Beauty and the Chief (7 page)

“She is. Oh, there’s my baby.” Jillian knelt down in front of the kennel. Abby started to whine and wiggle her whole body. “Sit girl.” Jillian tried to calm her, but the minute the door was open, Abby burst through into her lap. “That’s my girl.” Jillian ran her fingers over Abby, careful of the patches that had stitches.

“Hey, Abby.” Sam came over to pet her and received a greeting lick.

“You want to come meet her, Jordan? She’s friendly.” Jillian invited.

“Sure.” He dropped down by her and immediately received the same treatment as Sam.

“Abby,” Jillian corrected the dog. “She’s not supposed to lick people’s faces.” Jillian caught the dog’s head between her hands and lowered her forehead to the top of Abby’s. “Ready to go home?” She dodged the tongue, laughed, and pulled the leash from her purse.

With the boys on either side of Abby, they all said good-bye.

Mark opened the tailgate then carefully lifted the dog inside while Jillian got into the back seat.

“If you put the little center piece down, you can reach her easier.”

Gratefully, Jillian followed the suggestion. Before the others had even gotten in the car, Abby had her muzzle resting on the arm rest between Jillian and Sam. At her condo, Mark again came around to lift her out so she didn’t pull her stitches.

“Thank you for everything.” Jillian caught the leash.

“We’ll walk you up.”

Jillian started to object but thought better of it as Mark raised his eyebrow. “This way.”

“Jillian, can Jordan and I stop to see if Mom’s home yet?”

She looked to Mark.

“It’s fine with me,” he said.

“All right, if she’s not, come straight back.”

They followed the sidewalk around the corner of the clubhouse which sat in front of her building. Jillian’s condo was on the end. A small, enclosed patio to the side of the walk was given privacy by a tree and a couple of bushes.

“She seems to be walking fine.” Mark looked down at the dog as they approached her condo.

Jillian followed his gaze. “Yes, Dr. Jones said she was fortunate. Though she had lots of stitches, the cuts were fairly shallow. It’s a good thing Abby has a nice thick coat. There wasn’t too much muscle damage. Eliza said she’ll heal fast, probably be back to normal in a couple of weeks. The only thing is, she’ll likely have a lighter streak of fur where the cuts were. I can handle that, considering I feel lucky to still have her.” She leaned over slightly to run her hand over the dog’s head.

The man popped up from behind the bushes by her patio.

Surprised, Jillian shrieked. Abby crouched and growled, and Mark stepped in front of them as a shield − all at the same time.

The figure cried out and fell back over a flower pot. Mark sprang forward, grabbed the man by his shirt front, and pulled him up. A second later, Mark had one arm pinned behind the struggling man’s back.

It happened so fast, it took Jillian’s brain a second to catch up and recognize the man. “Mark, let him go.” She dropped the leash and rushed up, catching Mark’s arm. “Let him go.” She eased his hand away. “It’s all right. Toby, are you all right?” She helped the man straighten.

The man-boy looked past her. “Who is he?” Toby glared at Mark.

“He’s a friend.”

“Why did he jump on me?”

“You startled me. When I yelled, Mark went to protect me. I’m sorry.” She tried to explain.

“I would never hurt you, Jillian.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She patted his hand. “Are you okay?”

He nodded and sent another glare at Mark.

“What are you doing here Toby?”

“I brought Abby a bone. The butcher said I could have it. I asked.”

“That was very nice of you.”

“Did Abby get hurt?” He knelt down by the dog, obviously nervous to touch her because of the bandages.

“Yes. I’m just bringing her home from the vet. It’s okay to pet her, just be careful.”

“Did he hurt her?” There was no mistaking the hostility as Toby glared at Mark.

“No, he’s a friend,” Jillian said soothingly. “He was helping me bring her home. His name is Mark. Mark, this is Toby.”

“Hello, Toby. I’m sorry I handled you so roughly. I thought you were going to hurt Jillian.”

“I would never hurt her.”

“I can see that now. I was just trying to protect her.”

“I can protect Jillian. She doesn’t need you to protect her.”

“That’s nice of you, but it’s what I do. I protect people. I’m a police officer.”

