Dangerous to Her (11 page)

“But? Because I can hear the but in your voice.” Carefully, he pulled back on the road.

“But—I—I’m still scared of the water. I never learned to swim.”

“I remember that.”

“I’ve taken lessons time and again. My body’s just not made for swimming.”

“Maybe it’s made for other things.”

The innuendo, said so calmly, caused the heat, which had been set to simmer ever since he’d kissed her, to flame wildly. “Uh, I—”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

Mattie looked out the passenger window. As Dominic turned into her neighborhood, she remembered the day she and John had moved into the little house she loved. She’d thought she’d found it then—a man in uniform who loved his job but loved her more. Loved her enough to give her the security and stability she and her little girl needed. Instead, he’d thrown it all away for thrills.

Dom pulled up to the curb outside her house and stopped. She reached for the handle of the door, but then hesitated. She stared at her little house, with all the windows dark, and thought how lonely it looked without Jordan’s presence to light it up. Her daughter was quickly growing up and would eventually be moving out on her own. And then what would Mattie have waiting at home for her? An empty house, as empty as she felt right at that moment.

Empty. Aching. Lonely.

And damn it, she didn’t want to be empty any longer. She wanted to be filled up. Just for a little while, she wanted to forget the past few days and just feel again.

She fell back against her seat, closed her eyes, and dropped her head back. Minutes passed and the whole time she felt the heavy caress of Dom’s gaze. “I don’t want to go inside,” she whispered. Turning her head, she opened her eyes and saw desire tighten his features. “Isn’t that crazy? I’ve done nothing but push you away since you came back into my life and now, after one lousy dinner and ride home, despite the horrible things that have happened tonight, I don’t want to leave you. How can you have such power over me, Dom?”

Reaching out, he cupped her face. “I don’t know, but you’ve got the same hold on me, Mattie. I swear.”

“I can’t talk about Tony. I won’t—”

Catching her in his arms, he pulled her close, rested his chin on the top of her head, and wrapped his arms around her. “Then don’t. Not tonight. Tonight, let me just be with you. Let someone—let
me
—take care of you for once, Mattie.”

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. Felt herself relax, as if his nearness was a drug, wiping away all her fears and doubts. After a moment, she pulled away from him. “Come in.” She tried to open the door, but he stayed her with a hand on her arm.

“Wait.” He looked torn, even as desire made his cheeks flush and his nostrils flare. “No misunderstandings, Mattie. First I want you to tell me exactly what you want.”

She frowned. “You—you know what I want.”

He shook his head and soothed a hand over her shoulder in a calming motion. “Your friend’s been hurt. You’re worried about your brother. I know you want comfort, but we don’t need to have sex for me to give you that. If you want me to hold you, I’ll hold you, nothing else. But if you want more, I need to know it’s because you want
me
, me inside you, and not just anyone would do.”

“That’s crazy!” She made a frustrated noise deep in her throat and stared out the window again. “Why does it matter, anyway? I bet you didn’t ask that girl who left naked pictures for you whether she wanted you or just physical release, now did you?”

He sighed and turned her face back toward him. “It didn’t matter with her. It does with you.”

She tried to turn away, but he only held her firmer. “I’m not saying it has to mean more than tonight. We have a hell of a past, one too complicated for talk of the future right now. But I need to know it’s me you want.”

When she didn’t respond, he released her and sat back. Somehow, what he was asking seemed more than she could give and she felt indecision creeping in.

“You know,” he said, “those naked pictures were a turn-on because of the sentiment behind them, not just because they showed some T and A.”

The statement shocked her out of her thoughts. “What sentiment?” she snorted. “The ‘I’m yours, you can do anything you want to me, just do me now’ sentiment?”

“Exactly.”

She laughed uncomfortably. “At least you’re honest. So what’s your point? Men like total subjugation in a woman? Is that what you’re asking for?”

“Not subjugation. Total passion. Total focus. Total commitment. That woman wanted me and she wanted me so bad that she was willing to put herself on the line to get me. That’s what really turns a man on. Not a woman with the best technique or the most moves, but the woman who’s so overcome by passion,
her
passion, that she’ll forget about her inhibitions. Screw propriety. Screw what other people think. She wants him and she’s going to take him. You gave me that once, Mattie, and I want it again. Despite our past. Despite the bad timing. I need you to say it and mean it.”

“You’re twisted,” she breathed.

