Embattled Hearts 1 (14 page)

John cringed at the confused look on Shannon’s face. She’d been enjoying a kiss, and he’d been replaying traumas in his head. “Sorry, Shannon. I just don’t know that right now is the best time to do this.”

It was like he’d kicked a puppy. The aroused, slumberous look faded away to be replaced with reserve, and she slid off his lap.

“Yes, of course. Okay. I’m going to bed. Do you need anything?”

He shook his head and she turned and padded down the hallway. He watched her hips sway for a minute before he dragged his gaze away.

Stupid asshole. She was right there on your lap, kissing you better than you’ve ever been kissed, and you shut her down.

The erection strained his zipper, but he tried to ignore the distraction. Somebody was after Shannon, and he needed to figure out whom.

A
fter a restless sleep that night, Shannon rose and dressed in the bathroom, then headed to the kitchen. John was already up and in his chair, and she had to wonder yet again if he had even gone to bed. The blankets were folded the same way she’d left them, although his clothes were different. His short hair was slicked down and glossy, so he must have managed a shower.

“Good morning.” She was determined to play it cool.

“Morning,” he rumbled.

Shannon fought not to react to his rusty voice, even though it sent chills racing down her spine and made her nipples tighten. The man was too sexy for her peace of mind.

She threw something together for breakfast, then escaped to finish getting ready. When she glanced out the bedroom window, she had second thoughts. The snow had really accumulated last night. The boughs of the pines dragged the ground, and she couldn’t see anything moving on the street.

“Hey, John,” she called.

“Yeah.”

“Have you looked outside?”

“Yeah. Don’t think we’re going anywhere today.”

That was what she thought too, but she just wanted to hear him confirm it. She pulled a favorite sweatshirt over top of the long-sleeved t-shirt she already had on and slipped her feet into her slippers to pad down the hallway. John was on his cell phone, obviously talking to Duncan. Shannon picked up the receiver of the house phone. Dead.

She wasn’t surprised. Colorado was notorious for bad weather, and if a person got upset by minor things like dead phone lines and car batteries, it wasn’t the place for them. At least they still had power. She had a generator in the garage if they needed it. Difficult to start, but a necessity, nonetheless. Crossing to the fireplace, she stoked the coals, and within minutes had a wonderful blaze going. The stack of wood beside the grate had dwindled quickly. John was still talking, so she grabbed a jacket from her closet and stepped out onto the back porch.

And screamed.

A bloody, mangled, furry mess lay on the concrete porch lightly covered in snow, and Shannon stumbled back into the house, slamming the door shut. John was right there when she turned, and she clutched his shirt in her hands, gasping. He shushed her and set her gently aside, then opened the door and scanned outside. His gun was already in his hand. Shannon backed farther into the kitchen as he rolled out the door. She didn’t know what the thing lying on the concrete had been, but it had died a horrible death.

John came back in a few minutes later. Shannon had gotten hold of her emotions, somewhat, but she felt brittle.

“It’s just a dog, Shannon.” He pulled her hands into his and stared into her eyes. “It looks like it was hit somewhere else and dragged here. There’s no fresh blood. Whoever brought it here dropped it on the concrete and left over the back fence, dragging a branch or something behind them to cover up their tracks. The snowstorm then covered that track, so that we wouldn’t see anything unless you looked specifically. I need to get a crew out here, to catalog the evidence and get photographs as soon as possible. Okay?”

Shannon nodded, and crossed to the sink to scrub her hands. She hadn’t actually touched the poor thing, but she still felt dirty.

“You shouldn’t have gone out there alone.”

She could tell John was angry at her, and it made her defensive. “You were on the phone, and I didn’t want to bother you. It was just the back porch.”

“What if the guy had been standing out there waiting for you to come out?” John actually growled, and smacked the cupboard beside her. Shannon jumped in surprise and winced at the sound. Tears came to her eyes. She didn’t want John to be mad at her.

It
had
been irresponsible. Hell, she hadn’t even looked through the vertical blinds before she walked out. Taking a deep breath, she forced the tears away. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I just went along like I normally do.” She looked him in the eye. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”

John was still angry, but he accepted her apology. He turned away to the living room, and within a few seconds she heard him on the phone, calling people in.

For two hours, her house turned into a circus. The police came to file another report and take pictures. The detectives arrived to ask questions, and the crime scene people stomped through her house and outside as they gathered evidence. Duncan stopped to look things over and talk to John. He gave her a big hug when he walked in the door. “Don’t worry, Shannon. We’ll get him.”

She nodded and hugged the older man back. He’d become a dear friend to her over the months and she had a lot of faith in his abilities. She retreated to her bedroom and curled up in the soft little chair beside the window. Here she could watch the cars pull in and leave her driveway, but she didn’t need to talk to anybody else.

Duncan was the last to leave, and the house finally quieted. At some point she drifted off into a weary doze. When she woke John sat beside her in his chair. The light had dimmed outside, fading into afternoon. A snowplow lumbered past, spitting salt.

Shannon adjusted and stretched her arms above her head. When she looked at John, he was just shifting his eyes away from her breasts. Shannon smiled inwardly, even as she girded herself for him to say whatever it was that had the frown on his face. He started to say something, then looked like he changed his mind and went in a different direction.

“I, uh, shouldn’t have snapped at you.” The words were quiet, and sounded like they were forced out.

She shrugged. “I think I needed it. Walking out the door was irresponsible. I’ll remember next time.”

He blinked at her as if he were surprised at how easy the apology had been. He ran his palms down his jean-clad thighs.

