Nick Blacksheep was a vibrant combination of strength, courage and single-minded determination.

He was also far more complex than she’d realized.

“Thank you,” she said, then impulsively threw her arms around Nick and hugged him.

She’d meant it only as an expression of gratitude, but the second his arms wrapped around her, she entered a new world—one of fire and longings too strong to resist. As she melted against him, he groaned, and the sound vibrated against her, awakening the woman within.

Nick cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was gentle but insistent, coaxing and demanding at the same time. The strength of his arms and the hardness of his body filled her with a sweet, melting heat. The world ceased to exist. There was nothing but him.

At long last he eased his hold. “I’ll protect you from others, but who’ll protect you from me?”

Alpha Warrior
Aimée Thurlo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aimée Thurlo is a nationally known bestselling author. She’s the winner of a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews, a New Mexico Book Award in contemporary fiction and a Willa Cather Award in the same category. She’s published in twenty countries worldwide.

She also cowrites the bestselling Ella Clah mainstream mystery series praised in the New York Times Book Review.

Aimée was born in Havana, Cuba, and lives with her husband of thirty-nine years in Corrales, New Mexico. Her husband, David, was raised on the Navajo Indian Reservation.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Detective Nick Blacksheep—He’s an ex-marine with a deadly past and many personal demons. Ordered to drop an important case to protect the niece of the former police chief, he finds his life suddenly turned upside down by feelings that have no place in a warrior’s world.

Drew Simmons—She was training for a temporary job in the police records department, but unless she learns to trust her bodyguard, despite all the reasons against it, Drew might become just another crime statistic.

Chief Franklin—He was walking a fine line, trying to protect a friend, but his questionable leadership has already cost him the respect of his department.

Ray Owens—Everyone knows he is the lowest form of human being—a wife beater. But Ray holds a lot of power in the community, and his wrath is now directed at the officer who arrested him—Nick Blacksheep.

Beth Michaels—Once Drew takes over her position at the department, she’ll be free to nurse her dying husband—if her money holds out.

Harry Koval—He’s responsible for tracking down Drew’s assailants, but is making very little progress despite his reputation as a top-notch detective.

Captain Wright—Nick’s boss insists on knowing exactly where he and Drew are hiding. Unfortunately, whoever’s after Drew is also receiving this information, and that makes Captain Wright a suspect.

Travis Blacksheep—Nick is his older brother, and they’ve always had each other’s back. But someone is now trying to use that against them.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Chapter One

Wherever Nick Blacksheep went, trouble usually followed. That’s the way it had been since he’d taken his first breath back on the Navajo rez thirty-three years ago.

Travis, Nick’s younger brother, held the punching bag steady as Nick continued to channel his anger into the inert mass. “Work out on this, then we’ll go a few rounds,” Travis said.

“Wear me down first? Won’t work. Right now you couldn’t handle me, little brother,” Nick growled, and continued to pound the heavy bag.

“Anger destroys focus. I can take you.”

“In your dreams,” Nick retorted, sinking his taped fists into the thick leather with a lightning-fast combination.

“Have an Enemy Way Sing done. Release the past and the memories of war you still carry inside you and you’ll be able to sleep again at night.”

“The old ways have no part in my life,” Nick said, pounding the body bag with an intense flurry of jabs.

“You need to restore the balance. The path of harmony that allows a man to walk in beauty, the hózho, will elude you until you put your ghosts to rest.”

“It’s the present that’s the problem. There’s no reason for me to have been put on disciplinary suspension. We’ve had eight domestic disturbance calls this month alone from that address. The lowlife there can’t keep his fists off his wife. I responded to the last call, and when he tried to slip by me to go whack his wife, I threw him across the hood of his sports car.”

“I agree that you did the right thing. But nothing will change until the guy’s wife leaves him for good.”

Nick slammed his fist into the bag one last time, then stepped back. “I better hit the shower. I’ve got a meeting with the chief and the review board tonight.”

“Everyone in the department knows you’re a good cop, and there’s enough evidence to clear you. Providing you don’t screw up tonight, you’ll be fine,” Travis said. “Things have hit bottom so they have nowhere to go but up.”

“I have my own saying. Just when you think it’s really bad, it gets worse.”

“Your main problem, bro, is that you substitute attitude for patience.”

“I’d rather push things to get them rolling than play nice,” Nick said, removing the tape from his knuckles.

Travis shook his head. “A little patience gets better results. Remember how it was for us.”

Nick met his brother’s eyes. They’d been watching each other’s backs since the day their father told them he was going for a walk in the desert and never returned. To this day, they never figured out if he’d meant to abandon them, or had been trying to do them a favor. On the rez, when a man knew that he was dying, he’d sometimes walk off like that. That last act was considered a gift to his family, since a death in the house meant that the building would have to be abandoned. The Navajo Way taught that the chindi, the evil in a man, would never be able to merge with Universal Harmony, so it remained behind, posing a threat to the living.

“I’ll let you know how things go,” Nick said.

WHEN NICK STEPPED INTO the shower, he could hear Travis punching the heavy bag. Travis had lightning-fast reflexes. Nick lacked his brother’s speed and agility, but he packed more power and could slug it out toe-to-toe with anyone.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick was dressed and ready to leave. Tugging on his boots, he stood and automatically reached for the detective’s badge he normally kept on the dresser. The empty gesture made him curse. Suspension meant no department firearm or badge.

As Nick walked down the hall he saw his brother still working out in the gym they built. They’d worked hard to make what had once been a “fixer-upper” in the middle of nowhere into the perfect home for two bachelors. Marriage wasn’t in the cards for either of them. They’d already seen too much of life to settle down with a wife and become a role model for rug rats.

THE RIDE INTO TOWN was open road, most of it down a river valley flanked by wide mesas. Nick pressed on the accelerator and felt the Jeep respond. He liked speed and the edge of danger it brought.

Before long, he entered a west side, high-end housing development, complete with a six-foot wall opposite a private golf course.

His thoughts were focused on tonight’s meeting when he came upon an apparent TA, a traffic accident, just ahead in the right-hand lane. Two vehicles, an old sedan and a big van, were side by side, contact point at the front end, just off the road. Their headlights and taillights were still on. Closing in, he noted the fresh grooves on the driver’s side of the sedan. From the looks of it, it appeared that the van had cut off the sedan and made contact—not that uncommon. At least neither vehicle had rolled or had plowed into the fence.

Nick stopped, and as he switched on his driver’s-side spotlight, he heard a blood-curdling scream. Two large figures wearing hoods were gripping a woman by the arms, trying to drag her around the rear of the sedan.

Fighting like a wildcat, she suddenly broke free. She slammed her clenched fist into the face of the man on her right, swung and kicked his partner in the groin, then raced along the fence line toward Nick.

