hers. “You don’t know me very well.”
“I know you enough to realize you’re a decent man. You’ve gone through a lot and

you saved my life.”

“At the cost of your brother’s life.”
“You did what you had to.”
This close she couldn’t resist caressing his cheek. “I’m convinced Edward would

have killed me.”

His gaze, so hot and filled with undeniable sensual interest, traced over her features.

“I’m not a sniper anymore.”

Chapter Five

Ian’s statement threw Pam. “What?”
“After your brother, I couldn’t be a sniper again.”
Shocked, she asked, “You’re still in SWAT?”
“Yeah.”
Guilt assailed her. “Do you think you’ll return to a sniper position?”
He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, his gaze thoughtful. “I’d have to

prove myself.”

“If you want it badly enough, you will.”
Perhaps it was a Eureka moment for him. His smile was the widest she’d seen on

him in their short acquaintance. “Now that we’ve talked and you thanked me for saving
your life, have you found completion? Did you get what you came for?”

A heat wave went through her as he squeezed her hand gently. “I think I found

more.”

“Such as?”
“I discovered what a nice man you are.”
“You thought I’d be a bastard?”
“Maybe.”
His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist and created havoc. His touch tingled,

almost burned in a delightful way.

He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll do

something really stupid.”

Curiosity and excitement jumped around inside her. “You think I’m going to leave

before I find out what that is?”

“Maybe you should.” His eyes darkened, all teasing erased.
“I’ve never been a timid woman, Ian. Wounded maybe, but never broken. I won’t

start running now.”

“I can see that.”
“But you didn’t believe that when you first saw me, did you?”
He laughed softly as his fingers caressed hers. “Hell, no. You’re delicate looking.

Like some kind of angel.”

Her cheeks heated, and his statement added fuel to the arousal steadily rising. “Other

people think I’m delicate. But they’re wrong.”

“I can see that.” His voice deepened to a richness that smoothed along her skin until

it aroused her like a physical touch. “You’re special.”

“Ian Duffy, there you go with the outrageous flattery.”
He shifted, gaze darting away, then returning. “Okay, if you think I’m flattering you

too much, I might as well continue.” He tipped her chin upward with his index finger.
“From the first time I saw you, I thought you were hot. I was instantly attracted to you
and all I could think about was this.”

Ian leaned forward, his lips touching hers for a sweet fraction, a warm delight.
Heat shot through her, along with intense longing. Their lips remained close together

as he drew back.

“Like you said, I don’t know you very well, Ian.”
A smile coasted over his gorgeous, firm lips. “And?”
“What are we doing?”
“Just say the word, and we won’t do anything at all.”
A man had never treated her as if her needs and wishes came top priority. The whole

idea intoxicated her with possibilities.

She took a chance and touched his smooth-shaven cheek once more. She leaned in

and showed him what she wanted. Her kiss was as tentative as his, an exploration. His
mouth stroked, teased, asked until she gave.

As if he could stand it no more, he slipped his hand into the hair at the back of her

neck. He angled until their lips sealed hotly. His mouth parted hers and with a deep
thrust, his tongue brushed and tangled with hers.

Pam melted, each stroke sending sparklers of sharp desire dancing in her stomach.

She ached deep, a primal need exploding overwhelming her. She relinquished hold on her
desire, eager to discover. His arm came around her waist as his fingers tangled in her hair
and stroked down her neck. Pam shivered, excited and aching to know more.

Ian cupped her bottom with one hand, his big palm squeezing gently.
“Ian,” she whispered when he drew back, “this is going fast. Too fast for me.”
“Then we’ll stop.” He plunged his fingers into her hair and tilted her head up.

“There’s one thing you’ve gotta know. We may not have been together long, but I want
to keep exploring this…whatever this is that we have. I want you.”