“Am I? Tell me the truth. It wouldn’t turn you on—to drive me crazy with lust, to know that I ache for you, long for your touch, dream about your body under mine, to the point that all I can think, speak, or breathe is you? That I would do anything to have you? That with one word, you can heighten my suffering or end it simply by teasing me or giving me everything I’ve ever wanted? Because that’s how it is. How it’s always been with you, Mattie. I look at you and I want you.”

She was breathing hard, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before. Opening her mouth, she tried to speak but couldn’t. Instead, she opened the door, slipped out, and bent down to meet his eyes.

“I want to have sex with you,” she said, her voice measured. “You, Dom, and no one else. So, please, come in.”

She saw the flash of surprise on his face, but didn’t wait to see more. Slamming the truck door shut, she moved up the walk, her breaths escalating when she heard him get out of the truck and follow her.

What was she doing? Was she crazy? The man was Jordan’s father. He had reason to believe Tony had attacked Linda. And he’d hurt her. God, he’d hurt her. But despite all that, she still wanted him to stay. She—

She gasped when he caught her arm.

Praying he wasn’t dreaming, Dom bent and gave Mattie the briefest of kisses before pulling back. He leaned in for more less than two seconds later, rubbing their mouths together and licking at the seam of her lips in a silent plea for entry. She gasped and opened her mouth, inviting him in. He took the invitation for what it was. Something unexpected and precious.

Fighting for control, he forced himself to be gentle. To go slow. He rubbed his tongue against hers, encouraging her to do the same. She tasted like brandied apricots, sweet but with a definite kick, and he opened his mouth wider, loosening his control by degrees as she followed his lead. Soon, their combined breaths echoed around them and he pulled back. For a moment, her mouth blindly sought his until she blinked her eyes rapidly and stepped back.

Turning towards the door, she shakily inserted the key while he caressed her shoulders and back, unable to keep his hands off her. Which is why he felt her stiffen. She stared at her hand poised in front of the lock.

“Mattie, what is it?”

She released the key and stumbled back, bumping into him. “I locked it. I know I did. But it’s already unlocked.”

Taking in her words along with the paleness of her complexion, Dom immediately put himself in front of her. “Go next door and call 911.”

“What are you doing?” she hissed even as she clung to his arm and pulled him back. “How do you know someone’s not inside?”

“I’m a cop, Mattie. If someone’s inside, I’ll deal with it. Now go.”

She stared at him with true fear in her eyes, but then she turned and ran away. He waited until she was out of sight before he drew his gun from his holster and carefully pushed her front door open.

The entry was dark. Although he felt along the wall for a light switch, there wasn’t one. Cursing, he realized that because the house was older, the rooms were probably illuminated by lamps rather than overhead lighting. Sure enough, a small fussy lamp with a green, beaded shade sat on the entry table.

The end of the foyer led into some kind of family room/kitchen combination, with another open doorway to the right. Keeping his back to the wall, he moved silently forward, keeping his gun steady. Cautiously, he searched the shadows for movement but there was none.

Room by room, he searched the house, but if anyone had been there, they’d gone. The place hadn’t been ransacked, but he couldn’t know if anything was missing until Mattie came back. Snatching the kitchen phone from its receiver, he called dispatch and confirmed that officers were on their way. He hung up, then headed toward the front door to wait for Mattie. The small foyer table was piled high with files and papers, and, as he passed it, he accidentally knocked some papers and a picture frame over. He straightened the picture frame. When he saw the picture it contained, his mind went numb.

Despite the possible threat of Mattie’s intruders returning, shock got the better of him. Knees wobbling, he felt so dizzy he had to reach out a hand to steady himself on the table.

Jordan Nolan had dark curly hair just like Mattie, but she had blue eyes. A bright blue that could have rivaled his. And where Mattie’s face was rounded, Jordan’s was oval, with high angular cheekbones and a slight cleft chin. All in all, except for her hair, Jordan Nolan looked just like her father.

She looked like him.

The door creaked open and Dom whirled around, his gun up and ready.

Mattie.

She was staring at him, her hand covering her mouth and tears shining in her eyes. Immediately lowering his gun, he vaguely thought that she shouldn’t be here. That she should have waited for the police to arrive before entering the house. But nothing seemed to matter at the moment but getting her to admit what he knew to be true.

“Mattie?” His voice trembled. “Mattie, is she mine?”

“No.” She shook her head violently. “She’s mine, Dominic. Just mine.”