The look in Toby’s eyes changed to one of excitement. “A real policeman? Do you carry a gun?”

“Yes, but it’s in its lockbox right now. I’m off duty. I was at a soccer game with my son.”

The look that came over Toby was one of relief. “Is he on Jillian’s soccer team?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to be Jillian’s special helper sometimes. If I listen to what Jillian says,” the man announced importantly.

“That’s good of you.”

The boys came running up. “Mom’s home,” Sam announced. “She said we could play a video game if it was okay with his Dad.”

“Is it okay Dad? Just for a minute.”

Mark looked to Jillian. “Do you mind the company? All in the name of the boys’ new friendship,” he added for extra pull.

“The boys’ friendship?” Her lips twitched. She eyed him speculatively.

“Well, maybe for ours, too.” The glint in his grin was unmistakable.

Jillian felt her heart leap in recognition. “All right.”

“Okay.” Mark turned his son. “Go play for a while, but not too long. You don’t want to overstay your welcome.”

The boys raced off again. Jillian realized Toby was still standing there. He eyed Mark curiously.

“Toby, would you like a drink or something? We could sit out here on the patio.”

He shifted back and forth then glanced at his watch. “Oh, no. I have to get back to work.” There was hesitation in his movements. “I just wanted to bring Abby the bone.” He pointed where a bag lay in front of the sliding glass door. “I better get back. Bye, Jillian.” He looked again at Mark, his eyebrows pulling together in a slight frown. “Bye, Officer Mark.”

“Bye, Toby.”

They stood as the man ran off. As soon as they were inside, Jillian put food and fresh water down for Abby.

“You have an admirer,” Mark commented from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Yes, I’m not sure what to do about it. Toby is very sweet, and I don’t want to hurt him. I try to just be his friend, but I’m afraid he has a crush.”

“Does he live around here?”

“Somewhere a couple streets over, I think. He works at the grocery store across the park.”

“Where Sandra Cannon works?”

“Yes, he’s a bagger. Would you like some juice? I don’t keep pop around.”

“Water’s fine.”

“How about some ice cream?”

“Now, that is something you can tempt me with.”

***

Later that night, Mark lay back on his bed and thought of Jillian. She had hardly been out of his mind. He owed his son. The minute of game play had lasted over an hour and a half. And, like his son said, the time had gone fast.

He and Jillian had sat on the couch, eaten ice cream and talked about anything and everything. She had painting the picture on her wall, a hobby she hadn’t much time for in the last few years, but she did try to keep up. He wondered what it would take to get her to do him a painting. He knew she didn’t think he was serious when he asked.

He sighed, as his mind pulled up the image of her. She really had great legs, oh yeah, and such a nice body, but those eyes, those beautiful telling eyes. Looking into them, he found the real Jillian. Her eyes showed just what she thought or felt. She was all there, totally open if you just looked. He liked that. He liked a lot of what he found out today. He couldn’t wait to find out more. He sighed again and closed his eyes, letting the excitement of what was to come roll over him.

There was more to come.

***

Jillian came out of the bathroom and smiled at the dog lying on her pillow next to the bed. Abby knew she wasn’t allowed on the furniture, but she had kept as close to Jillian as she could all evening, which was just fine with her. She needed the contact.

“Good night, girl.” She knelt down to stroke the Lab. “It’s so nice to have you home.” She wrapped her arms around the dog, burying her face into the soft, sun-colored fur. Happily she felt the soft tongue on her shoulder beside the strap of her thin nightgown. She leaned back looking down at the dog.

“Well, at least I get some kisses tonight. I wonder what it would be like to be kissed good night by Police Chief Richards. He’s a seriously good-looking man. Like no man I’ve ever dated. Yes, I know it wasn’t a date. But that is more time than I’ve spent with a man who wasn’t holding a paintbrush, hammer, or other building tool in a long time.” She rubbed Abby under her chin.

“I swear, in college, all the boys were after three things: the next party, thrill, or girl. I know Cynical, I know, after a couple bad experiences. A lot of it was my own fault. I was always such a tomboy that the guys I liked thought of me as just one of the guys. Still −” She let it hang. “Good night.”

