Dangerous Kisses (7 page)

She swallowed against the increasing lump in her throat. It scared her to think how much control Jake already exerted over her feelings in such a short time. She should be thankful he’d walked out the door. His exit gave her the time she needed to rebuild her resolve before he strode back in looking like delectable sin itself.

When Kevin O’Malley asked her to dance, she accepted. She couldn’t stay at the table alongside Lou Anne’s hopes and her own weakness any longer.

Kevin led her through one dance and half of another before she noticed Jake had returned to the room. He stood near the back corner flanked by a couple of other guys and their dates. Yet, surrounded as he was, he stared straight at her. As Kevin spun her around, she lost sight of Jake for a moment. When she spotted him again, his attention had been diverted by something one of the other men was saying. She tried to ignore the strange sense of loss that pulled at her heart.

Crazy. She was going absolutely crazy.

"So, have you all found out anything new on the Field case?" she asked Kevin, trying to forget the intensity she’d seen burning in Jake’s eyes from across the room, a look she didn’t know how to read. Was he angry with her? If so, he could just eat his anger. All she’d done was try to show a little compassion at a moment when she’d thought he might need some.

"I’m not at liberty to say." Kevin gave her a mischievous yet attractive smile.

"Let me guess, on threat of death from Detective Radley?"

"Nothing quite so dramatic."

As the song continued, she forced herself not to turn her eyes in Jake’s direction. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d brought her simply because of his intense need to keep her safe. She wished that protectiveness didn’t touch such a strong cord within her.

Against her best intentions, she looked up once to see Jake talking to his mother. The air tightened in her lungs. The man was simply beautiful to behold. Midnight hair, fathomless eyes, and a body that would tempt even the saintliest woman. When she’d turned in his boat cabin to see him in his black suit, she’d nearly melted. Black. The color suited him. Dark, mysterious, dangerous. Just like that kiss they’d shared in front of his mother’s house.

"Is something wrong?" Kevin asked.

"What? Oh, no. Why?"

"You stiffened up all of a sudden."

"Sorry. I guess I’m not used to these shoes."

"Uh huh." Kevin didn’t buy for a moment her feeble excuse. Heck, she wouldn’t buy it either.

Before she could offer a response, Jake’s deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Come on, O’Malley, why don’t you go bug one of the other ladies in the room."

Kevin tried to suppress a smile that tugged at one edge of his mouth, but he didn’t succeed in hiding his amusement. When he moved away from the dance floor, Sydney tamped down the urge to follow him. The intensity emanating from Jake like waves of heat nearly scorched her. Yes, she was definitely losing her mind.

He startled her by taking her hand and pulling her into his arms. The feel of his muscular body beneath his suit dried her mouth and made her knees wobble. She licked her lips and reached for the control she so desperately needed.

"I didn’t take you for a dancer, Radley."

"My mother seems to believe since I brought you I should dance with you."

His words sliced through her heart. Hot, stupid tears burned her eyes, causing her to look over his shoulder to prevent him from seeing them. So, she didn’t affect him at all. The fierce attraction she felt for him only ran one way. She’d known him less than a week. Why did his words hurt so much?

Because he’d kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. Because he’d stirred a need within her she hadn’t acknowledged in a long time — the need to open her heart to someone and have that person do the same.

No. She blinked hard against the tears. She couldn’t care. It hurt too much when the person left. And Radley had said in his own words that he liked freedom more than commitment. She kept her gaze focused over his shoulder while trying to ignore the hard planes of his body as it moved against hers.

As he spun her around, she noticed Kevin dancing with a smiling young woman. From the look on their faces, he was flirting with her and she was enjoying it. Kevin’s expression changed when his gaze connected with Sydney’s. His eyes reflected what she read as concern on her behalf. Could he see her distress and the reason behind it? And if he noticed it, was it written on her face for anyone in the room to see?

"Excuse me." She pushed away from Jake and walked from the room with her head high and a false smile plastered on her lips. Not in a million years would she allow Jake Radley the satisfaction of knowing he’d upset her and shaken her world to its very foundation.

