Arouse Suspicion (6 page)

He recalled her wet T-shirt and the pebbled nipples beneath it. That sight had been a helluva lot sexier than Miss Bambi lying in her full nude glory on the bed. The jungle temptress hadn't tempted him in the least, but Danni and her drenched shirt...

Nick felt his erection pressing against his boxers. Despite what he'd told Danni, he always slept in underwear. Maybe he'd just been trying to get a rise out of her—she was so easy to tease. Instead,
he'd
gotten the rise.

He stifled a groan.

If he and Danni were going to remain in each other's space until Paddy's murderer was found, then Nick had better prepare himself for an extended case of blue balls. Then again, he'd been physically attracted to women before, and he'd survived. He suspected he'd survive this frustration, too.

He thought of ice-cold igloos and hairy-footed hobbits, willing his lust—and a certain body part—to deflate. As his testosterone-charged blood cooled, he wondered how big a mistake he'd made by involving Danni. If she was hurt because he'd asked for her help...

He wasn't certain his conscience could take any more blows. He'd already failed four men—fellow soldiers and friends. What would happen if he failed Danni, too?

A low moan sounded, and Gus lifted her head from Nick's leg. The sound had come from Danni's room. Nick listened intently and heard her again, but this time she was speaking. Only he couldn't understand her mumbled words behind the closed door. He debated going in there to see if she was okay.

"No!"

Nick shot up out of bed. Ignoring his body's complaints, he raced across the hall. Gus followed him, whining softly as she pressed against Nick's bare legs. The doorknob turned beneath Nick's hand.

Relief flooded through him when he found her alone and not being attacked.

"Stay," he told Gus.

The dog wagged her tail once and plopped down on the hall carpet.

Nick stepped into Danni's room. In the dim moonlight, he could see her thrashing about on her bed. Her mouth was open in a soundless scream, and Nick reached out toward her, but stopped before his fingers made contact. Bringing someone out of a nightmare was tricky. He knew from experience.

"Danni, wake up," he urged. "Danni, it's Nick. C'mon, it's just a nightmare. It's not real."

She continued to murmur, "I'm sorry. I should've—I couldn't—" Danni opened her eyes, panting as if she'd just run a four-minute mile.

Nick rested his hand on her shoulder, which was damp with fear sweat. "Shhhh, it's okay, Danni. You're safe."

"Nick?" The timid voice didn't sound anything like the self-assured woman he knew.

"That's right," he replied softly. "I heard you yelling in your sleep."

Danni pushed herself upright, and the moonlight reflected in her hair and skin with pale silver brushstrokes. She shoved her sleep-mussed hair back, away from her face. "I'm sorry I woke you. I-I don't usually have nightmares."

Nick perched on the edge of the mattress. "Mind if I turn on a light?"

"Go ahead."

He flicked on the small lamp by her bed and immediately noticed her pallor. Something leapt in the vicinity of his heart. "It's not surprising, considering everything that's happened in the past week."

A wild curl spilled across her creased brow, and he caught the silkiness between his thumb and forefinger. After rolling the strand between his fingers, he reluctantly released it, ignoring the warm arousal meandering through his veins at the intimacy.

"I hate it when I lose control," she said, her fists pressed into her thighs.

"There are some things you can't control, Danni," he said quietly. "Dreams are one of them. Death is another." He glanced out the window as his chest tightened with the memory of those same words being spoken to him. He doubted Danni would heed them any more than he had.

A satiny palm against his cheek guided his gaze back to her face. "And there are some things we
do
have control over." She leaned forward, then stopped an inch from his lips, relinquishing control to him.

Nick's heart hammered in his chest, and he traveled the rest of the distance to her lips, pressing his gently against her sweet, pliant ones. She opened her mouth, granting him access, and he tasted her. Nick moaned deep in his throat. Desire stampeded through his blood. He plunged his hands into her thick hair, the wild tendrils twining around his fingers.

Danni wrapped her arms around Nick's waist and urged him downward. For a moment, he was afraid he'd combust where her hard nipples dug into his chest... then he hoped he would. He wanted her with almost frightening intensity.

