Secret desire

Secret Desire
Gwynne Forster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Acknowledgments

To Walter Zacharius for his wisdom and courage in disregarding the notion, then current, that African-Americans would not write romance novels with African-American heroes and heroines worthy of publication, and that the African-American public would not buy and read them. Thanks to his foresight, sagacity and conviction, we African-American writers now need only produce work of high quality, and publication is assured. To my editor, Evette Porter, who skillfully eases the bumpy road to publication; to my agent, Patty Steel-Perkins, who knows well the ladders and pitfalls of this publishing business; and to my husband, who loves and supports me and is always there for me.

Dear Reader,

After the publication of Beyond Desire, which won a Gold Pen award, well over a hundred of you wrote me letters asking for Luke Hickson’s story. As the older brother of Marcus Hickson, the hero of Beyond Desire, Luke figured prominently in that story. And because of his personality, it took me a while to settle on a vehicle in which to present him as a romantic hero. Luke loves challenges and handles them with dispatch. Several of you wrote that you wouldn’t mind having a guy like Luke, and what woman would?

Don’t forget to look for my other Kimani series romances. Private Lives is the story of Allison Sawyer, a woman seeking respite from unhappiness with a man who’d sworn to love her. She finds joy and love unexpectedly with tough loner Brock Lightner, a private investigator. The heat that sizzles between them will almost burn your fingers as you turn the pages, and Brock’s tenderness with Allison’s five-year-old son will tug at your heart. Kimani Romance will release Private Lives in March 2009. Be sure to look for it. And don’t forget my latest Kimani Arabesque title, What Matters Most, which was published last month and is the second book in a partnership between Harlequin and St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. It’s a story of love and compassion and, as usual, a torrid romance.

I enjoy hearing from my readers, and in particular visiting book clubs in person and talking to members by phone. Please write me at GwynneF@aol.com or by mail at P.O. Box 45, New York, New York 10044. If you’d like an answer, please include a self-addressed stamped envelope. Visit my Web site, www.gwynneforster.com, and join my book club at GwynneForsterBookClubOfFansAndReaders@YahooGroups.com.

Fond regards,

Gwynne Forster

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 1

“Thank you kindly for nothing.”

“You got more than you deserved.”

“I didn’t seek what I deserve. No amount of money can compensate for the ten years of emotional hell I endured with Nathan Middleton.” Kate Middleton waved the check. “This is for my son’s future.”

She stared at Joshua Johnson’s thin pinched lips, hollow cheeks, and cold pigeon eyes, then swung around and headed for the door. With her hand on the knob, she let her gaze sweep the staid office of Johnson and Jackson with its ancient markings of respectability, including the graying old man—attorney for her late husband’s estate and a friend of the Middleton family—who didn’t raise his head to look at her. She took it all in, opened the door, walked out and closed it gently. Then she turned around, wiped her feet on the doormat, headed down the hall and didn’t look back.

Nathan Middleton hadn’t intended to set her free, but that was what her husband of ten years had done when he mocked fate by test driving a new-line sports car. While he’d lived, he’d done his best to rule and control her, pampered her and tried to stash her away in their elegant home. Her rebellion had been a source of increasing friction between them. For ten years, she’d fluttered around with clipped wings, but now she’d show them all, including her in-laws, who’d told their son that he’d married beneath his status. The world would know that she could manage her life and take care of her child.

Two hundred and ninety thousand dollars, a pittance of an inheritance for her and her child from the only son of a rich family—but it was more than she needed to get her life in order. She stepped out into the street, tightened her jacket against the sting of the brisk April breeze, inhaled the Grosse Pointe, Michigan, air, and smelled its familiarity. She had to get out of that town, away from that house with its memories of what Nathan had told her about her in-laws and their unfair estimation of her. She walked rapidly, her mind bursting with visions of her future. For many of her thirty-eight years, life had shortchanged her, but she meant to correct that—beginning right then.

Four months later, having returned with her son, Randy, to Portsmouth, Virginia, where she’d had her only teaching job, the only place she knew besides Charleston, South Carolina, and Grosse Pointe, Kate embarked on her new life—managing the bookstore that she’d purchased with a portion of the money from Nathan’s estate.

“You don’t need that sitter. You can leave your boy here with me while you’re at your store,” Madge Robinson, her building superintendent, said. “I take care of the kids that live in this apartment building while their mothers and fathers are off to business.”

Kate looked from the gnarled fingers and wrinkled and heavily veined hands to the lined, weathered face and the hair that hadn’t grayed or ever been dyed, and she wondered how many of life’s barbed-wire fences and spiked gates the poor woman had scaled. She jumped at every opportunity to baby-sit, and Kate suspected that the occasions gave her a chance to talk with her neighbors. Lonely hardly described her. She exhibited the energy of a fifty year old, but the appearance of an octogenarian.

“I’ll take you up on that, Madge,” Kate said, though she didn’t want to be beholden to Madge or anyone else. “And I do thank you,” she added, “but I want him to love books so, for now, he can sit in my store after school and read. When you do keep him, I’ll pay you the going rate for sitters.” She knew Randy would rather not be under her watchful eye, but she had to repair the damage that his father’s overindulgence had caused, and that meant keeping a right rein on him.

Luke Stuart Hickson hugged Amanda and Amy, his sister-in-law and niece, and walked with Marcus to his car. “It’s time you got to work on settling down, Luke,” Marcus said to his older brother. “We’d be happier if your life was what you want it to be, and we know it isn’t.”

Luke inserted the key into the lock, opened the door of his blue Buick LeSabre, and looked off into the distance. “Yeah, but it isn’t something I can manufacture. You know that. Don’t forget that you backed into paradise kicking and screaming.” He let a grin crease his mouth at the memory of it. “And look what you found. If I had a woman like Amanda, I wouldn’t be here with you right now. See you next weekend.”

An hour and forty minutes later, Luke turned off Route 17 onto Greenwood Drive in Portsmouth and headed home. He thought about what he’d do the rest of the day, his coveted Sunday off, and decided to get a bag of hamburgers and fries, pick up some Sunday papers and spend the day lolling around. He drove up Deep Creek Boulevard, stopped at Burgundy for the red light, and did a double take. Making certain that his eyes hadn’t fooled him, he backed up, stopped and got out. No, it wasn’t a mirage.

His steps quickened as he neared Kate’s Friendly Bookstore.

A woman and small boy peered at him from behind the door, handcuffed together, their faces pressed to the glass. It didn’t take him a second to figure out that they were prisoners. He tried the door. Locked, as he’d guessed. Too bad he wasn’t wearing his uniform. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulled out his badge, and held it so the woman could see it. If she recognized it as a policeman’s identification, she didn’t show it.

“Can you hear me?” he asked, but the woman didn’t respond. Instead, her eyes grew larger, and tears began to trickle down the boy’s face. He tried sign language, but got no response. There goes my Sunday. He tried to signal that he’d be back, then went to his car, got a knife and screwdriver, and picked the lock.

“I’m Detective Captain Luke Hickson,” he told them when he got the door open. “What happened?”

She didn’t appear to believe him, so he showed her his badge again. He gave her points for her caution; she had good reason. “I was locking up last night, and a man pushed us into the store, took the money from the cash register and said he was going to shoot us. I begged for mercy for my son, and he handcuffed us, took the store keys and locked us in. We’ve been here since nine last night. I’m…I’m so glad you came. My son, Randy, is starving.”

He looked at her more closely. She had to be tired and miserable, but you’d never guess it from her bearing. She had an aura of dignity, strength and soft femininity, and she earned his respect when she didn’t apologize for inconveniencing him. That would have smacked of dishonesty.

A half smile settled on her face as she glanced at her son. “You’ve been a great little trouper, Randy. I hope the captain can get these handcuffs off us soon, so we can get you something to eat.” She looked at Luke for confirmation that their hands would soon be free.

“I’ll do my best, ma’am, but it may take a while, so maybe you two want to go to the washroom before I start on these handcuffs.”

He got the bunch of keys that he kept in the glove compartment of his car and examined them. “Let’s get busy,” he said when they returned. If none of the keys fit, he’d have to use a cutter.

“Suppose you can’t find a key,” Randy said, apparently anxious to end his ordeal.

“We’ll get them off, with or without a key. It’s just easier with a key.” Another ten minutes is all I’m giving it, he told himself as one key after another failed to fit.

“That does it. We have to go to the station, but I’ll stop along the way and get you some food. What do you want to eat, ma’am?”

He didn’t imagine the relief that spread over her countenance. “Burgers, fries and milk for Randy. Buffalo wings, fries and coffee for me.”

“I’m not drinking any milk,” Randy said.

Luke let the boy have a steely gray-eyed stare. “Your mother said you’re drinking milk, and if you want those handcuffs off, young man, you will drink milk. You got that?”

He’d have sworn that her look was one of thanks. The boy was probably a problem, but his uncouth behavior didn’t so much as put a frown on her face, and he wondered about that. His olfactory sense triggered a masculine response. Her perfume again filled his head with ideas that had nothing to do with the work of a police detective, and he tried to shut it down. When he took her arm to help them into the back of his car, she turned to him, smiling, apparently to thank him, and the bottom dropped out of his belly. He stared into her greenish brown eyes, unable to shift his glance until Randy, in another display of bad manners, jerked his mother’s arm. Get your act together, man, he cautioned himself.

He left them in the car and bought their food. Then he drove with them to his precinct on Crawford Parkway. “As soon as you finish eating, we’ll start on those handcuffs,” he said, and with a look at Randy added, “and that includes drinking all of your milk.”

While they ate, he sent a clerk to get the details of their ordeal. “What’s your name, ma’am?” Luke asked her as he began trying more keys in the handcuffs.

“Kate Middleton.”

The sooner he freed their hands, the better; he did not relish standing that close to Kate Middleton for any length of time, touching her hands and…He shook himself out of it.

“Where’re you from, Mrs. Middleton?” he asked, though he knew he’d find out as soon as he read the clerk’s report. When she told him, he resisted asking her how she happened to make the jump from Grosse Pointe to Portsmouth, because that was personal, but he wanted to know all about her. With the fingers of her free left hand, she wiped perspiration from her brow. He’d already known she was getting warm, because her spicy perfume got stronger and stronger—teasing him, daring him to enjoy her nearness and to prolong the whole torturous experience. He’d recognize that perfume again if he smelled it in Timbuktu.

“Do you think it’ll take much longer?” she asked.

“Can’t say. I’ve got another fifty or so keys that I can try. Failing that, we’ll cut them off, but that won’t be fun.” She glanced up and caught his gaze, and embarrassment reddened her flawless tan complexion. So she was attracted to him! He’d as soon not have that piece of information—she was tempting enough as it was.

“Would you like to walk, or just stand?” he asked. “I know this is tiring for both of you.”

That soft, sweet smile again. “I’ll stand for a couple of minutes, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to stand,” Randy put in. “I was standing all night, and I wanna go to bed.”

Luke loved children and had always wanted some of his own, but he loved nice kids, not brats. “If she wants to stand, you stand,” he said to Randy. “You may not realize this, but it’s a man’s pleasure to please the women in his life, and you’re old enough to practice that. On your feet.”

“All right,” Randy said, his tone less than friendly.

Luke felt a twinge of sympathy for the boy, but Randy Middleton was going to respect his mother, at least until those handcuffs were removed. She stood slowly, and he wasn’t sure whether that was because she was tired or because she was standing so close to him. He moved back to give her some space, and made the mistake of looking into her eyes. He was forty-two, he knew when a woman’s interest in him was more than casual. Her warm, intense gaze told him plenty. It had been a long time since he’d last wanted a particular woman, but he wanted this one. Not that it mattered. He didn’t know a thing about her, and he refused to let himself be sucked into her orbit just because his testosterone had gotten unruly.

Enough was enough! He called a junior detective. “Set up that cutter, will you?”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Captain. You’ve been so kind to us,” Kate said, rubbing the wrist that had borne the metal cuff.

“My pleasure. You may go in a couple of minutes.” He handed her a notepad. “Jot down the address of your store and the hours and telephone number, and your home address and phone number, in case I need to reach you.” He knew his young colleague had taken that information from her, but he didn’t want to raise eyebrows by copying from the record in the presence of his officers. He gave her his card. “If you have a problem of any kind, call me.”

She did as he asked and thanked him again. “Could I phone for a taxi, please?”

He looked at the address she’d given. “I’ll drop you off on my way home.”

By the time he’d taken them home, the Hamburger House had closed, so he stopped at the River Café and bought enough Cajun-fried catfish, french fries and coleslaw for two meals, got the Sunday papers and headed for his co-op town house.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Kate Middleton wouldn’t get out of his head. He put on a CD and listened to his favorite music—a Max Bruch violin concerto—while he savored his lunch.

Relaxed, he thought back to the time when the woman he loved, his wife, had needed him and called for help. But he’d been busy saving someone else’s life, and he’d lost her, a victim of mistaken identity. He was not going to get involved with a woman he might have to protect. The fact that the robber had selected Kate’s store from among those nearby, which even the most inexperienced criminal should have known would yield more cash, made the crime suspicious. To his mind, it wasn’t an ordinary stickup. It occurred to him that he ought to have someone put a new lock on her store and get the keys to her. An expletive slipped through his lips.

Kate crawled into bed and replayed the day in her mind. Luke Hickson wasn’t an ordinary man whom you met on an ordinary day. The personification of gentleness, but oh, boy, you would not want to cross him. Power. He exuded it. Even seven-year-old Randy noticed it, because he hadn’t tried any of his usual antics on the captain. She couldn’t let her thoughts dwell on him, though, because such a man had to be married. And even if he wasn’t, she’d served her years of martyrdom in her marriage, and she wasn’t going that route again.