****

Jake stood in the middle of the dance floor alone — just as he should be. He hated being such a jerk to Sydney, but he couldn’t let her develop any romantic ideas about him. He’d tried to convince himself that Sydney was just like Jackie Gardner, the reporter who’d betrayed him, but something about the way she talked about justice and the good guys winning made him doubt his assumption. And if she truly was a good person, she didn’t deserve to be saddled with a cop married to his job, one who might go to work one day and never come back.

He glanced over at his mother. Her face reflected the sadness and pride she’d carried like armor since his father’s death. She’d loved his father more than life and had nearly died herself when Hank was shot in the back as he ran toward safety with three little girls in his arms.

Something about Sydney hinted that she too had known sadness before, and he didn’t want to bring any more upon her.

For the next hour he moved around the room talking to colleagues and trying to forget about Sydney. Hard to do when every few seconds he looked toward the table where she and his mother sat talking. Several men asked her to dance, but she smiled as she refused them all. Despite his conviction to stay out of her personal life, the fact that she didn’t dance with anyone else pleased him.

When a few couples started making for the door, Jake moved toward the table where Sydney and his mother sat laughing about something. Sydney must not be too upset by his actions if she could laugh. While that should have brought relief, he gritted his teeth in frustration instead. How selfish was it to want her to desire him while he wasn’t willing to pursue a relationship?

"There you are. You’ve made yourself scarce this evening," his mother said when she saw him, a note of scolding behind her smile. "Luckily, Sydney has been a dear and kept me company."

"Sorry, Mom. I had some business to discuss."

"You work too much. You ought to take some time off."

"Killers don’t." He regretted the words even before they left his lips.

His mother’s smile faded. "I’m well aware of that."

An awkward moment passed before he mustered the nerve to speak again. "Are you both ready to go?"

"Yes. I’m suddenly very tired," his mother said.

Jake mentally kicked himself all the way to the car and then to his mother’s house. He walked her to the door.

"I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you."

She sighed. "I know you didn’t. But I meant what I said. You shouldn’t work so hard. You’re so like your father."

"He was a great cop. I’m not nearly so good."

"Jake, you listen to me. I know you’ve been trying to live up to your father’s image since you were fourteen, but you don’t have to. You are your own person with your own life." She looked back toward the car. "And you could have a happy one if you’d only let yourself."

"Don’t get any ideas, Mom. Sydney is simply tied up in the case I’m working on. There’s nothing between us."

"I may be getting older, but I know certain things when I see them. I think that young woman cares about you, and I’d wager you care about her, too, whether you want to admit it or not."

"We barely know each other."

"Stranger things have happened." She tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek. Then she placed her hand alongside his face. "I want to see you happy. I loved your father more than I can say, but he wasn’t perfect. Even though he loved you and me, his work held a power over him that we couldn’t compete with. That’s why he died, Jake. He wasn’t supposed to work that day, but he was driven to save those kids. He was a brave man, but I don’t want you to let your work take over everything and prevent you from knowing love."

Even if Sydney was interested, there was no way she loved him. They’d known each other less than a week and spent much of that time at odds.

He placed a kiss on his mother’s forehead, then headed back for the car. She was already at the door to her own car.

"I can bring you over to get your car in the morning," he said.

"That’s not necessary."

He didn’t have a good reason to argue with her, so he didn’t. But he followed her home, wanting to see her safely inside her apartment.

When they reached the apartment complex, she stopped at the wall of mailboxes alongside the main office.He pulled into a parking spot next to her and let his headlights illuminate her path. He looked away into the darkness when the natural sway of her hips sucked the air from his lungs. When the seconds stretched longer than he expected, he glanced back at her to find her staring into her open mailbox. Doubts forgotten, he nearly leapt from the car and strode to her side. As he moved close, he noticed her wide eyes and shaking shoulders.

"What’s wrong?"

"He’s been here," she whispered, the words laced with fear.

Jake looked into the mailbox. Fury blazed to life in his gut. Atop Sydney’s bills and junk mail sat a single, unwrapped piece of chocolate.

