“Call him,” Rafe gently prodded. “If she's the one, don't let her get away.”
Nick started grinning. For the first time in weeks, a ray of light seeped through the gray, dismal landscape he'd been inhabiting. If Ian offered him a job, he'd take it. He'd fly to San Francisco and propose to Samantha the way he should have done before.
Over the next few hours, he convinced himself it would all work out, but after his brother had left and time slipped away, doubts began to creep in. Samantha had never said she loved him. Maybe she wasn't returning his calls because she was glad to be rid of him.
His chest went tight at the thought. One thing he knew for sure. If he went to San Francisco, he wasn't leaving until he knew how she felt.
And if she loved him? Well, he damned well wasn't giving up until she said yes.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Samantha stood up from where she sat in front of the computer in her office at The Perfect Pup. She'd finished her latest market survey and assembled the data she'd collected. They were expanding the chain, looking for new locations. She had plenty to do, but for now the day was over. It was time to go home.
She sighed as she packed up her desk and got ready to leave. Before she'd met Nick, she'd looked forward to returning to her cozy apartment, having a glass of wine and relaxing after work, or doing a little yoga, maybe pampering herself with a bubble bath or trying out some new recipe.
Since her return, she dreaded the hours in her lonely apartment.
“So you want to go for a drink with me and Luke?” Abby stood next to the desk in a pair of leggings, a short skirt, and boots that came to her knees. Samantha had been so lost in thought, she hadn't heard her friend approach.
“I like Luke,” she said. “He's really great, but I'm just not in the mood.” And when she was with the two of them, she missed Nick so much it was an actual physical pain.
“You sure? We'll probably get some sushi afterward.”
Samantha grimaced. She might be a city girl, but she still hadn't developed a taste for raw fish. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She rose from the desk. “You go ahead, I'll lock up.” No use getting home any earlier than she had to.
Once the doors were locked and the lights turned off, it didn't take long to reach her apartment down the block. Samantha climbed the stairs and let herself in, went straight to the fridge and poured herself a glass of chardonnay.
“Hello, baby.”
She jumped and nearly spilled her wine as she whirled toward the familiar male voice. “Nick!”
He rose from the chair like a shadow, stretching out his long legs, coming to his full, impressive height. He was wearing black slacks and a light blue shirt the color of his gorgeous eyes, reminding her of how handsome he had looked in Las Vegas.
Dear God, how could she have forgotten how beautiful he was?
“How did you get in?” she asked, knowing he'd charmed the manager or picked the lock. Nick was a man of many talents.
“I told the manager I wanted to surprise you. I guess she figured I was harmless.”
She wanted to laugh.
Harmless
was the last thing Nick Brodie ever could be. She wanted to cry. Why had he come? Didn't he know how much it hurt just to look at him?
He reached down next to the chair he'd been sitting in, picked up a long gold box with a red satin ribbon tied around it, strode over and rested the box in her arms. A dozen long-stemmed red roses, their petals moist with dew, called to her through the clear, cellophane window.
“I tried to think of something more original,” Nick said, “but the roses just seemed right.”
Just as they had been before. “I love roses. They're . . . they're my favorite flower.” She had to leave before she did something foolish like rush into his arms. “I'd better go put them in water.” She hurried toward the kitchen, as if the distance between them would somehow protect her from the aching emotions roiling inside her.
She took the lid off the box with shaking hands, reached under the sink and took out a cut crystal vase, set it on the counter. Nick walked up behind her, stood so close she could feel the heat of his tall, powerful body.
“I've missed you,” he said softly.
Leaving the flowers in the sink, Samantha turned, tried to steel herself. “Why did you come, Nick?” Tears filled her eyes. “God, I wish you hadn't. I'm trying . . . trying to get over you.”
He pulled her close, settled his mouth very softly over hers, stirring the heat and touching her heart.
“I don't want you to get over me,” he said, wiping away a tear that tracked down her cheek. “I want you to marry me.”
Samantha closed her eyes, unable to stop the flood of wetness. Nick's hand clasped hers as he towed her into the living room and settled her on the sofa.
“Just hear me out, okay?”
What else could she do? He was there and she loved him.
“I got a job in Seattle. My cousin, Ian, owns a security firm. They do personal protection, private investigation, stuff like that. Seattle's not that far from San Francisco. And it's not all that far from Alaska.”
If she could have moved, she would have been in his arms. Her heart was twisting, squeezing, pumping hope through her veins. When she didn't answer, he started talking again.
“So . . . the weather's not that bad, and we could get a house big enough for your family to come and visit. You could maybe keep the job with your friend, Abby, work out of a home office.”
Fresh tears welled. He would do that for her? Because the moment she had seen him standing in her living room, she had known she would do anything for him.
Even if it meant freezing her buns off in Alaska.