Thank God the robber hadn’t come ten minutes earlier. No one would ever know how glad she was that she’d taken all but a few dollars from the cash register and put her day’s take in the safe in the back room. She couldn’t afford to lose money. Buying a little summer home on the Albermarle Sound, moving Randy and herself into an apartment and setting up her bookstore had taken over half of her capital. Still, she was thankful. The robber had spared their lives. Tremors shook her at the thought that he might return to finish what he’d started. She hoped Luke Hickson would catch him.

She didn’t let herself dwell on the career she’d given up when Nathan moved them to Grosse Pointe, because she couldn’t resume teaching music education and advanced piano in the Portsmouth schools unless she took refresher courses or got another degree. Even then, she’d have to pass board exams again. With Randy to care for, she couldn’t spare the time or the money. Her career was a thing of the past.

She stretched out on the satin sheets—that her late husband had insisted they use—and let her bare skin enjoy the silky softness. Now that she wasn’t married, she’d taken to sleeping nude and loving it; that was part of her statement of independence.

She reached for the phone on its second ring.

“Ms. Middleton, please. Luke Hickson speaking.”

Currents of dizziness attacked her, and it seemed as though her head had lost most of its weight. “This is Kate, Captain Hickson. Is…is something the matter?” She hated the unsteadiness of her voice. The man must be used to having women roll over for him. Not this one.

“I hate to disturb your rest, but it’s occurred to me that you need a new lock and key for your store, and you need it now. With the simple padlock I put on it, a criminal wouldn’t need much imagination if he wanted to open it.”

“What do you suggest?”

“We can take care of it, but you have to be present. I can pick you up in half an hour.”

“Thanks. I’ll be ready.”

What next? She wanted to stay as far away from that man as she could get, but fate seemed to have other plans. She phoned Madge Robinson, the building superintendent.

“Madge, I have to go out for…I don’t know…an hour or two. Could you please keep an eye on Randy for me? He’s asleep.”

“In that case, I’ll go down to your place. It ain’t smart to leave a child his age alone. Be right there.”

She met Luke in the lobby and knew she’d never hear the end of it, because Madge was standing in the garden, though she should have been inside with Randy.

“Who’s with your boy?” Luke asked after handing her the new keys to her store.

She told him and waited, since it was clear he had something else to say.

“He needs a strong male hand. Where’s his father, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She hated talking about herself. Although he’d asked without seeming to probe, that didn’t make her more comfortable. “I’ve been a widow for fourteen months. Randy is showing the results of his father’s pampering and overindulgence. Sometimes he’s very unruly.”

“I can see that.”

He had a way of looking at her intently, of focusing on her as if she were the only other living creature on the planet. Suddenly, he smiled, and her heart flipped over like a jackknifed eighteen-wheeler. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“You didn’t get any rest, but…well, since we’re out here, do you feel like having a decent meal with me?”

Stunned at the unexpected invitation, she gazed up at him, judging his intent.

His smile widened. “I’m harmless. Besides, everybody in town knows me, so I can’t possibly abduct you and get away with it. What do you say?”

An infectious grin, his sparkling white teeth against his dark brown skin, gave her a warm feeling, and the twinkling mischievous challenge in his beautiful gray eyes provoked in her an oddball sense of devilment, a wickedness she hadn’t felt in over ten years.

In a reckless moment, she said, “Harmless? Luke Hickson, you’re about as harmless as a hungry lion among a herd of antelope.”

With his jacket open and his hands in his pants pockets emphasizing his six-foot, four-inch height and his imposing maleness, he gave his left shoulder a quick shrug. “I expect I’ve been likened to less admirable things, but when a charming woman tells me to my face that she thinks I’m dangerous, there’s no telling what will pop into my head.” He grinned again. “You willing to risk it?”

Primed for the game, she looked him up and down. “Oh, I don’t know. What kind of ideas get into your head?”

His eyes flashed fire, daring her. “You might be surprised.”

If he thought she’d back off, he was in for a surprise. “Good. I love surprises.”

His left eyebrow shot up. “And challenges, too, no doubt.”

She pulled on the long strand of hair that hung beside her right ear. “Oh, I thrive on those.”

“Ever pushed your luck too far?” he asked, his voice low and dark.

She couldn’t remember when she had last enjoyed flirting with a man, giving him back as good as she got. And a sharp-looking brother, at that. She pulled a curtain of innocence over her face and smiled. “Maybe. I don’t think so, though I’ve been told I have got an angel on my shoulder. So who knows? Where’s this place that serves a good meal?”

When he stepped closer and touched her elbow with a single finger, she looked around and then glanced up at him. He wasn’t smiling, and she knew she’d given herself away.

“If you’re checking to see who’s around in case you want to play, we’re alone in front of your store, four feet from a streetlight.”

The thought of playing with him, as he put it, sent a riot of sensation through her body, but she steeled herself against his intoxicating virility. “I don’t make a spectacle of myself, Captain. I just like to—”

“Tease?” His grin lacked its previous playfulness. “I like to tease, too, but I know when to draw the line. You’d better watch it. Your kind of funny stuff can get out of hand. Oh, yes. Let’s cut the formality, Kate. We’re way past that now. There’s a nice restaurant about six blocks away. I’ll drive us.”

“Sure you want to have a meal with this child?”

A frown marred his otherwise perfect features. “Child? What do you mean, child?”

She lifted her nose just enough to let him sense a mild reprimand. “I don’t suppose you make a habit of lecturing to adults.”

She couldn’t manage more than a wide-eyed stare as he ran his hand over his hair, gave her a sheepish grin and finally shrugged his left shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go.”

His hand on her arm was not impersonal as it had been when he took her and Randy to the police station. His grasp now bore an intimacy, a possessiveness, and it had a tenderness that made her want to feel his hands skimming her arm. Sensing danger, she told herself to remember to ask him about his wife and children, and to stay out of his company.

Luke had a premonition that dismissing her from his mind and his feelings wouldn’t be as easy as he’d thought, that handling his reaction to her would prove as tough a test as any he could remember. Her dignity, charm and impish ways fascinated him, and something in her eyes seemed to hide the wisdom of the ages and to promise him anything he would ever want.

He watched her read the menu, and wondered what was taking her so long. There wasn’t that much to read.

Very soon, it became clear that she hadn’t been reading. She didn’t take her gaze from the menu, which hid half of her face. “Luke, why aren’t you having dinner with your wife and children?”

That set him back a bit, but the question told him much about her. He closed his eyes briefly. “Kate, I’m a widower, and have been for six years. My wife and I weren’t fortunate enough to have children.”

She folded the menu, laid it on the table beside her plate and looked at him. “I’m sorry. Did you want children?”

Getting into that would drag him down as sure as his name was Luke Stuart Hickson. “Yes, I did. More than anything. What happened to your husband?”

So he didn’t like talking about it. Well, that was a kind of pain she could understand. She told him of Nathan’s death, and why she’d resettled in Portsmouth. “I was teaching here when I met Nathan. So it was Portsmouth or Charleston, where I grew up, and I didn’t think I could raise Randy and make a living for us in South Carolina. I want him to have every opportunity.”

He tapped the two middle fingers of his left hand on the table. “If he doesn’t get strong discipline, the opportunities you provide him with won’t mean one thing.”

She knew she had her hands full undoing the damage caused by Nathan’s pampering. He’d mistaken that for love, but she had recognized it as a substitute for the guidance their child needed.

“I know I’ve got my hands full with Randy, and I’m trying. But he threatens to call his paternal grandparents and tell them he’s being abused, the way he tattled to his father whenever I made him stay in his room. He’s smart beyond his years, Luke. I haven’t told them where we are yet, and with his attitude and a few other problems, I’m not sure I want to.”

He seemed to meditate for a few minutes before he said, “Enroll him in our Police Athletic League. Most of those boys aren’t with their fathers, so we give them the discipline they need.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to turn Randy loose with a group of underprivileged boys. Medicine that cured one ailment could cause another that killed. “We’ll see. I—”

“Some of those boys are from homes just like Randy’s, and all of them have learned to respect their mothers, so don’t be huffy about it. It may be just the help you need.”

One more indication that this man should not be taken for granted. And he said what he thought. “I may give it a try,” she said, mostly to change the subject.

“The sooner, the better.”

The waiter arrived to take their orders, and she breathed a long breath of relief. “I’ll have the leek soup and roast beef,” she said to the waiter, then glanced at Luke. “What are you wrinkling your nose for?”

He spread out his hands in a gesture of innocence. “With all this good food—stuffed crabs, crab cakes, Cajun-fried catfish, rolled veal in wine sauce with wild mushrooms, if you want to get fancy—why would anybody ask for roast beef and mashed potatoes?”

Why, indeed? If he thought she’d tell him that she hadn’t read the entire menu because he disconcerted her, he could think again. She caught the waiter’s sardonic expression.

“If you’d like to change…Captain Hickson eats here regularly. He may suggest something.”

She looked from one to the other and controlled her tongue. “I ordered roast beef because I like it. I’d also like a glass of Châteauneuf du Pape. You do carry French wines, don’t you?”

She’d known Luke Hickson exactly ten hours, but she would have bet her life that if she looked at him she’d see a grin on his face. He didn’t disappoint her.

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter replied. Then he took Luke’s order of broiled mushrooms and crown roast of pork and moved away as quickly as possible.

“Aren’t you having wine?” she asked Luke.

His grin turned into a full laugh—and what a laugh. If she had any sense, she’d get out of there. The man was like a time-release drug.

He sobered up and answered her question. “I’m driving, so I don’t drink. I’m a cop, remember? By the way, do you drive?”

She told him she had a Ford Taurus, but that she drove because she had to and not because she enjoyed it. They finished the meal, and he leaned back and watched her. She folded her hands in her lap, unfolded them, smoothed her hair, and then pushed aside the clump that hung over her right ear. Finally, discombobulated beyond measure, she told herself to relax and went on the attack. “Luke, would you please stop staring at me? You’re making me uncomfortable.”

Horrified, she could see that his look of innocence was not feigned. He leaned forward, appeared to reach for her, then pulled back his hand. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was enjoying being here with you. I don’t often have the company of a woman who wants nothing from me except time and good conversation.”

She believed in being honest. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve got a ten-year layer of social rust, plus I’ve had a lot more of my own company than was good for me. I’m out of practice, so I hope you’ll forgive me. Shall we go?”

“You’re wonderful company, rust or no rust,” he said, his grin hard at work. “I do want to ask if you have any idea who that man was who robbed you. If a criminal intends to shoot after committing a crime, he doesn’t usually let himself be talked out of it.”

“He seemed young, not more than twenty-five. I didn’t see his face, though, because he wore a hood. I’m wondering if my in-laws didn’t find out where we are and put someone up to it. They don’t want me to succeed. I’m sure of it.”

He sat forward, his posture rigid, as if he sensed approaching danger. “Your in-laws? If they’re wealthy upstanding citizens, would they hire a hit man? Somehow, I doubt it.”

“Then why would he have put the gun away when I told him he was frightening Randy and begged him to spare us?”

Luke drummed his fingers on the table. “Beats me, but I’ll get to the bottom of it. Be sure of that.”

He stood, looked down at her, and extended his hand to assist her from the booth. She took his hand, but released it as soon as she was safely on her feet. Inwardly, she laughed at herself. Why would a thirty-eight-year-old woman let a man make her jittery? She’d been married and was the mother of an seven-year-old boy, for heaven’s sake. She stood straighter and held her shoulders back.

“This has been wonderful. Actually, it’s my first night out since I’ve been here. And what do you know? I think I stepped out with the king of the hill.”

He had the grace to be embarrassed. “Come on now, Kate. You’re exaggerating.”

The waiter didn’t bring a bill, and she decided not to ask for one. Since he ate there regularly, he probably had an account with the restaurant or someone had slipped him the check. In any case, he didn’t seem the type who’d split the bill with a woman the first time they ate dinner together. A few April sprinkles dampened them as they strolled half a block to Luke’s car, but he didn’t hurry. She’d already noticed that Portsmouth inhabitants, like the Charlestonians among whom she grew up, took their time about most things. He walked with her to her apartment door, and her nerves started a wild battle with one another. She didn’t think he’d ask to come in, but…

“I’ve enjoyed this evening with you, Kate. I enjoyed it a lot. I hope we’ll get better acquainted.” Before she could say a word, he winked, turned around and headed down the hallway.

“Luke,” she called. “The dinner was wonderful, and so were you.”

He waved, opened the building’s front door, and disappeared into the night. She stared at the hall that led to the building’s lobby and shook her head. She knew herself as a conservative woman, one whom Nathan Middleton in his perverted gentility had taught to wait for the man to make the first move. In a flash, she realized that Nathan had discouraged, even rejected, her advances early in their marriage until she’d stopped making them. Ultimately, he had set the tone of their relationship and called all the shots. Ultimately, she hadn’t cared.

Maybe she was about to find out who she was, or to rediscover herself. She couldn’t figure out what had gotten into her. She’d dared Luke, flirted with him and challenged him, and she wasn’t even ashamed. Ashamed? She’d enjoyed every second of it. But he’d kept his counsel, and she suspected he’d just let her know that he didn’t go in for casual good-night kisses, not even pecks on the cheek. It was just as well. If he’d kissed her, she’d probably have landed on the clouds. She had always wanted to fly with a man, and the woman in her knew instinctively that Luke Hickson could take her with him on wings of ecstasy. However, she’d been certain of that once before, and in ten years of groping for fulfillment, she’d gotten nothing but emptiness, a painful kind of loneliness—a thousand disappointments, like a field of scentless roses or an orchard of flowering cherry trees that bore no fruit. She didn’t feel like retracing those steps.