Giving her room to pass by on his right, Nick pressed down on the accelerator. Intent on scattering her assailants, he drove right at them, giving them two choices—jump out of the way or become a hood ornament.

Chapter Two

Drew Simmons raced down the roadside drainage ditch. The man in the Jeep who’d gone after the ones chasing her had probably just saved her life, but there was no time to thank him.

Tires squealed behind her, but she didn’t dare look back. The men chasing her were armed, and the greater the distance between them, the more difficult the shot. Drew struggled to reach the cell phone in her jacket pocket, but it had slipped down beneath where she’d stowed her glove.

As the sound of the vehicle approaching from behind grew louder, Drew swerved to her left, out of the ditch, and leaped onto the fence, grabbing the wire as high up as she could.

The black Jeep came to a screeching stop beside the curb, the acrid scent of burning rubber filling the air.

“Get in,” the man yelled. He threw open the passenger’s side door. “Hurry.”

She dropped to the ground and climbed in. The man she’d kicked was now sprinting down the road, heading straight for them, waving a pistol. The other was in the van, whipping around in the street, tires screaming. They’d catch up in seconds.

“One of them has a gun,” she said.

“Fasten your seat belt and hang on,” her rescuer said.

He pressed down on the accelerator, and she was thrown back against the seat. Drew felt around for the seat belt, snapping the shoulder strap in place. A determined look settled on her benefactor’s hard features. There was something vaguely familiar about the Navajo man, but she didn’t have time to give it much thought.

“There’s a shotgun on the rack behind us. The number for the safety lock is two-six-zero-zero. Get it loose before they catch up,” he ordered.

Having been raised around guns and taught about safety, she was familiar with the lock and storage rack. Within a few seconds she’d freed the long weapon, swung the barrel up around in front of her, and pumped a round into the chamber.

He looked at her, surprised but happy with her knowledge of guns. “Cool under pressure. And you can fight. That’s probably what saved you.”

“I know where to kick.”

“That’s good enough.”

The van had stopped to pick up the running man, but was now closing in on them.

“The police station isn’t far. Head there,” she said, looking back in the side mirror and seeing the dark van less than two car lengths behind.

“If I do, they’ll figure out what we’re doing and take off. We need another plan. There’s no time to call for backup, either.”

“You sound like a cop.”

“Detective Nick Blacksheep at your service,” he said.

“I’m Drew Simmons,” she answered. “I’m not an officer, but we work at the same place. So how do we sucker them in?”

“I like the way you think, Drew Simmons,” Nick said, and grinned. “Hang on. I’m going to pull into the golf course entrance. It’s a dead end. Once I stop, jump out on your side and use the Jeep for cover. I’ll take the shotgun. If they start shooting, make sure you stay behind the engine block.”

Nick pulled into the dead-end street. Quickly swerving to his left, he took the Jeep into a slow skid, stopping sideways to the street entrance.

Nick took aim with the shotgun, bracing it across the hood. “Stay down,” he yelled.

The van’s brakes squealed as the driver skidded to a stop, the lights illuminating the Jeep.

“Police officer. Out of the van, hands where I can see them,” Nick yelled, averting his eyes to avoid looking directly into the lights.

The van’s engine roared as the driver slammed the vehicle into Reverse, burning rubber.

Nick stepped out from behind the Jeep, and squeezed off a round of number four buckshot at the van’s driver-side front tire. Sparks flew from the ground as the vehicle fish-tailed violently.

“Stop! Police!” He fired and struck the front of the van just above the bumper.

The van continued in Reverse, then the driver hit the brakes hard. The van whipped around a full hundred and eighty degrees and raced away from them.

Nick switched the shotgun to his left hand and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “I think I holed their radiator. They won’t get far—I hope,” he said, watching the taillights disappear into the darkness.

Drew heard him calling in his report as she joined him. “Why weren’t you carrying your service handgun? Because you’re off duty?” she asked. “No, never mind. I remember now. You’re the Blacksheep brother who tossed Ray Owens over the hood of his car. Speaking for most of the women in the PD, we stand ready to buy you the best dinner in town.”

“You said you worked for the PD, but I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” Nick said, his gaze taking her in slowly and very thoroughly.

She suppressed the shiver that ran up her spine. He was every bit as good-looking as everyone had said, but it was that intense look he was giving her, as if he could see directly into her soul, that made her tingle all the way down to her toes. “I was supposed to take over as head librarian here in town, but the hiring freeze has me doing temp work for city government instead. Right now I’m training to take over for Beth Michaels, the department’s record clerk.”

“The library’s loss is our department’s gain,” he said, giving her a steamy smile.

Her brain suddenly went into neutral and she didn’t know what to say. Horrified by her own reaction, she cleared her throat and tried to appear calm and collected. “Thanks for helping me out,” Drew said. “I’m glad I met you, Detective Blacksheep.” Drew extended her hand, then quickly pulled it back. “I’m sorry. I just remembered that people from your tribe don’t like to shake hands.”

“Not with an enemy, or a stranger, but you and I are now connected,” Nick told her.

His hand felt calloused and hard as it enveloped hers. Everything about him looked tough and unyielding—and incredibly and irresistibly male. No wonder half the women in the department had fantasies about him. Nick and Travis Blacksheep were the hot, number-one topic on the clerical staff’s minds.

As Nick answered a call and walked away for privacy, she gazed at him. He was wearing a brown leather jacket, so she couldn’t see much about his upper body, except for his wide shoulders. The dark slacks he wore fit him closely and revealed the best buns in the county.

Drew sighed and tried to remember everything she’d heard about Nick Blacksheep. Word had it that getting him interested in anything more than a one-night stand was like trying to capture the wind. The only person he was close to was his brother, Travis.

Nick slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket and joined her once more. “Why were those men after you?”

“I have no idea. By the time I noticed the van, it was too late to do anything but react. They sideswiped my car, forcing me into the ditch. I got out of the car and ran, but I didn’t get far. They were dragging me back to their van when you came up. The rest you saw.” Drew swallowed hard. She’d come through it alive and unhurt, and that was the important thing. “It’s over,” she said, for her own benefit.

“I know you don’t want to think about what happened anymore, but I need to you stay focused and remember as many of the details as you can,” he said.

He was right. She took an unsteady breath. “For a minute or two I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me. Then…” Her voice suddenly broke and she forced herself to swallow, determined not to cry. She wouldn’t fall apart, not now.

Nick came closer to her, almost touching, yet not. “You’re all right now, Drew. No one’s going to hurt you.”

He stood just inches away, and for one brief moment she became aware of everything about him. His scent was earthy and male, and called to her wordlessly, sparking her imagination and teasing her senses.

“You handled yourself well and showed a lot of courage tonight,” he said, his voice soothing, even as danger gleamed in his eyes.

“Fear gives you the ability to do things you never dreamed possible,” she said.

