Second Chances: A PAVAD Duet (35 page)

If that meant she hated him
for the rest of their days, so be it. People had to be in top
mental condition to handle the job they did, and Dr. Bellows wasn’t
in it. She would be—or Malachi would see to it that she was removed
from her position with the St. Louis PAVAD unit. Until she became
more aware of things around her, he wasn’t comfortable sending her
out in the field. Period. It was too dangerous.

But then again—she wasn’t
his agent, she was Hellbrook’s, and since her field work mainly
consisted of retrieving dead bodies and autopsying them, Hellbrook
felt she was more than capable of the job. Malachi completely
disagreed.

He’d seen much stronger
agents break under far less provocation.

“
That’s one angry medical
examiner down there.” Hellbrook made the observation mildly.
Malachi smirked. “What did you do to her?”

“
What makes you think I did
anything to her?” Mal asked, still smirking. He didn’t miss the way
her expression darkened.

“
Because the normally
calm-natured doctor is shooting poison glares straight over my
shoulder, directly at you,” Hellbrook laughed.

“
I did nothing to her to
warrant what she did to me.”

“
Which was?”

“
Threw a stapler at my
head. And the woman has almost excellent aim.” Malachi rubbed his
shoulder.

“
Sounds eerily reminiscent
of my morning, as well.” Hellbrook said.

“
Oh? Bellows throw a
stapler at you, too?”

“
No. George did. And it was
the television remote. And apparently her aim is better than
Jules’.”

“
I ducked. How is
George?”

“
Cranky. That woman hates
to be sick.” Worry touched the other man’s eyes for a moment.
“Julia’s been over at the house at least once a day. I don’t know
who is more concerned—Jules, George, or me.”

“
At least George has her
own personal physician.” Malachi watched as she gathered her bag
and then stomped from the bullpen. Her actual office was down in
near the morgue, but she spent many hours in the
bullpen.

“
I am eternally grateful
for Jules. She’s been a godsend since this flu’s been making the
rounds. I think George would have killed me if not for
Jules.”

“
So there is some benefit
to the woman.”

Hellbrook’s brow rose.
“Seriously? What is going on with you two?”

“
Nothing of importance.”
Mal stood, and Hellbrook followed suit. “But I do believe we shall
agree to disagree on the subject of the good doctor.”

“
Sounds eerily familiar as
well. I remember feeling a serious bit of rancor toward a woman
with good doctor in her title.”

“
Yes, but in this instance
there won’t be the same resolution. I have no intention of doing
that with Dr. Julia Bellows.” Malachi shuddered at the thought.
Whoever did marry that woman would have to wear body armor. Two
inches higher and to the left and she’d have broken his nose with
that stapler.

So much for do no harm. If
he hadn’t ducked right when he had...Malachi abhorred violence.
There were so many other ways of dealing with conflict. The woman
could have killed him. He made a mental note to avoid being alone
with her until she’d had time to cool down.

In the meantime, he had a
party to host.

***

Several hours later Mal
laughed, watching Julia across the room. He was looking forward to
the rest of the party. He’d make it his mission to keep her so
riled, she’d have no choice but to explode...again.

He made a mental note to
duck when needed.

What he hadn’t counted on
was Julia’s apparent ability to avoid confrontation. It took him
nearly an hour to find her.

The dress was lovely,
low-cut and revealing. And a good color choice for her.

He might not have liked her
personality, but even he had to admit there was nothing wrong with
her body. Pity she usually kept it so ruthlessly
covered.

He either saw her dressed
in shapeless suits or medical scrubs. Scrubs were his favorite—they
at least hinted at the female body beneath. And when dressed in her
medical garb she appeared confident.

She was hard at work
helping his sister Alex set out punch, applying herself to the task
with utmost concentration. Hiding.

“
Dr. Bellows, I was at
least hoping for one dance before the night ends. Instead I find
you in here.”

“
I’m sorry; I make it a
point not to dance with apes.” She didn’t look up from the peach
punch she was ladling. Mal heard his sister snicker.

“
Julia is a bit angry at
me. She wouldn’t really say I’m an ape. Then I’d have to say she
was a shrew, or something of that nature.” He grinned at the shrew
in question. “I would never do that.”

“
Of course, you’re too
perfect for that.” She thickened her slight accent into a more
noticeable southern drawl. “And who would ever accuse the great
Malachi Brockman of not being perfect? Surely not I.”

She showed just the barest
hint of teeth before looking away. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to
use the restroom.” She left Malachi and Alex standing watching her
back as she wove through the reception hall.

“
Good one, Mal.” Alex
bumped his shoulder with hers. “What did you do to her this
time?”

Malachi smiled. “I probably
deserved the stapler she heaved at my head this morning. I just
can’t seem to resist pushing her buttons. But she will dance with
me before this party ends.”

He’d make sure of
it.

It took him another forty
minutes to corner her, and it was only in front of Ana and Paige
that he did.

Julia wouldn’t dare make a
scene in front of her friends. And one thing Malachi could say
about Julia was that she valued and protected her friends. God knew
the woman didn’t have very many. Just Georgia, Ana, Paige, and
Alessandra.

As luck would have it, the
tempo slowed just as he slipped his arms around her. A woman’s
voice, low and throaty floated over the dance floor, soon joined by
more. Paige, Carrie, and Al sang beautifully, even more so when
they sang together. This time they sang of enduring love, a song
dedicated to the new couple.

Mal pulled his partner
closer, ignoring the way she resisted. Her hair brushed his chin,
but he allowed her to keep an appropriate distance between their
bodies.