She ruffled Abby’s fur around her neck and climbed into bed, trying not to look toward the window. No matter how hard she refused to let the darkness outside her condo get to her, the unease was there in the back of her mind.

Last night’s sleep had come after exhaustion had finally claimed her. Tonight, she looked to the window. The curtains were pulled tight over the sliding glass doors, but the darkness still edged around the fan above. With a mental shake, she drew her eyes away. She was safe. There was nothing out there to get her. He couldn’t know where she lived.

***

He stood behind the bushes at the corner of the clubhouse. The lights that glowed up from the swimming pool didn’t draw his attention. It was focused on the light coming from the second floor of the condo on the end. Beauty was there. He’d watched as the lights downstairs had turned off and the ones upstairs came on.

On the roof a patch glowed up like a beacon from the skylight that he guessed was in her bathroom. If he were on her roof, he could look down at her. He could see her. He made up his mind to climb up. He could do it. He could scale any heights for his Beauty. He stepped forward, and the light went out. He pulled back into the shadows.

That was all right. It wasn’t time to go to her yet. She needed to learn to love him first so she could see past the beast. So she could set him free from the curse. He’d watch and wait. He could do that. He was good at that. His Beauty would love him.

The lights behind the curtains went out.

“Good night, Beauty.”

“Dad, look, my picture’s in the paper!” Jordan exclaimed excitedly, running into the kitchen. “See the pass from Sam and the score.” He held the paper out so the four-by-eight picture was up. There, in full color, was a clear picture of the two boys just as Jordan kicked the ball into the goal.

“Hey, all right. We’ll have to cut it out for your scrapbook.”

“I’ll get the scissors.”

Mark studied at the picture. It really was a good shot, great clarity. “What?” He cut back the curse, but the word hung like venom as he stared at the picture and the blonde-haired woman shown clearly in the background, clipboard in hand, cheering on her team.

So clear that the predator could recognize her instantly.

Mark read down the article about the players and the need for volunteers. Clark wrote about the old ref, Raymond, who helped out other people’s kids because he couldn’t go to his own grandchildren’s games. He turned a couple pages to continue the story, fighting to keep from swearing.

Anyone can find the time to volunteer, even one of the area’s leading interior designers. A young woman of grace and beauty donned a whistle and picked up a clipboard to coach a neighbor boy’s team when they lost their coach, though she has no children of her own. Her team did great, but who wouldn’t do their best for a long-legged beauty like that? I’ll bet there are a lot of men out there that would love to be her assistant, and the organization can use all the volunteers they can get.

He was going to ring a reporter’s neck. But first he’d have to pay a visit to Jillian Taylor and not the casual, fun meeting he’d been planning on.

Jordan came back with the scissors, and Mark forced down his frustration while they read, then cut out the article together. Jordan jabbered on excitedly.

“What do you think about going over and showing Jillian and Sam, just in case they didn’t see it yet?” Mark suggested, keeping the smile on his face.

“You mean it?”

“Sure. In fact, why don’t you grab your swimsuit, and maybe we can talk Jillian into letting you swim while I talk with her.”

“All right. Maybe Sam can swim, too.”

“You can see.”

Jordan ran off. Mark paced the room then picked up the phone. Pulling a card from his wallet, he punched in the number. “Nigel Clark, please,” he said when a woman answered.

“I’m sorry, he isn’t in today.”

“Will you give me his number, please?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t give out that information.”

“This is Police Chief Mark Richards.” He paused for emphasis. “Give me that number.”

“I … I’m sorry sir. I can’t. Its policy, but he should be at his desk at nine o’clock in the morning.”

He debated pressing it but heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. “Thank you.” He put the phone down, vowing that he would be seeing a certain reporter at nine o’clock sharp.

They made one short stop on the way to Jillian’s to buy another newspaper. Getting through the security gate wasn’t any trouble. They just followed the car in front of them through before the gate closed.

Jillian’s doorbell was answered first with one bark from Abby and about five seconds later by Jillian. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail again, but today, her face was totally free of makeup. The bruise on her chin was clearly visible, though it had faded to a yellowish green.