Jake looked back at Sydney to find her eyes wide and disbelieving. A shudder shook her shoulders as she took another step away. He scanned the area beyond the mailboxes but saw nothing in the dim light. But the exposed, helpless feeling pricked at him. Leaving the mailbox open, he stepped to Sydney’s side, wrapped an arm around her quaking shoulders and guided her toward his car, constantly searching the surrounding darkness as they moved.

Once Sydney was seated inside the car, Jake pulled his Glock from the glove compartment. After scanning the perimeter again, he retrieved his cell phone from his jacket, then slipped the garment off. He leaned back into the car and wrapped the jacket around Sydney’s shoulders.

When she looked at him, their eyes mere inches apart, he felt as if he’d never seen so deeply into a person. He shook the thought away.

"Stay in here," he said, then hit the button to lock the doors.

When he stood outside the car again, he dialed his department to request backup and an evidence collection team.

"No, there’s no body, but our guy left a calling card."

When he ended the call, he moved slowly toward the edge of the apartment office building adjacent to the mailboxes, careful not to disturb possible evidence. Another couple tried to stop for their mail, but he sent them on their way. They must have suspected he was other than he claimed for it wasn’t five minutes before a Metro patrolman pulled into the parking space next to his. Luckily, the guy recognized him and assumed gatekeeper duty, keeping everyone away from the mailbox area. A few minutes later, a still suited O’Malley and an evidence team arrived.

"At least this one won’t require an autopsy." Kevin looked at Jake’s car where Sydney still sat. "I take it the mailbox is Sydney’s?"

Jake nodded. "Bastard. Wish I could get my hands around the guy’s throat."

"Think he doesn’t like what she’s writing about him?"

"That or he’s picked his next target." Jake caught Kevin’s gaze. "The physical description – she matches it." He looked back at Sydney, her blond hair shining like a beacon in his partially lit car.

A chill slithered down his back. This bastard would get near Sydney over his cold, dead corpse.

After the evidence team combed the area around the mailboxes, the lead guy gave Jake the report. "We didn’t find much of anything, but we’ll take the chocolate and Miss Blackburn’s mail. We’ll compare it to what she received at work."

Jake glanced down the line of mailboxes. Anyone could have gotten into them even though they were supposedly locked. As proof, half a dozen stood open.

He turned to one of the patrolmen. "Did you check her apartment?"

"Yes, sir. No sign of forced entry."

"Post someone. No one goes in without my okay." He would search every inch of her apartment, but not now. Sydney was spooked, and she needed to be present and clear-headed during the sweep. She would know if something were not as it should be.

The adrenaline that had started pumping through his veins at the sight of the chocolate in the mailbox ebbed, leaving Jake drained. He’d give a week’s pay to fall into bed and sleep for three days straight, but he still had work to do. He rounded the car then nearly collapsed into his seat. He glanced over at Sydney, who appeared even more exhausted than he felt.

"Are you okay?"

Unlike the Sydney he’d come to know in the past few days, she only nodded, a weak and unconvincing nod at that.

They both needed a good night’s rest. But the only way he’d get any rest was if he knew she was safe, and he couldn’t be certain of that unless she was with him. Until they could search her apartment, the only other place he’d feel confident protecting her was his boat.

His muscles tightened and his pulse quickened at the thought. Spending the night with her in such close quarters would tempt his willpower to its limits, but keeping her safe was more important than his sexual discomfort. Nevertheless, his palms were sweating as he reached for the ignition.

Jake started the car, then headed home. Even when he cut the engine in the marina parking lot, she didn’t argue against their destination. She remained silent as he once again lifted her over the side of his boat before following.

Once inside the cabin, he flicked on a light, then rummaged in the sparsely stocked cabinets. In the back corner of one, he found some hot chocolate mix. All the while he boiled water and stirred the mix into a cup, Sydney sat on the edge of one of his chipped kitchen chairs, staring into space. She still clung to his jacket as if it would protect her from reality.

His heart squeezed to see her like that, like her spirit had been broken. He silently cursed the man who’d driven away her spark and sass.

