Chosen by Desire (30 page)

Vivian leveled her a hostile look and ambled off to pour their shots.

That
was sashaying. Carrie wasn’t sure she could get her hips to move that way.

Shoving one shot at her, Vivian handed the other to Rick with a batting of her eyelashes. When he took the drink, she let her fingers linger on his hand. Carrie didn’t bother to hide her grin as Rick placidly withdrew Vivian’s claw from his person and turned to her. “A toast before you tell me about your day?”

With another glare, Vivian huffed and walked off to help another customer.

Carrie lifted her shot glass. “To driving Vivian off.”

His smile grew slow and sly. “I can drink to that.”

She took a sip, tried not to shudder, and set down her glass. She noticed him watching her with humor and she shrugged. “I’m not a big drinker. The most I ever have is a beer, and that leaves me reeling.”

“Then whatever happened today must have been something.”

“On the scale of things, it wasn’t anything compared to your day.” When he just continued to steadily watch her, she shrugged. “I had this strange confrontation with a rival at school. It spooked me a little.”

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Unless he was tied to everything else. Then Trevor was totally dangerous.

Rick continued to stare at her with his no-nonsense cop’s gaze.

“Next you’ll be shining the bright lamp in my face.” She sighed. “I was leaving my advisor’s office, and Trevor cornered me to voice his unhappiness with the way the board is favoring me instead of him. We’re both up for the same job.”

He stilled. “What did he do?”

“Why do you think he did anything?” she asked to stall, taking another sip of tequila. Rick went on predator mode as quickly as Max. Maybe it was a guy thing. Though she couldn’t think of any other guy like that. Except Rhys.

“Cop instincts.” Rick angled himself to completely face her and looked her over.

“He didn’t touch me,” she assured him quickly. “He just went postal for a minute and it freaked me out. I’ve never seen him lose it that way. It’s probably just stress.”

“That doesn’t excuse his actions. That’s like saying the man who murdered the two people this morning was justified because his heart was broken at finding his girlfriend cheating on him.”

“So you’re saying going postal isn’t socially acceptable?”

“Don’t take your safety lightly,” he said, as serious as a heart attack.

She sighed. “I wish someone would teach me kung fu. You wouldn’t give me a couple pointers, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

She waited for him to expound, but he just sipped at his drink. She huffed in (mostly) mock exasperation. “Why not?”

“Because most people who study martial arts know enough to be dangerous.”

“I won’t hurt anyone.”

He shook his head. “You’d be a danger to yourself. You’d feel like you knew enough to handle yourself in any situation and take unnecessary chances. The best defense is to run.”

She thought back on how Trevor cornered her and frowned. “What if you get caught and can’t run?”

“You shouldn’t get caught. That’s where awareness comes into play.”

“I still think it’d be cool to be able to kick someone’s butt.”

He flashed one of his rare grins.

Toying with her glass, she tipped her head and studied him. “You know, you’re really too hot to be unattached.” Even the little bit of gray at his temples was sexy.

The amusement left his face. He lifted his glass to his lips. “How do you know I’m unattached?”

She shrugged. “Gut feeling. And you come in here all the time to see Gabe.”

“I come in here hoping to get a lead on her brother, who’s wanted for questioning in two murders.”

“I thought he was sighted in South America.”

“I’ve got the feeling he’ll be back.”

“Hmm.” Actually, she did, too. But she didn’t really believe that was the only reason he hung out at the bar all the time. “I just hope you aren’t waiting for Gabe, because she and Rhys were meant to be together. And Rhys will never let her go. That man adores the ground she walks on.”

Rick grunted and downed the rest of his drink.

Smiling, she pointed at Vivian with her chin. “I bet I could set you up with her, though.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“You sure?” Carrie leaned in and nudged his shoulder. “I hear she’s pretty affectionate.”

“I don’t want her talons anywhere near me. I prefer natural women.” He raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m hot?”

“I did two weeks ago.” She frowned at her glass. It seemed she preferred cool Vikings these days.

“Met Mr. Right?” he asked with unerring intuition.

“I’m not sure I’d call him Mr. Right. I’m not sure I’d call him, period.”

“Sounds like the man has some groveling to do.”

“Would you grovel?”

“If I loved her, I’d do anything to keep her.” He shrugged. “My job is a negative. The hours are long and erratic, and it’s dangerous. Most women can’t handle that.”

“If she loved you, she would.”

“That’s a lot of love.”

“But worth it, I bet.” Carrie pushed the shot glass away. “I should get home. I’ve got an exciting night of working on my thesis ahead of me.”

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She hopped off the stool and tripped on one of the legs.

He had the grace not to say anything, but he did arch his eyebrow. Taking her by the elbow, he urged her toward the door. “No trouble. Unless you live in Berkeley or something.”

“I’m not worth a trip across the bridge?”

He tugged on her ponytail but answered in all seriousness. “You’re worth it. Let’s go.”

“Oh.” She turned around to grab her bag. “Ready.”

As they walked to his car together, it struck her how it felt comfortable to be with him—but not exciting. Not like Max. She frowned.