He nodded, understanding. “Yes, it does.” He glanced over at the ditch bank. “Now let’s go back to your car and check out the damage.”

THEY WERE BACK AT THE original scene a few minutes later and Nick parked about fifty feet away from the rear of her sedan. The right front tire, resting at the bottom of the shallow drainage ditch, was stuck in soft ground. The dome light was still on, and her passenger-side door was ajar.

They climbed out to look, standing in the dim glow of the streetlight. When it appeared that she intended on moving closer, he grabbed her arm. “Better stay on the pavement. We have to preserve evidence, like those shoe prints in the soft sand. This wasn’t an ordinary carjacking.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your car…isn’t new,” he said after a beat. “There’s no market for it, intact or stripped for parts.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Translation—it was a rolling wreck even before I got forced into the ditch.”

As a chill wind whipped past her, she shuddered. “My coat’s on the ground near the passenger side. I slipped out of it when they first tried to grab me. Can I go get it if I watch where I step?”

“Better not. That’s evidence. If they handled it there’s no telling what they left behind for the lab techs,” he said, then took off his leather jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

“Now you’ll be cold,” she said, feeling the warmth of his jacket envelope her.

“I’m wearing a wool sweater. I’m fine.”

Sirens rose in the distance, and soon two police units pulled up, emergency lights flashing. A patrolman emerged from the nearest cruiser, and a second later a plainclothes officer with a badge clipped to his belt came out of the unmarked vehicle.

Recognizing Detective Harry Koval, Nick tried not to scowl. Koval and he had a history—and it wasn’t a good one. They’d worked as partners for about six months, right after Nick made detective, but Koval’s strictly by-the-book, compulsive methods had nearly driven Nick out of his mind. Police work wasn’t an exact science, yet Koval did everything lockstep without even a trace of insight or initiative.

“I’m Detective Koval,” Harry told Drew, then gave Nick a cold stare. “You were here when it went down, Detective, so fill me in.”

Nick stepped aside with Koval and gave him the highlights. “The only other thing I can tell you is obvious. Considering the wreck she was driving, it definitely wasn’t a carjacking.”

“Probably not,” Koval conceded, looking at the car. “She’s young and attractive, and that makes her a different kind of target. Predators are always out there. So what do you think—attempted abduction?”

“Could be. But the fact that there were two perps doesn’t fit the most common profile. Rapists usually act alone.”

As Nick watched her, he saw Drew cross her arms and press them tightly around herself, seeking warmth, or maybe comfort. Her vulnerability tugged at him and he felt a sudden surge of protectiveness he hadn’t expected.

“You still with me, Blacksheep?”

Nick focused, nodding. “Let’s go talk to the victim.”

Koval spoke first, and, after announcing that he would be investigating the incident, got right down to it. “Describe the men who came after you.”

“They were a little shorter than you are,” Drew said. “The taller was maybe five-ten, the other a few inches shorter than that. They had on dark jeans and dark blue or black sweatshirts with hoods they’d pulled over their heads. I couldn’t see their faces. It was too dark,” she said. “That’s part of what made things even scarier,” she added, in a whisper-thin voice.

“But the extra adrenalin gave you the edge you needed,” Nick said.

Koval glared at him, then continued. “Would you say the men were on the thin side, or maybe the opposite, a little chunky?”

She considered it before answering. “They weren’t over-weight, or overly skinny either. Just average, I guess.”

“Any idea why they targeted you?” Koval pressed.

She shook her head. “It must have been random. I never noticed anyone following me, and I don’t have any enemies,” she said, despite the skepticism on Koval’s face.

FOR THE NEXT TEN MINUTES, Drew gave them her version of the kidnapping attempt, and it coincided almost perfectly with what Nick had reported.

“Has anyone shown any special interest in you lately—maybe at work, or at the grocery store or in your neighborhood?” Koval asked. “Anywhere?”

Nick saw her struggle with all the raw emotions that were crashing around inside her head, and wished he could do more to help. Then he saw the flicker that swept over her features, and he knew Koval had been right to press her.

“Something odd did happen to me a few days ago. I was at the Westside Mall and a man kept following me. He didn’t try to talk to me or anything, but it got a little creepy. After a while I went to find a security guard, but when I went to point out the guy, he was gone. I figured that it had probably been some poor guy shopping with his wife and he’d just happened to be wandering in my direction. I’m not the only woman who shops for special shoes.”

Thinking she meant orthopedic wear, or something of that nature, Nick automatically glanced down. As he saw what she was wearing, he bit back a smile. They wouldn’t go under a handicap header—but, dang, it took guts to wear those. Her sneakers had bright pink polka dots and glow-in-the-dark shoelaces.

“What did the mall guy look like?” Harry asked, his focus strictly on business.

“He was around five foot seven, or maybe eight, brown hair cut short. But that’s all I remember. I never looked directly at the guy because I didn’t want to encourage him.”

“But you haven’t seen the subject since?” Koval said, bringing her back on track.

“No. I lead a quiet life, Detective. My uncle’s the former chief of police, Earl Simmons,” she said. “The troublemakers in town know that, too, and generally avoid me.”

“Until now,” Koval said.

Nick hadn’t made the family connection until that moment, but that explained a few things, like her skill in removing the safety lock on a weapon and her ease in feeding a shell into the chamber of his short-barreled shotgun.

“Lately, I’ve been working very long hours,” Drew said.

Koval nodded. “I know. Right now, you’re training to take over for our records clerk, who’s about to go on an extended leave of absence. You and Beth know each other, so I imagine that gave you the inside track.”

“No, sir,” she snapped. “I got the job on my own merit. In addition to my degree, I have three IT courses under my belt. I was the most qualified person available.”

Koval gave her one of his famous stares. They’d been known to intimidate all but the most hardened of criminals, but Drew met his gaze with an unflinching one of her own, and held it.

Nick had trouble biting back a grin. He liked this woman more with each passing second.

“I want you to come down to the station and look through our photo arrays. See if anyone there looks like your mall stalker,” Koval said.

“Right now?” she asked, then pointed to her damaged car.

“Perhaps Detective Blacksheep can give you a ride,” Koval said, and glanced at Nick, who nodded.

“Before I go, I’d like to get my purse. It’s still on the front seat,” Drew said. “No one touched it, or even got near it, except me.”

“Your sedan’s part of the crime scene, so it’ll be towed in as evidence. But one of our officers can retrieve your handbag for you,” Koval said.

They waited as Koval spoke to a member of the crime scene team. The tech then walked over to her car and brought out her big tote. The stubby, barrel-chested man carried her purse like a grocery bag instead of by the handles, and handed it to her without comment.

“Thank you,” Drew said.

The man nodded, obviously glad to have it out of his hands.