But she had to be sure that this would work for Nick, too. “Are you sure you could be happy there, Nick?” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Seattle isn't your home.”
“I've thought a lot about it. I'm not like Rafe and Dylan. Alaska is in their blood. When I was with the Rangers, I traveled all over the world, spent time in a dozen different places. Washington's got mountains and forests, and I'll be working at what I'm good at, just like you said.”
She wanted this. Wanted to marry him so badly. “We . . . we have . . . nothing in common. I'm a homebody, you're a man's man, deep in your bones.”
He bent down, pressed his mouth against the side of her neck, made her yearn for him.
“We have a lot more in common than you think,” he said. “We both like movies, right? And great food. And pizza, don't forget that. I can find men friends who like to fish, guys who like to ride snowmobiles and climb mountains. I don't need a woman to do that with me. I need a woman to come home to, one who'll give me children and make us a family.”
Her throat closed up. Before she could speak, he pulled a blue velvet box out of his pocket, then went down on one knee in front of her. “I love you, Samantha Hollis. Will you marry me?”
She couldn't breathe. The ring was beautiful, a single glittering diamond, the setting perfect for her small hand. Leaning toward him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and just hung on. “I love you so much, Nick. I've been dead without you. I want to marry you more than anything in the world.”
Nick slid the ring on her finger, stood up and pulled her into his arms. “We're going to make it work, baby.”
“Yes.” She smiled at him through her tears, started to grin. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Nick grinned back. “How about we do it tomorrow?”
Samantha laughed and shook her head. “As much as I'd like that, you have to meet my parents and my brother. Some of my friends. Soon you'll be part of my family.”
A slow smile spread over Nick's face. “I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.” And then he kissed her, soft and deep.
Samantha kissed him back with all the love in her heart. For the first time in weeks, she truly felt home.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nick had talked Samantha into coming back to Alaska with him to help him move. So far they hadn't gotten much packing done, since they'd been spending most of their time in bed.
He found himself smiling. He'd met Samantha's family before they left California, and aside from a lecture from her dad about keeping her safe and never putting her in danger again, he seemed to have passed the test. He was getting married, and it couldn't happen soon enough to suit him.
A few things had happened while he had been gone. Jimmy and Mary were back in their house, Jimmy in school again. But the two of them would be spending the summer in Mountain Village so Jimmy could get to know the Alaska Native side of his family. Being in the Yupik village had given him a sense of belonging Jimmy had never really had.
Three days ago, the court had ruled in favor of exhuming Alex Evans's body. Though it hadn't happened yet, Nick was certain this time the coroner would find evidence of murder. And Jankowski, Sorenson, Petrova, and Evans was under investigation for money laundering and other possible criminal activities.
He looked up from the box he was filling with some of his high school athletic trophies to see Samantha walking out of his bedroom, reminding him of what they'd been doing in there less than an hour ago. His body stirred and he bit back a grin. He couldn't believe he was getting hard all over again.
“I need some more boxes,” Samantha said. “The packing tape's on the coffee table. Can you make a few up for me?”
“Sure. I'll have to get the rest of the cardboard out of the Explorer. I'll be right back.” She returned to the bedroom, and he headed outside. Grabbing the flat, unmade boxes out of the back of the SUV, he started toward the house.
Hearing the sound of a man's voice talking to Samantha in the living room, he paused at the back door. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it, and he didn't like the guy's tone.
“Where is he?” the man asked sharply.
“Who are you?” Samantha asked. “How did you get in here?”
Nick moved quietly, setting the boxes aside and opening the back door, easing through the mudroom into the kitchen. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but his instincts were screaming, and he wished he could get his hands on his Glock.
“Door was unlocked,” the man said. “Thoughtful of Nick. But of course this is Alaska. No one pays much attention to locks up here.”
Flattening himself against the wall next to the fridge, Nick caught a glimpse of a red-haired man standing just inside the front door, over six feet tall, with very pale blue eyes.
Kenny Archer.
One of the detectives he had worked with in the Anchorage PD. A bad feeling crept down Nick's spine.
Archer smiled, but there was a hard edge to it. “I asked you where he is.” Samantha gasped as Archer pulled a pistol and aimed it at the center of her chest. “I'm not going to ask you again.”
Nick's hand balled into a fist.
“He . . . he went to town for . . . for . . .”
“I'm right here, Archer.” Nick stepped into the open, and the gun swept in his direction. Very slowly, Nick raised his hands. “You got a beef with me, Kenny, leave the lady out of it.”
“I don't give a fuck about her. You're the bastard who ruined my life.”
The muscles in Nick's jaw went tense. “So I guess Ford Sanders decided to cut a deal.”
“That's right. He set me up to take the fall, but you're the bastard who stirred up this mess. You just couldn't leave things alone.”