“I know the car isn’t much, but it’s not that bad,” he said as he opened the door for her.

She smiled her thanks as he closed the door. She waited until he settled in the driver’s seat to say, “I didn’t frown at your car. I was just thinking.”

“Looked painful.”

Seriously. “I live on O’Farrell, close to Polk.”

He turned and stared at her. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not some cream puff who needs to be sheltered. And my neighborhood isn’t
that
bad.”

“Not if you’re looking to score.”

This time of night, it took only ten minutes to get home. Double-parking in front of her building, Rick turned the car off and joined her in looking out the window.

His mouth was set in a firm, disapproving line. “I can’t believe you live here.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty lush,” she said in an overly perky tone. She held her hand out to him. “Thanks for the ride. Next time, drinks are on me.”

Instead of replying, he got out of the car.

Before she could ask him what he was doing, he’d already shut the door and locked it. Confused, she followed him out. “What are you doing?”

He took her arm. “I’m walking you to your door.”

“You don’t have to.” She tested his grip and found it unshakable. “I do this every night on my own. I’m sure I can do it tonight, too.”

“You were spooked earlier. I’ll make sure your apartment is secure and then be on my way.” His tone was firm.

Still, it was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, for goodness’ sake. “It’s up three flights of stairs.”

“Are you telling me you think I’m out of shape?”

She shot a pointed gaze at his middle, which lacked any hint of fat. “If the donut fits…”

The corner of his mouth quirked—just the barest hint of amusement. He pushed her forward. “Open the door before someone thinks I’m your pimp.”

“I used to have such a peaceful life, but suddenly it’s filled with overbearing men.” She pulled out her key and opened the security gate. Rick, of course had gone into cop mode and wasn’t paying attention to her. Like someone was going to jump out at them. But he had her best interests at heart, so she humored him by following behind.

She couldn’t help stomping a little, though. And she had to ask, “Aren’t you going to unholster your gun?”

Ignoring her, he glanced back at her flatly and then picked up the pace so she almost had to run after him to keep up. By the time they reached her floor, she was huffing and puffing. He looked like he’d gone for a stroll in the park.

“I take back any disparaging remarks I made about the condition of your health,” she said, panting, as they rounded the corner. “In fact, I bet you run marathons.”

So intent on keeping up, she didn’t notice when he suddenly stopped and she ran smack into his back.

“Hey.” She looked around him to see what the deal was. “Why’d you stop?”

Then she saw why. Down the hall was her new door, and under it smoke billowed out in thick puffs.

O
h, my God.” Carrie darted around Rick. All her stuff was in there. Her books and schoolwork.
The scroll.

“Carrie,
no.
” Rick grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to a stop. With his free had, he pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call 911 and get the fire department out.”

“It’ll be too late.” She yanked free and ran down the hall. Behind her, she heard him curse and then issue terse orders for a fire crew as he treaded after her.

She checked the doorknob. Unlocked.
Hot.
Hissing, she pulled back and shook her hand, then used her sweatshirt to open it.

The heat hit her, and the heavy smoke made her eyes burn. She looked around, dazed. She thought it’d be a little fire that she could pour some water on to put out. This was an inferno. Orange flames licked over everything like a scene out of hell.

“Damn it, Carrie.” Rick pulled her back. “The fire department is on the way. We need to evacuate and wait for them.”

“It’ll be too late.” She tugged them both forward. “I need to get the scroll. It’s just across the room.”

“A room that’s in flames,” he yelled over the blaze’s crackle.

“I need to get it.” She broke free and was able to take one step before she was pushed to the floor.

A jacket dropped over her head. She lifted the end to find Rick’s face right in front of her. “It’s just over there, in my dresser.”

His glare singed her more than the flames. He pointed a finger. “If you want to do this, you follow me. We’re going in and out fast. We need to get the building cleared. Why the hell isn’t the fire alarm ringing?”

“Someone disconnected the fire alarms after Mrs. Warren moved in down the hall. She set them off every morning when she burned her toast,” she added inanely.

“Come on.” He crawled ahead of her, agile and quick. She felt awkward, but she needed that scroll, so she made sure she kept up.

The smoke was thick, even on the floor. By the time they reached the dresser, they were both coughing.

Hurry,
she urged herself. She lifted the coat and gasped when she saw her dresser burning.

The genealogy.
She reached for the drawer—

“
Carrie.
” Rick captured her hand. “It’s too late. We need to go.”

Sirens wailed outside. Wait for them? No—they were close, but not close enough.

The disembodied voice she associated with the Book of Water whispered in her mind:

All things are created. Wood feeds fire. Fire creates earth. Earth bears metal. Metal carries water. Water nourishes wood.

All things are destroyed. Wood parts earth. Earth absorbs water. Water quenches fire. Fire melts metal. Metal hews wood.

Water. If she could douse the flames even a little, she could retrieve the scroll.

She shook her head. No way would she be able to cart water from the kitchen or the bathroom back and forth through the blaze. But at Leonora’s office, she swore she felt condensation on her face after she envisioned the water soothing her. Was that what the voice was trying to tell her?