Luke propped his left foot on the step stool he kept in his walk-in closet and pondered his sudden urge to look at his family album. Why, after a dozen years or more, did he need to see pictures of his late parents and of him and Marcus as growing boys? He put the photo album back in its place without opening it, clicked off the light and wandered into the den. It wasn’t a time for nostalgia. He’d loved and cherished Eunice, and until her horrifying demise, they’d had a wonderful marriage—a happy marriage, comforting and companionable. But, he realized all of a sudden, it had been unexciting. Kate Middleton exhilarated him. And she had a streak of wickedness that brought out something strange in him, a kind of wildness with which he was unfamiliar. He’d controlled it, but he’d give anything to know what would happen if he felt it again and let himself give in to it.

He knew the danger of taking up a woman’s challenge, and she’d practically dared him to show her the man that he was. Not that he was gullible; he’d walked away from more glittering pitfalls. What got to him was the thin layer of sadness beneath her jocular manner. That, along with her wit and charm, made him vulnerable to her, piqued his curiosity and made him want to know everything about her. He went to the refrigerator, got a can of beer and took a few swallows. An inner urging told him to bide his time, and he knew he’d better listen.

He snapped his fingers as he remembered her fear that her in-laws might be trying to prevent her from succeeding with the bookstore. It didn’t quite wash, but to be on the safe side, he’d assign a detective to watch that block first thing Monday morning.

When Kate walked into her living room, she found Madge Robinson snoring in front of the television and Bugs Bunny savoring a carrot while he plotted mischief. She awakened the woman by turning off the TV.

Madge jumped up. “I didn’t expect you’d be back in no two hours. If I went anywhere with Captain Hickson, I’d keep him half the night, too.”

She didn’t have much patience with busybodies. Madge Robinson had known she’d been with Luke because she’d walked to the edge of the garden and peered through the hedge, snooping. “Mrs. Robinson, it’s only nine-fifteen, and I’d hardly consider that half the night. Did Randy give you any trouble?”

Madge sat down and flicked the television back on. “I didn’t see the rest of Bugs. No, Randy didn’t give me a speck of trouble. I went to my place and got him some ice cream, and he went to bed as peacefully as a lamb, just like he promised.”

Just what Randy needed, someone else to pamper him and cajole him into doing what he knew he should do. “You mean, you bribed Randy to go to sleep?”

Madge glued her gaze to the television. “That tiger’s gonna catch Bugs if he ain’t careful. What? Oh. It was better for him to sleep than give me a hard time. Besides, he was tired, anyway. Poor kid said he hadn’t slept all last night.”

“How much do I owe you, Mrs. Robinson?”

“What? Fifteen. That’s my regular price, and call me Madge, like everybody else does. I’d rather not charge for keeping the tenants’ children, but everybody wants to pay. It’s a pleasure for me, ’cause I’m always by myself ’less someone wants me to keep the kids. I never had any, so I enjoys it. I ’spec you want to turn in, so I’ll go on home soon as Bugs is finished.”

Kate inhaled a long breath and sat down to watch Bugs Bunny. Within minutes she had closed her eyes and begun to relive the evening.

She opened her store the next morning at nine o’clock, the usual hour. Beside the doorknob, she noticed a buzzer that hadn’t been there before the robbery. She’d ask Luke about that. Half an hour later, she answered the buzzer and opened the door for a policeman.

“’Morning, Miss Kate,” he said, tipping his hat. “I’m Officer Cowan, and I’ve been assigned to patrol your area. I just wanted to give you my pager number, in case you have a problem. I won’t be more than eight or ten blocks from you at any time, so feel safe. You can turn this buzzer off till near dark. I doubt anybody’s gonna bother you in broad daylight.”

That air that whistled through his teeth with each word he uttered and the large patch of black hair beneath his left ear guaranteed that she wouldn’t forget him. She thanked him, and he left, but she wanted to ask somebody if Luke Hickson took such good care of every citizen in his precinct. The protection gave her a sense of security, but she didn’t want special favors. One way or another, you paid for them. She’d rather spend her precious funds on a store guard and keep her independence.

She rang up a sale, handed the change to the buyer. Then, as her gaze caught Luke heading toward her, she jammed her finger in the drawer of the cash register. She’d thought him handsome, but as she stared at him in his captain’s uniform she nearly swallowed her tongue. He glided toward her, his stride purposeful and powerful and his gaze fixed on her.

He stopped beside her customer and touched his cap. “Glad to see you’re up and out, Miss Fanny. You had a long siege.”

“Oh, Captain,” the woman exclaimed, “I don’t know what I’d have done if you and your men hadn’t kept a close check on me.” She turned to Kate. “They’re my family. Brought me food and the paper every single day. Good, hot food, too, ’cause, honey, I wasn’t able to get up and cook. I’m going to bake them some gingerbread soon as I feel up to it.” She pointed a finger toward Luke. “He loves gingerbread, gingersnaps and whatever else I can put ginger in.” Kate wrapped the woman’s purchases—a volume of poems and a copy of Fools Rush In—and handed them to her.

“I’ll be back soon as I finish Fools Rush In,” Miss Fanny called over her shoulder as she left.

“Did you sleep well?” Luke asked.

She nodded. “Wonderfully. Thanks.” Then she remembered the buzzer. “Luke, did you have that buzzer put on my door?”

He flipped back his cap and closed his eyes for a split second. “Yeah. Of course I did. It’s dark long before you leave, and most of the stores in this block close a couple of hours before you do. You’re vulnerable. What’s the matter? You don’t want it there?”

What could she say? Of course she needed that, and any other protection that would prevent her from losing her store. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful. I am—”

He frowned and barely narrowed his left eye. “But what, Kate? Tell me you’re going to do this all on your own, that you don’t need anybody’s help. Fine. Give me a screwdriver, and I’ll remove the buzzer.”

Now she’d done it. What was it about men that made them see things in black-and-white? “I appreciate your kindness, but in ten years of marriage, I wasn’t allowed to make a single meaningful decision. I was spoon-fed, managed and manipulated. You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I’m supersensitive about my independence.”

He stepped closer and burned her with his all-knowing gaze. “If your marriage wasn’t a happy one, why did you stay?”

“I have a son, and I took a vow.”

She’d said more than she wanted him to know. But then, she’d already accepted that she wasn’t normal around him.

Something akin to recognition—or could it be approval?—gleamed in his intense gaze. “You’re an admirable woman. I just dropped by to make certain everything’s all right. Did Cowan introduce himself to you this morning?”

She nodded, perplexed. The man whose company she’d enjoyed the previous evening had been swallowed by that captain’s uniform. She didn’t know what to think. “Officer Cowan said he’d be checking on me. Luke, do you think it’s necessary to go to so much trouble?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “For a simple robbery, I wouldn’t take such steps, but you’ve implied that you’re in jeopardy, and until that robbery case is solved, it’s my job to protect you—whether you like that or not. What time will Randy be here this afternoon?”

She tried to imagine what was behind the question. “Three-thirty. Why? What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like him to come over to PAL.” He gave her the address. “You can’t begin too early. He has the profile of a kid who needs help, and you have to straighten him out now.”

She knew he didn’t exaggerate. “All right. I’ll…I’ll send him.”

Her nerves shimmered when his hand covered hers in a gentle gesture of comfort. “One of the counsellors or officers will pick him up at three-thirty and bring him back before you close. Relax, now. He couldn’t be in better hands.”

She let herself luxuriate in the warmth that leaped out from him. She knew she should move her hand, but why couldn’t she enjoy his caring gesture for just a minute? He looked at her the way he had when they sat in that booth without speaking after their dinner—not searching or examining, just communicating in a most primal way. She wanted to ask him if he was telling her he liked her, but she didn’t.

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Be my friend, Luke, but please don’t spoil me. I’ve had too much of that. Do you understand?”

He clasped her hand more tightly, but he didn’t smile, and she wondered what had happened to the grin with which he’d mesmerized her Sunday evening.

“I understand,” he told her, “but you can’t assume that I’d treat you as your husband did. I believe in giving a person breathing space, and I like women who’re capable of standing on their own two feet.” He touched the brim of his cap. “I’ll drop by again to see how you’re getting on.”

He moved his hand, leaving her with a sense of loss. “Thanks, Luke, for…for everything.”

As he turned to go she amazed herself by saying, “I make great gingerbread. Randy’s crazy about it.”

His stare made her want to disappear, for he had to know that her remark had been an attempt to detain him. Then a grin began around his mouth and quickly covered his face in a smile that lit up everything around them. “You may never get rid of me. If you don’t make some soon, I’ll put in a request. Bet on that. Just thinking about gingerbread gives me a high.”

She joined in his merriment, more comfortable with him in the lightened mood. “Ever the officer. Imagine getting high on gingerbread. Well, if that’s what revs your engine.”

He grinned again and his left eye flicked in a deliberate wink. “That, and one or two other things. See you later.”

He strode toward the door with a seductive swing, as though his rhythmic gait had been choreographed by a master choreographer. My Lord, she thought, walking toward me or striding off, the man oozes sex appeal. She’d have her hands full trying not to become attached to him. He was used to giving orders, to controlling people, and she’d had enough of that. Her one priority was to establish her store in order to take care of Randy and herself. Falling for a man, even a handsome catch like Luke Hickson, didn’t fit into her plans. But oh, how tempting he was!

Chapter 2

No sooner had Luke gotten back to the precinct and settled down to work than Axel Strange strolled into his office without knocking and took a seat. Ten years on the force, nine of them at that precinct, and he still couldn’t warm up to the man.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

Axel leaned back in the chair and crossed his right leg over his left knee, as comfortable as if he were in his own office. “I’m told you know where the cutter is.”

Luke lay his pen beside his writing pad and prepared for some of Axel’s sleuthing. Something about Axel Strange reminded him of grease, always had. He never meant precisely what he said, leaving himself an out. His words had to be decoded. And just when you had to depend on him, he wasn’t there. The man never talked about himself, but he always had the goods on his fellow officers and didn’t mind talking about them. He didn’t exactly dislike Axel, but he was more comfortable when the man wasn’t around.

Luke let his gaze roam over Axel, cataloging the things that irked him. “Unless someone used that cutter after I did, it’s in its place. Why are you asking me, anyway? Speak to the sergeant in charge of storage.”

Axel shifted his demeanor from amiable to harsh, checked himself and produced another smile. “I just thought you’d know. By the way, who was the woman? I tell you, I couldn’t believe you spent most of your day off looking after some dame. Must be some dish, huh?”

Luke stiffened. A little of Axel could last him a long time. “Read the log, man. I’m sure it contains everything you need to know. Cowan’s on that beat, and he can handle anything that comes up. I’d better get busy.”

It surprised him that Axel didn’t move, and he wondered if he’d finally have to pull rank on the man.

“Rick—you know, the waiter at River Café—said you had a sharp-looking gal there with you last night that he didn’t recognize. Couldn’t have been the same woman, could it?”

Luke strummed his fingers on his desk, his patience waning. “I’m surprised you consider that your business. It isn’t.”

Axel’s smile was about what he expected, given that the man could back away from a position with the swiftness of an Indianapolis 500 racer. “Everybody’s curious about you, man. We’re all waiting for the boss to be had.”

Luke picked up his pen, signaling the conversation’s end. “Fortunately, I am not gullible enough to believe the men in this precinct have nothing better to think about than my private business. Since we’ve both got work to do, I suggest we get to it.”

The ugliness that glazed Axel Strange’s face so quickly that it was hardly discernible sent a shot of adrenaline streaking through Luke—pure animosity, and he knew he hadn’t imagined it. He’d never regarded the man as an enemy, and maybe he wasn’t, but he’d bear watching.

Luke missed his camaraderie with Jack McCarthy, whom he’d replaced as detective captain when the man retired, and he enjoyed an occasional lunch with him.

He sat at his favorite table in the River Café, facing the door, when the old man walked in, tall, straight and still striding with the regal bearing of a five-star general.

“Great to see you, Luke. How’s it going? Chopped any heads off yet?”

That brought a laugh from Luke because he’d come to expect that question whenever they met. “How are you, Jack? I haven’t, but my fingers are getting itchy.”

McCarthy ordered two beers for himself. “One of the rewards of retirement,” he explained. “How are you and Strange getting along?”

Luke cocked an eyebrow. “Fried Norfolk spots today,” he told the waiter before turning his attention to his friend. “Do you expect Axel to be a problem?”

Jack enjoyed his first swallow of beer, shook his head and laughed. “Luke, that man is a problem. Don’t you know he submitted a written application for every promotion you got? Of course, he lost to you every time. I told him it wasn’t even a contest. By the time I retired, he’d become obsessed with you. Wanted to know about your assignments, expense accounts, semiannual evaluations, and I don’t know what all. I told him the way to beat you was to do a better job.”

“Well, I’ll be doggoned. I just thought maybe he’d dragged himself up by his bootstraps, and that accounted for his grabbing at everything he saw. It wouldn’t hurt him to try hard work.”

“Not a chance. I gave him that choice many times, but if he took it, I saw no evidence of it. He takes the easy way every time, and that’s unusual for a man with his background. He comes from a topflight family of self-made men, but he doesn’t like work and he’s devious. I’d watch him closely.”