It wasn’t as if they were
lovers, after all. It wasn’t as if they even liked one another. He
just wanted to dance with her. He held her almost gently, one hand
low on her back, the other holding her left hand against his chest.
She wasn’t any bigger than Georgia or Ana and he’d danced with them
hundreds of times. So why did she feel so different?

Mal didn’t have a
clue.

***

Jules almost wished she
liked him. Then she could pretend that the dance meant something
other than him trying to torment her. And that was exactly what he
was trying to do. And he was doing a damned good job, too. But he
probably didn’t even know how.

The jerk wore the same
cologne as her dead husband. If she closed her eyes, and shrank
Brockman just a little she could pretend she was dancing with Rick
again. They said the sense of smell was the most powerful for
evoking memories and she believed it. Now. Damn him.

Julia tried to pull back.
He frowned down at her and held tight. “You surely can finish one
dance, Julia.”

She hated how he said her
name. Nobody called her Julia. Hadn’t since Rick. She’d told
Brockman to call her Jules, but he refused. “It’s Jules. J. U. L.
E. S., for someone so damned smart you’re remarkably thick-headed.
Don’t call me Julia.”

“
Jules sounds like
something you’d name a Cocker spaniel.” His words were mild, which
aggravated her all that much more.

“
Thanks. Try Dr. Bellows
then if Jules offends you in some way.”

“
Too formal for friends.”
He guided her around the dance floor almost effortlessly. They
never once stepped on each other.

“
We’re not friends.” It
took her a few moments to say it, but it did come out completely
flat. Mild. Truthful. “We don’t even like each other. Not that I
will admit that to anyone else. Don’t want to be accused of
blaspheme against the great god Brockman.”

“
Of course we’re friends.
Why else would we be dancing?”

“
Because you’re a sadistic
moron who can’t tell when someone wants nothing to do with you. Far
be it from me to point out your idiocy. You’re the great
psychologist, shouldn’t you be able to figured it out for
yourself?”

***

The entire time they danced
she never raised her voice, never gave any indication she wasn’t
perfectly content right where she was. Malachi had to admit a small
bit of admiration. The woman could say so much while saying so
little. He pulled her a bit closer, just enough that he could feel
the barest hint of her body pressed against his. If possible he
thought she was thinner than Georgia or Ana. Too thin. He had no
trouble feeling the outline of her ribs beneath his hand.
Unhealthily thin.

He remembered the home
videos he’d watched with Georgia just last week. He’d stopped by
for a visit and found the extremely maudlin woman weeping as she’d
watched four-year-old videos. It had concerned him at first, but
Georgia had explained. She’d forgotten what it was like to have a
toddler around, so she watched videos of Matthew’s second
birthday.

Malachi watched with her a
moment, eyes cataloging what appeared to be a happy, healthy young
couple play with the beautiful little boy Malachi considered an
honorary nephew. He’d watched as a younger Georgia answered the
doorbell, revealing Dr. and Dr. Bellows.

The man was of average
height, with brown hair and eyes. Average. Until the camera focused
on his face, where the sparks of humor and intelligence were hard
to miss.

But it was the love in the
man’s eyes as he looked down at the beautiful brunette at his side
that Malachi would always remember. Dr. Rick Bellows had adored his
wife, and it didn’t take a behavioral scientist to see it. For a
moment Malachi had wondered what it would be like to love a woman
that much. To have her look up at him with just that expression
that Julia had shot at the man.

Malachi had barely
recognized her. She’d had glorious curves, for one thing. Dressed
in a low-cut blouse that flattered her body and coloring, she was a
very stunning woman. And she flaunted that in front of her husband.
He just looked at her with indulgence as she flirted and pranced
around him. The woman on video was nothing like the plain little
stick she tried to convince everyone she was now.

But it was her laughter
that had choked Mal up. Free, uninhibited, audacious, beautiful,
full of life and love. Heartbreaking when he considered the woman
he knew now.

Once he got over the
initial shock he’d tuned back in to the action on the video. It
took him a moment to realize the truth—Julia had stuck a cigar in
Georgia’s hand. A pink and blue bubble gum cigar that signified one
thing. Someone was pregnant, and from the way Georgia hugged her
friend and squealed, Malachi knew it was Julia. He’d frowned and
looked at his friend as she lay sniffling beside him.

Georgia had read his mind,
something she was good at. Her low explanation had literally broken
Malachi’s heart. “This was recorded two weeks before the accident.
She lost the baby the day of the funeral. That’s when we completely
lost that Julia. I keep hoping, praying, we’ll eventually get her
back. At least a little bit. Rick was her everything from almost
the very moment they met. They’d been trying for two years for the
baby. And having a difficult time. When she lost the baby, it
terrified me. The Julia from that video was just...gone. I haven’t
seen her since.”

Julia Bellows hadn’t just
lost her husband that day, she’d lost her family. Her hope. It
explained so much to him.

He pulled her closer,
running a hand down her back when she protested, a gesture intended
to sooth. He wasn’t fully aware of what he was doing, but as he
recalled the Julia on video he needed the comfort. The danced on in
silence.

He fought the urge to close
his eyes and bury his face in the thick softness of her honey brown
hair. It was completely straight and smelled like the softest of
flowers. They swayed together slowly as Paige sang on. He tucked
her under his chin, held her against his chest until the music
ended.

He stepped back. She looked
up at him, wariness and suspicion in her hazel eyes. “Thank you for
the dance, Julia.”

“
My pleasure.” Her tone
made the lie perfectly clear to him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I
should go help Paige and Ana clean up the kitchen.”

“
Not necessary. It’s my
kitchen after all.” Malachi followed her a few steps. He didn’t
make it; his mother stopped him, dragging an eager-looking young
woman behind her.

Malachi heard Jules snicker
as she escaped, leaving him to politely accept the dance partner
his mother basically threw at him.