In a flat voice, Blake said, “No.”
Hot flames ignited her body. Why was he being so difficult about this? It wasn’t as if she were saying she wanted to use herself as bait to catch the killer; she just wanted to be in the city when he was captured.
“This isn’t your choice,” she said in a steely tone.
“Like hell it isn’t. I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice if that’s what it takes.”
Disbelief rocketed through her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Rick sighed. “Blake—”
She interrupted angrily. “Do it and I’ll call a press conference telling the country how the FBI is bullying the only witness they’ve got!”
“Sam—” Rick began.
“I need a moment alone with her, Rick,” Blake snapped, the fire in his eyes now a raging inferno.
A short silence descended over the room. Finally, Rick nodded, looking both uncomfortable and annoyed. “Fine. I’ll call Knight and update him on this latest…development.”
After Rick left the room, Blake shifted in his chair so that they were face-to-face.
They eyed each other for a long moment. Her heart unwittingly did a flip-flop. The turbulent expression in his eyes reminded her of the way he’d looked when he’d kissed her last night.
She shook her head, wondering how they’d gotten from point A—passionately kissing last night—to point B—hurling threats at each other today.
She released a regretful breath. “I’m not going to call a press conference,” she finally murmured.
“I’m not going to arrest you,” he murmured back, a wry flicker in his eyes.
“So what are we going to do about this?”
He rubbed his chin and she found herself wishing it was her own hand stroking that well-defined jaw. Heat speared into her skin, catching her off guard. God, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about kissing him again.
“Sam, you can’t stay.”
His gaze rested on her mouth, and suddenly she knew he wasn’t talking about the case, or the danger she faced by sticking around.
Her reaction to his nearness couldn’t have been have been more clear if it were pasted on a billboard on Lakeshore Drive. Her nipples poked against the thin lace of her bra, that place between her thighs ached, and her cheeks were so warm she knew they must be flushed. She might have been embarrassed about the obvious arousal he brought out in her, if not for the same sense of awareness radiating from him. His pulse vibrating in his strong neck, his eyes darkening to smoky whiskey. He wanted her, the same way she wanted him.
The air between them hummed, and the tension hissing in the room only heightened her response. She hadn’t thought she could feel this way around a man again, but her body, reduced to its most basic, primal state, was practically singing for him to touch her.
Blake saw the arousal glimmering in Sam’s big gray eyes and his groin hardened. Dammit. Not now. Not this woman.
“Blake…” The soft word broke through the sexual tension sizzling between them. “I need to be here to see this thing through.”
“Don’t you care that you’ll be putting yourself in danger?” Frustration poured out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to her determination to place herself in harm’s way, or because of the heat pulsing through his veins.
His mouth tingled with the need to kiss her again.
She folded her hands over her lap. “I’m not stupid, Blake. I won’t go charging through the city, yelling for the bastard to come and get me. I just want to help.”
Alarm trickled through him. “Help how?”
“Looking through mug shots, helping you talk through things as I did today. I can’t hide from him anymore.”
Her delicate chin lifted with fortitude and a strangled groan escaped from his lips. A part of him wanted to throw her over his shoulder and haul her out the door. Another part wanted to carry her into his bedroom and make love to her until neither of them could move.
She leaned forward, providing him with an eyeful of the delicious cleavage swelling from the neckline of her thin, green sweater. “Let me stay here with you, Blake.”
“Here?” he echoed.
His mouth grew so dry it felt like someone had stuffed a dozen cotton balls inside it. She wanted to stay here? With him? And turn his cozy home into the Garden of Eden, forbidden fruit and all?
She must have seen the disinclination in his eyes, because she frowned. “I’m trying to compromise. I refuse to be carted off to Florida but I’m willing to accept protection, Blake. If I stay with you, you’ll keep me safe. You’ll protect me.”
Something hard and agonizing slammed into him.
“Come on, Blake, let me come along.”
“Katie, it’s too dangerous.”
“You’ll protect me.”
The sound of Kate’s voice in his head stole the breath right out of his lungs. You’ll protect me. The same words Sam had just said, the same task he’d failed to carry out the last time a woman had asked for his protection.
He’d probably always blame himself for Kate’s death. It was a reality he lived with, one he’d accepted, yet he’d learned that the only way to function normally in his life and his job was to keep the memory of Kate buried in the back of his mind. That’s why he’d thrown himself headfirst into this case. He’d taken it on in hopes that it would distract him, allow him to keep the pain at bay, something his three months’ leave a year ago hadn’t accomplished.
And here he was, right back in the same position. He’d hoped that hunting another killer would make him forget the loss of the woman he’d loved. Instead, he was now facing losing a woman he was starting to care about.
And dammit, he did care about Sam. He barely knew her, yet he was feeling things for her he’d never thought he would feel again. Admiration. Respect.
Lust.
Oh, yeah, definitely lust. He wanted her so bad he could taste her on his tongue.
God help him.
“You won’t change your mind about this, will you?”
“No,” she said, her tone firm.