Luke sniffed the aroma of sizzling spots and hush puppies as the waiter set the plates on the table. “Yeah.” He bit into one of the deep-fried balls of spicy corn bread and let himself enjoy it. “I’m glad you told me about Strange, because I’ve been planning to reassign him. I think I’d better wait on that.”

After saying goodbye Luke headed back to the precinct, pondering Jack’s admonition about Axel as he drove. He’d rather not have to deal harshly with any of his staff, but if Axel challenged him, he’d teach the man a lesson.

Several days later, Randy raced into the bookstore from his one-hour sojourn at PAL. With a pout that Kate recognized, he flung his book bag on the counter near where she stood waiting on a customer. She stared hard at him until he greeted her and the woman, moved his books and went into her office. A week earlier, he would have ignored her silent reprimand.

“What’s the problem?” she asked him after the customer had left.

“That place is like the army,” he grumbled. Even in that short time, his manners had improved, for he answered her without hesitation.

“You agreed to go, Randy, and you’re going. You have to keep your word. Why are you complaining?”

“Keep my word. Keep my word,” he mimicked. “I heard that fifty times every day I’ve been there. Next week is my week to deliver stuff to some old people. A guy drives the truck, and I get out and take the stuff in.”

She thought for a minute, wanting to shame him. “Can these senior citizens get the food themselves, and do they have the money?”

She knew she’d gotten to him when he hung his head. “Captain Luke says they’ll starve if we don’t help them out.”

“I see. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”

It pleased her that his bottom lip no longer protruded and that his frown had vanished. “No, I guess. But Captain Luke said that after next week, I have to teach the other four guys in my group how to do it. But I wanna take tennis lessons.”

She’d locked the store before going into the office. When the buzzer rang, she rushed toward the door, saw Luke Hickson in his navy blue uniform, a stunning figure, and tried to settle her nerves. If he didn’t turn her heart into a runaway train, he’d calm her just by being there. Looking at him, she thought he could handle anything and anybody.

Luke stepped into the store and gazed down at her. She’d had no cause to doubt her sanity, but when his pupils went from gray to a near-black, with fiery twinkles all around them, she wondered if she’d imagined it.

He grinned. “Hi.”

Quickly, she shifted her gaze. If he told her he didn’t know the effect of that grin, she wouldn’t believe him.

“Hi, yourself. Randy was just complaining about the assignments you gave him,” she said, her voice climbing as she strove to reduce the tension between them.

Luke lifted his shoulder in a quick dismissive shrug, and she knew she hadn’t taken his mind off them by opening the subject of Randy. “Let him complain. He doesn’t fool me, because I know he’s enjoying himself. And he’s proud he was singled out as group leader.”

She stared at Luke. “He was?”

“Yeah. Didn’t he tell you? He’s doing great.”

She let out a long breath. “What a relief. He says he wants to spend his time learning to play tennis.”

Luke stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets, his slight frown suggesting that Randy wasn’t his priority right then. “I’ll teach him how to play tennis, but not till he learns to enjoy helping people who need his help. Where is he?”

She nodded toward her office. “In there.”

Luke looked into the distance, seemingly debating with himself. Then he fixed a penetrating gaze on her. “How about dinner? Randy’s welcome to come along.”

She hadn’t expected that, and she knew her demeanor betrayed her eagerness to accept. “I…I’d like to, but I don’t allow Randy to be out at night if he has school the next day. I’m sorry.”

She would learn that Luke was resourceful, and not easily stymied. “Tell you what,” he said. “Suppose I go in there and work with him on his lessons, and you get Madge to look after him while we go to dinner? We can get takeout for him, and he can eat at home. What about it?”

Eagerness be hanged! She wanted to go with him, and she didn’t see the sense in pretending she didn’t. “Okay.”

Madge would probably agree, but how would Randy react to having Luke go over his lessons with him? Well, she figured Luke could handle it. Besides, a good dose of Luke was what Randy needed.

“You want to go back to the River Café?” Luke asked later as he pulled away from the curb in front of the apartment building in which she lived.

She’d liked the place, and readily agreed. “It’s very attractive, and I enjoyed the food.”

He spared her a side glance, mischief dancing in his gray eyes. “The food, huh? What about the company?”

She sank into the soft leather seat and got comfortable, eager to match wits. “I’ve had worse. Lots worse. Why do you ask?”

He paused at the Stop sign, looked from left to right, turned into Elm Avenue and headed for Effington Street and the River Café. “Since you ask, I’m wondering the same thing. Why did I ask? If you’d said I was a washout, you’d have crushed this poor heart.”

Laughter bubbled up in her. “How’d you fix your mouth to say that? If I’ve ever seen a man with a star on his forehead, it’s you. So I’m not going for that humble stuff.”

“You mean, you’re not willing to find out who I am? You think I’m a six-foot, four-inch Samson in a monkey suit? Just like every other tough cop in blue? That it?”

She sat up straight. This man had his vulnerable spots, and she’d better remember it. “Since that remark had a ring of seriousness, I won’t joke about it. I also won’t back away from what my instincts tell me. If I needed a defender, I’d send for you.”

His failure to comment told her more than she was comfortable knowing. They entered the restaurant through a side door, and the aroma of buttermilk biscuits, garlic, sage sausage and frying fish teased her nostrils as they passed the kitchen on their way to the dining room.

Kate licked her lips in anticipation of the meal. “Is this your regular table?” she asked him as the waiter led them to the one they’d shared on her previous visit.

“I usually sit here,” he answered in an offhand manner, as though he didn’t merit special treatment. “You eating roast beef and leek soup again tonight?” His gray eyes glittered with devilment, and she braced herself for a blast of his charm.

“I’m having Cajun-fried catfish and hush puppies.”

“Glad to hear it. That’s what I had for lunch.”

He winked at her over the top of the largest menu she’d ever seen, and she couldn’t help staring at him, at those eyes that commanded her to get lost in them. Maybe being with a husband who’d paid her little attention for most of their marriage had weakened her resistance to men.

“How’d you and Randy get along with his lessons?”

He waited until the waiter finished serving their food, leaned back in his chair and looked at her. “Hard to tell. He did his homework. Effortlessly, I’d say. But I’m not sure he likes me. I know he doesn’t like being told what to do.” He cut off a piece of steak and savored it. “He respects me, or maybe it’s my uniform, but I’ll take that for now.”

“Why did you make him group leader?”

“I didn’t. The boys in his group elected him. Now he’s responsible for his behavior, and for theirs, as well. It’s good for him.”

She hoped so. “You said you’d give him tennis lessons.”

He finished the last piece of steak. “I will. I’m a pretty fair player, and if he’s interested in learning, I’ll be glad to teach him.”

“Well, this is a surprise.”

When Luke’s head snapped up she followed his gaze, and they stared into the mocking eyes of Axel Strange.

“You wouldn’t be Kate Middleton, would you?” Axel asked as he cloaked his face in a seductive smile.

“Yes, I am,” she said, and would have extended her hand had she not glimpsed Luke’s icy regard of the man.

“Ms. Middleton, this is Lieutenant Strange, a detective in my precinct.”

Couldn’t get much colder than that, she figured. “Good evening, Lieutenant,” she said, taking a cue from Luke and sounding as formal as she could.

Her cold greeting made no evident impact on the lieutenant, since he replied, “I’ve wanted to meet you, but, as usual, the boss jumped in before me.”

“Enjoy your meal, Strange,” Luke said, dismissing the man. And rather testily, at that, she thought.

Abruptly, the lieutenant’s smile faded. Then he beamed at her. “Be seeing you, Ms. Middleton.”

Luke continued his meal as if they hadn’t been interrupted. He didn’t comment on the incident, and, since she wasn’t in the habit of sticking her nose into hornets’ nests, she figured she ought to forget it.

“What happened to that gingerbread you’re supposed to be so good at making? Miss Fanny can’t bend over the stove yet, and I haven’t had any gingerbread in six weeks.”

She controlled an impulse to laugh at the childlike petulance in his voice, which belied the tensile strength no one would doubt he possessed. She presented a face as serious as his.

“You said you’d put in a request. Is this a request?”

Long, elegant fingers grasped the handle of his coffee cup, and she imagined those strong, masculine hands on her skin, testing her response to him. His shimmering gaze told her he had discerned her thoughts and had similar ones of his own.

His left hand covered her unsteady fingers. “Am I pleading for gingerbread? Does night follow day? You don’t understand, Kate. I love gingerbread.”

Laughter poured out of her, then, releasing some of the tension that took hold of her whenever she saw him and intensified when she was near him. “Oh, I understand that, all right, but if you had said chocolate…”

His gaze, so intense and studied, unsettled her. If he was trying to find a place for himself in her head, he was doing a good job. “I know men are supposed to love chocolate,” he said, “but not me. I go by my own educated taste buds, and do my own thinking. And that goes for everything.” He leaned forward. “I said everything.”

She wished he’d leave her nerves alone. What a blessing he couldn’t see them. At best, they must look like hair teased to a frazzle by some foolhardy hairdresser. She told herself she’d feel better if she knew she had the same effect on him. He smiled, and she dared to open herself to him for just one moment and squeezed his fingers, knowing that her alarm at her behavior had to be mirrored on her face.

“Don’t move so fast, Luke. I’m not there yet.”

He smiled a slow smile, his eyes brimming with the secrets of the ages. “If I ever moved slower, I don’t remember it. Trust me, I’m taking my time, and it’s as clear as springwater that you’re doing the same.”

She diverted her gaze from the eyes that seemed to invade her soul and focused on the pink dogwood blossoms that adorned their table. “I wish I had your self-assurance, Luke. You know where you’re going, and exactly how to get there.”

The long fingers of his left hand stroked his chin in a slow, graceful movement, and he perused her as though searching for some truth in her. An expression of hopefulness flashed across his face—or so she thought, because the man concealed his emotions. She couldn’t help squirming under his scrutiny.

“Luke, you have to stop doing this to me. I know it’s not your intention to make me uncomfortable, but I feel as if you have me under a 4000x-lens microscope.”

“Sorry. I…Try not to second-guess me, Kate. I know how to be rude, if I care to, but I can’t imagine myself being discourteous to you.”

“Then what—”

“I was trying to figure out what you see in me that makes you think I know exactly what I want and how to get it. There aren’t many men I’d say that about.”

She didn’t believe he’d used that ruse to get his ego stoked, so she told him truthfully. “It’s the impression you give me. You’re a man in complete command. I’d trust you with my life anytime and anywhere.”

Could it have been pain that flashed so briefly in his eyes? A frown darkened his countenance. “Don’t ever put complete trust in any mortal. Save that for God. I’m human, Kate, and I have mortal frailties.”

“But you seem un…unflappable.”

Again, a shadow crossed his face, and when he hooded his eyes, she knew that if he had an Achilles’ heel, she’d come close to it. A long pregnant silence held a tension of its own. She waited, certain that his response would give her a clue as to who he was.

“I learned a few years ago not to let anything stress me out,” he said in a voice that had a ring of finality. “I do what I can, and let the rest go.”

Kate didn’t want their evening to end, though her mind told her she shouldn’t spend so much time with him. But he was like a flame seducing a moth, both tonic and irritant. Being with him soothed her, yet fired her nerves, relaxed, yet energized her. She loved being with him, though a rawness seeped in when he left her. At times, like right then, he made her feel like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle placed in its proper niche, like cold fingers greeting the comfort of fur-lined gloves.

“I’d like some more coffee, please,” she told the waiter, prolonging their time together.

“So would I,” Luke said.

When Luke stared straight ahead, his left eyelid narrowed in a squint. She turned around and saw the lieutenant approaching their table.

“Just wanted to say good night, Ms. Middleton. Hope to see you again soon,” he said as if Luke were not there.

She hated rudeness, but she didn’t see how she could respond without being discourteous to Luke, so she said nothing. The man plastered a smile on his face and walked on.

This time, she couldn’t dismiss the incident. “What’s going on between you two, Luke?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but the way his jaw worked told her he wasn’t as unfazed as he’d have her think. “Until tonight, I’d have said nothing was going on between us. Now I’m not so sure. Are you interested in him?”

She glared at him. “I don’t know the man.”

He motioned for their waiter. “Something tells me you will. Shall we go?”

His deep, vibrant voice and his apparent certainty reminded her of her father, and she fought to hide the pain that thinking of him caused her, pain that plowed through her at the thought of him—a proud exemplary citizen brought to his knees. She forced a smile for Luke’s benefit.

Luke braced his right elbow against the wall beside Kate’s front door and supported his head with his right hand. Kate seemed flustered looking up at him, and he wished she’d get used to him.

“Kate, I like being with you. If you’ll tell me what I do that makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop it.”

Her eyes widened, but he didn’t care if he’d startled her. She ought to expect a man to enjoy looking at her. At the inquiring expression on her face, he added, “I’m a protector, Kate. It’s my nature. Don’t be afraid of me.”

Slowly, she lowered her long lashes, hiding her feelings from him. He knew what she felt, though, because the rising temperature of her body heat warmed up her perfume and released it to enthrall his senses. Her captivating aura swirled around him. She opened her oval eyes, warm brown orbs that promised heaven to a man, and he swallowed his breath. He’d better get out of there before he did something he’d regret.

He’d taken an oath that if he was ever again personally responsible for a woman’s safety, he wouldn’t let that woman care for him and place her trust in him. Never again. The burden of responsibility for another person’s life was a heavy one, and if that person loved a man and believed in him above all other men, the load was that much more onerous. His head told him to keep a lot of space between them, but she had a way about her that made a man want to explore her very essence.