Drew walked with Nick back to his Jeep. She’d never been the kind to be overly affected by a guy’s looks, yet there was something about Nick that made her a little crazy inside. Maybe it was that cold, hard gaze that softened, and even warmed, when he looked at her, or that rugged masculinity that assured her she was safe by his side.

She shook her head, trying to unscramble her thinking. She was confusing feelings of relief and gratitude with…something else. Or maybe she was simply trying to distract herself from the horrible incident she’d lived through. She’d never been impressed by macho men, and after a lifetime of living with cops, she definitely didn’t date them.

Stopping by the outer edge of the yellow crime-scene tape strung around the perimeter, Drew glanced back at her car. “Do you think anyone would mind if I also took the book bag in the backseat? The two who came after me never touched that either.”

“What’s so important about those books?” he asked.

“They’re reference manuals that belong to the police department, and I don’t want to leave them in the impound lot. Without those, I can’t complete my training.”

“Let me consult the crime-scene team leader.” Moments later, Nick returned holding a heavy nylon backpack and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She slung the straps over her shoulder and once again fell into step beside him.

They soon reached his Jeep and got on the road. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shudder. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. I’m scared. I still don’t know if I was a target of opportunity or their intended victim. I also don’t know when—or if—they’ll come back and try again,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

“You really don’t have anything to worry about. Your uncle has a lot of clout with our department, and I’m pretty sure that he’ll insist the new chief provide you with protection until we know more about what happened tonight. The fact that you’re Earl Simmons’s niece puts an entirely new spin on things. What happened to you tonight may be linked to him and something he did as a police officer years ago. Revenge can simmer for a long time.”

“But logically, if they wanted to get at my uncle, wouldn’t they have gone after my aunt instead of me?”

“Maybe you were more available. Or it could have all been just a matter of timing.”

Drew considered it, then shook her head. “Your answer doesn’t feel right to me.”

“It doesn’t—what?”

“Call it intuition if you want, but I trust my instincts. They’ve always been reliable.”

He wasn’t a big believer in instincts—a woman’s or a man’s—but sometimes what people attributed to instinct was nothing more than the product of subconscious observations. “So what do those vibes tell you now?”

“That my troubles are just beginning,” she whispered.

“Evil is never easy to face down, but you’re doing just fine. Those men are nursing some bad bruises by now. Not bad for a librarian,” he said, with an easy smile.

Chapter Three

While Drew looked through the mug shots, Nick reported to Chief Franklin’s office. Captain Wright, Nick’s immediate supervisor, was already there.

“I got an earful from Earl Simmons,” Chief Franklin said, muttering an oath. “He still monitors police calls and knew what went down minutes after it happened. He doesn’t seem to get the fact that he’s not police chief anymore. If that bullet hadn’t put him on the disabled list, there’s no way that man would have retired.”

“What can you tell us about tonight’s incident, Nick?” Wright asked.

Nick gave them the facts, then added a couple of his own theories regarding possible motives. “Koval’s just getting started with the investigation, but he’s like a pit bull when it comes to cracking a case. He won’t back off until he’s got the answers he needs.”

“All right then, let’s get back to the original reason you were coming in tonight—your hearing,” Chief Franklin said. “The rep from the officer’s association is waiting for us in the conference room, and so’s the civilian lodging the complaint—Ray Owens. He’s threatening to sue the department and you personally.”

“I stand behind my actions. They were entirely within department guidelines. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Nick said.

“All right. Let’s get to it then.” Chief Franklin led the way out of his office and down the hall.

When Captain Wright paused at one of the rooms to speak to another officer on duty, Nick slowed his pace. He didn’t want to go into the conference room until everyone was there.

As he waited, Owens came up, blocking his way.

“Say goodbye to your career, hotshot. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be lucky to get a job mopping the restrooms,” he said, his voice loud enough for only Nick to hear.

“Get out of my face,” Nick growled.

“And if I don’t, then what? You’ll take a swing? Go ahead. We’ve got a roomful of witnesses,” he said, jabbing Nick in the chest with his fingertip.

Nick grabbed Owens’s index finger and bent it back enough for the man’s eyes to water.

Owens staggered back, bumping into the doorjamb, and looked around quickly for a witness, but it was fruitless. Everyone was pretending to be looking elsewhere—except for a man in an expensive business suit. Nick guessed he was the wife beater’s attorney. His word wouldn’t carry very far in this gathering.

Drew, who’d come down the hall along with her uncle, stood back as former chief Earl Simmons stepped up. Giving Owens a look of pure contempt, he glanced over at Nick. “I caught all that, if you need a witness, Detective Blacksheep.”

Owens glared at Earl.

“Let’s just get this over with, Ray,” Della Owens said, interrupting the face-off by taking her husband’s arm and leading him into the conference room.

Nick glanced back at Drew before going into the room. She smiled and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up, signaling him that she’d also seen enough to know the truth.

DREW TOOK A SEAT IN THE staff office, her uncle Earl on one side, Beth Michaels on the other. Beth had been at the station when she’d heard about the attempted kidnaping, and had decided to stay, knowing Drew would be coming in. Beth had custody of the photo arrays—the mug files—mostly computer images these days.

“Ray Owens is an idiot,” Beth said. “Even if Della refuses to defend herself, as an officer of the law, Nick had to step in.”

“So what happens now?” Drew asked, watching the officer on duty confronting the reporters in the front lobby.

“Chief Franklin will do what’s right for the department, but Owens has a lot of pull in this town, and the best friends money can buy. He and I have had our own run-ins. I still say the reason he beat my firm out of a construction contract with the state was because he had inside information.”

Earl looked directly at his niece. “Right now, you’ve got other, more immediate problems. You have to move back in with Minnie and me until we know it’s safe for you to be on your own.”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t bring that danger home to you and Aunt Minnie.”

“I can protect you both,” Earl said, his expression hard, his voice flat.

Though he wasn’t the department’s chief anymore, that take-charge attitude still clung to him. Giving orders came as naturally to him as it had to her dad. She thought back to the days when her father had been alive. She’d always followed his orders. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. Then, after her parents’ death, she’d gone to live with her uncle, who’d also ruled his home imperiously and absolutely. But she was an adult now, and would decide which course was right for her. Uncle Earl missed police work and wanted to be part of the fight, but she wouldn’t expose her aunt to the dangers she was facing.

Other officers soon came into the common area, often labeled the bullpen, and Drew’s uncle walked away to talk to old friends.

Hearing loud voices coming from the conference room, Beth glanced over at the closed door. “I will never understand why Della puts up with that creep.”

“All Nick did was defend the victim of an abusive husband. How did that ever get turned into a charge of police harassment?” Drew asked.

“Della changed her story. She’s now saying that she fell down. Without her testimony, and no witnesses to what actually happened, at least inside their residence, Nick’s the fall guy.”

“Owens is purposely trying to put the department on the defensive, hoping to distort the truth,” Drew said.