His directness kept her off guard. “You’re very…clear.”
He smoothed his hands down her neck to her shoulders. “I wasn’t always. I’ve been

very locked up emotionally lately. My wife and I were very happy, so happy that when
she died I never imagined having another relationship with a woman. Not until I met
you.” Pain entered his eyes. “A few days before she was killed, she told me she wanted
me to quit my job. Said it was too dangerous. Those were her exact words the day she
was killed.” A dark place opened in his eyes. “Who would have thought being a jewelry
designer would be dangerous?”

She nodded. “Ironic in a horrible way, isn’t it?”
He mimicked her nod, but stayed quiet. Finally, he continued. “She felt I spent too

much time working, but she regularly came home late from the shop.”

“You don’t feel she played fair?”
“At the time I didn’t.” He took a slow, deep breath. His fingers caressed hers as Ian

gathered her hands into his. “I know one thing now. I’ll never take how I feel about
someone for granted ever again.”

Pam gently drew her hands back to find clarity from emotions balling up inside her.

She wanted to understand with everything within her. “I’m going back to Denver.”

Sincerity warmed his eyes. “I’ll miss you until you come back.”
“Perhaps I won’t…come back, that is.”
“Is that what you want? Are you worried people will judge you because you’re with

the man who killed your brother?”

Ian’s words hit full force. Maybe that was it. Perhaps she feared judgment. “My

parents would freak.”

“And?”
“Some friends.”

“And?”
She closed her eyes to avoid the questions she saw in his.
When she didn’t reply, Ian spoke. “Take all the time you need. Go back to Denver.

Think about what you want. I’ll be here in Gold Rush.”

Pam opened her eyes, well aware she may have burned a bridge. His eyes had grown

cooler and less open. But then, maybe hers had, too.

“I’d better go.” Pam swallowed hard, her soul aching.
He stood and held his hand out to her. They gathered her coat and purse and before

long she stood at the front door.

“I’m sorry, Ian.” What else could she say when confusion tied her in knots and

pulled so tight she couldn’t breathe?

He kissed her on the cheek. “So am I. You have my phone numbers. If you want to

talk, you know where to find me.”

She nodded. “Goodbye.”
As she drove away that night, she wondered if she’d just made the stupidest mistake

in her life.

Chapter Six

One Month Later

Pam finished a Thursday evening at work and when she arrived home found a

message on her answering machine. She dropped her handbag on the couch and forced
herself to take off her long coat. She wouldn’t rush to the machine and play the message.
She’d done that all month, like a ridiculous high school girl with a crush. A woman
hoping her love would call and pining her life away because he didn’t.

She took her coat to the hall closet, glancing at the phone.
Blink. Blink.
A steady blink assured her she’d received one call only.
All month she’d half hoped Ian would call. Though he never did, she couldn’t blame

him. He hadn’t promised anything. He’d told her what type of relationship he’d wanted.

Pam headed to the bedroom and put on her sweats. Now. Now she could play back

the message. She tapped the message button.

“Hey girl, give me a call.”
Careena.
Pam returned the call.
“Hey, Pam, what’s up? Are you busy this weekend?”
“No. Why?”
Ever the optimistic one, Careena said, “I thought maybe you’d go to Gold Rush and

spend time with that hot cop.”

“You say that once a week.” Pam frowned and settled on the couch. Her small

apartment seemed smaller every day.

“Okay, okay. I’m going too far. I get it.”
“Do you?” Pam looked out at the snowflakes drifting like fluffy lint in the air.
“I’ve always been a busybody. I hope you’re happy though. You let a good one get

away.”

Had she?
“We hardly know each other.”
“How are you supposed to get to know him when you don’t talk to him?”
“It would be a long-distance relationship.”
“It’s less than a two-hour drive. You’ve got more excuses than anyone I know.”
“Can we talk about this another time? I’m tired.”
“All right. I know when I’ve overstepped my bounds.”
“No, you don’t. But you’re a good friend anyway.”
After they hung up, Pam remained planted on the couch, mind percolating. The urge

to call Ian became too strong.

She dialed his home number but got his machine. She left a message. Before she

could try his cell number, the phone rang. Anticipation bounced into excitement.