Her hands crept under his T-shirt, hot and skilled in her exploration of his bare skin. She pinched his nipples, making him gasp with pleasure. He longed to see her eyes, to see the hunger he knew would match his own, but she kept her gaze aimed at his chest.

"I want you, Sirocco."

Nick hardly recognized her husky voice, but he did recognize the desperate passion in it. She'd just lost her father, and the nightmare had left her even more emotionally vulnerable.

He took hold of her wrists to halt her inflaming touches. "No," he said, his voice rough with suppressed desire. "I won't take advantage of you."

She lifted her head and met his gaze, her face flushed with passion. He'd never seen anything so damned hot.

"You won't be. I just want to forget. Please help me forget," she whispered.

Nick's pulse roared in his ears, his too long ignored libido more than willing to accept her invitation. But he had no right to use her vulnerability to appease his physical needs.

Yet, he understood too well the frantic desire to forget. After he'd been rescued, he'd found too much time to remember. To stop the agonizing memories, he'd spent every spare moment losing himself in alcohol and faceless women. If anybody could understand Danni's need to lose herself in sex, it was him.

He frowned, remembering his empty wallet. "I don't have any protection."

"I do. My backpack. Side pocket."

Nick spotted her bag beside the bed and, cursing his weakness, he leaned over and snagged it. After laying the small foil pack on the extra pillow, he eagerly tugged her baggy shirt off, his hands sliding over the contours of her breasts. Returning to the soft flesh, he captured their fullness in his palms.

He kissed her lips, then moved to her satiny cheek and down to her smooth jaw. He traced her ear with his tongue and dipped inside to tease and tickle.

Danni clawed at his shoulders, and he felt the twinge of his pulled muscles, but it was insignificant compared to the other things going on in and around him. Danni caressed his short hair and nibbled his exposed throat.

It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, and fiery lust nearly incinerated all other thoughts. His boxers rubbed his too-sensitive erection, sending both painful and pleasurable messages to his brain.

Danni pushed the covers away, revealing smooth, golden skin and baby-blue bikini underwear. Nick took a moment to merely drink in her feminine curves, the gentle indent of her waist, the tempting flare of her hips, and her long, slender legs. His lungs reminded him to breathe, and he drew in gulps of air. Then he skimmed off his T-shirt and underwear and tossed them away.

Danni's hot gaze settled on Nick's groin, then moved back to his face. She reached for him, her expression filled with a need as great as his. He straddled her, a knee on either side of her hips, and leaned down. His hard penis brushed against her soft belly. He froze, afraid he'd embarrass himself. God, it had been too damned long since he'd made love to a woman. And even longer since he'd been this excited, this anxious to slide into a woman's wet heat.

To delay the inevitable, he dropped light kisses on her half-masted eyelids, her cute pug nose, her dainty but oh-so-stubborn chin. He continued the line of kisses down her chest, to each breast, to her belly button, and to the elastic waistband of her bikinis. He raised his head as her warm, musky scent tempted and bedeviled him.

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

Nick kissed her navel once more, then divested her of the last cloth barrier between them. He nuzzled the juncture of her thighs, where the scent of her was the keenest. He tasted her, and she arched upward, a cry breaking from her parted lips.

"Now," Danni said, her tone breathy.

Unable to resist any longer, he quickly tore open the flat pack, and his fingers fumbled with the latex.

Nick wanted—no, needed—to go slow. But Danni clearly was ready. She wrapped her willowy legs around his waist and crossed her ankles at his back.

With a groan of surrender, Nick eased into her. Danni's wet, tight heat encircled him, squeezed him. He couldn't
not
move, especially when Danni rocked her hips upward, taking him even deeper.

"Please, Nick, please," she pleaded, the pupils of her eyes nearly obliterating the blue. She raked her nails up and down his back, increasing his need to find release.

Unable to resist both her words and his body's demands, Nick drew back, then plunged into her. She met him stroke for stroke until she climaxed with a strangled cry. The ripples through her body induced Nick's orgasm, bringing waves of ecstasy crashing through him.

Nick collapsed but remembered to roll to the side so he wouldn't crush her. He took care of the condom, turned off the lamp, and reached for Danni, who was well on the path back to slumber.