With a sigh, he rose from his chair and left the dining room. He found Rick pacing the front hallway and murmuring into his cell phone.
“Let me talk to him,” Blake said, holding out his hand.
Rick tossed him the phone without a word.
“What’s going on there, Corwin?” Knight barked.
“She’s going to stay here with me.” From the corner of his eye he saw Sam appear in the doorway. She watched him, a whisper of a smile lifting her sensual mouth. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep Miss Dawson safe.”
“You’ll be taking full responsibility should anything happen?”
He struggled to maintain a calm voice. “Yes.”
“Fine. She’s under your protection.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He hung up and handed the phone back to Rick, who shot him a quizzical look. “You sure about this, Blake?”
His gaze slid in Sam’s direction. “I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter.”
He wasn’t happy with her. Sam could sense it as she watched Blake rub his temples. He did that a lot, almost like he had one continuous headache that simply couldn’t be remedied. Was she the source of tonight’s headache? Oh, yeah. No question about it. He definitely wasn’t pleased that she’d decided to stay in the city.
Rick had just left, which meant that she and Blake were officially alone. Her throat tightened at the thought. Even though she’d convinced him to let her stay, knowing they’d be in such close quarters made her apprehensive. Before the attack she would’ve capitalized on the coziness of the situation. Now she didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t know why her body had decided to wake up after six months of hibernation, didn’t know why Blake was the man who’d spurred the awakening. But what she did know, without a doubt, was that she wanted this man.
She wanted hi
s stubborn mouth kissing hers again. She wanted to tangle her fingers in his messy dark hair and lose herself in his tall, sturdy body. She wanted those serious whiskey-colored eyes to look at her with passion again, wanted to hear that rough voice telling her she was beautiful.
Maybe it was crazy to want so much. Maybe none of those delicious things would come to be. But if she left town there wouldn’t even be a chance. Here, she could hope, and dream, and dammit, want.
“Knight requests that you lay low,” Blake said as they drifted back into the dining room. He moved his hand from his temples to the faint stubble shadowing his jaw. “You’ll be able to talk to Elaine on the phone, but you’re not leaving this house. Not until the media storm dies down.”
“All right.”
“The Chicago PD is stationing a car outside the house, and when I meet with the task force at the end of the week, an officer will be here with you.”
Again she said, “All right.”
“Are you hungry?”
The sudden change of subject caught her by surprise. Her stomach, however, seemed to be waiting for the question, for it instantly growled in response.
She gave a faint smile. “Starved.”
“I’ll fix us something.”
He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her sitting at the table to contemplate his strange behavior. Once it had been decided that he’d be acting as her own personal bodyguard, his entire demeanor had shifted, becoming stiff, professional. She didn’t like it. She’d grown used to the warmth radiating from him, the impression that he actually gave a damn about what happened to her. He still did, of course, but his impersonal manner made her feel as if she were being viewed as an assignment now, and not a woman.
She’d just have to change that, wouldn’t she?
Twenty minutes later Blake rejoined her in the dining room. He set two plates on the table, along with two glasses and a bottle of red wine, then bounded into the kitchen again. He returned with a large serving bowl of spaghetti, topped with plain tomato sauce that had probably come out of a can.
“I can’t cook anything else,” he said with an endearing shrug of one shoulder.
His gruff voice brought a smile to her lips. “It looks great.”
Looking as if he didn’t quite believe her, Blake piled the pasta onto her plate, then moved to his own chair and served himself. He pulled the cork from the wine bottle and poured each of them a glass, then dug into his food silently.
As she ate, Sam’s gaze strayed to the window. The drapes were open, but all she saw was a curtain of white against the windowpane. Fat snowflakes floated in front of the glass, making her smile. God, she loved winter. She’d always looked forward to the first snow of the season, greeting it every year by slipping her knee-length Burberry coat over her shoulders, tucking her hair under a wool hat, and walking through the snow in her favorite pair of high-heeled leather boots.
This year she’d watched that first snowfall from behind a locked window in the farmhouse in Wellstock.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she blurted.
Blake lifted his head. He focused for a moment on the snow falling outside before letting out a sigh that seemed unrelated to the weather. “I don’t think that’s possible. If any of my neighbors recognized you…”
Her face fell as he trailed off. He was right, of course. And since he’d already agreed to let her stay here with him, she didn’t want to push her luck by parading through the neighborhood and getting recognized again. The last thing she wanted was Blake changing his mind and sending her away.
He must have seen the disappointment in her eyes because he released another breath. “What if we went out into the backyard?” he suggested. “Won’t be much of a walk but it’s a pretty nice yard.”
Abandoning her half-eaten food, she said, “Sounds good.”
She didn’t have her Burberry coat or her favorite boots, but she made do with the black bomber jacket Blake grabbed for her. The coat hung down to her knees, and the sexy masculine scent imprinted in the material wrapped around her like a warm embrace.
The kitchen door opened out into the backyard and the second they stepped into the chilly night air, a smile filled her face. Blake flicked on a light and a yellow glow bathed the snow-covered patio.
