Secret desire

Secret Desire
Gwynne Forster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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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.

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