"Thanks, Nick," she said, her voice husky. She curled against his side, her head resting below his chin and her breath creating moist trails across his chest.

Sated and feeling strangely protective of the warm bundle in his arms, Nick kissed her crown. "You're welcome, Danni," he whispered tenderly.

Chapter Five

Utter silence and a full bladder awakened Nick. It took him a few moments to realign his brain cells and remember where he was. And why.

A part of him regretted what he'd done, but she'd been so hungry, so passionate. Only a saint could've refused her, and he was no saint.

The empty side of the bed was cool, telling him Danni had risen some time ago. He glanced at the digital clock radio on the nightstand: 8:03 a.m.

Damn the woman! Danni had gone alone to meet Sam Richmond for breakfast. After their conversation about sticking together, she'd still gone without him.

He threw off his covers and found his muscles were even sorer than they'd been last night. Of course, the sexual aerobics probably hadn't helped. Well, maybe it hadn't helped his muscle aches, but it had helped him overcome his insomnia.

He stood carefully, tugged on his boxers, and hobbled down the hall to the bathroom he'd used last night. Once that mission was completed, he slowly swung one arm, then the other, in a wide arc to loosen them. A few minutes later, the tight muscles eased enough that he could actually lift his arms without grimacing.

Grabbing the borrowed bathrobe, Nick went downstairs, the creaking steps a harsh contrast to the empty silence. Gus was sprawled on her side on the carpet in the living room, in much the same position she'd been last night before she'd followed Nick to bed. Rather, his first bed.

His irritation with Danni grew. Why didn't she understand that she could be in danger—deadly danger? Why did she have to be so damned stubborn about this?

He smelled coffee and ducked into the kitchen to find a nearly full pot. There was also a bowl of water on the floor for Gus. Nick's irritation with Danni eased slightly.

He found a cup and filled it with the rich, dark brew. Gus padded into the kitchen, her toenails clicking on the tile. She paused beside Nick and waited until he petted her before lapping some water and returning to the living room.

As Nick drank his coffee, he spotted a white piece of paper with his name on it on the refrigerator, held by a Golden Gate Bridge magnet. He unfolded the note.

"Nick. Don't leave the house. Unless someone followed us last night, you should be safe. Danni. P.S. I let Gus out to take care of business this morning and gave her some hamburger from the freezer."

No apology or mention of where she'd gone. All she'd told him last night was that she was meeting Sam Richmond for breakfast. He crushed the note in his fist and tossed it onto the counter, then found the phone book and punched in a number.

"D. Hawkins, Private Investigations. How may I help you?" the voice at the other end answered.

What was her name. Karen? Carol? No, Cathy.

"Cathy, it's Nick Sirocco. Did Danni tell you where she was going to be this morning?"

"Mr. Sirocco," Cathy purred. "I haven't heard from Danni since you left
together
yesterday." After a slight pause, she asked, "Did you have a good time?"

Momentary panic shot through him, then he realized she couldn't know what transpired between him and Danni during the night. "We got the pictures for your client." Although he knew that wasn't what she was fishing for, he wasn't about to bite. "Danni said she was going to meet Sam Richmond for breakfast this morning. Do you know where they might've met?"

"Their usual breakfast spot is the Pancake Parlor."

"Thanks." He ended the call before Cathy could ask him any more questions. He riffled through the phone book and got the address for the restaurant, then called a cab.

Nick took a quick shower and brushed his teeth with his finger and toothpaste. It felt strange to use Paddy's toiletries, but Nick figured he wouldn't have minded. However, Nick suspected he wouldn't feel so generous about him sleeping with his daughter.

After nabbing a door key from the key rack in the kitchen, Nick left Gus asleep on the carpet and locked the house. Impatient, he went onto the porch to watch for his taxi. A gray-haired woman wearing a dress four decades out of fashion emerged from the house next door. She did a double take, which might've been funny, except that Nick was too busy composing his tirade against Danni.

"What're you doing over there, young man?" the old lady demanded in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Waiting for a cab," he replied.

Her eyes narrowed behind round, wire-rimmed glasses. "Did you know Patrick Hawkins?"