“Exactly. Since that’s the umpteenth call our officers have answered at Owens’s house, Ray’s only way out these days is to claim police harassment. But everyone knows the truth, so the only option Owens really has is to cut a deal of some kind.”

The door to the conference room opened and Nick came out alone.

Earl Simmons went to meet Nick just as Owens and his wife came out. With Ray in the lead, the pair hurried toward the exit. Della’s head remained down and she avoided eye contact with anyone.

Chief Franklin stepped out of the room next, and joined Nick. “You’re reinstated, Detective Blacksheep,” he said. “Pick up your service weapon and badge from the duty officer and get the MDT back in your vehicle,” he said, meaning the mobile dispatch terminal computer officers carried.

“How’s this really going down on paper?” Nick asked the chief.

“Mr. Owens will probably never admit spousal abuse, but he’s dropped his charges against you and the department and has agreed to enter anger management and couples counseling. It’s a win all around,” he said.

“I’m glad that you convinced your old friend to see reason,” Earl said to Franklin. Though he’d deliberately kept his tone casual, the point had been made. “But you’ve still got another problem—me. My niece needs police protection.”

Chief Franklin crossed his arms across his chest. “You’re assuming they’ll go after her again, Earl, and there’s no proof of that. I’m not sure I can spare any of my officers on speculation alone.”

“You didn’t have a manpower problem when you put your best detective on suspension,” Earl said, cocking his head toward Nick. “That suggests you can spare him again.”

Chief Franklin glanced toward the office area, catching Koval’s attention. “What’s your take, Harry?”

“Some protection seems appropriate,” Koval said. “The way things went down indicates a certain level of planning.”

Drew glanced around the room. She wouldn’t have minded some extra patrols around her apartment, and maybe someone who’d drop by—often—but she didn’t like being discussed as if her right to decide for herself had suddenly vanished. That’s the way it had been most of her life, but she was on her own now and didn’t have to take orders from anyone.

She was about to make her wishes known in no uncertain terms, when Captain Wright suddenly whispered something in the chief’s ear.

A moment later the chief looked up at her, then at Nick. “Detective Blacksheep, you’ve had more than your share of publicity lately. Photos were taken of you tonight by those reporters outside the building, and they’re probably already on the Internet and will be in the local paper by morning. Since you’ve become a high-profile officer, your undercover assignments are effectively over, so I’m assigning you to protect Drew Simmons until further notice. You’ll report to Detective Koval and Captain Wright. They’ll update me.”

“Chief, you can’t pull me off my cases,” Nick protested. “I’m getting close to identifying Coyote. I’ve got a photo to work with now, so it’s just a matter of time before I can get his real name, and maybe set up a sting. Let me see this one through, otherwise months of work will be lost.”

“You have your orders. Turn over your active case files, photos and all, to Detective Koval. He’ll reassign them to other detectives.”

“Wait one darned minute,” Drew said, finally managing to get a word in. “I have a say in this, too, and there’s no way I’m going into protective custody and hiding out. I’m in the middle of training for a job with this department and I need to finish what I’ve started. I support myself, and that means I need to work.”

Earl narrowed his eyes at her, then in a voice that left no doubt he was issuing a direct order, told her, “Take the protection, Drew.”

“Your job will be held for you,” Chief Franklin added, and looked at Beth, who nodded.

“Keep the reference materials and your laptop, and you can study away from the office,” Beth said.

“For the time being, I see no reason why you can’t come to work, too,” Chief Franklin added. “There’s no safer place for you than this station. Detective Blacksheep can work out the particulars for you.”

“Ms. Simmons will need a place to stay starting tonight,” Nick said.

“Accompany her to her residence so she can pick up some essentials, then take her to one of our safe houses,” Franklin said.

Drew fought hard to stay calm. She didn’t want to be placed in anyone’s care. Yet, to turn down police protection would mean risking another encounter with the men who’d come after her.

She took a deep breath. If she had to accept help, then it would be on her own terms. She’d take responsibility for herself and demand a say in every decision that affected her. Not that Nick would make that easy. He was obviously strong-willed—but so was she.

NICK LED DREW ACROSS the bullpen and picked up his badge and handgun from Captain Wright.

Nick then went to his bullpen work station and began transferring his case files to Koval’s network folder. “I could have closed this gun-running case if I’d been given just a little more time,” he said, and muttered an oath.

“This is no picnic for either of us,” Drew answered, putting on a borrowed coat. “But maybe this will be over soon. Detective Koval might find some answers after he does a little more digging.” Seeing the open skepticism on Nick’s face, she added, “But you don’t think so, do you?”

“Unless it’s an ex-boyfriend stalker, cases like these can often take weeks—or months,” he said, then finished transferring the electronic files to Koval. Taking folders containing the hard copies from his bottom drawer, he strode over to Koval’s desk and dropped them down with a thump. “My files and my notes. Now you’ve got everything.”

“You said you were close to identifying the arms dealer supplying those cartels south of the border. Just how close are you?” Koval pressed.

“I had a contact who was going to set up a buy. If the supplier matched the photo of The Coyote we’ve got on file, I was set to take him down. My contact’s name is on the file, but he won’t deal with anyone he doesn’t know. I spent months getting him to trust me.”

“Maybe another detective can get in using your name.”

Nick shook his head. “Too dangerous. Whoever takes over the case will need to build some street cred and work their way in.”

Returning to Drew’s side, Nick led her to the side door. “From this point on, you’re going to do exactly as I say,” he snapped. “Follow my orders and we’ll both stay alive.”

“No problem—just as long as I happen to agree with what you’re saying.”

“My job’s to make sure nobody snatches you, or worse. If I tell you to do something, do it.”

It was that same no-negotiation tone her father and uncle had been famous for at home, and it made her bristle. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. “We have something in common, Detective Blacksheep. I want to stay alive, and you want to keep me that way. But I won’t be treated like an idiot. We’ll work together to accomplish our mutual goal, but I’m not your subordinate, and never will be. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly. But here’s the thing. When people are coming at you with fists or guns, there’s no time for discussions,” he said, glaring at her. “I’m trained to deal with life-and-death situations. You’re not. If you want to live, do as you’re told.”

“I know the difference between an emergency and an insufferable ego. Do you?”

He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

She took a calming breath. “I get why you’re angry, but don’t take your frustrations out on me. There are a lot of women who’d probably be thrilled to let you take charge and follow in your footsteps, but I’m not one of them.”

Nick ran an exasperated hand through his hair. So much for the sweet young thing he’d wanted to comfort. A day that had started off wrong was getting worse by the second.

“Wait right here—inside the building and away from the front entrance. I’m going to get my Jeep.” It hadn’t been a request, but he could see her weighing her options. “You want to avoid becoming an open target.”

Accepting the logic, she nodded. “I tend to react very badly to people who give me orders, so think of me as an intelligent asset, not just an added responsibility.”