“Mark, Jordan.” her surprise was obvious.

Abby, recognizing them, settled down on the floor by the unlit fireplace.

“Did you see it?” Jordan burst out excited.

“See what?” She looked from him to Mark.

“We made the paper.”

“What?”

“See, Sam and I are in the paper.” He held it up for her to see.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. What a shot and I’m talking about your kick, not the picture. That’s so cool. I haven’t even looked at the paper yet. I think I may have to frame it.”

“Do you think Sam has seen it?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt it because he hasn’t been over here, yet.”

“Do you have a paper?” Mark entered the conversation finally.

Jillian looked to him, her brow wrinkling. She nodded and glanced to the table where the paper sat waiting for her to take time to look at it.

Mark dropped his hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go see Sam? You can also see if it’s okay for you guys to go for a swim, if that’s okay with Jillian?” His eyes never left her.

She shifted under his gaze. “Sure, we’ll just have to go sit poolside and watch them.”

“I brought dad’s suit so we can all swim.”

That brought Mark’s attention from her to his son, but Jillian’s next words took it right back. “That sounds like fun. Why don’t you go see if Sam can join us?”

Jordan dropped the backpack he’d been carrying with the swimsuits and ran out.

“You didn’t know he brought your swimsuit?”

“No.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” There was hesitancy in Jillian’s voice that hadn’t been there when he left the evening before, as if she sensed the impending doom.

“Yeah.” He walked to the table, picked up the paper, pulling the rubber band from it. He drew out the section with the picture and turned it to her. “Take a closer look.”

She stepped next to him.

“Look past the boys.” When he heard her intake of breath, he knew she was seeing herself there for the first time.

Fear was clear in her features when she looked to him. “You don’t think there’s anything to worry about?”

He knew she was looking for assurance. He wished he could give it, but he just felt too uneasy himself. “Probably not, but you’d better read the article.”

Her hand settled on the paper next to his. His pulse jumped when she brushed against him as she moved to read. He tried to tell himself that it was the desire to protect her but he knew different. It was just plain desire that ached through him. He tightened the reins on his control until she turned to him. Her face drained of color.

“He all but said my name.” The shaky words destroyed his resolve. He dropped the paper and had her in his arms before it landed on the table. Jillian clung to him, burying her head in his chest. Her trembling was painful to feel. He wanted to make it go away. He wished he had never shown her the paper, though he knew she needed to be made aware.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” The vow came out loud, but it was made to himself. He ran his hand up and down her back in an effort to soothe her. Jillian was his responsibility now, his to watch over.

Mark shifted back, raising his hand to her cheek to tilt her head up to him. “I’m sorry. But I wanted you to know. So we can take precautions. Just to be on the safe side. Chances are the perpetrator will never see the newspaper or put it together. But we have to be prepared just in case.”

Her eyes searched his face, obviously finding reassurance there because she relaxed and nodded. She didn’t move from his arms and he couldn’t release her, unable to get away from those clear, lake-blue eyes. The feel of her became imprinted along the length of him. His heart raced and he could feel hers match beats. Her head tilted to him as he lowered his.

“Jillian,” her name slipped out in a whisper, just an inch from her lips. He closed the space.

“Sam can go.” Jordan burst through the door. Mark jerked back just as Jillian did. Five feet separated them before Jordan turned to see them in the kitchen.

“Great, there’s a bathroom right there.” She pointed to the other side of the dining nook. “You can change there, and I’ll get my suit on.” Her hands interlocked together then twisted in a nervous fashion. “I’ll be right back.” She ran up the stairs.

***

Jillian stopped just inside her bedroom door and collapsed back against the wall. She couldn’t believe what just about happened. She’d almost kissed Mark Richards. Her heart thundered in her chest. She could still feel his arms around her. She tried to tell herself that he had done it only to comfort her, but even she couldn’t mistake the look on his face. It was hot, full of desire.

If Jordan had come in one second later, he would have seen his coach kissing his father. And she wanted to kiss him, more than she’d ever wanted anything. She felt flushed. She had almost convinced herself what she had been feeling for him was gratitude, security, frustration. Well, all those things were there, but there was something deeper, something more. Something she’d never experienced before.