Nick sighed at the unavoidable cross-examination. "He was a good friend." He suddenly realized he had an opportunity to ask some questions about the night Paddy died, and he may as well take advantage of it. He stepped over to the edge of the porch. "My name's Nick Sirocco."

"Mrs. Sarah Countryman. Was that Danielle with you last night?"

Nick wasn't surprised she'd noticed their arrival; every neighborhood had a Mrs. Sarah Countryman. "That's right."

Mrs. Countryman crossed her arms and fixed him a glare behind her round lenses. "When I was your age, men and women didn't spend the night together under one roof unless they were married or related. Which are you?"

Damned if Sarah Countryman didn't make him feel like a schoolboy. "Neither." He couldn't even reassure her nothing had happened under that roof, unless he wanted to lie, and he had a feeling Mrs. Countryman was a human lie detector. "I suppose it was pretty quiet with just Paddy living here, huh?"

Mrs. Countryman's expression lost some of its harshness. "He was a gentleman. He did as good a job as a man can do raising a girl alone. But Danielle was quite the handful—rebellious and stubborn in high school. Poor Patrick had no idea how to handle her. I tried to help, but I was busy teaching up until ten years ago, about the same time Danielle graduated."

Although Nick was there to learn more about the night Paddy died, he couldn't help being curious about Danni. "With all the kids Paddy worked with in the youth center, you'd think he'd be the last person to have trouble with his own."

Mrs. Countryman straightened her thin shoulders. "Maybe that's the reason he
did
have trouble with his own daughter. He was too busy with those others."

Shit.
It'd been staring him in the face all along. He'd sensed Danni's initial animosity toward him, but he'd put it off as her abrasive personality. But if she had been jealous of her father's attentions to him and other kids like him, it was no wonder she was bitter. It would also explain the rift between father and daughter.

It didn't, however, explain why someone would murder Paddy.

"Did you see or hear anything the night Paddy died?" Nick asked.

She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him shrewdly. "The officer I spoke to that night told me he committed suicide."

"Did you believe him?"

"Why would he lie?"

Nick gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "No reason." He spotted a blue-and-white cab coming down the street. "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Countryman."

"Good-bye, Mr. Sirocco." Her expression was thoughtful as she returned to her house.

Nick wondered if she knew anything useful. Maybe he could speak with her later, after he talked some sense into Danni, if that were possible. He slid into the taxi's backseat and gave the driver the restaurant's address.

"I don't know, Danni," Sam Richmond said. "The rain was pretty heavy. It would've been easy for a driver to miss seeing you."

Danni counted to ten as she took a sip of her coffee liberally laced with cream and artificial sweetener. "I heard a squeal of tires, then it was almost on top of us."

"Us?" Sam squinted at her, his craggy face drawn in a scowl. "Who was with you?"

Hearing the bell above the door, Danni glanced at the entrance and spotted a familiar face, but his angry expression wasn't even in the same universe as the look he'd given her last night when they'd— She cut the memory off before it could take substance. That had been a mistake— both hers and his.

"Hello, Hawkins," Nick said to Danni, his voice so cold the words froze in the air.

Sam stood. "Rocky, what're you doing here?"

"Sam." Nick shook his hand. "Danni promised me breakfast, then skipped out."

Danni's cheeks flushed hotly. "I did no such thing, Sirocco. I left you a note and told you to stay put until I got back."

"Maybe I should leave," Sam said, nabbing his ball cap from the tabletop.

"Stay." Nick and Danni spoke at the same time.

Sighing, Sam lowered himself back into his chair. Nick sat in the seat next to Danni. She tried to inch away from him, but he grabbed her chair and held it in place.

"You're not getting away from me again, Hawkins," Nick warned.

"Cut the macho crap, Sirocco," she growled back.

Sam's eyes twinkled. "You two obviously know each other well."

"Apparently not well enough," Nick said.

Danni picked up her coffee cup and was tempted to dump the contents in Nick's lap. One glance at him told her he knew what she was thinking, and she damned well better not follow through.

"So you were the one who almost got run down with Danni girl, huh?" Sam asked, breaking the tension.

Nick shot Danni a look she couldn't translate but answered the question. "Yes. Hard to say if it was accidental or intentional, though."

"Danni thinks it was intentional."