He stepped in front of her with the steaming cup in hand. "You look chilled to the bone," he said as he held it out to her.

It took her a second but she perked up a bit, enough to relinquish the jacket and accept the hot chocolate.

"Thank you." Her voice was thin, as if from strangling her emotions.

"You might want to wait on the thanks until you taste it. I have no idea how old it is."

A faint smile tugged at her lips, a sight that alleviated some of his concern. She took a small sip. "Not bad."

Even with the warm drink, he noticed an occasional shiver skitter through her, whether from reliving the past couple of hours or from an actual chill he didn’t know. He retrieved a blanket from the footlocker at the end of his bed, then wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks." She set the almost empty cup on the table and pulled the blanket more closely around herself.

Jake slipped the uncomfortable shoes off his feet, then sat in the chair opposite Sydney’s.

"Has anything else strange happened to you in the past few days, Sydney, other than the two pieces of chocolate?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Something you might not even think about might be important."

"I’m sure. Nothing."

"Did you mention the chocolate to anyone? A co-worker? A boyfriend?"

"Are you fishing, Detective?" she asked, a bit of her spark resurfacing.

"Just doing my job."

"Ah, yes, your job."

What was that supposed to mean? He chalked it up to her being tired and somewhat scattered at the moment.

Sydney sighed long and deep, as if fatigue had taken over every cell in her body. "No, I didn’t say anything, not even to my editor. I thought you were probably right about not releasing that information."

Jake rubbed his burning eyes with his thumb and forefinger, not wanting to face facts. But they insisted on being heard. With no other direction to turn, he accepted that Sydney was likely a marked woman. She fit the same physical description as Maggie and Stephanie, but what else connected them? There had to be another tie, and he had to keep Sydney safe until he figured out what it was.

"Then you’re going to have to get used to having me around," he said, "because I think you’re next on our killer’s hit list."

****

Most days she would have argued, but at the moment she liked the thought of Jake watching out for her. Maybe her mother would still be alive if someone had seen her safely to her car that night.

"I want you to find somewhere other than your apartment to stay for awhile, at least for a few days until we can thoroughly search it."

"You think he broke into my apartment?" she asked, horrified at the thought of a cold-blooded killer walking through her home, touching her belongings. Another chill shook her shoulders.

"Maybe not, but we won’t know until we take a look around."

She stared down at the tabletop for a few seconds. "I guess I could get a room at a hotel, though that’s not exactly in my budget."

"What about friends? Family?"

"No." She said it quickly, her nerves getting the better of her. No, there was no family. And she wouldn’t put Becky in danger too by possibly drawing the killer to her door.

Jake scooted closer and squeezed her hand. "Okay. We’ll figure it out. Take it one step at a time." He looked so handsome, so caring.

She offered the best teasing smile she could muster under the circumstances. "Why, Detective, you almost sound like you care."

"I’m paid to make sure people like you are safe."

She couldn’t hold the feeble smile in place. Every time she actually thought he might care even a little, he made some comment that assured her he didn’t. But what about the way he’d held her as he’d ushered her from her mailbox to the car? Something about his touch nagged at her. Granted, she didn’t have vast knowledge in such matters, but surely the way his strong arm had cradled her, shielded her, held some deeper meaning than duty.

She yawned as she glanced at the clock on the wall. Nearly 2 a.m. "Could you take me to a hotel? I’ve got to get some sleep."

"You can stay here tonight."

His offer startled her, and her face must have reflected her surprise.

"My mind’s on the case, so I won’t be able to sleep anyway," he said. "You might as well use the bed."

She glanced toward the rumpled covers tossed across the bed in the corner. A shiver of a very different kind skittered up her spine.

"I really think I should go to a hotel."

He seemed to sense she needed some banter to cut the tension. "Well, the only way you’re getting there is if you walk in that outfit." He motioned toward her evening gown and high heels. "Besides, I’d be right outside your door there, too." He stood. "I’m going to go up on deck for awhile. You can find something more comfortable in the closet."