One hand still gripping the gun, he reached out with his free hand to take her arm. Ever aware of his greater strength, he forced himself to be gentle despite the riotous emotions swirling inside him. “Damn you, don’t play games now. Not now. Her eyes…I know she’s mine, but I assumed—you
let
me assume—she was conceived after I left.”

She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “That’s right, Dom, you left. You didn’t want anything to do with me.”

He dropped his hand. He wanted to deny her accusation, but knew he couldn’t. “If I’d known—”

“What? You would have stayed? I suspected as much, but no thank you.”

Nine years. He’d lost nine years with Mattie and his little girl, who’d been claimed by someone else.

“Think about it, Dom. Your priority was to be a cop, regardless of my concerns. I didn’t want a man tied to me because of a baby. If you stayed out of obligation, you really would have ended up hating me.”

He shook his head, denying her words. Obligation? More like an inescapable reason to ignore his fears. To take the risk he’d been too much of a coward to take. But in a way, she’d been a coward, too. She’d taken the choice away from him. “You should have told me. You should have—”

They heard the sirens just before the police cars pulled up in front of the house. Dominic pulled out his badge to show the responding officers, but not before he turned to Mattie. Gripping her chin, he bent down to give her a quick, hard kiss. The anger was there, but crowded along with it was possessiveness. Even joy. He just didn’t know what to do with either one. With his face close to hers, he warned, “She’s mine. And this isn’t over, Mattie. Not by a long shot.”

Chapter 12

D
om wasn’t angry, he was royally pissed. Someone was playing with Mattie, rifling through her purse, coming into her home, obviously trying to scare her. But for what purpose? And would the threats continue until they finally became more? Until danger touched Mattie and her daughter?

Their
little girl, he reminded himself, still trying to accept it.

He looked at Mattie, who was speaking to the responding officers. She was pale, her features pinched and anxious, and she deliberately avoided looking at him. Although she hadn’t admitted Jordan was his, he didn’t doubt it nor did he doubt that as soon as the police left, they were going to have it out. Anticipating that conversation filled him with both satisfaction and dread. He knew he’d ultimately get the truth out of her, but with it he’d also get the fury and sadness that had been building in the past ten years.

Restlessly, he moved through her house, taking in the cheery but functional furniture. Most of all, he examined the pictures in frames and on the walls. Pictures of his little girl. All the moments in time that he’d missed and could never get back. Her baby phase when she was all fleshy rolls and gummy smiles. Her sulky toddler phase, with her hair in pigtails and gaps between her teeth. Jordan in her peewee softball uniform. Dressed in a pink tutu. At the zoo. Picture after picture of her with Mattie and with other men. A man he knew had to be her brother, Tony. And another man whose blue uniform proclaimed him to be the infamous John Nolan.

The picture that floored him, however, was a black-and-white Mattie had hung on a wall between the living room and her kitchen. It was a five-by-seven of her in full pregnancy, about ready to pop. It was Mattie just months after he’d left her, beaming at the camera. While he couldn’t see the man who stood out of the camera’s range, the man’s hand rested protectively on Mattie’s bulging belly.

Mine,
he thought.
That should have been my hand. On my baby. On my Mattie.

But she’d kept it all from him. Her pregnancy. His daughter’s birth.

For a moment, he directed all the anger he felt for her stalker towards Mattie. At least he tried to. The anger faltered and redirected before it could even get started. Dropping his face into his hands, he faced the truth.

As much as he wanted to blame Mattie—as much as he wanted to hate her for what she’d done—he knew the blame lay with him.

Mattie had once offered him everything. Herself. Children. A home. He could have had his daughter. Instead, he’d given it all up. For what? For adrenaline, just as Mattie had said?

If so, that meant the last ten years of his life had been not only a mistake, but completely worthless. He just couldn’t accept that.

No. He’d become who he needed to be. He’d followed who he really was. And in doing so, he’d done some good.

He still had good to do. He needed to solve this case. Find Joel’s killer. And of more importance now, find out who was threatening Mattie and put a stop to it.

And then what? He didn’t know what would change if he could give Mattie what she needed. But he’d protect her and Jordan with his life if he had to.

One officer signaled to him and he stepped close to Mattie, deliberately brushing up against her, then putting a proprietary arm around her waist. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

“As I was telling Ms. Nolan, there’s not much we can do. There’s no visible signs of forced entry. Nothing has been stolen or damaged. We’ve processed the front door for prints, but—” The officer shrugged, clearly communicating his belief that no relevant prints would be found.

“What about a patrol car? Can you have someone drive by to check on her?”