He straightened up and flicked back his hat. “When can I expect my gingerbread?” That ought to purge the atmosphere of tension.

She tossed her head in what he recognized as an affirmation of her dignity. “I’ll…uh…I’ll let you know.”

How it happened, he couldn’t say, but his left hand suddenly rested on her shoulder, and he didn’t move it. “I want a definite answer.”

Without moving a muscle or blinking her eyes, as alert as a sentry on duty, she stared at him a full minute. “Impatience has buried a lot of men.”

Well, she wasn’t going to disconcert him, and he refused to let her know how she affected him, so he forced an ambiguous smile. “You bet. And I don’t expect to join them.”

He let his thumb graze softly over her bottom lip. “Thanks for your company. I’ll be around if you need me.”

The key in his hand caught his gaze, and—careful to avoid looking at the flickering heat in her eyes—he opened her door, handed her the key, and walked off while he had the strength.

“Luke!”

He stopped, swung around and waited. He did not need temptation right then. “What is it, Kate?”

She seemed to hesitate, as though uncertain of her next move. “I was…uh…thinking I could make the gingerbread Friday night, and maybe we could—”

He interrupted her, not allowing her a chance to say something they’d have to deal with. “And could I come over Friday night and get it? I’d planned to spend the weekend with my brother and sister-in-law down in North Carolina, but if you’re going to give me gingerbread, I’ll stop by on my way out of town.”

Her demeanor said she’d meant for them to make an evening of it, as he’d suspected, but if she was disappointed, she didn’t let him see it.

She held up both hands, palms out. “Please don’t let me disturb your plans. I just thought…”

He walked back to her. “Like me, you want one thing, but you’ve been there and you don’t think you want to go that route again. You’ve signaled to me more than once that you don’t want to get involved with me. Whatever your reason, you’re very wise, because it isn’t a good idea.”

“I know we can’t have it both ways,” she said. “Just…just come by the store on Friday, and I’ll have it there for you.”

She was so close, so alluring. He stared down at her, accepting his punishment. Then he shook his head, wondering where his attraction to her would take him. Frustration seeped into him, tugging at his insides, and he kissed her cheek and walked away.

I’m going to stay away from that brother, Kate promised herself as she watched the door of the lobby swing shut behind him. All I need is to fall for a guy who has everything a woman wants and is dead set on keeping it to himself. Once is enough for me. From now on, it’s cool Kate.

The next afternoon, as she shelved a new shipment of books, the door of her store opened and Lieutenant Strange strutted through it. Kate was sure she’d lost her bottom lip.

“Hi,” he greeted like a friend of long standing. “How’re things? Thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing.”

She told herself to smile and be gracious, that as a businesswoman, she didn’t need enemies. Somehow she managed it, though it was difficult with Luke’s frown mirrored in her mind’s eye.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” she said, uncomfortable with the cool tenor of her greeting, which was at odds with her natural warmth and friendliness. She wondered if his smile was as practiced as it seemed, whether she looked at the man with Luke’s eyes. Some charmer, she decided, as he treated her to a strong dose of male charisma. A tall, polished man with reasonably good looks and a daunting uniform to cover up whatever flaws he had, he should have presented a more commanding picture. Still, she’d seen worse.

His nasal tone got her attention. “I said, let me give you a hand with that.”

A refusal sat on the tip of her tongue, but falling rows of books took care of the matter. She couldn’t move unless he helped, and she watched, exasperated, as Axel Strange wormed his way into her life, putting her firmly in his debt.

“Let me take care of it,” he said again, removing his jacket and rubbing his hands together as if he were about to get a mouthwatering bite of thick, juicy steak. You’d think he was glad the books almost knocked me over, she thought with not a little annoyance. He piled the books on the floor, releasing her from the burden of bracing the shelves with her back, and had started shelving them when Luke walked into the store.

Chapter 3

Kate glanced toward the door when she heard it open, and a wave of apprehension swept through her. What a time for Luke to walk in! She hoped he’d realize she hadn’t encouraged Axel. She wanted to meet him as he headed toward her, but if she did, he or Axel might consider that a statement of sorts, and it wouldn’t have been. It didn’t surprise her that Luke stopped short when he saw Axel, his face bearing all the warmth of an iceberg, and that his entire body took on a predatory hostile posture. She waited, wondering what would happen when Axel realized Luke was standing little more than a yard from him.

“I assumed you signed out for half a day’s vacation leave, Lieutenant,” Luke said, his voice dark and overlaid with disgust.

Axel’s head snapped up, and the stack of books he’d picked up fell back to the floor. The careless smile he struggled to paste on his face didn’t quite make it. He reminded her of a bad actor trying to play Macbeth.

“Well?” This time there was no mistaking Luke’s assertion of authority. “I don’t recall seeing your report on that arson case that you should have put on my desk no later than five o’clock yesterday.”

“Aw, give a guy a break, boss. The lady needed a hand.” Axel put his hands in his pockets and let his gaze sweep the store. Then he moved his head to one side and backed away several feet. “I don’t see your desk around here anywhere.”

Luke narrowed his left eye. “If what I did was any of your business, you’d be the captain. I want to see you in my office in twenty minutes.” He turned to leave, seemed to remember her presence and walked back to her.

“I’m sorry, Kate, but I can’t permit the willful disregard of precinct rules. I’ll be in touch.”

She couldn’t fault him, but if he and Axel had to play one-upmanship, she wished they’d leave her out of it. Axel resumed the shelving the minute the door closed behind Luke, obviously attempting to impress her with his indifference to his superior’s command, and she wouldn’t tolerate it.

“Lieutenant, don’t continue that, please. I appreciate your wanting to help, but I’ll shelve the remainder myself.”

“He’s just jealous. He can’t do a thing to me.”

Annoyed at the man’s impertinence, she took the books from his hand. “That may be, but if you’re going to disrespect your own rank, please do it someplace else. One expects more from a lieutenant.”

He covered his icy stare so quickly that she doubted having seen it. “Just trying to be of service, ma’am,” he said, spreading his hands in affected humility. “I’ll call you, and we can get together.”

“Goodbye, Lieutenant Strange.” He didn’t seem all bad, though she had a suspicion that he would go to great limits to irritate Luke and get the better of him. She didn’t want to be caught between them, but until the man gave her concrete reasons to avoid him, she had at least to be civil. It didn’t escape her that he left the store with less of a swagger than when he entered. Nobody had to tell her she hadn’t heard the end of it.

Luke leaned back in his desk chair and waited. He had to control the urge to pace the floor, because Axel Strange could misconstrue that as nervousness if he walked in and saw it. Axel had a way of showing his disdain for authority by walking past Luke’s secretary and entering his office door without knocking for permission. Anyway, he wasn’t nervous, just so mad he could barely wait to let the man know how close he was to endangering his job.

Nineteen minutes. One more, and he’d give him a week’s walking leave. The door opened and he stared at Axel Strange, his hands up as though in surrender and his face wreathed in smiles.

“You believe in living on the edge, don’t you? You know what happens to detectives caught loafing when they’re on duty, and you know the penalty is even stiffer for officers. You’re entitled to three warnings in the course of your career.”

Axel’s sharp intake of breath betrayed his fear that he might have gone too far. “You…you’re not serious, are you?”

Luke swung his fountain pen in rhythmic taps on his desk. “You’re the one who’s not serious. Tell me why you shouldn’t have an official warning? Suppose other officers ignored the rules. What would you recommend for them?”

“Look, man, I was just passing by, and—”

“Can that. You were on your knees, shelving books.”

He knew the minute Axel decided to go on the attack. “What I did was nothing. Let’s get to the real problem. You’re afraid I’ll muscle in on your turf. If she wants me, I’m going for her, and your threats won’t deter me for a second.”

“You’re bordering on insubordination.”

Axel raised his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. “It’s your word against mine.”

Luke allowed himself a hard, cold smile. “Right. How many warnings have you had?”

“None.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable.

“I wonder how that happened,” Luke said under his breath. Aloud he said, “Be careful you don’t get three more.”

Axel lunged toward the desk, and then caught himself, his breathing accelerated and fear glistening in his eyes. “You wouldn’t!”

Luke continued tapping his Mont Blanc pen. “I just did. Next time you get out of line, be sure it isn’t with me. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.” If he’d let him get away with it, he’d be impossible to control.

He hadn’t expected Axel’s brazen pursuit of Kate. The man usually fought more deviously. Not that he planned to engage him. If Kate’s suspicions proved valid that her in-laws had hired a man, perhaps more than one, to ruin her business or to frighten her into closing it, she’d need his protection. And he couldn’t stay on his toes if burdened with an overactive libido.

The next day he parked in front of Kate’s bookstore and left the motor running to make certain he got out of there in a hurry. He wanted to get to Caution Point in time for dinner, and it was already five-thirty. He also didn’t want too much of Kate’s company. She had a way of easing herself into him, revving up his engine and messing around in his head, and she did it with the smoothness of a falcon winging toward the clouds.

“Did you remember my gingerbread?” he asked when she greeted him. He tried not to see the warmth in her flawless complexion, or the temptation of her large, oval, brown eyes and sensuous lips. Everything about her promised him the moon, if he’d just take it. Her smile, so warm and natural, sent fire skittering through him, and he feared she’d hear his pounding heart.

“I hope it’s as good as Miss Fanny’s,” she said. “I’ve been making it since I was little.”

“Not to worry. If it’s gingerbread, I eat it. I’ll be out of town over the weekend, so here’s my cell-phone number in case you need me.” Or, in case you’d like to talk with me, his conscience jeered. He thought for a minute. “Try to close up earlier tomorrow night—say, seven-thirty, along with the other merchants on this block. Trick the criminals.”

She promised she would, and he left, though it cost him more willpower than he would have imagined needing. As he drove away, he glanced at the store and saw her standing at the door. He’d noticed on other occasions that she always watched him leave her, and he wondered what it meant.

Kate knew she watched him because she loved the rhythm of his long strides, seemingly carefree. Taking that at face value could get her into difficulty, she knew, because Luke Hickson was not a happy-go-lucky man. She’d learned, too, that his eyes had a crinkle and a glint that could fool her into thinking he was about to break into a smile. But she knew she’d better wait until he actually laughed. That crinkle and glint could get a person into trouble.

She set the buzzer and went into her office. Business was slow, and she had to create some excitement. She wanted the store to become a place where people hung out, a kind of cultural center. She’d thought of putting two round, marble-top tables in the front and serving coffee, but discarded the idea. With one cup of coffee and a magazine, a person could occupy a table for hours. A reading group. She’d sponsor one, and give the members a fifteen-percent discount on books.

She bit into a piece of gingerbread. If Luke said he’d tasted better, she wouldn’t believe him. She posted a sign-up sheet on the wall to enroll customers in the reading group and answered the door.

“How may I help you?” she asked the woman, a stranger.

The woman produced a business card. “My first romance novel is just out, and I was wondering if you’d like me to sign your stock.”

Her stock! She had three copies of Duckie’s Love Gone Wild, and if she sold one of them, autographed or not, she’d be lucky. With its hideous cover, customers didn’t even turn it over to read the blurb. She sympathized with the woman, who had to feel terrible about that cover, so she gave her a chair and brought her a bottle of lemonade. If only the woman would drink it, so she wouldn’t see her getting the books from the bottom shelf in the section next to Horror and Different Strokes, a euphemism for same sex.

“You only have three?” the author asked. “This is fabulous. You’ve sold all the rest. I suppose you’ll order some more?”

Kate made it a policy not to lie except to save somebody from excruciating pain, and she nearly shouted for joy when the buzzer rang and she didn’t have to answer. That joy was short-lived, however, when she saw Axel Strange.

She introduced him to the author, hoping to divert his attention from her, but he had charm enough for both women. And, to her chagrin, he was the first person to sign up for the reading group, and she immediately lost interest in the idea.

“This is a gas,” he said. “I love reading and discussing books.”

Was that so? Well, he could prove it. “In that case, you’d value a book signed especially for you by the author herself. Ms. Gray is signing books.”

As she’d expected, he made a show of getting the book, engaging the woman in a long conversation about his own writing plans, and questioning her about writing—how she got started, and how long it took to write a book. When Ms. Gray showed signs of exasperation, she called him off.

“She’s only here for a short while, so maybe you’d like to drop her a note.” The woman blew out a long tired breath, quickly signed the remaining two books, thanked Kate, and left. Ms. Gray had evidently had as much of Axel as she could take. Unfortunately for Kate, she was stuck with him.

“How about dinner? The River Café’s the best place around here, but I don’t walk in other men’s footprints, so we’ll go somewhere else.”

Presumptuous, wasn’t he? “Lieutenant, I’m going home to relieve the woman who’s taking care of my son. I’ve had a long day, and I just want to relax.”

He half frowned and half smiled in a chiding way. “Aw, Kate…I can call you Kate, can’t I? You’re not giving me half a chance. Don’t pay any attention to what old Hickson says about me, I’m—”

She cut him off. “Lieutenant, let me tell you that Captain Hickson has never said a word to me about you. Any impression I have of you is one you’ve given me.”

He ignored that barb. “Oh, be a sport. I’m enchanted with you, and you know it.” His face lit up with a smile. “I give a great massage.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You mean, you work two jobs? Does the police department know you moonlight as a masseuse?” His wounded look could only have been feigned, she decided.