“Hello?” she answered breathlessly.
“Hi.” Ian’s liquid gold voice, as rough and deep and sexy as any she’d heard, came

over the line.

“Ian.”
“Glad you called.”
“How have you been?”
“I’ve kept busy. I’ve missed talking to you.”
Another chink in her armor fell apart. Their conversation veered to everyday themes.
Finally, she asked, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Going to Leadville to meet up with my parents and cousins.”
“I never asked you about your family.”
“I’m an only child. My parents tried to have kids for many years and I came along a

little late in their lives. Mom and dad were thirty-nine when they had me.”

“How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“You’ve been a cop most of your life.”
“Yeah. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“My parents house here in Denver with distant aunts and uncles.”
“Sounds great.”
Another pause told her it was time to reveal more of her heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t

call before. I was…”

“Busy?”
“Not too busy to call.”
“You weren’t ready for a relationship. You needed to think. I could have called you,

too.”

“I am now. Ready for a relationship.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“I feel the same as when you were here. I still want you.”
She tingled all over. “I had plenty of time to realize I was afraid you’d break my

heart.” She strained for the right words. “Because you made a big impression on me so
quickly.”

“I like the sound of that.” His voice turned husky. “What are we going to do about

it?”

Pam took the plunge. “I want to come to Gold Rush.”
“When.”
“Right now.”

* * * *

Pam stood on Ian’s doorstep for a full thirty seconds that seemed like eternity before

she rang the doorbell. She knew tonight they’d find a path together forged by raw, heated
passion. She couldn’t wait to taste him. She ached to talk with him, to take his body into
hers within whatever way he would have her. If he would have her.

She’d jumped into her clothes tonight with haste before running out the door. Her

hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her long coat hung open over a blue sweater and jeans
with athletic shoes. She had a huge tote bag slung over her shoulder.

He opened the door with a smile and gestured for her to come. “Hey, how was the

drive?”

“Too slow.” Too long when I couldn’t wait to be with you.

As he helped her strip off her coat, and hung the garment in a closet, she breathed

deep. His scent, sensual and masculine, stirred hot desires. She was here.

His half smile and thorough once over made her body ache for his. Wordless, she

watched as he walked toward her. Before she knew it, there stood so near bare inches
separated their bodies.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.
“Please do.”
His hands cupped her face as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her fingers twisted his

sweater in a grip as she tugged him closer. Hot, passionate, his kiss showed how much
he’d missed her. Desired her. Dizzy with the knowledge, she sank into his embrace.

Pam plunged into the kiss, her arms slipping around his waist. Her tongue met Ian’s

in a dance both erotic and cautious.

He drew back from her, his breath coming faster, his cheeks a little flushed. His lips

parted. “After you left me a month ago, I started to think. I’ve been running away from
being a sniper because I felt guilty about your brother. He wasn’t in his right mind and
reasoning with him was impossible. If there had been any way to talk him out of hurting
you…”

“I know. He didn’t give SWAT a choice. It was either his life or mine. If you hadn’t

taken the shot, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be dead.”

He nodded. “After you and I talked, it broke something open inside me. I realized I

didn’t want to run away again. I’m going to be a sniper again, Pam. Thank you for
making me realize what I wanted.”

She smiled, her heart filling. “That’s wonderful.”
He kissed her softly. “You’re here now in Gold Rush. How long do you plan to

stay?”

“I’d like to move here if I can find a job.”
His embrace tightened, his voice low and husky. “You will. I would love to have you

here with me. You could move into your own place…or with me.”

“With you?” She whispered the question.
“Only if it’s what you want.”
“Yes.”
And their lips met once more.

* * * *

One Year Later

Gold Rush Herald Wedding Announcements
Friends and family gathered on Saturday, November 14 to celebrate the wedding of

Ian Duffy and Pamela Gilliard. Ian is a Lieutenant with the El Torro County SWAT team.
Pamela is a massage therapist at Family Chiropractic in Gold Rush. Mr. and Mrs. Duffy
will reside in Gold Rush.

The End

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