“McNeal, I know you’re in there,” he said through the door. “We need to talk.”
Determined to get through this with as much dignity as possible, she put her hand on the knob. She didn’t give a hoot if the almighty Nick Ryan saw her in her robe. If he had a problem with that, to hell with him.
She took two deep breaths and yanked open the door.
* * *
Erin McNeal wrapped in a terry cloth robe and smelling like freshly cut flowers was the last thing Nick expected. He stood frozen, shocked speechless by her transformation from cop to woman. All the while his brain floundered to form a coherent thought that didn’t have to do with soft skin or curves he knew better than to notice. He may as well have been splitting atoms for all the success he had.
She’d pinned her hair on top of her head, and dark, wet wisps clung to the creamy flesh of her neck. His eyes wanted to roam lower, but he quickly stopped the urge. He preferred not to know this woman had the kind of cleavage that could drive a man slowly insane. He held her gaze, vaguely aware of the color rising in her cheeks, feeling that same heat burn the back of his neck. He refused to think about what the sight of all those curves was doing to the rest of his body.
“I didn’t mean to get you out of the tub,” he said.
Her throat quivered when she swallowed. “I thought about not answering the door, but figured we ought to get this over with.”
“If this is a bad time, I can come back.”
She cocked her head. “If the robe bothers you, Chief, I can throw on my jeans. I think the outcome of this meeting will be the same either way.”
Nick didn’t want to think about her in jeans. Not when she was standing before him with water glistening on her flesh and his body humming with interest. After three years, why did it have to be this woman to remind him that he was still a man, with a man’s needs?
“I’ll make this short, then,” he said.
“I’d appreciate that. Do you want to come in?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Look, if you came here to finish firing me, the least you can do is come in.”
“I didn’t come here to fire you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were under the impression that I was a loose cannon and a threat to the inhabitants of Logan Falls and mankind in general.”
Nick couldn’t help smiling. He dropped his gaze, only to find himself staring at her toes. Unfortunately, they were every bit as sexy as the rest of her.
He raised his eyes to hers. “You weren’t the only one who overreacted today.”
“Is that your idea of an apology?”
“Save it, McNeal. I may have overreacted, but you were out of line. I won’t tolerate it.” Hearing movement behind him, Nick turned to see Mrs. Newman, the town gossip, pause outside the adjacent apartment with a bag of groceries in her arms. She gazed at him for a moment, then peered into Erin’s apartment with unconcealed curiosity. Terrific, he thought, this ought to get the tongues wagging.
Erin noticed and moved aside. “Do you want to come in?”
“I can’t stay.” He stepped into her apartment, realizing belatedly it would have been smarter for him to have handled the situation over the phone.
Turning away, Erin walked into the living room. Nick followed, struggling not to feel awkward—failing miserably—and trying in vain not to notice the curve of her backside beneath that robe.
The apartment was small, with high windows and gauzy curtains that ushered in ribbons of yellow sunlight. The furniture was outdated, but functional. Nothing frilly for Erin McNeal. No photographs or mementos. It didn’t surprise him she wasn’t neat. She’d barely unpacked, and already there was a hint of feminine clutter. A towel tossed haphazardly over a box. Her boots lay next to the sofa, where she’d kicked them off. He spotted her holster on the coffee table. Then his gaze stopped on the scrap of lace draped over the sofa arm. Her bra, Nick realized. The same one he’d noticed through her blouse the first time he’d seen her. No, he thought, coming here hadn’t been a good idea at all.
“Would you like something to drink?”
He tore his gaze from the bra. For crying out loud, what was the matter with him? He wasn’t some sex-starved teenager who went brain dead over a woman’s bra. Especially when that particular woman was off-limits for too many reasons to count—let alone that she worked for him.
“No.” He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to accommodate the rush of blood to his groin. “Look, Erin, it’s not unusual for a cop to lose his or her confidence after they’ve been involved in a shooting.”
“I haven’t lost my confidence.”
“You’re trying too hard. You’re trying to get something back that takes time. You’re rushing it, and you’re going to end up getting hurt. I don’t want that to happen.”
She flushed.
“I still need a deputy,” he said. “The last thing you need is another termination on your record. What do you say we give this another shot?”
“If you’re asking me to stay, the answer is yes.”
Nick grimaced, not sure if that was what he’d wanted to hear. But he could live with it. “I’m going to level with you, McNeal. I’ve got my doubts about whether or not you’re ready to come back to the field. I’m going to extend your probationary period—”
“I’m ready.”
“You went against my direct orders this morning. You took a stupid risk that could have turned out much worse. I won’t tolerate recklessness of any kind from you or any of my other deputies. Are you clear on that?”
She gazed levelly at him. “Those two men were armed and dangerous. I wasn’t about to let them get away.”
“One of those suspects came within an inch of gaining control of your weapon. You could have turned a robbery into a hostage situation, or worse.”
“I know you’re having a hard time believing this,” she said, “but I happen to be a professional. I’m good at—”
“So I’ve heard. That’s not what’s in question here.”
“But my judgment is?”