“Stay here,” Nick repeated, then hurried to where he’d left his Jeep. Unfortunately, he learned from one of the mechanics that his MDT had been sent to the shop to have the power supply replaced, so he’d have to do without it until a spare was located. He could have taken one of the department’s unmarked cars, but they were all easily recognizable fleet vehicles.

Five minutes later they were headed west on Central Avenue, away from the city center. Pulling up to a stoplight, Nick looked around, always on alert mode while a sitting target.

“The arms dealer case sounded interesting. That Coyote person, do you think he lives in Three Rivers?” Drew asked, mostly to make conversation.

“I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation,” he said. “Especially someone else’s.”

“Are you going to stay in this foul mood forever?” she countered. “For the record, if I’d been given a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen you either.”

That was a first. He’d never had much of a problem with women, except for the ones who wanted a “relationship.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. If you’d had your choice, who would you have chosen? That crime-scene tech who went queasy carrying your purse? Or maybe you would have rather had by-the-book Koval.”

“Actually, Nick, I wouldn’t have picked a person at all. I’d have chosen a forty-five Colt, like my father carried, and found someone who could teach me how to use it.”

He laughed out loud. “If it’s any consolation, my nine millimeter SIG Sauer and I will be right by your side.”

Drew adjusted her shoulder belt, then slipped her hands under her thighs. She hadn’t been able to stop shaking since they’d left the station. “Something’s not right,” she said, looking through the rear window, then out the side mirror.

“What’s up? Do you see something?”

“No, but I’m getting a very bad feeling—the creepy crawlies, you know?”

Nick glanced in the rearview mirror, and as he did, a sedan came out of a side street and drove up slowly. The driver eased forward, then casually pulled up beside them in the left-hand lane.

Nick glanced at the driver, but all he saw was a dark cap pulled low over the man’s face. The man leaned over toward the open passenger-side window as if about to ask directions, then suddenly raised a pistol. “Stay away from Drew!” he yelled.

Nick stomped on the gas pedal at the same time he shoved Drew down on the seat. The Jeep roared into the intersection just as the man fired. Nick felt a thud behind his back as he swerved to his left, cutting off the shooter’s car, then shifted gears and floored the Jeep.

Drew raised up slightly to look in her side mirror. “He’s still back there, trying to come up on my side now.”

“Stay down!” Nick pumped the brakes, then drew his handgun and looked to his right, ready to fire if the shooter pulled up even.

As the shooter’s car swung wide left, crossing the center line, Nick also cut left, sliding around the corner and taking the cross street.

Slamming on the brakes this time, Nick pulled a one-eighty, sliding completely around in the road. Shifting down, he floored the pedal again and raced back to the intersection.

“Now we’re on your tail,” he muttered, concentrating on his next move.

The sedan had more horsepower than his Jeep and was pulling away. Steering with his left hand, Nick called police dispatch as he continued pursuit right into the warehouse district.

“We’re going to lose him,” Drew shouted, trying hard to keep the fleeing car in sight.

“No way.” Nick shifted down.

The sedan took another right and Nick went after it, brushing a metal trash can that was spinning like a top after being struck by the sedan.

“Which way did he go?” Drew asked, when they reached the next street.

Nick screeched to a stop. “There,” he pointed.

The city’s largest municipal lot was straight ahead. Nick whipped out into the street and crossed over to the lot entrance.

An exit across the parking area showed at least three pairs of taillights going out.

“He’s going out the other side,” Drew said. “Can you back up and circle around?” Although she was terrified of actually catching up to the man, she was even more afraid of losing him.

Nick checked the mirror. A big pickup was now pulling out of a slot behind him. They were trapped in place.

“He’s gone,” Drew said, biting back tears of frustration. “We’ll never catch up now.”

Nick made the call to the station and put out an ATL, an attempt to locate. “You knew we were in trouble even before the shooter’s car came into view. What keyed you to that?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve learned never to ignore a feeling of impending danger.” She jammed her hands into her coat, needing the warmth—inside and out.

Silence stretched out between them, and, noting the pallor of her face, he continued in a gentler voice. “For now, the man’s gone and it’s over. I doubt we’ll get anywhere with that ATL. Based on past experiences, I’m betting that the car was probably stolen and will turn up abandoned somewhere, wiped clean of prints or destroyed by fire.”

“But something odd’s going on. There was only one guy in that car, not two like before. If both of them had come at us, they would have had a better chance to…kill us,” she added in a strangled voice. “So what happened to the other man?”

“Maybe they figured that we’d be on the alert for two men. Or you might have left a mark on the one you slugged in the face that would have identified him.”

“Where are we going now?”

“Back to the station. We need a debrief and a new plan. After the chief hears what just happened, he may decide that you’re better off getting out of town altogether.”

“This is turning out to be a very long night,” Drew said, swallowing hard and slumping down in her seat.

Nick gave her a quick glance. Drew was holding on by a thread, but somehow, she wasn’t falling apart. The librarian had turned out to be one helluva woman. “Keep in mind that you’ve come out ahead. You’re alive, unhurt, and, if you face any more trouble, you’ve got the best backup in the state right next to you.”

“You know what? I believe you,” she murmured.

Though her words had been barely above a whisper, he heard her and smiled.

Chapter Four

As they rode back to the station, only the road noise from the Jeep’s knobby tires marred the silence.

“Give me something to work with, Drew. Everyone makes enemies, and I need to know what I’m up against,” Nick pressed. “Everyone in your line of work makes enemies, but not in mine,” she said. “I’ve wanted to work at the Willa Cather Public Library ever since high school,” she said, softly. “Books have always been my first love. They saw me through the worst times of my life. I was only fifteen when my dad died unexpectedly. My mother never got over it, and followed him to the grave a year later. Uncle Earl took me in, but grieving for my parents was a long, hard process, and books gave me the only comfort I had. They transported me anywhere I wanted to be. Through them, I became a spy, a detective, and had adventures with elves and superheroes.”

He’d never been one for fancy daydreams, but adventures with elves? He glanced out the window so she couldn’t see him smiling.

“As I got older I knew I wanted a job that would help me guide others into that safe world where imagination was king. That’s why I became a librarian. To be offered a position in the place that started it all for me was like icing on the cake. But things haven’t exactly gone as I’d planned.”

“What about your competitors for the job? Anyone with hard feelings there?”

“Nick, think about it. Librarians don’t hire hit men.”

As they pulled into the station’s underground parking garage, Nick climbed out, then stopped and examined his side of the Jeep. There was a single bullet hole in the side panel just behind his door. The round had passed through, entering the back of his seat. There was no exit hole, so the round was probably still inside the upholstery.

Seeing Earl Simmons standing by the stairwell door, Nick hurried over with Drew. “Anything on the shooter?” Nick asked.