“I don’t need—” Mattie began, stopping when Dom glared at her.

“I didn’t ask what you needed, Mattie. I asked what the police could do.”

She narrowed her eyes and pulled away from him, striding into the kitchen and grabbing her phone off the receiver. The officer cleared his throat, pulling Dom’s attention back to him.

“Though there’s no real reason to connect this with Ms. Delaney’s attack, given you’re a fellow officer and this lady obviously means something to you, I’ll do my best to make sure she gets some coverage. But based on what we know, it’s not going to be much and it’s not going to last very long. I’m sorry, but we just don’t have the resources to—”

Dom nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate whatever you can do.” He appreciated it, but it wasn’t enough. Given what happened to Joel and given that Frank Manelli was still missing, Dom wasn’t taking any chances with Mattie or Jordan.

Apparently, she wasn’t willing to take any chances with her daughter, either.

As the police left, he propped himself on the counter next to her, arms crossed over his chest, blatantly listening to her telephone conversation.

“Yes, it’s going to be great, Jordan. I’m glad the idea of staying with your grandparents makes you happy. I just talked to them and they’re thrilled to see you.” Mattie’s eyes locked on Dom’s. He cocked one brow, making her flush and turn away.

“I’ll pick you up at school tomorrow and drive you to your grandparents’ house.” She laughed hollowly, then stuttered, “M-me? I’ll be fine, sweetie. No. No, I won’t be alone. I mean, I’ll miss you, but I have lots to catch up with. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hung up the phone, but kept her back to Dom.

“Since I remember your parents are dead, I’m guessing you’re close to your in-laws?”

Her finger began to trace the grout between the kitchen counter tiles. “I’m not as close, but they do care for Jordan, in a bit of a distant way. They live in a very secure, gated community. They’ll take care of her.”

He moved closer until he bumped up against her back. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “And who’s going to take care of you?”

Swiftly, she turned and placed one of her dining room chairs between them. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.”

She scowled. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, you can come back to my place or I can take you to a hotel. Either way, you’re not going to stay here.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He talked right over her. “Why don’t you get your things and tomorrow I can drive you to pick up Jordan—”

“You’re not driving me anywhere, and you’re not getting anywhere near my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” he reminded her.

“Biology doesn’t negate ten years of absence.”

“Of course it does, since I never even knew she existed. You kept me from her, Mattie.”

“You got what you really wanted. You became a cop.”

“I want to see her,” Dom said. “I will see her. Even if I have to get a court order to do so.”

She jerked back as if he’d slapped her. He hated the fear that so starkly radiated from her at that moment. “I’m not going to take her from you, Mattie,” he said softly. “But I do need to see her. I’m trained to protect people. She won’t be safer with anyone than she would be with me.”

Talking about Jordan’s safety seemed to do the trick. Mattie swallowed hard, then shrugged. “Fine. You can pick me up tomorrow. We’ll get her together, but you can’t say anything to her. About…you know.”

“No. I don’t know. You mean about me being her real father? Or about you deciding that wasn’t important enough to tell either of us?”

She looked away. “She’s a happy little girl, Dom. You can’t—”

“I won’t, Mattie. Not yet. But someday? I’m not making any guarantees. Now let’s get going.”

Again, she shook her head, making him furious. “I’m staying here. There’s no reason to think that whoever was here will come back or that they mean me any harm. They didn’t destroy anything or take anything. Heck, maybe I’m being a fool and I simply forgot to lock the door after all.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“No,” she said, her mouth twisting regretfully. “I don’t. But I’m not spending the night anyplace else but my home.”

He didn’t bother to hide his frustration. “I have to work, Mattie. I can’t stay with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He stared at her. At the stubborn, defiant expression on her face. She’d fight him if he tried to make her leave. And what good would that do them? She was right. There was no solid evidence that she was in danger. Still…

“Your brother,” he clipped out. “Does he have a key to your house?”

She didn’t answer for a moment. When she did, she just nodded, her eyes daring him to anything about it.

Instead, he said, “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Wait! What—”

He took off in his truck and drove straight to a hardware store. Minutes later, he was back with what he needed. If little Ms. Independent didn’t like it, that was too bad. She obviously watched out for her friends and family. She could let someone watch out for her for a change.

Sure enough, she tried blocking his entry by standing in the doorway. He merely held up the plastic bag. “I’m going to change your locks. Unless you think you can actually get to sleep knowing someone out there might have a copy of your key?”