She was not going out with Axel Strange. Might as well be straightforward. “Lieutenant Strange, I’m sorry, but I’m not going out with you.”

A smile quickly erased his suddenly cold expression, causing her to wonder whether he lacked substance. “At least you didn’t say never. Next time, okay?”

“Good night.” She almost asked him to wait until she locked up, but thought better of it. If you gave Axel Strange an inch, he’d take a mile.

Since there hadn’t been a customer in the last half hour, she figured she might as well close the store. She put the day’s receipts in the safe, flicked off the lights, stepped out of the front door, and locked it.

“Give me your keys, lady.”

Oh, Lord, not again. Fear streaked through her, but she steadied her nerves. She knew her life might depend on her staying calm. “There aren’t any keys to this store,” she lied. “My security contractor has to open it from his computer.”

“I’m talking about your house keys, and hurry up.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice too strong to be hers, “but I don’t have the house keys with me. I leave them with the superintendent, because she takes care of my…my place.” She looked him in the eye, hoping to convince him.

“Don’t give me all that crap. I mean, the keys to your house in Biddle, and I want them this minute.” He brandished something in his coat pocket that bore the shape of a handgun.

She glimpsed the squad car as it turned the corner, its high beam headlights piercing the twilight, and dashed toward the middle of the street. The car screeched to a halt, and Officer Cowan jumped out. The man raced off down the street.

“What’s the matter?” Cowan yelled loudly. He had a hand on each of her arms.

She explained. “I don’t have to tell you how glad I am to see your car. The man had just started to get rough.”

Cowan yanked off his hat and scratched his head. “He’s blocks from here now. I’ll drop you home, but I want a description. Come by the precinct tomorrow before you open the store and give me the details.”

As Cowan drove her home, she described the man as best she could, but she didn’t mention her fear that the man knew Luke’s moves and considered her vulnerable in Luke’s absence.

At that moment, Luke was assuring himself that he could keep Kate at arm’s length, enjoy her friendship, and leave it at that. He stopped at Dillards in Elizabeth City and bought a CD of Burl Ives songs for Amy, who had just discovered the late folksinger, and a toy rabbit for Marc. Amy didn’t like sharing her own rabbit with Marc, but she loved the child so much that she didn’t want to deny him anything. He bought a colorful set of Bambi and His Friends for Todd. The boy reminded him of Marcus as a small child, exacting a price for his cooperation. If Todd had to take a bath, he wanted as many animals in the tub with him as possible.

His mood shifted as he drove toward Caution Point. He’d been an uncle, first to his wife’s nieces and nephews, and now to Amy, Marc and Todd. He loved all of them, but he was forty-two years old and didn’t have children of his own. He parked in front of his brother and sister-in-law’s home—the one place where his cares always seemed to take wings, as though trouble was unwelcome there—but this time a cold loneliness seeped into him. He sat in the car for some minutes after parking, willing himself to put on a cheerful visage. Finally, he got out of the car, breathed deeply and energized himself with the clean fresh smell of ocean air. He looked across Ocean Avenue at the dogwood trees adorned in pink and white blossoms, giving their trunks and limbs up to the will of the soft spring breeze. Birds chirped from the branches of the crab-apple tree beside his car, and he felt his loneliness roll off him. Amanda and the children greeted him at the door. With Amy holding one of his hands and Marc tugging on the other one, he followed Amanda to the back porch.

“Where’s Marcus?”

“In Portsmouth. He should be getting home any minute. You didn’t see him today?”

He stared at her. “Good grief. I told him I’d have lunch with him. I completely forgot it.”

She looked at him as though he’d changed faces. “You forgot an appointment?” He understood her surprise. He had a reputation for having a memory like an elephant. She sat down, seemingly oblivious to having Todd examine her face and ears and yank on her hair and clothing. “Luke, you’re either working too hard on something or someone has your undivided attention.”

He couldn’t help laughing. Amanda knew him better than the men who worked with him eight hours a day. “It’ll soon be time to open up my place on the Sound, and that guarantees me some lazy weekends for the next four months.” He reached for Todd. “Come here, fellow. It’s time you and I got to be good friends.”

The doorbell rang three times in rapid succession, and pain shot through him as Marc and Amy ran squealing to the door and Amanda broke off her sentence in the middle and followed them. He shook it off. After years of a lean life, his brother deserved all the happiness he’d found with Amanda and their children.

“I didn’t realize you expected to have lunch here…this evening,” Marcus said to Luke after they embraced each other.

“Sorry about that, but I got into a set-to with Axel again, and had to straighten him out. I forgot about eating.”

“That guy knows how to ring your bell.”

Luke shrugged. “One day, he’ll take it too far. How’s it going at the factory?”

Marcus glanced at his wife, his eyes afire with love for her. “Things couldn’t be better. How long you staying?”

Luke stretched out his long legs as Amy joined him in the swing, put his arms around his niece and gently rocked. “I’m going straight from here to work Monday morning, unless—”

“Great. Maybe we can get in some fishing while you’re here.”

After dinner, his cell phone rang as he and Marcus cleaned the kitchen. “Captain Hickson.”

He hadn’t expected that Cowan would have to call him about Kate, but he’d told the sergeant to keep him posted. As a detective, he’d learned to avoid the pitfalls of It might have been. He listened to Cowan’s report and wondered whether he ought to go back to Portsmouth.

“Nothing you can do, Luke. The man ran away when he saw the squad car, and we couldn’t find him, but I turned that corner just in time.”

“Continue to patrol that store. Good job, Sergeant.”

“What was that about?” Marcus asked him. “Sounds like she’s more to you than a professional responsibility,” he added after hearing Luke’s story. “If she is, I’m happy for you. It’s time you got some joy in your life. Who is she?”

Luke stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and looked toward the garden. “If she wasn’t somebody’s target—at least that’s what she thinks—I’d go for her, but I can’t let myself in for that again. I keep thinking of Eunice. She thought nothing could happen to her, that I’d keep her safe, but when she needed me, I couldn’t be there. Because she’d called me rather than 9-1-1, I lost her. I can’t live through that again. A woman loves me and believes I’m larger than life, bigger than anything that can happen to her, and calls for me because she trusts me more than any other man—more than those who could have saved her.”

Marcus stared at him, his eyes wide in astonishment. “You care for her.”

“Could be. I’m not sure. It’s happened so fast I can’t figure out where the heck it came from.” He eyed Marcus, who’d begun to laugh. “What’s so funny, man?”

“You are. Have you forgotten? This thing gets you right away, and when it grabs you, you might as well quit running.”

“If anybody can attest to that, it’s you,” Luke said dryly. “I never saw a man run so hard from pure heaven as you did.”

He’d never been able to figure out how Marcus could look so innocent when he was about to wade into a person. He waited for the blow, and Marcus let him have it. “Having witnessed that, brother, it seems to me you wouldn’t waste your time running. Trust me, it’s useless, anyway. You are not responsible for Eunice’s death, so quit using that as an excuse to persecute yourself. And mark my words, if this woman gets into you, either get out of her way or enjoy it.” He winked. “I suggest the latter.”

“You’re loaded with wisdom tonight. Excuse me while I make a phone call.”

“Sure thing. What’s her name?”

“Kate,” he called over his shoulder, and strode down the hall to his room.

He dialed Kate’s home phone number and paced back and forth in his room, waiting for her to answer. Where the heck was she? Strung out with anxiety, he redialed to be sure he’d used the right number.

“Hello.”

“Randy. This is Captain Luke. Where’s your mother?”

“She’s out back. Captain Luke, I have to make my first deliveries Monday.”

He was anxious to speak with Kate, and he hoped his impatience didn’t show, because getting the boy’s confidence was proving more difficult than he’d expected. “You’ve done well, Randy. I’m proud of you.”

“You are?”

“You bet I am,” he said truthfully. “And you’ll be a fine role model for the boys in your group.”

The small voice appeared uncertain. “I guess I have to try. They seem to like me.”

So that was it. All the blustering, preening and bad manners were a cover for insecurity. Maybe he’d have to spend more time with the child.

“Randy, of course the boys like you, and so do all of us officers.”

“You, too?”

He stared at the phone. “Son, the reason I insist you obey is because I want you to grow into a fine man, one people will admire and respect.”

“Like you?”

He hesitated, but only for a second. “I’d be pleased if you wanted to be like me.”

A long silence ensued, but he waited. “Gee. Okay. I’ll get my mom.”

“Luke. What a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

“Cowan told me what happened. Did you get a good look at the man?”

She described the man who accosted her and added, “He wore glasses, but they might have been a disguise. Also, he wasn’t the man who locked Randy and me in the store. This one was older and rougher. Robbing my store wasn’t his priority. He was after my house keys.”

None of it made sense to him, and its strangeness increased his concern. “I want you to put alarms on your door and windows, but we’ll take about that when I get back. Is your garden fenced?”

She told him it was, and eagerness laced her voice when she added, “When are you coming back?”

Was she telling him she wanted to see him? Oh, hell, he had to stop thinking about her in that way. “I’m debating that right now. I have a feeling that hood knows me, and that he’s seen us together, because he gave me forty-five minutes to get way out of town. And he didn’t wait till dark to make his move. Did it occur to you that even though you closed more than an hour early, he was there waiting for you?”

He hadn’t reasoned it out before, and now a pain scissored his belly. Simple robbery wasn’t the man’s motive, and until he knew what the guy wanted he’d be handicapped in his efforts to catch him.

“Be careful, Kate. I…Look, I don’t want anything to happen to you and Randy. Keep him close to you this weekend. Kate—”

Her voice, soft and sweet, could tempt him to do things he didn’t want to do. “What is it, Luke?”

“I’ll call you when I get back there. Take good care.” A strange, indefinable emptiness suffused him, but he hung up without telling her he wanted to see her right then, that he feared for her well-being, and would go to any lengths to protect her.

“Is she okay?” Marcus asked when Luke joined him in the family room. It had been Amanda’s living room before Marcus renovated the house and added a wing.

“Yeah. She’s fine. I wish I could get a handle on this thing. She’s vulnerable, and it occurs to me that I’d better put a man on Randy.”

“Who’s Randy?”

“Her seven-year-old son. He’s wayward, and there’s no telling what he’ll get into.”

“Send him down here when school’s out. We’ll soften him up.”

“Thanks. We’ll see about that. Look, I think I’d better head out of here tomorrow morning. I don’t like anything about the report Kate and Cowan gave me. I’d better check on her.”

“Sure,” Marcus said, a grin easing over his face. “And give her a kiss for me while you’re at it.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, anxiety for Kate fighting for supremacy over his desire for her. “You’re getting rather fanciful.”

Marcus laughed. “Telling you like you told me, just like it is, brother. Get it together. Tell her you need her, and if she’s reluctant, drag out the famous LSH charisma and change her mind. Man, you’re supposed to be knock-’em-dead irresistible. You’re ruining your reputation.”

Luke’s left eyebrow arched. “I wouldn’t mind if you kept thoughts like that to yourself. I don’t need to hear this from you. I get enough of it from that gang I work with. Axel Strange is preoccupied with the subject of me and women.”

Marcus shrugged. “Forget about Axel. A loser. The guy reminds me of a bullfrog on a rainy night croaking for the hell of it.”

Worried as he was, Luke laughed. “Well said. See you in the morning.”

Now who could that be at eight o’clock Saturday morning, and where was Tex, the doorman? Remembering Luke’s words of caution the previous night, Kate opened the peephole. Anxiety, joy, fear, and eagerness battled for possession of her nerves, set her belly to churning and her heart thumping. She slipped the lock and threw open the door.

“Luke…Who…Where? I thought you were in North Carolina.” She sought to calm herself in the face of his nonchalance and in the absence of any obvious emotion on his part. From the expression in his eyes, she could have been a broom standing there.

“I asked you to call me if you needed me, but you didn’t. I had to see that you’re all right. It’s my job.”

Her joy at seeing him unexpectedly, at knowing he’d wrecked his weekend to see her, withered like wild dandelions beneath a shower of weed killer.

Her gaze caught the fist of his left hand, opening and closing in rapid succession as if he were keeping time or pumping air, and she looked back into his eyes, still casual and indifferent. If she had the nerve, she’d…

“I’ll bet you haven’t had breakfast, so why don’t you come on in and have some coffee?”

When his lips parted, she knew he intended to refuse. She hadn’t planned it, but then something in her reached out to him. She took his hand and tugged at it, displaying an aggressiveness that she knew surprised him.

“Come on. It’s Saturday, and you have the day off. You can afford to waste half an hour with me, and I make great Columbian coffee.”

He let her hold his hand as he followed her to the kitchen, and she doubted he would have gone so docilely if she hadn’t staggered him with her forwardness. The feel of his big hand in hers filled her head with intimate ideas about him, and fired her body like torched gasoline. He didn’t caress her fingers, merely let her hold his hand, so she had to release it.

He sipped the coffee without taking his gaze from her eyes. “I’m not in the habit of doing what I don’t want to do.”

Uh-oh. Here it comes, she thought. “I don’t understand,” she said, though she knew he hadn’t wanted to enter her apartment.

“I think you do. I had my reasons for speaking with you at your door. For both our sakes, don’t test my attraction to you. You may catch me when it’s at fever pitch, and the temptation to howl outweighs everything else.” He set the cup on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be in touch.”

She caught herself twisting her hands and stuck them behind her, praying he hadn’t noticed. Best to brazen it out. She laid back her shoulders, tossed her head and smiled.

“As far as I’m concerned, Luke, you’d have to do a lot to unravel your character. Besides, you can’t turn a Town Car into a Jeep.”