Though Earl held the door open for Drew, he never even glanced at her. “We’ve already located the shooter’s vehicle. It was stolen,” he told Nick. “The crime scene people are on their way now.”

“There’s a round lodged in the driver’s-side back rest somewhere,” Nick said. “I accelerated just before he squeezed the trigger.”

Captain Wright strode down the hall toward them. “What the heck happened, Blacksheep?”

Chief Franklin came around the corner just then. “Let’s go into my office and talk about this.”

They all gathered inside the chief’s office. Earl Simmons had come in as well, followed by Detective Harry Koval, who closed the door behind him as Nick and Drew caught everyone up to date.

“Is it possible the shooter followed you from the station?” Captain Wright asked.

“I kept watch and saw no one, so I can’t tell you how he pulled it off,” Nick said. “But here’s what I do know. Drew saw something I missed. I don’t know how, but she knew that something wasn’t right before the attempted hit went down.”

Drew sighed as all eyes turned to her. She’d been through this before with the men in her family. Police officers preferred to deal with tangible concepts, and woman’s intuition didn’t qualify. Intending to give it her best shot anyway, she answered the questions in their eyes. “Have any of you ever known that someone was behind you without turning around? Or maybe had the feeling the phone was going to ring, and it did?”

“No,” came the unanimous reply.

“All right. Let’s try this from a different angle. Think of your experiences out in the field—like maybe a time when you knew a suspect was going to bolt, or reach for his weapon, even though he hadn’t moved.”

“Feelings like those are usually based on something concrete, like a change of expression, or a flicker of movement,” Nick said. “They’re explainable. Think back and concentrate. What triggered the feeling you got in the car?”

Drew sighed. They had to have it in black and white, but intuition was intangible and didn’t work that way. Still, she closed her eyes and tried her best. “The streets were almost empty. I was looking ahead at the path cut by the Jeep’s headlights when I began to feel uneasy. I looked in the rearview mirror, and that’s when I saw the sedan behind us. After it closed in, everything went crazy.”

“The shooter yelled, telling me to stay away from Drew,” Nick said. “He knew her name.”

“I heard him clearly, too, but I didn’t recognize the voice,” Drew said.

“So we’re back to the stalker angle,” Chief Franklin said. “The shooter is jealous and possessive, but you still have no idea who he is?”

“No, I don’t,” Drew answered.

Wright looked at Nick. “You should start wearing a vest, Nick. You, too, Ms. Simmons.”

“From what you’ve said, Blacksheep, it appears the gunman had a plan.” Koval’s slow, methodical voice held everyone’s attention. “To stay ahead of him we’ll have to come up with a better one. We can start by having me cover the outside of whatever place you stay at tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll see where the investigation leads.”

“I’ll be happy to cooperate fully,” Drew said, mostly to remind everyone that she did have a say in the matter, “but we never made it to my place earlier and I’ll need to pick up a few things. I live in a gated apartment complex, so it should be safe enough to stop by there for a few minutes.”

Koval shook his head. “No way. You’ll have to rough it for now.”

They left the room and Nick pointed to a room with a reinforced metal door. “We need to stop at the armory and get some vests for both of us.”

After putting on the vests they went down to the garage. This time Nick was able to pick up an MDT from a mechanic. Returning with Drew to his Jeep, he plugged the computer into the accessory jack and they got underway.

Noting how anxious she was, Nick gave her a smile. “Relax. Koval’s nearby, ready to provide backup if we need it. There are other units in the area, too, still searching for the van.”

“It’s bad enough that someone’s after me, but now I’m putting others in harm’s way. I wish I could just stay somewhere that’s one hundred percent safe until this is over.”

He smiled gently. “Like the fortress cave of a superhero?” he said, thinking of what she’d said about books.

“Why not?” she answered, with a sad smile.

“I have no cave, but I’m a good shot, and I’m darned good at my job. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Drew.”

“I’ve slipped through death’s grasp twice now, but it’s not done with me yet.”

“What you’re going through happens to everyone who comes face-to-face with their own mortality. Staring death in the eye—that changes a person.”

“Including you?” she asked, looking directly at him.

He nodded. “I was in the Marine Corps, and I saw my share of combat. My nightmares are a lot worse than the average cop’s.” He said nothing for several long moments, then glanced at her and gave her a totally outrageous grin. “Of course, that’s because I’m badder than most of the guys in the PD.”

She laughed. “Is that because you’re an ex-Marine?”

“There’s no such thing. I’m a former Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine.” He took a breath, then, after a moment, added, “No matter what lies ahead, I want you to remember one thing. I make a very good friend, Drew, and a very bad enemy—as the ones after you will soon find out if they don’t back off.”

“All I want is to live through this so I can go back to my nice, quiet life,” she said.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. Experience told him that it could be a long time before Drew’s life became either nice or quiet again.

Chapter Five

They drove to the outskirts of town and eventually arrived at a tired-looking one-story cinder block motel along the old highway. The bright neon sign at the front looked as worn as the rest of the place, its letters advertising the QU-LITY-OTEL.

“You’re kidding. You want to spend a night in this roach trap?”

“It’s better inside. I guarantee you’ll have a clean room and hot running water.”

“And will we share?”

He gave her a slow grin. “Rooms? Beds? The first, for sure, as for the other…if that was an invitation…”

She nearly choked. “No, it was a legitimate question. I’m not sure how this is supposed to work. We take turns sleeping?”

“Leave those details to me,” he said, glancing around, then added, “Wait here.”

As he walked to the entrance, she watched the way he moved, advancing with purposeful strides, more like a soldier than a cop. There was an edge to him that practically dared anyone to stand in his way.

He returned a moment later and opened her door. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

As she stepped out of the Jeep their eyes met, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. Nick had a lean, powerful build that could make any sane woman’s mouth water, but it was his eyes that attracted her most. They were nearly black in the dim parking lot lights, and impossible to read. Mystery clung to him like a second skin.

Drew grabbed her book bag and purse, then followed Nick into the lobby and to the front desk. The young Navajo man there greeted Nick with an enthusiastic smile. “Yáat’ééh,” he called, using the Navajo expression for hello. “It’s good to see you, man.”

“You didn’t see me,” Nick said.

“No problem. What’s up?” he said, giving Drew a quick once-over.

“I’m looking for adjoining rooms, somewhere toward the middle of the building, a place with one way in and one way out.”

“You’ll need one of our family suites then,” he said, placing a numbered key on the table in front of Nick. “Down the hall and to the left. If there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know.”

“Dinner—anything at all—would be great,” he said, putting two twenties on the counter.

“Hey, for that amount I’ll even throw in a continental breakfast with plenty of java. Seven in the morning okay?”

“Sure,” Nick said.

As they walked down the long hall, Drew was surprised to see that everything was meticulously clean. There was no sign of dust anywhere, including the top of the ice machine.