“It’ll be a while before we hear anything from forensics, but on preliminary examination, it looks like the dog was just road kill. There were bald patches where the hair had been scraped off, and a couple of minor marks that looked like tire prints. If I had to guess, the prick saw the dog and thought it would be funny to throw on your back porch to spook you.”

She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Well, it worked.”

John didn’t look so chipper himself. Deep lines bracketed his mouth, and the black stubble on his jaw was longer than normal. Shannon knew it had to frustrate him, because the weather wasn’t cooperating. He hadn’t seen the intruder on the monitors because of the swirling snow, and she had a feeling the crime scene people didn’t get anything either, for the same reason.

“Duncan and I talked, and we’re going to bring in another guy.”

Surprise lifted her brows. “Really?”

John’s expression completely closed down, and he crossed his heavy arms over his chest. “Really. I can’t protect you properly with just me. I need backup. Legs, basically.”

Shannon wished things could have been different. John had probably been a force to be reckoned with a few years ago, big and robust. Bitterness rolled off him now, and his mouth twisted when he said the words. It was the biggest humiliation in the world for a man to admit he needed help.

“Who’s coming in?”

“Harper.”

She nodded. The former SEAL was one of the few men actually not on assignment right now. He worked graveyard shift, so she didn’t know him as well as the others, but he seemed like a very dangerous individual. Even more so than John. He set her on edge, actually. Almost as bad as the Jennings kid had.

“He’ll be here within the hour.”

John turned his chair to go, but Shannon reached out and brushed her hand against his arm. She wanted to acknowledge how hard it must have been for him to request backup, but if she said anything it would only make him feel worse. “Thanks for letting me know, John.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Whatever we need to do to get this guy, we’ll do. I promise.” He tipped his head and rolled away.

Shannon felt her heart melt as she watched him maneuver out the door. John Palmer was a good guy, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

When the sky started to ease into evening, she headed to the kitchen to make dinner. John sat, elbows propped, at the table. Harper Preston leaned against her counter. Shannon was a little spooked, because she hadn’t even heard him enter the house. She certainly hadn’t seen him. He had an open blade in his hand, and was scraping the edge against his black jeans, back and forth, back and forth. His pale silver eyes pinned her to the doorway, and it was all Shannon could do to contain a shiver. He had the eyes of a killer, cold and merciless. His head was shaved so close, only the barest hint of dark stubble remained.

Those eerie eyes settled on her, and he folded the knife away. “Ms. Murphy.”

“Hello, Mr. Preston. I’m sorry you got dragged into my mess here.”

Extra-wide shoulders jerked in a shrug. “It’s all work.”

John’s expression was guarded as he watched them. Shannon didn’t like feeling he examined her movements. She crossed to the refrigerator. Preston moved as far away from her as he could, then turned to lean against the wall, looking out the sliding glass doors. The space in the room was stifling.

Shannon ducked her head back into the fridge. “Is there anything you’d like for dinner, guys?”

Preston didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really expect him to.

“Anything is fine, Shannon. The easier the better.”

She pulled pork chops and a bag of vegetables from the shelves. A can of fruit got dumped into a bowl, and she warmed up the few remaining noodles from a few nights ago. Within minutes, she had set the table and was passing around food. Preston filled his plate, then moved to stand back where he had been, leaning against the jamb. Shannon had to clamp her mouth shut not to say anything about his behavior. John smiled slightly and winked at her.

The agency wouldn’t hire anybody not suitable for the job, she knew that. And Duncan certainly wouldn’t put a man in her house that he didn’t trust. More importantly to her, John didn’t seem to mind him either. Maybe it was just a military thing.

Dinner was tense and quiet. Shannon ate quickly just so she could get away from the menace in the air. She offered seconds, which the new guard promptly accepted, and put the food away.

“I’ll get the dishes.”

The thought of the muscle-bound hulk with tattoos on his arms filling her dishwasher almost made her smile. “Thank you.” Hell, she wasn’t going to argue with the man.

Shannon didn’t give him time to change his mind. She grabbed the box of kittens and walked them down the hallway, with Pickle trailing behind. She heard the whisper of John’s rubber wheels on the floor as he brought up the rear.

He stopped inside the doorway and closed the door behind him.

Shannon’s heart began to accelerate. The door had been open before. Closed, it suddenly ratcheted up the intimacy.

“Don’t worry about Preston. As long as he has focus, he’s good. Just try to stay out of his way, and for God’s sake don’t come up behind him.” His full lips spread in a grim smile.

Shivering, she crossed to the bed and reached the kittens out of the box, setting them on the comforter. John rolled to the opposite side of her bed to keep one from falling off. Boohini clawed into her pant leg and climbed into her lap. Shannon stroked him, and he set up a little rumble in his throat.

“I’ll remember. Is he really that dangerous?”

John sighed. “Let’s just leave him alone, okay? Don’t try to butter him up with your cooking or anything.” He dropped his head when he said the last, and she had to strain to hear.

Shannon laughed. “Oh, please. He doesn’t look like the German chocolate cake type.”

John raised a dark eyebrow. “That’s my cake. You better not make him that.”

Shannon knew he was trying to tease her out of the funk she was in, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. “I won’t make that cake for anybody but you,” she promised.

The laughter in his face faded away as he heard the sincerity in her voice. He cleared his throat sharply. “Maybe, you uh, should. You know, just in case somebody likes it better, or appreciates it more. Or something.”

He avoided her eyes until she moved off the bed to stand in front of him.

“John.”

He dragged his gaze up to her face, but he wasn’t happy about it. “I just don’t want you to settle.”