“Knowing what I do about you personally, and your past, I’d be a fool not to question your judgment after today.”
“I see.” Her chin went up, and Nick knew he’d scored a direct hit. “You’re convinced I’m skewed because of the shooting.”
“Are you?” he asked.
“You’ve already decided, so why does it matter what I think?”
“Look, Erin, cops react to shootings in different ways. Some retreat. Some quit. Some turn to alcohol. Look at the divorce rate. The suicide rate, for God’s sake. You don’t have to make up for something you did or didn’t do in that warehouse.”
She crossed her arms in front of her. “Now you’re a shrink.”
“I’m the chief of police—and your superior. I have a right to know where your head is. My life—or my deputies’ lives—depends on that.”
“I’m sure this isn’t what you want to hear, Chief, but if I were faced with the same situation right now, I’d react the same way.”
“That’s fine. I’ll assign you accordingly.”
Wariness flooded her gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That means you’ve got the school crosswalks until I think you’re ready for something with more responsibility.”
Nick didn’t miss the minute jolt that traveled through her body when he hit her with the news. Couldn’t she see he was doing this for her own good?
Heat flashed in her eyes. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, McNeal. You of all people ought to know that.”
“You can’t do this.”
“I just did. I suggest you get used to it. That’s your assignment indefinitely. I’ll decide when to change it. When I think you’ve come to terms with whatever’s eating at you, we’ll talk about it again.”
“I have come to terms.”
“Prove it to me.”
>
“You’ve no right penalizing me—”
“This has nothing to do with you personally. All I’m concerned about is your well-being and the safety of your fellow deputies and the citizens of this town. Take it or leave it. It’s your call.”
Nick held his breath as he watched the inner struggle tear at her. He saw temper and restraint and a hefty dose of ego pulling her in different directions. He knew she wanted to tell him to go take a flying leap, but he also knew she had too much to lose to succumb to the urge.
After a moment, she squared her shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “All right, Chief. Have it your way. I’ll take the assignment.”
Inwardly, he smiled. She’d passed the test. Restraint had won. They might just get through this, after all. “Good,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Frowning, she raised her hand to push a tendril of hair away from her face.
“Police work isn’t about what we…” His voice trailed off when he spotted the nasty abrasion on her elbow. “What happened to your arm?”
She glanced down at her elbow. “I must have done it in the scuffle. It’s no big deal.”
Nick knew better than to touch her. He’d been around the block a few too many times to court the kind of trouble a touch would rouse. He didn’t like the way he was reacting to her as it was. He knew if he touched her, if he discovered her skin was as soft and warm and fragrant as he imagined, it would only make dealing with her even more complex.
“You ought to have it looked at,” he said stiffly.
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll take care of it.”
She was so close he could smell the clean scent of her hair. The warm, flowery aroma of whatever she’d put in the tub. A droplet of water clung to a dark lock of hair behind her ear. Nick stared at it, wondering what it would be like to catch that droplet with his tongue and get a taste of the tender flesh beneath. He wondered if she would taste as good as she smelled.
He fought another rush of blood to his groin. He denied it. He cursed it. But his body betrayed his intellect, reacting with an intensity that left him incredulous and disturbed. Now wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the place. And Erin McNeal wasn’t the woman.
Some inner warning told him to get out of there. Nick stepped back, breaking the spell he had absolutely no desire to explore. Shaken by his reaction, he turned away and started toward the door.
He felt her stare on his back, but he didn’t stop. He knew he was running. But he didn’t care. As long as he didn’t let this woman get to him, he’d be fine. He’d had his fill of risk takers. A few months in Logan Falls, then she’d go back to Chicago, and Nick would be rid of her. He might like the way she looked; under different circumstances he might have liked to get her in his bed. But Erin McNeal was the last woman he wanted to care about.
He left without looking back.
CHAPTER 4
The Midwestern sky shimmered Caribbean blue as Erin strapped on her fluorescent orange vest and left her cruiser. Dressed in full uniform and toting her safety flag, she crossed the street to the Logan Falls Elementary School, prepared to drudge through an assignment she had absolutely no desire to complete.
Let Nick Ryan have his petty revenge, she told herself as she unrolled the flag and watched the school zone caution lights blink on. At least he’d changed his mind about firing her. That was something to be thankful for, since she was pretty much starting at ground zero when it came to her career. She’d get her problems ironed out here in Logan Falls. If all went as planned, in a few months she’d be ready to move on to a bigger town. Maybe even Chicago—if Frank would have her back.
A school bus breezed by. Erin mustered a smile and waved, taking her place at the crosswalk. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the maples and elms along Commerce Street. The drone of a lawn mower sounded in the distance. She breathed in the scent of fresh-cut grass and felt a growing sense of contentment as Logan Falls’s version of rush hour commenced. Mothers dressed in housecoats dropped their children curbside. The older kids gathered on the sidewalk where Erin stood, their soft voices and laughter sounding as foreign to her as another language.