Almost as if sensing her thoughts, Nick spoke. “I know Joe Tso. Though the place isn’t much to look at from the outside, he’s got great plans for it.” Nick paused, then added, “Joe’s a member of my clan.”

“Navajos are never really alone in the world, are they?” she asked, with a touch of envy.

“No, not really. We have our families, our clans, our tribe. It’s all part of who we are.”

That sense of connectedness was something she hadn’t felt since the death of her parents. Although she’d lived with her aunt and uncle, they never really made room for her in their lives. She’d felt more like a tenant. Yet something good had come out of that. She learned to rely on herself. The lessons she’d learned had given her the strength to pursue her own dreams.

Nick stopped halfway down the hall and unlocked the door.

Drew followed him inside and looked around. They had one large bedroom, an open passage minus a door, and a second, smaller bedroom. Both had their own bathrooms.

“It may not be perfect, but we’re safe here,” Nick said. “Anyone trying to get to you will have to go through me.”

Drew checked out the smaller bedroom with the two twin beds, and peeked inside the bathroom. “An old-fashioned claw-footed tub! I love it! This is definitely my room.” She sat her purse and backpack on the table.

“Then it’s settled.”

Drew glanced through the open door and knew that she’d be sleeping with her clothes on tonight. Anything else would be tempting fate.

Nick strode around both rooms like a panther on the prowl, checking everything. “Everything’s clear and in good order. I’m going to get a few things from the Jeep. Lock up behind me.”

She did as he asked, then sat on the edge of Nick’s bed as she waited for him to return. To think that this morning had started just like any other day! Now, here she was sharing adjoining rooms with a man who was equal parts trouble and temptation.

She was still contemplating a long soak when she heard someone walk up to the door and stop. Thinking it was Nick, she waited for the sound of the key in the lock, but nothing happened. Fear, sudden and overwhelming, engulfed her. For a moment she couldn’t move.

“Yáat’ééh,” Joe Tso called out. “It’s me, from the front desk. I’ve got your dinner, but no free hands to knock.”

“Hang on.” She opened the door and invited Joe in. Hearing more footsteps, Drew glanced out and saw Nick coming down the hall carrying a gym bag and a rolled-up blanket she suspected contained his shotgun.

“Your favorite, cuz,” the young Navajo man said, as Nick came in, then placed two greasy paper bags on the table.

Once Joe left, they sat down by the table and brought out two huge, foil-wrapped enchiladas, still warm. He placed one in front of her and quickly unwrapped the other and took a huge mouthful.

Drew unwrapped hers and took a bite. “These are heavenly,” she said.

Hungry, they ate quickly. Drew smiled at him as she consumed the last bite. “That’s the best dinner I’ve had in ages,” she said, licking the salsa off each of her fingers.

Nick watched her for a moment, then swallowed the last of the cold water in the bottle. “Will you help me get out of this vest? An old injury I got overseas is acting up. I aggravated it earlier today when my brother and I were working out. The vest made it worse.”

Drew helped him remove his vest, and as she did, his western style shirt came open in front, revealing the jagged scars that covered his upper chest. “Those aren’t bullet wounds, are they?”

He shook his head. “Shrapnel—flying metal.”

She ran a gentle finger over one of the scars and heard him suck in his breath. As she looked up at him, his eyes, gleaming like granite, held hers.

Her mouth went dry. He was magnificent in every sense of the word. Instead of detracting from his looks, the toll war had taken on his body enhanced his appeal. He looked rugged, a man of experience, whose assurance came from self-knowledge, not bravado.

“If you don’t need any more help,” she managed.

“I need you,” he whispered. “Don’t go so soon.”

A shiver touched her spine, and for a second she stood where she was, feeling the heat from his body and wanting more. “You’re on duty….”

“Koval’s outside in the parking lot, and he’ll be there till daybreak. Joe’s keeping an eye on things, too. We’re okay,” he said gently, then cupped her cheek with his palm, and traced her lips with his thumb. “Let’s get to know each other a little better.”

Awareness and desire squeezed the air from her lungs. She had to use every last shred of willpower she possessed just to step away. “You and I are temporary associates—partners by necessity. Let’s keep it that way.”

He reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the pulse point there. “Your heartbeat tells me a different story.”

Drew tried to swallow, but her mouth was completely dry. “What we may want right now and what we really need are two very different things.”

“I can make them be one and the same,” he said, leaning over and whispering the words in her ear.

A shiver coursed through her, but once again she found the will to step back. “Stop it. I’m no one’s one-night stand. Your reputation precedes you, Detective Blacksheep.” Without another word, she walked into her room and unhooked the straps of her own vest. After slipping out of the heavy garment, she turned on the TV and sat cross-legged on the edge of the mattress.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” he murmured.

Drew pretended not to hear. Just standing close to him had made everything inside her blossom to life. He was the stuff of dreams. To make love for the first time and have it be to a man like Nick… She sighed.

As her heart slowed to almost normal, she glanced at the tub wistfully. There was no way she was going to take off her clothes now. She knew her limitations.

NICK WENT STRAIGHT INTO the shower and turned on the cold water. He wasn’t used to being turned down. He wasn’t a traditionalist, but like them, he believed that the Anglo world made too much of sex. It was a pleasurable need—like eating, only better.

Making love—that was something else entirely. It meant a deeper union—a coming together of two halves, a completion. Experience told him that was precisely what a woman like Drew would require.

As he allowed the cold water to course over his body, unsatisfied needs pounded through him. He should have taken off his own vest, but watching her lick her fingertips had stirred something inside him. He’d wanted her. And she’d wanted him. He’d felt her tremble and had heard the little hitch in her breath. Yet something had stopped her.

Innocence? Could that be part of the answer? Maybe she’d never had a man, not in that way. The possibility made his body harden again, but this time it came with a hefty dose of guilt. He had to keep his distance from her. If she was saving herself for a future husband, that left him out of the running. He wasn’t marriage material.

Nick came out of the shower, toweled himself dry, then pulled on his jeans. As he walked barefoot into his room, he looked through the open doorway and saw that Drew had fallen asleep on the small bed.

Good. One less distraction to worry about.

He used his phone to check with Koval next, and after getting the all-clear, he crossed the room and unwrapped his shotgun from the blanket. Placing the weapon back on the bed, safety on, he sat down at the table, brought out his pistol, and began cleaning it.

Although he’d tried to be quiet, the click of the slide woke her and Drew sat up immediately.

“It’s okay, relax.” Nick stood and placed his pistol back in its holster. “I’m going to take a walk outside and make sure everything’s secure.”

Nick left the room and walked down the hall. As he stepped out into the parking lot, the cold night air rushed to greet him. He remained close to the wall, in the shadows. He liked the freedom of the night, that’s why he’d embraced investigative work. He belonged in the darkness, just as someone like Drew belonged in the light.

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