Biting her lip, she stared at the bag. Then with another shrug, she took several steps back. “Thank you,” she muttered.

He changed the locks with stiff, jerky movements, acutely aware of her eyes on him. When he was done, he stood, wiped his hands on the towel she offered, then handed it back to her. Prowling from one room to the next, he checked to make sure that every window and door was locked. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said finally.

When he turned to leave, he felt her hand on his shoulder. She wouldn’t be able to miss the frustration vibrating through him.

“I did what I thought was best for all of us, Dom.”

He didn’t turn toward her. He drank in her touch and tried to imagine how she’d felt when she’d learned she was pregnant, knowing that her baby’s father had just walked out on her. He couldn’t be angry with her for not telling him. Not then. And not now. But that didn’t mean he was going to let things continue the way they had been.

“I know that. And I’m going to do the same, Mattie.” He started down the walk.

“Is that a threat?”

He stopped and turned, gave her a wolfish grin, and winked at her. “That’s a promise, babe.”

In the squad room an hour later, Dom threw his pencil down and ran his hands wearily through his hair. He’d wanted to stay and protect Mattie, but she wouldn’t have allowed it. He thought he could do more by solving the case. He’d gone through the evidence over and over again in his head. Linda’s assault. The subtle threats against Mattie. There was more to them than a cheating spouse trying to cover his ass, even if that spouse was a public official. It all had to lead back to Joel and Guapo. Probably Manelli as well.

There had been no word from Manelli. No sign of foul play, nothing to indicate that he hadn’t just up and disappeared to start a new life and avoid having to pay his soon-to-be ex-wife alimony payments.

Obviously, Guapo was of no help. He’d just gotten word that the bastard had attacked his cell mate and landed himself in solitary. Days before, when a prison guard had asked him about Joel Bustamante and Frank Manelli, Guapo had simply laughed. Even if he had the man in front of him, even with all his skill in interrogating witnesses, Dom wasn’t so sure he could refrain from strangling him long enough to get the information he needed. But then again, he knew no matter how skilled he was, questioning Guapo wouldn’t get him the answers he needed. Mattie’s brother Tony had to be key, but he hadn’t learned anything useful about him, not from her, the police databases, or from the neighbors he’d interviewed. As far as everyone knew, Tony Cooper was a saint among men, and that right there was a sure sign of trouble. Dominic turned to Cameron, who was steadfastly reading something on his computer screen. “What’s been the department gossip about Joel? Is there still talk of suicide?”

“No one’s stupid enough to say it out loud, but there’s still speculation. With the brass. The new shrink. Internal Affairs.”

Dom snorted. “How’s that for gratitude. Joel was a poster boy for this office, good enough to promote to sergeant but at the slightest hint of trouble—” Dom pounded his fist on his desk, rattling pens and several empty coffee cups.

“It’s tough adjusting to the real world, isn’t it? Where the things we do don’t seem to make a difference and sometimes the bad guys live better than a cop ever can.”

Cam’s sarcastic reply caught Dom unaware. He stared at the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leaning back in his chair, the tall Brit shrugged. “No offense, but maybe you’ve forgotten how things work around here, Dom. You don’t believe it, and neither do I, but based on the objective evidence, Joel committing suicide because he was on the take isn’t a completely bogus theory. And—” he interrupted before Dom could rise to his feet “—before you think about plastering me again, I want to reiterate that I don’t believe it. But people have jobs to do, and that means following the evidence until it can be disproved.”

Dom forced his tense muscles to relax. He remembered what he’d told Mattie—that sometimes the most obvious answer
was
the answer. “What exactly do you think needs to be disproved?”

“You were on assignment for a long time, Dom. You weren’t around when Joel took over, and you weren’t around to see that something was bothering him the week before he died. I tried to talk to him about it, but he dug in. Said he couldn’t talk until he knew for sure.”

Dom stroked his chin. “The last time we talked, Joel said he had a feeling that something was wrong with the warrant Manelli wrote up for the Guapo raid. Who signed the warrant? Judge Butler. He also thought Guapo’s attorney might have been killed with the help of someone in Judge Butler’s chambers. What if the thing he wasn’t sure about was Judge Butler’s involvement in something nasty?” It wasn’t that far of a stretch. The question was whether he would stoop to using Mattie’s brother to do his dirty work for him.

“Could be. Given who the judge’s friends are, Joel wouldn’t have wanted to say anything until he was sure. But what about the warrant Manelli wrote? You got it?”