She was drawn to Mark Richards. Not just looks and lusting after a good-looking man. This wasn’t the same. Not that Mark wasn’t good looking − he was, and extremely appealing to her, but her feelings for him were from deep in her heart. It was a shake the world feeling that frightened and excited her.

The question was − what to do about it?

She dropped her head to her hands and drew in a deep breath. Right now, she’d put on her swimming suit and join him and his son at the pool like nothing had happened to tilt her world. Oh, heavens, she’d have to go before him in a swimsuit. It was okay. She could do it. She had a good body.

Jillian pushed away from the wall, going to pick out a suit. She stared down helpless, what she didn’t own was one of those suits meant to catch a man’s eye. Hers were more the utilitarian type, plain one piece meant for swimming laps. Well, she wasn’t trying to catch Mark’s eye. She was swimming with his son. She picked out her newest suit, a light teal, and went to change.

A second later, she stood in front of the mirror and tried again to catch her breath. Okay, she looked good, she conceded. She was making too much out of this. So what if he almost kissed her? She’d been kissed before, just maybe not as often as most women her age. But, she’d been a late bloomer, a tomboy and just too busy. She was an adult now, a successful business woman. She could handle a man desiring her.

What if he didn’t? What if it was all her? What if she’d read the situation wrong? With a groan, she turned to get some beach towels. She was going insane.

Father and son were waiting for her as she came down the stairs. Jordan sat on the floor by Abby. Abby’s chin rested on his thigh.

She smiled at the boy. “She’s not very active, yet.” The sight of the dog brought reality back. “She’s still sore, and the medication Dr. Jones gave her makes her sleepy.” Jillian went over to the dog and bent down to stroke Abby’s head. “You be a good girl, and we’ll be back soon.”

Jillian stood, looking back to Mark, letting herself get her first good look at him. She totally forgot the newspaper article as her heart lurched once more. He was a handsome man. His sandy-brown hair was brushed back carelessly. His shoulders were broad. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were well-defined. His skin was tanned with a sprinkling of darker hair. His suit came almost to his knees, but still showed a pair of nice, masculine legs.

The knock on the door pulled her attention from the man before she could do something foolish like an old-fashion swoon.

“That’ll be Sam. Let’s go.” She drew in a deep breath as she opened the door.

***

Mark was having a hard time keeping from staring at Jillian. She was beautiful. All long lines and tantalizing curves. Her one piece suit might be considered modest, but oh, did it hug her contour nicely. The color set off the golden tan of her skin, and made her eyes pick up an almost green tint in the blue. She moved with an athletic grace that was … oh, wow. He wanted so much to span her narrow waist with his hands. Lift her up over his head and let her slide down in his arms. She wasn’t delicate. She was lithe, strong and perfect.

He tried to force his thoughts back to a safer level. What was he thinking? He couldn’t get involved with her. He was the police chief and she was his witness. They’d met in the line of work. True, he’d have met her anyway as Jordan’s coach, which probably wasn’t much better.

He should back off. Then he thought about almost kissing her. He’d been going to. There was no denying it. And, there was no denying she was going to let him kiss her. He’d seen the desire in her eyes. He felt another rush of excitement, which escalated when he let his eyes linger over her again.

He jerked himself back. She was not only involved in a case, but he was almost ten years older than her, way too old for her. He wasn’t the cradle-robber type. Okay, so it wouldn’t be cradle-robbing, but ten years. That was too much. Five, six, maybe even seven, but ten? Well, not quite ten. He watched as Jillian turned to catch the ball Jordan threw to her in a game of keep away. Her body came up out of the water as she leapt to make the catch.

Okay, so what were a few more years? Mark forgot all about their ages and took off after her with powerful strokes. His arm snaked around her waist, and exhilaration coursed through him even though she got the ball off before he had time to grab it from her. He felt he won the greater prize. She was laughing when she turned in his arms then they both went down under the water and came up gasping. She broke free.

Water spiked her eyelashes, framing the playful glint in her eyes. She laughed, swimming away to be in position to receive the throw from whomever he tried to get the ball from.