“I gotta say, I never would have figured you for the dirty cop, Kenny. I would have bet my last dollar it was Taggart.”
“Taggart's a fool. He's not smart enough to know what's good for him. He could have been living the high life. If he hadn't been such a candy-ass, we both could have come out of this thing rich.”
“Sorry it didn't work out for you.” Nick turned his attention to Samantha. “Honey, why don't you go on out front and let Officer Archer and me work this out?”
Her eyes cut from him to Kenny and back. She didn't want to leave him. Dammit, would she ever do what he told her? Her dad was going to kill him.
“Go now,” Nick said in his Ranger voice, wanting her safe and hoping like hell she'd obey.
Samantha turned and started walking.
“Hold it right there,” Archer said, halting her before she had taken two steps. “You aren't going anyplace. Not until this is over. Now get over here next to Brodie.”
She moved slowly, her eyes on Nick's face. When she reached him, he eased her a little behind him.
“So what's your plan, Archer? You're wanted for a lot of things, but at this point, murder isn't one of them.”
“Shut up.”
“You need to think this over, Kenny. There's always a chance you can make a deal, get a shorter sentence. Hell, you might even get off with no time served.”
“Bullshit, Brodie. Thanks to you, I've got nothing but jail time ahead of me. Killing you is the only thing that makes this all worthwhile.” Archer raised the weapon and every muscle in Nick's body went tense. He had to make a move.
“Wait!” Samantha stepped out from behind him, making his jaw go tight, making him want to paddle her sweet little ass. “I've got a plane ticket to Seattle in my purse. You could move up the date, go in my place. You could get away, Kenny. You could leave Alaska and not have to go to jail.”
It wouldn't work. You couldn't trade places with someone on an airline. Not since 9/11. Which Samantha surely knew.
“You think I'm stupid?” Kenny said with a sneer. “Maybe I should kill you, too.”
The slight distraction was the opening Nick needed. He launched himself at Kenny, knocking him backward, both of them crashing to the floor. Archer's semi-auto went off with a roar that shook the house and muffled Samantha's scream.
Nick's shoulder took the brunt of the landing and began to throb as he wrestled with Archer for the weapon, clenching his jaw against the pain, and slamming the man's gun hand against the floor, once, twice, three times.
Archer hung on. “I'm going to kill you!” he shouted, fighting with all his strength.
“You aren't killing anyone, Archer.” Both of them froze. Nick looked up to see a man standing in the kitchen doorway, a gleaming, freshly polished, semi-auto in his hand. Captain Raymond Taggart. “Drop your weapon or I'll shoot you right where you are.”
Archer hesitated.
“Do it now!” Two uniformed police officers, guns drawn, backed up the captain.
For an instant, Archer's finger tightened around the trigger. If the pistol went off, aimed the way it was, the bullet might hit Samantha. Then Kenny's muscles relaxed and Nick pulled the weapon from his hand, tossed it across the floor out of reach.
He came to his feet and hauled Archer up, dragged him over and slammed him against the wall, had him spread-eagled before Taggart had holstered his weapon.
For the first time, Nick noticed the flashing blue and red lights of the patrol cars parked around the outside of the house. The captain tossed him a pair of handcuffs and Nick locked them around Archer's wrists.
“Get that piece of dirt out of here,” the captain said to his men, and the uniforms came forward to haul Kenny's sorry ass away.
Nick walked over to Samantha and pulled her into his arms. “You okay?”
She swallowed, nodded. “I think I'm getting used to this kind of stuff.”
His mouth edged up. The lady was really something, and he was one lucky sonofabitch.
He turned to look at Raymond Taggart. “I thought it was you.”
Taggart smiled coldly. “I never liked you, Brodie. You're too much of a wild card. But I won't have a dirty cop in my department. I'm grateful you exposed Officer Archer for the scumbag he is.”
“How did you know he was here?”
“I put a bug on his car. I had a hunch it was him after what happened up at Reeves's cabin. I wanted to see where he'd lead us. This morning, Ford Sanders turned state's evidence. He'd been holding out, trying to cut the best deal, which apparently he finally did. I wanted to be there when we collared Archer.”
“Glad you showed up when you did.”
Taggart just nodded. “I'll want a statement from you and Ms. Hollis. I'll need you to come down to the station.”
“Samantha's had enough excitement for one day. I'll bring her in tomorrow morning.”
Taggart's jaw clenched. He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “All right, tomorrow then.” He started walking, stopped and turned back. “I heard a rumor you were leaving, moving to Seattle.”
“That's right.”
Taggart's lips curled into a smile that really wasn't. “Couldn't happen to a nicer guy,” he said, and walked out of the house.
Nick looked over at Samantha and both of them burst out laughing.