After he disappeared up the narrow stairs, Sydney opened the closet to find several dress shirts and slacks hanging in the small space. She stooped to examine the two drawers and finally chose a plain gray T-shirt. She checked up the stairs again, but when she didn’t see nor hear any sign of Jake, she slipped out of the dress and into the T-shirt, trying not to think that the last body it had covered was Jake’s.

The shirt came down to her knees, but it was immeasurably more comfortable than her dinner attire. She felt even better when she freed her hair from its assorted pins. Giving in to exhaustion, she slipped beneath the covers. Jake’s scent teased her as she inhaled. If Becky could see her now, she’d never hear the end of it.

Gradually, thoughts of work, being stalked and even Jake’s proximity faded away as sleep overtook her.

****

Jake drank another cup of coffee as he watched the stars twinkle across the sky. His body begged for rest, but he couldn’t stop imagining killers in the shadows beyond the boat. A few times he dozed off only to wake more worried than before. There was no reason to expect the killer lurked in the night nearby, but his nerves stretched taut all the same.

He shivered as the air grew cooler. He glanced toward the stairs leading down into the cabin. He could go below but he’d find no rest and comfort there either. How many times had he already imagined Sydney snuggled deep in his covers and ached to join her there? He shook his head and forced his gaze back to the inky darkness beyond the marina lights.

Around 4 a.m., he drifted into another nap. Images of Stephanie Mortimer and Maggie Field materialized in his mind, each of them pointing an accusing finger at him as if to say it was his fault they were dead. Another figure took shape in the distance, and he squinted to discern the person’s identity. The person, a woman, walked toward him with agonizing slowness. But when she moved close enough for him to recognize her, he wished she’d stayed away. Sydney stared back at him with lifeless eyes.

"Why, Jake? Why did you let him kill me?"

Jake woke with a violent jerk. He knocked over the half empty coffee cup as he rushed down the steps into the cabin. He sighed in relief to find Sydney curled up in his bed, sleeping as if a murderer hadn’t left his calling card in her mailbox.

Even assured of her safety, he couldn’t pull himself away from the foot of the bed. In the dim light, her hair shone like Rapunzel’s, making her appear almost angelic. He leaned against the doorway and watched her sleep, the gentle rise and fall of her breath beneath the covers. And something moved very near his heart.

His mother’s words came back to him. "I want you to know love."

What was love anyway? He loved his mother, had loved his father the way hero-worshipping sons do, but what about falling in love? He hadn’t a clue what that was like. How was a guy supposed to know when he was in danger of falling in love so he’d have enough time to dodge it?

Jake’s muscles tensed as Sydney moaned in her sleep and flipped to her opposite side, dislodging some of the covers in the process. His heart rate accelerated at the view before him, Sydney in one of his T-shirts. The excess fabric had twisted around her, outlining her full breasts. His mouth went dry, and his body ached to slide beneath those covers with her, to keep her safe while satisfying other needs.

He closed his eyes and tried to wipe the image from his mind to no avail. Watching her eyes to make sure she didn’t wake up with a man standing above her, Jake stepped forward to pull the covers back over her torso. She didn’t need the chill soaking into her, and he couldn’t handle one more second of the temptation she presented.

Jake returned to the deck more frustrated than ever. What an irony that a beautiful woman lay tangled in his sheets and he couldn’t touch her.

The quiet of the night, which usually soothed him after a difficult day, seemed ominous as the minutes wore on. Fog continued to drift across the lake’s black glass surface. There was only one way he was going to get any sleep.

He weighed anchor and cast off for the center of the lake.

****

Sydney stretched, then snuggled deeper into the covers. No matter how much she tried to open her eyes, the comfort of her bed dragged her back toward sleep. When she finally did manage to keep them open long enough to say she was awake, she sat up so suddenly she gave herself a head rush.

Where in heaven’s name was she?

As she blinked and rubbed her eyes, the previous night gradually came back to her. The dinner, the chocolate in her mailbox, Jake. She scanned her surroundings, the sparse interior of Jake’s boat. For a moment, her heart leapt into her throat. Where was he?