"She also has an overactive imagination," Nick said in a patronizing tone.

To hell with just a cup of coffee; Danni was going to dump the whole carafe in his lap.
"She
is sitting right beside you, and
she
thought you were certain it was intentional, too."

Nick shrugged. "I tend to see things clearer the morning after."

Danni tensed, reading his layered meaning. She didn't need this complication, but it was her own fault. When Nick had awakened her last night, all she wanted to do was forget, to let the heat of passion burn away the nightmare's icy grip. That she was incredibly attracted to Nick Sirocco only made it that much more pleasurable. It wasn't the first time she'd used sex to forget, but she'd never enjoyed it quite so much.

"I told him about your suspicions," Danni said. "But he already knew."

Sam nodded and pinned Nick with a sharp gaze. "Sergeant Rodgers told me you were at the station asking a lot of questions. He said you think Paddy was murdered." His expression hardened. "Can't you let him rest in peace, Rocky? We all knew how hard it was on him being forced to retire. The force was his life. He told me six months ago that if he retired, he'd go crazy."

Nick's lean jaw tightened. "He had resigned himself to retiring and was even talking about trips he was planning. He started helping me with a project and was excited about that, too. And he was going to continue his volunteer work at the youth center." Nick fixed his gaze on Danni. "He also told me he was looking forward to spending time with his daughter, if she'd let him."

Danni's breath caught in her throat, and her heart triple-timed in her chest. Had her father actually confided in him? If so, why hadn't he mentioned it before now?

Sam's bushy eyebrows furrowed across his brow. "He told you a helluva lot, Rocky."

"We were friends."

The waitress stopped by and dropped off another cup for Nick. Instead of letting him fill it himself, the woman picked up the carafe and did it.

"Thank you," Nick murmured.

"You're welcome. Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked, her hip pressed against Nick's arm.

He looked past her breasts, which were level with his face, and smiled. "No, thank you."

Danni watched the disappointed waitress walk away and wasn't surprised when the woman turned to take another look before disappearing into the kitchen. But the twitch of jealousy in Danni's stomach was a surprise.

"Look, I know you thought of Paddy as a father, Rocky, but I think you're wrong here. He was found in his own bed with his own service revolver in his hand. There was no sign of a struggle," Sam argued. His expression turned melancholy as he looked at Danni. "I don't understand why you're helping him, Danni. You've seen the evidence. You were a cop. It's a tragic but straightforward suicide. There's no reason to search for a killer who doesn't exist."

Torn between her surrogate parent and the man who'd stolen her father's affections, Danni shouldn't have had any problem making her decision. But she'd heard her father's message on Nick's answering machine. And the more Sam tried to talk her out of continuing the investigation, the more determined she became to unravel the mystery.

"Too many things don't add up," Danni said. "If everything Nick said about Dad is true, then there was no reason for him to kill himself."

"You're missing motivation, Danni," Sam said. "Even the greenest rookie knows there has to be a motive if there was a murder."

"I know, I know," she said impatiently. "Finding a motive will give us the killer."

Sam laid his giant hand atop her fist. "I wish I could help you, Danni girl, but your dad and I didn't see each other that much since I retired." He smiled self-consciously. "Nancy's kept me busy doing things around the house that I hadn't gotten around to for twenty-five years. And since we bought the boat, we've started fishing every weekend."

Danni grasped his hand, pleased to hear he'd finally started doing the things he used to talk about. "I'm really glad to hear that, Sam. How's Nancy doing?"

Sadness entered the older man's face. "Better. But the doctors say there's really nothing to stop the degeneration of nerves. She'll end up in a wheelchair." He forced a smile. "That's why we have to make the best of what time we have."

"Dad told me one time that he wished he'd found a woman like Nancy." Danni glanced down to hide the un- welcome sting of moisture. "I think he was too afraid to try again after my mom left us."

"He used to tell me the same thing, even after Nancy was diagnosed last year." He released Danni and stood. "I better get going. I told her I'd clean the windows today. She likes the sun shining in the house."

Danni stood and hugged Sam, and his strong arms gathered her close. He'd been the one she'd gone to when she'd been picked up joyriding in high school, and he'd been the one who talked her father out of sending her off to a private girls' school.