“God, it’s so beautiful,” she breathed, tilting her head to stare up at the inky sky and the snowflakes dancing down from it. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“It is.”
Heat spilled over her cheeks when she realized he wasn’t admiring the display of winter around them, but that his dark gaze was focused on her face.
Her heart skipped, then broke out in a frenzied gallop and vibrated against her ribs. Swallowing, she brushed a few wet flakes off her eyelashes and ascended the short set of steps from the patio to the barren yard.
There wasn’t a single piece of furniture out there, not even a birdhouse for the sparrows she’d heard chirping outside the guest room window this morning. But the way the falling snowflakes hit the solitary light illuminating the empty yard created an almost magical ambience. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the clean air and the pine trees lining the perimeter of the yard.
The snow began to gather and pile on the ground under their feet. “Think there’ll be a blizzard tonight?” she asked as she stuck her hands in the pockets of her coat.
“I hope not.” He paused, then added, “You know, blizzards were the bane of my childhood existence.”
“Why is that?”
“My mother always used a blizzard as an excuse to launch into family game night. When I was growing up, a storm was the only thing that would get the entire family in the same room, all five of us trapped indoors. Mom would sit us down in front of the fireplace and pull out those God-awful board games.”
“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad,” she teased when she heard the exasperation in his tone.
He thought about it for a moment. “You’re right. It wasn’t as bad as I make it out to be.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “Mark, my brother, would force us to play Monopoly, and he’d go around the board buying every property until he ran out of money in the first ten minutes. My sister Jess cheated up a storm, stealing hundreds from the bank when she thought we weren’t looking.”
“And your parents?”
Blake laughed. “Dad would fall asleep before he reached Go for the first time, and Mom pretended to like the game when really she just liked spending time with us. And me, well, I’d always win, of course.”
“Of course.” She didn’t miss the fondness in his tone when he spoke of his family, and a pang of longing tugged at her belly. She averted her eyes before he could see the sadness in them.
Apparently she didn’t break the eye contact fast enough. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he murmured.
She sighed. “I’m just envious, that’s all. Beau and I never had any family gatherings like that growing up.”
“Your file said your parents died when you were sixteen. That should have been plenty of time for family togetherness.”
“Not really. My parents were both lawyers. They owned their own firm, and they spent seven days a week in the office. Beau and I had a nanny.” She laughed softly. “Her name was Hilda, and she was an absolute nightmare. Her idea of fun was making us help her wash the windows. But she spent time with us at least, which is more than I can say for our parents.”
Blake reached out and took her hand. She glanced at it for a moment but said nothing. It seemed like a subconscious move on his part, and she liked the feel of his warm fingers against her palm too much to draw attention to it and risk him taking his hand away.
“That must have been tough,” he said.
“It was.” She shot him a sideways glance. “But I had my brother. He’s five years older, so he thought I was a pain in the ass most of the time, but he was always there for me when I needed him. After our parents died he even put off going to college so he could live at home with me until I finished
high school.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He’s an artist. A painter. And argue with him all you want, but he’ll never consider any of the photographs I’ve posed for as art. He always hated my career.”
“Did you like it, though? Modeling?” He rubbed the inside of her palm with his thumb. She took a sharp intake of breath. Oh, God. His touch felt like heaven against her cold hands. She wanted so badly to lace her fingers through his, but held back, afraid if she did he’d become rigid and professional again.
“I liked it a lot, actually. I started out doing catalogue work, seasonal stuff for department stores, that kind of thing. Then my agent got me a go-see for a swimsuit magazine, and my career took off.” She grinned. “I was lucky enough to travel to some incredible places. Gosh, I can’t even begin to describe it. I remember this one shoot in Bora Bora, a rock-climbing spread—wearing a bikini, mind you—and it was unbelievable.”
He looked surprised. “Wait, that was an actual mountain you were on? In that picture with the yellow bikini?”
Pleasure suffused her entire body. “You saw the spread?”
He actually blushed, which made her heart do a couple of jumping jacks. There was nothing sexier than a man who was man enough to blush.
“I may have come across it,” he said grudgingly.
“Admit it,” she teased. “You were a fan.” Her eyes twinkled. “I could sign an autograph for you, if you’d like.”
He let out a laugh and held his palm over his heart. “An autograph from a real-life swimsuit model? I’d be honored.”
“Now you’re making fun of me,” she grumbled. She gave him a wry look. “You probably think what I did was sleazy, huh? Putting myself on display like that.”
“Sleazy? No. Sexy? Yes, ma’am.”
Her stomach did a happy little flip. “What if I told you I only started modeling to stick it to my parents?”
“Was that the case?”
She nodded. “They were already gone by the time a modeling agent discovered me, but it didn’t matter. All my life I wanted them to notice me, and they never did. When I told them I had no interest in going to law school, it got even worse. Beau had already disappointed them by deciding to be an artist, so I guess my decision not to go into law was the final straw. That’s when I became completely invisible.”