She couldn’t figure out the message in those fiery gray eyes, but his words settled it. “No, but you can trash it. Thanks for the coffee. I’ll find my way out.”

He strode toward the short hallway, stopped and turned. “Where’s Randy?”

She stood straighter, intent on his knowing that nothing and no one got the better of her. “Randy’s painting. It’s one thing I don’t have to urge him to do.”

“Take care.” He walked swiftly, almost as though he scented a prize.

She hated seeing women stand akimbo with their hands on their hips, but she did it then, frustration gripping every muscle of her body. Disgusted with herself, she threw up her hands and headed out back to her garden.

She paused on the porch. Why was she so riled up? She didn’t want to become involved with him or any other man, did she? Her knees nearly buckled as the truth pierced her thoughts. She wanted him. She’d made a play for him because she’d recognized the vulnerability in him. He saw what she’d done, and let her know he didn’t like it. Maybe she was reaching for a thin reed, but she was thirty-eight years old, already past her prime, and had never been in the arms of a man who put her interests, her fulfillment and her well-being above his own. Luke Hickson would do that, and she wanted him. Deflated and saddened when she recalled his disinterested behavior minutes earlier, she reminded herself of the times when he’d behaved otherwise.

“Why can’t I have him, if he wants me?” she asked. She looked at herself in the hall mirror, at the tiny lines at the edges of her still beautiful eyes and the slight creases across her forehead. I’ll take the consequences.

Chapter 4

Luke got in his car, drove around the block and stopped. He had to get a grip on his emotions. He rolled down the window and let the crisp, bracing wind bruise his face. Memories of the peace he’d known with Eunice flooded his thoughts. Their tranquil moments, easy communication and quiet loving came back to him, strong, visionlike, as if it had happened the day before. But was that what a man needed—contentment, a sameness that neither exercised the mind nor the emotions? Yet, it had been good in its way. Eunice hadn’t been imaginative about life, loving or much else, but she’d always been there for him. And he’d loved her. How different his feelings for Kate! She challenged him, excited and galvanized him. Sometimes he had an urge to bend her to his will and, at others—like this morning—he wanted to open himself to her, let her have her way with him and watch her fly.

He turned the key in the ignition and eased away from the curb. A whole day on his hands. His heart told him he should be spending it with her, but for as long as she was under his protection he meant to stick to his guns and stay away from her.

He hadn’t done it on purpose, but he found himself driving in the direction of her store.

He glanced to the right as he neared it, and slammed on the brakes. Yellow and black chalk marks defaced the door and window of her store. He got out and examined them, searching for a symbol, because he was becoming increasingly more certain that Kate’s in-laws had no part in the crimes against her.

He couldn’t let her face that ugliness, so he drove to the housing projects just off Frederick Boulevard, got out, and knocked on Rude Hopper’s door. He could depend on Rude for just about anything, including the man’s vast knowledge of “the street” and what went on there. He’d gotten Rude’s younger son away from a gang and into the Police Athletic League, where he exhibited leadership abilities, and he was now college bound. Rude couldn’t do enough for him.

“I’ll take a couple of friends over there, and it’ll be good as new before noon,” Rude told him after hearing about the vandalism. “You putting somebody there to watch the place?”

“I’ll have a guard on duty from now on. Thanks, brother, I owe you one.”

Rude shook his head. “Not me. I’m the one who’s in your debt, and I always will be. We’ll get right to it. And if I pick up on anything, I’ll let you know.”

Luke thanked him. Kate opened at twelve on Saturdays, so perhaps he’d saved her the shock of seeing the ugliness. He used his cell phone to call a junior detective and assign him to watch the store. That done, he drove out to Eunice’s grave, placed some dogwood blossoms at the headstone, said a prayer and walked back to his car. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he felt lighter than he had in years, and he didn’t question it. He picked up a stone and sent it twirling through the air as a sense of release washed over him. Amanda had begged him to try to bury the past, but he’d punished himself with guilt, and had never attempted to forget. He wondered if he could, and if Eunice had forgiven him for not being there when she needed him. For once, remembering didn’t hurt so much.

When he went to bed that night, he gave himself points for refraining from calling Kate, but he could still smell her perfume, that spicy floral scent that stayed with him for hours after he’d been near her. Fit to bite nails, he swore at himself when images of her heated his loins, but then a strange peace flooded his being and, with a little effort, he put desire behind him.

He phoned her the next morning, told her about the vandalism and that he’d had the evidence of it cleaned off. She thanked him, and he asked himself why she didn’t protest his protectiveness, as she usually did. That was something he had to watch.

Kate got to her store shortly before twelve and let out a deep breath when she saw nothing untoward, but as she unlocked the door she noticed the squad car sitting across the street and walked over to it.

“Are you stationed here, or just resting?” she asked the officer.

“Ma’am, Second Precinct detectives don’t rest during working hours unless they want another job. I’m posted here.”

“Well…thank you,” was all she could manage. She went in her office and made coffee. Then she took a cup to the officer, who accepted it gratefully.

“Does everybody get this kind of service?” she asked him.

He took a few sips of coffee, and she could see how much he enjoyed it. “This is good stuff, and I was dying for some. Thanks a lot. Oh, yes,” he said, remembering her question. “We do this whenever it’s necessary. Just ignore me and go on about your business.”

She didn’t know what to make of Luke, protective yet distant. She wasn’t a lamb born the day before, so he couldn’t tell her that every citizen in Portsmouth could count on that level of protection. She was grateful that she hadn’t seen her store defaced and that she didn’t have to look over her shoulder every minute, but she hated that when men got interested in her they insisted on enclosing her in some kind of shell, as though she were a fragile embryo. She thought she’d left that behind when she buried Nathan. Still, she wouldn’t dare complain because Randy needed her safe and healthy. It hung in the mirror of her mind like a brilliant Picasso painting that she was all her son had.

By the end of the day, three more people had signed up for the reading club, among them two sexy young women. If providence was kind to her, Axel would flip over one of them. The likelihood of that seemed remote, however, when Axel arrived at closing time bringing an embarrassingly large bouquet of red and yellow long-stemmed roses. She loved roses of all colors, and she didn’t have the heart to scold him.

“You like them?” he asked, more pleased with himself than he had a right to be.

She tried to sound moderately disinterested. “I love roses. Is there a woman anywhere who doesn’t?”

Self-satisfaction radiated from every part of him, and she knew he thought he’d scored big with her. “If I know anything,” he boasted, “it’s how to treat a woman, and especially one like you.”

The door opened and Randy bounded in, followed by an off-duty policeman. She didn’t think she’d ever been happier to see her son or anybody else.

“I made my rounds, Mom, and delivered the stuff to all my clients.” He turned to the officer who’d arrived with him. “I did real good, didn’t I? Mom, this is my partner, Officer Jenkins.”

She greeted the officer and shook hands with him, but she couldn’t hide her embarrassment as Jenkins stared with all-knowing eyes from Axel to the oversize bouquet in her hand.

A frown eclipsed Randy’s face as he stared at the flowers. “Where’d you get those, Mom?”

“Officer Strange just gave them to me.”

Randy looked at the man. And looked and looked, while Jenkins watched. She couldn’t help wondering how early in life the male of the species adopted territorial prerogatives. Randy had just served notice that he did not like Axel Strange and didn’t want him around.

“Captain Luke helps me with my lessons,” Randy said. “He’s my friend.”

She would have banished Randy to her office for that piece of one-upmanship, had not Jenkins begun laughing. And the more he laughed, the more he laughed. She squelched a giggle when she noticed that Randy had gone to stand beside Jenkins, and that Axel’s face had become bloated from his ripening anger. Unable to think of a way out of it, she laid the flowers on a table and started toward the office for a vase. “I’d planned to tail you and Randy home, ma’am,” Jenkins said, “but—”

She cut in quickly. “Thanks so much, officer. I’ll be ready as soon as I get a container for these flowers.”

She didn’t know what the three of them said to each other in her absence, and she hardly cared, but she’d forever be grateful to Jenkins. Not that she disliked Axel—she didn’t. But the man didn’t seem capable of modest behavior. She brought out a plastic Chinese-style vase that she’d filled with water, arranged the roses in it, put the vase on the table, and left it there.

“Now the store will have a nice feminine touch,” she said in a gesture to Axel, and thanked him for the roses. But a bunch of flowers, however beautiful and expensive, didn’t purchase her company, and he’d have to learn that.

She’d thought that had ended it until later that evening when Randy had leaned both elbows on her lap, looked up at her, and said, “I don’t like him. Don’t let him come in the store anymore.”

She put an arm around him, loosely because he hated to be petted. “Randy, my store is a public place, and unless people misbehave, I can’t prevent their entering it. That’s the law. Besides, he’s not a bad person.”

“He’s not like Captain Luke and Officer Jenkins, and he doesn’t like for us kids to go to the precinct. I don’t want him to give you any flowers.”

As much as she loved Randy, she couldn’t let him run her life, but he needed assurance that Axel wasn’t important to her. “Don’t worry about him, Randy. He isn’t special to me in any way.”

“He isn’t?”

“No, darling. Not at all.”

“Gee.” Evidently satisfied, he skipped out of the room.

Luke didn’t care much for parties, not even fund-raisers for PAL, but as a principal supporter of the organization he knew that Mrs. Joshua Armstrong, as she liked to be known, would be insulted if he didn’t attend. He dressed in a business suit, arrived around eight-thirty and made certain that his hostess and all of her guests saw him. Then, he went out on the back porch and sat there in the darkness away from the fawning women, small talk and the scent of liquor. Kate filled his thoughts, and he was glad she hadn’t come. If he didn’t see her, he couldn’t break his promise to himself. He closed his eyes and let the night air blow over him, invigorating him.

Kate hadn’t wanted to be the last person to arrive, but she didn’t relish being the first at a party, either. She greeted Mrs. Joshua Armstrong, resplendent in a long, red hostess gown—a throwback to the thirties, Kate thought—and took a look around her. She wished she’d stayed home. Axel Strange was the only person she knew in that huge room filled with Portsmouth’s moneyed class. Having found her way to an opposite corner of the room, she refused the smoked oysters, wines, and liquors that the waiter offered her and opted for a glass of club soda; after all, she didn’t have a designated driver.

“I looked all over for him,” an attractive fortyish woman who stood nearby said to her female companion.

“I asked Mrs. Armstrong if he’d showed up, and she said he was out on the back porch, probably asleep, since he hates parties,” the woman replied.

“Asleep? In that case I wasted my time coming here. I’ve been dying to meet that man. Girl, if I ever get my hands on that hunk, he can look out.”

The snicker that followed would have discouraged most women. “Honey, what have you got that the rest of us don’t have? Luke Hickson is as elusive as quicksilver. Getting that man is about as easy as grabbing a handful of air.”

Kate didn’t wait to hear more.

Suddenly alert, Luke cocked his ear at the sound of footsteps, though he didn’t open his eyes. And then, tongues of fire leaped through him like a roaring furnace, and he braced himself. Waiting. Delicate fingers covered his eyes, barely touching his flesh. He didn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, as he awaited the next move. His breath nearly exploded from his lungs as soft, half-parted lips caressed his own, twin butterflies sipping nectar. When he flicked his tongue against them, asking entrance, he heard a quick gasp, then rapid steps—heaven flying from his grasp. The screen door slammed, and he sprang out of the chair and went after her. She could lie if she wanted to, but he knew the wearer of that perfume. Gone was his reticence, his resolve to leave her alone. She’d whetted his appetite and kicked his libido into high gear, and he knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d caressed every centimeter of her naked flesh and lost himself in her.

He found her in conversation with Axel Strange. “Hello, Kate. Imagine finding you in here.” He nodded to Axel. “Evening, Lieutenant.”

Her smile shone with innocence, but that meant little to him. “You wouldn’t have been a track star at some earlier time, would you?” he asked her.

“What does that mean?” Axel asked, his face clouded with unfriendliness. “Haven’t you noticed the lady and I are in a conversation?”

Luke lifted his shoulder in a careless shrug and pinned Kate with a stare that he didn’t intend her to decipher. “You’ve been deep in this conversation for every bit of twenty seconds.” He winked at her. “Right, Kate? By the way, madame, that’s great perfume you’re wearing. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

He had the pleasure of seeing her blanch and lower her eyes. “What’s the matter, Kate? Having trouble getting your tongue to work?” A grin formed on his mouth, and, to his surprise, he enjoyed her discomfort.

“You’re in a creative mood tonight, Captain. Very imaginative,” she said, though he could tell from the lack of strength in her voice that her heart wasn’t in her little act.

He folded his arms across his chest. “Indeed, I am. Thanks to you.” Then, to emphasize his point, he rimmed his top lip with his tongue and watched her eyes take on a smoldering haze that betrayed her awareness of him. An answering passion slammed into him. He had to get out of there. “Watch yourself, Kate, and stay out of mischief. Good night.”

At home later that night, he sat at his desk shuffling through his mail. Frustrated and piqued that Kate had used Axel as cover for her daring act, he crushed a sheet of paper in his fist and tossed it into the wastebasket. He itched to get his hands on her—even talking to her would be better than nothing—but damned if he’d call her after that cute trick she pulled, kissing him so sweetly and then running away and staging that scene with Strange. All right, so she’d kissed him on an impulse. Why couldn’t she admit it?