After nine years of working some of Chicago’s toughest neighborhoods, Erin had thought crosswalk duty would bore her to tears. Oddly, she found herself enjoying the simplicity of the assignment, watching the children, the fierce hugs of mothers as they bade them goodbye, and experiencing firsthand the wholesome goodness of small-town life.
She had expected to be disappointed by the lack of action, by the absence of the danger that had sustained her for so many years. To her surprise, she found herself feeling protective of the townspeople she’d sworn to serve and protect. She felt as if she’d stepped back in time, to a place that was pure and simple, a place where people obeyed the laws of the land because they believed in doing the right thing.
Within the first hour of her shift, she’d chatted with the principal, Mrs. Helmsley, about the new bleachers she wanted to have built on the north side of the track. Erin had helped a fourth-grade student find her lost notebook. Her self-discipline had caved in when a first grader with missing front teeth asked her if she wanted to buy a grossly overpriced chocolate bar. Erin ended up buying two.
A far cry from Chicago, she mused, remembering too many other children whose worlds had been ravaged by poverty, their minds and bodies polluted by crack or heroin or whatever other poison they’d been unlucky enough to get introduced to. As she stood at the crosswalk, watching the scene unfold like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, she wondered if Nick realized how lucky he was.
It wasn’t the first time she’d thought of her surly boss that morning. The fact of the matter was he’d been on her mind a lot during the last day. She told herself it was because she was annoyed with him. Not only about the way he’d handled the situation at the Brass Rail Saloon, but because he’d assigned her the school crosswalk.
But she couldn’t deny there was more to her preoccupation with him than mere annoyance. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d found herself reacting to him on a level that had nothing to do with police work—and everything to do with good old-fashioned physical attraction.
Erin wasn’t a sexual creature by nature. Having worked in a male-dominated profession her entire adult life, she was accustomed to working with men. She’d had dozens of male friends over the years, had always considered herself immune to hormones and the problems they presented—at least until now.
She tried to analyze her feelings—the quickening of her heart, her wet palms, the sensation of not being able to get enough oxygen into her lungs—and wanted to blame the symptoms on the fact that he went out of his way to make things difficult for her. But Erin was honest enough with herself to acknowledge the truth. He was an attractive man—and her body had taken notice. She didn’t want to deal with it. Wouldn’t, in fact, since he’d already proved to her he couldn’t handle the prospect of a woman in a dangerous profession. Not that she was looking for his approval, or anything else, for that matter.
Regardless of his flaws, she couldn’t deny Nick Ryan was something to look at with those coffee-brown eyes, his brooding demeanor and unforgiving mouth. He disturbed her. He infuriated her. He appealed to her more than any man had in too many years to count.
But even more disturbing was the fact that her attraction to him didn’t stop with the physical. The flash of emotion in his expression when he’d told her he was a widower, the anguish on his face when confronted with his daughter’s pain. Something had shifted inside Erin when she saw that sad little girl transform him from hardened cop to lonely widower struggling to cope with a devastating situation. She knew firsthand the many faces of pain, and Nick Ryan had it etched into every feature. No matter how hard she’d tried to resist, that part of the man touched her deeply. So how was she supposed to deal with that?
“By ignoring it, of course,” Erin muttered as she lowered her flag and crossed the s
treet to a group of children. Traffic stopped, and she motioned to the children. “Okay, kids, it’s safe to cross! Have fun at school today!”
Just because the chief of police was drop-dead gorgeous and had a human side to boot didn’t mean she was going to act on some banal impulse and blow this job. Quite the contrary. Erin could handle her hormones—she always had. The fact that Nick didn’t even like her would undoubtedly help. They had completely opposite philosophies on law enforcement. That should keep them on opposing sides long enough for her to get over this…fascination—if she could even call it that.
The group of children crossed the street behind Erin. “Don’t forget to look both ways when crossing,” she said over the din of young voices.
The children had just reached the other side when a little girl in a pink sweater dropped one of her papers. “My picture!” she exclaimed as the breeze picked it up and tumbled it along the pavement.
The traffic remained stopped, so Erin wasn’t concerned. Thank goodness road rage didn’t exist here in Logan Falls, she thought wryly. She raised the flag higher, making sure she had the attention of the driver in the first car. The young woman behind the wheel rolled her eyes and smiled.
Erin looked over her shoulder at the child. The little girl scrambled for the paper, catching it just a few feet away from Erin. “I got it!” she said.
The low roar of an engine drew Erin’s attention. A dark sedan broke from the line of traffic several cars back. She saw a chrome grille. The sun glinting off a darkened windshield. Anger pumped through her that an impatient driver would endanger innocent school children.
She raised the flag and angrily motioned for the driver to pull over. The car picked up speed, the engine whining like a jet engine.
“What the—” Her anger turned quickly to disbelief when the driver cut the wheel and came straight for her. There was no time to react. Her only thought was that she couldn’t let the little girl in the pink sweater get hurt.
Spinning, Erin grabbed the child’s arm and shoved her. The engine whined. She dove. A scream pierced the air—her own—followed by the sound of steel against flesh. The impact spun her in midair. Pain jolted through her right hip. An instant later, the pavement rushed up, and she tumbled into darkness.