An airmail letter with a French stamp. Now what could that be? He read it a second time—an invitation to speak at the INTERPOL conference in Nairobi on ways of identifying drug couriers. His interception of a courier had effectively busted a drug ring, and he’d known the operation had gained international attention, but an invitation from INTERPOL! A detective thought twice before he turned his back on that august international crime-fighting organization. He replied, accepting the invitation, and was about to seal the envelope when he stopped, leaned back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. What would happen to Kate and Randy if he was out of the country for ten days? And why did he care so much? All of a sudden, he could feel her lips on him, his mouth tasted of her, and the scent of her perfume came back to him fresh and strong, dancing around his nostrils and heating his blood. He let out an expletive and reached for the phone.

She should have known Axel would be a problem, though if he realized she’d used him to mislead Luke, he didn’t voice the sentiment.

“I’ll see you home,” he announced when she told him she had to leave.

Not if I can avoid it, she told herself. “Thanks, Lieutenant, but I’m driving. Good night.”

He let her know he had the tenacity of a Brahman bull—not that it surprised her. She didn’t consider him naive or insensitive, but he behaved as if he were, and she’d like to know what he was up to.

“Then I’ll tail you. You’re in my care, and I’ll see you home.”

Like a petulant child’s, his voice began to rise. Rather than let herself be enmeshed in a scene, she said nothing, thanked her hostess and left. Besides, she didn’t enjoy hurting anyone, and Axel didn’t deserve unkindness even though he had a penchant for annoying her.

He followed her as she’d known he would, but he wasn’t going into her house. When she reached home, she got out of her car and walked back to him.

“Thanks, Axel. I’m going in through the garage. Good night.”

The muscles of his jaw worked, and his face took on a harsh veneer. She started back to her car, but he grabbed her arm.

“Be careful, Axel. I don’t like to be touched.”

His nostrils flared. “Do you tell Hickson that?”

She knocked his hand off her arm and looked him in the eye. “Captain Hickson has never grabbed my arm.”

“Have you let him touch you?”

It was none of his business, but she couldn’t resist needling him. “He hasn’t tried to touch me, as you put it.”

His face contorted, and she stepped back, not sure she could trust his self-control. “You want me to believe that? The guy’s the biggest womanizer in Portsmouth.”

If Luke was, she hadn’t seen any evidence of it. She took several steps toward her car. “That’s probably all in your imagination. You can believe what you like.”

“When can I see you again?”

Better get it straight right now, she thought. “You and I are just friends, Lieutenant, and that’s all we can ever be.”

All she could think of as she looked at his teeth, bared in a snarl, was the eternally angry bulldog owned by the next-door neighbor when she was a small child. She’d been scared of that dog, but Axel Strange didn’t perturb her in the least.

“Don’t be too sure of that,” he said. “Lover Boy doesn’t stick with one woman for long. You’ll soon see where you stand.”

She walked back to him, fists clenched and the print of her nails scoring her palms. “Why do you think I’m limited to a choice of you or him? You need to downsize your ego. Good night.” Of all the arrogance! She got in her car, slammed the door and drove into the garage. The guy needed a reality check.

She gave silent thanks when Madge announced that Randy was asleep, pleaded a headache, and left without her usual small talk. Kate went to the refrigerator for a glass of ginger ale, but as she leaned against the kitchen counter sipping the drink, she hardly tasted it. What had gotten into her? She hadn’t meant to do more than greet Luke and spend a few minutes with the one person at the party whose company she would enjoy. But she’d looked at him, his head back, eyes closed, and his face peaceful and sweet. She’d glanced at his long legs stretched out in front of him and at the silky lashes that hid his gray eyes. It had taken less than a second, but she’d seen him there asleep and open to her whims, and her mouth found his. First came a flash of heat, and then alarm shot through her when his lips moved beneath hers, and his tongue asked for entrance into her mouth. Unused to being aggressive with men, she’d fled.

The phone rang and she raced to prevent it from waking Randy, hoping she wouldn’t hear Axel Strange’s voice on the other end.

“Yes?”

“I assume you knew I’d call.”

She sat down and breathed deeply, steadying her nerves. “Why would I know that?”

“Hang it all, Kate,” he said in obvious exasperation, “you wore that perfume the first time I saw you, and you’ve had it on every time I’ve seen you since then. Why did you kiss me?”

The sudden acceleration of her heartbeat frightened her. “Wh…what do…Luke, do you think I’m the only woman who wears that perfume?”

“You were the only one wearing it at Martha Armstrong’s house tonight. Unless you want me at your front door minutes from now, answer me. Why’d you do it?”

“Luke, I’m…tired. Please say good night.”

“If you’re tired, it’s because you had to tussle with Axel. You’ll learn not to play with him. But that’s what you did. You used him, and he’ll make you pay. Why did you kiss me?”

She wasn’t a child that he could back into a corner. “You were there, and I…I wanted to.”

She couldn’t hear his breathing accelerate. “Next time, warn me.”

Flustered because she hadn’t thought he’d find her out, she rubbed her left side with her free hand. “There won’t be a next time.”

His laugh came through the wire harsh and knowing. “Oh, yes, there will. You started it because you know how much I want you, and you’re going to find out how I act when a woman wants me, and what it’s like to kiss me. Count on it.”

“Luke, please. I apologize. Let’s—”

He interrupted. “You what? Don’t hand me any apology, lady. You want me as much as I want you, and from now on you’ll be the one who puts up the off-limits sign. I hadn’t planned it, I didn’t think it wise, and I fought it—”

“There’s no reason for us to get involved. We can just be friends.”

His laugh had the sound of an angry growl. “I tasted you. I want more, and I’m going to have more, with your full and joyful cooperation. I finish what I start.”

“You didn’t start it.”

“That’s because you ran. But you can slow down. I’m through punishing myself.”

Her fingers rubbed her sides, and she paced back and forth. “Luke, I’ve walked that road and, except for Randy, most of what I got was unhappiness. Before we married, my husband said I was the flower of his life, but as soon as he had to tend that flower, he let it wither to nothing. He promised everything wonderful and delivered ten years of misery. What I want is irrelevant. All I need now is peace for Randy and me.”

“That was some other man, not this one. You ought to know that if you kiss a man the way you kissed me, he’s going after you unless he’s got dead nerves and two peg legs.”

She pulled the front bodice of her dress away from her dampened flesh, picked up a magazine that lay on the bed, and fanned rapidly. “Luke, I…You were out there alone with your eyes closed, quiet. In the dark, you seemed so vulnerable, and…helpless. I—”

“That was in your mind, baby. I heard your footsteps coming toward me and smelled that perfume before you opened the screen door. I knew who was kissing me, and I wanted it. Otherwise, it never would have happened.”

Abruptly he changed the subject. “I’m going to Africa in a couple of weeks, and I’m concerned about leaving you and Randy here alone, at the mercy of whoever’s pestering you. I’ll work out a plan, and I want you to follow it and see that Randy does.”

“Luke, I don’t want any more pampering. I’ve had my fill of it.”

“I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but we’re dealing with real crime here, and a determined criminal. If you’re not going to do as I say, tell me right now and I’ll cancel the trip.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

“It’s my duty. Look…I…Have lunch or dinner with me tomorrow. If you’re busy then, let’s make it breakfast. I want to see you.”

He moved like a cyclone, and she could see herself getting caught in the whirling cone of his determination. “You put a twenty-four-hour watch on the store, and Officer Cowan patrols the store regularly, so I don’t see what else I need.”

“We’ll discuss whatever else you need when we’re together tomorrow. Suppose we make a day of it. I’ll be over for breakfast. What time?”

“Should I have a notebook handy?”

“For what?”

“I wouldn’t want to forget what you have to say about what you think I need.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’ll see that you don’t.”

She knew she should end it right there. He excited her as no man ever had, and she knew she’d find all that she longed for with him, but she had a premonition that getting involved with him could bring her more pain than Nathan Middleton had ever caused her.

She ignored her inner voice. “By nine o’clock Randy’s starving,” she said, feeling spineless.

“Then I’ll be there at nine…if it’s all right with you, that is.”

He had a quality of grace, a gentlemanly demeanor, even when, like now, he was overbearing. But she didn’t care that he’d pushed her a little hard; she wanted to see him every bit as much as he wanted to see her.

She swallowed, and had to clear her throat. “It’s fine with me.”

“You sure?”

“If you’re asking if I’m sorry I caved in, I won’t know the answer until after tomorrow, and maybe not even then.”

“That’s right—leave no row unhoed. Nothing like a straightforward answer to keep the record clear. We’ll make a day of it?”

“If Randy doesn’t have a program.”

“Come off it, woman. What kind of program can Randy have that you didn’t arrange? You don’t need an excuse, Kate. If you don’t want to see me, just say no.”

She bristled. “How is it that you’re such a genius at vexing me? If I wanted to say no, I would. I never do anything I don’t want to do. We’re that much alike. And you stop trying to bamboozle me. See you in the morning.”

She could feel the warmth and the enticement of his laughter through the wires, masculine and suggestive—an invitation to madness, a lure that she didn’t want to resist.

“Way to go. I like your tinsel. With you, a man has to stay on his toes, eat his Wheaties and keep his engine fine-tuned. Till tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She stared at the phone until the operator told her to hang up. Gone was her bravery of hours earlier, when she’d parted her lips and kissed him. Shivers plowed through her as she let her mind tease her with visions of the ways in which he’d make her pay.

Luke gazed at the food spread out on Kate’s dining-room table—plenty of everything the Yankees crammed into their stomachs, but not a biscuit in sight.

“Kate, do you know how to make biscuits?”

“Of course I do.”

“And grits and sage sausage and scrambled eggs?”

“Sure.”

“Then—”

“When I start eating that stuff, especially biscuits, I can’t stop, and all of it’s fattening. And don’t tell me I don’t have to start, because I can’t pass up a biscuit. I’ll make some at your place and leave while they’re baking, but not here.”

Her lashes flew up and a soft gasp escaped her when he pulled her nose and winked at her. “I’ll buy that.”

“Where’re we going, Captain Luke?” Randy asked when they’d finished breakfast.

“Wherever your mother wants to go. Hop in the kitchen and help. If she cooks, you help her clean. I’d help, too, but she asked me to repair this table lamp.”

“You’re always telling me what to do.”

Luke put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “If you behave the way you’re supposed to, the only words you’ll hear from me will be praise. Now, into the kitchen.”

Randy dashed toward the kitchen, and he put his attention on the lamp. Not a second alone with her, and how he itched and ached to get his hands on her. Twenty minutes later she reappeared in a red blazer, navy blue miniskirt, and a pair of sandals laced to midcalf. Her hair fell loose and sexily around her shoulders. He crossed his thighs. She had to know what she did to him. He took a pad and pen from his jacket. “What’s the name of that perfume?”

“Fendi.”

He wrote it down. “It’s worth whatever it costs. Ready?”

She nodded. “Could we go look at the boats?”

“You bet. Ever been to the naval base? It’s the biggest in the country.”

He loved to see her smile, her face sparkling, and the eyes that reminded him of a lover’s moon in spring. “I haven’t been there yet, but I’d been planning to take Randy.”

“Can we get on a boat, Captain Luke?”

It surprised him that Randy took his hand as they boarded The Carrie B, a paddlewheel riverboat, for a harbor tour. He pointed out the gray ladies of the United States Atlantic Fleet—nuclear-powered submarines, destroyers and aircraft carriers, great hulking figures that seemed out of place against the bright modern buildings that graced the shoreline.

“What’s on your mind, Kate?” he whispered while Randy gaped at a mammoth aircraft carrier, lost in the wonder of it.

When she didn’t respond, he realized that she, too, was caught up in the magic of the setting as the sun’s rays bounced off the green, gray and black-shaded skyscraper windows and danced in rainbow like colors against the fleet of ships.

He took her hand and relaxed when she let him hold it, but he didn’t consider that cause for overconfidence. This wasn’t a woman who allowed her libido to dictate the terms of her life; she was as capable as he of turning her back on something she wanted. With gentle pressure, he squeezed her fingers until she looked into his eyes and smiled, and he thought he’d die from the furious pounding of his runaway heart. Her unsuccessful attempt to shift her gaze from his fueled his need, and when she parted her lips and her breathing accelerated, frissons of heat shot through him. She must have seen the signs of his rising passion, for she dropped his hand, rushed to Randy, and put an arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Look, Captain Luke, a submarine’s coming up out of the water.”

He joined them at the railing as the huge, gray vessel broke through the water. Again, Randy took his hand, and he wondered at the child’s impulse. Kate wouldn’t look at him, and the scene gave him an uneasy feeling, a portent of things to come. The Carrie B eased back to shore, but Randy didn’t want to get off.

“You must learn to obey your mother and stop giving her a hard time,” Luke told him. “She’s trying to take care of you, so you cooperate with her.”

Randy whirled around and glared at him. “My daddy never talked to me like that. I don’t like for you to tell me what to do.”

“Mind your manners, Randy,” Kate said.

If she wants to raise that boy to be a respectable man, Luke thought, she wouldn’t do it that way.

He looked at Kate. “I’d wanted us to spend the day together. But I’m not taking another ride on this boat, and I don’t allow children to sass me with impunity, so I’ll see you another time.”

“We’re getting off this boat now,” she said through clenched teeth, “and Randy is going to apologize to you.”

“Aw, Mom.”

“This minute, Randy, or my hand is going to your behind.”

“I’m s-sorry, Captain Luke.”

He could hardly believe it when Randy’s hand grasped his again. “Apology accepted, Randy.” He’d like to know Randy’s method of controlling his father, because if that was what he’d done. Well, it wouldn’t work with him.

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