Conflicting Interests (18 page)

“What if you just like me because of all of this?” Her mouth
was feeling far too comfortable. It must be the Italian.

“This?” He mocked with a forkful of chicken saltimbocca
halfway to his mouth.

“This case. The anxiety, the adrenaline, the constant state
of craziness.”

“First of all I deal with this type of stress all the time.
Second of all it doesn’t explain why I wanted to fuck you until you’d stop
berating me at parent-teacher conferences.” He chuckled warmly, still holding
his fork midair.

“So it really has nothing to do with all of this?”

“If some adrenaline-fueled lust is why you are here with me,
then we need to talk. This is the biggest interruption to what I want to be
doing with you.” His face was suddenly quite serious.

“Which is what?”

“Getting to know you better. Figuring you out, I suppose.
Making you fall in love with me.” His words and his eyes trailed off at this
last statement and Katrina’s heart was suddenly pounding.

“Do you love me?” She thought it sounded like a logical
question in her head but the second she uttered the words she was mortified.
Her voice was quiet, she couldn’t swallow and for the life of her, she couldn’t
look at his eyes that were suddenly back on her.

“Yes.” He sounded as quiet as she did and when the waitress
appeared out of nowhere asking how their food was, they just stared at each
other, saying nothing—not even to the poor confused waitress standing by
patiently.

“Yes.” She was whispering again. She’d never whispered so
much in her life.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, ‘yes’? I asked how the eggplant was?”

“No, I mean, yes. I mean yes to him and the eggplant. It’s
good too but, uh…” Shit, she was losing it but Dillon was smiling. He was
amused and his hand found hers on the tabletop, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s nothing. She’s in love with me, that’s all. The food’s
delicious too.” The waitress gave them an odd nod before leaving. They didn’t
see much of her after that but then they weren’t paying much attention to
anyone but each other.

* * * * *

His admission had shocked the hell out of him about as much
as it seemed to shock her. When she told him she loved him too, well that took
shock to a whole new level. Then to top it off, she climbed into his lap the
moment he’d turned his Tahoe off and hit the garage door opener, closing it.
Shock number three and while the first two melted his heart, this one sent a
different kind of heat through his body.

She was undoing the buttons of his shirt while he attacked
her mouth. She parted the fabric of his shirt with a ravenous jerk and her
mouth moved down to his neck. He was too old for hickeys but he wasn’t going to
be stopping her mouth as she sucked on his skin. When she scooted back toward
the steering wheel, it was so she could trail her mouth down to his nipple. She
nipped gently with her teeth and he groaned.

He pulled her shirt over her head and took in her black bra.
She had incredible breasts—perky with the softest skin he’d ever felt. He
pulled the cups down below her breasts, pushing the perkiness up even more. She
had only small partial lines of scabbing at this point from where she’d been
cut and most of the cuts were nothing more than thin scars.

He ran his fingers across the slightly raised pink lines and
she leaned back, watching him. When he leaned down and sucked her nipple into
his mouth, his fingers kneaded the plump mound of her breast as his mouth
worked. He squeezed, careful not to be too rough around the last remaining
healing lines and he pulled. He let his front teeth clamp down gently and she
moaned as she slid her pelvis back to meet his.

She was wearing pants and as his arousal continued to mount
and her hips pushed down to his desperately, he stilled her body gently with
his hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you wear crotchless pants today?” His voice
was husky as he spoke in her ear.

“Sorry. What was I thinking?”

He smacked her ass playfully and she flinched, pulling her
body even closer to his. He kissed her, careful not to let things get too
heated again before pulling his mouth from her and shaking his head in mock
disapproval. When he pulled the door handle, she dropped her head to his
shoulder.

“Hang on, sweetie.” He stood with her straddling his hips
and her legs gripped him tightly while her arms hugged him.

He wasted no time carrying her into the house and planting
her on the couch but then his cell phone started ringing. He contemplated
letting it ring but her eyebrows shot up when it rang for the third time and he
sat up between her legs, snatching it from the coffee table where he’d
abandoned it. She lounged back on the couch, watching him.

“Your girl’s house is on fire. What do you wanna bet it’s
not accidental?” Dillon was silent, fighting to control his reaction to
Stephens’ words as Katrina watched him. “Fuck, she’s with you, isn’t she?
That’s why you’ve got nothing to say and why Terrell was bitching about her not
telling them where she’s been staying.”

“I’ll have to talk to you later.”

“You stupid fuck.”

Katrina’s phone started ringing but she had a hard time
pulling her eyes from Dillon to see who was calling. She was suspicious. She
was right to be. He couldn’t seem to hide the shock from her.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Wait.” Stephens snapped at him.

Katrina answered her phone as he was waiting for Stephens to
say something more and when he saw her face fall, he knew she’d just been given
the news. Her eyes instantly filled with tears and she turned her face from
him, reaching her hand up to cover her eyes as she started to cry.

“I’ll stop by to pick her up. They’ll need to talk to her
and I’m guessing it’ll be better if she shows up with me than you. No one
thinks I’m fucking her.” Stephens disconnected and Dillon reached for her.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. That was Stephens. He just told me.”

“Why? Why would someone do this?” She was sobbing as he
pulled her into his lap. She sank against him.

“I don’t know, sweetie. I’m so sorry. Stephens is going to
come pick you up and take you to the precinct. He’ll be here in about fifteen
minutes. Can I get you anything?”

“No.” And he went back to holding her. There was nothing
more he could do for her and it was a helpless feeling.

“Will they let me see the house?” She kept shaking her head
in disbelief and she couldn’t stop the tears.

“Not tonight. Not until SFD and forensics have cleared the
scene.” He kept his voice low, soothing. It was the same voice he used when he
spoke to pretty much any female witness and he hated the sound of it right now.
There was nothing about her that he could allow to be anything like them but
she responded to his voice and she snuggled in closer to him, relaxing against
his body. This was definitely not how he handled his witnesses.

When Stephens knocked on the door she stood and he followed
her. Stephens stepped through the door and regarded them both. He glared at
Dillon and tried for a sympathetic expression with her. Niceties just weren’t
his thing—which was why Dillon was the front man in their team.

“You’ll be able to see the house sometime over the next
couple days to see if there’s anything salvageable but I wouldn’t expect much.”
She nodded but her tears were sitting precariously on her lower lids, just
waiting for an excuse to fall again.

When Stephens reached a hand out to her shoulder, he spoke.
“I’m sorry, Katrina.” Hell, he didn’t even address her formally. Dillon was
starting to suspect he knew why his partner was trying to protect him and it
was far less to do with him and more to do with her. He liked her. Not the like
that would make Dillon want to knock his teeth out—he just liked her, respected
her.

Her tears started to fall and Stephens pulled his hand back,
shaking his head in frustration. It wasn’t frustration at Katrina. It was
frustration at this case, at the jeopardy her life was in, the threat that
lingered over her head regardless of what they did to try to stop it. He and
Stephens were on the same page for once and it was all about protecting
Katrina.

He likely shouldn’t touch Katrina in front of Stephens but
there was no way he could stand idly by while she endured this and when he
pulled her into his arms, she didn’t object nor did Stephens. “You have your
key?” She nodded as she pulled from him. “I’ll talk to you when you get home.
I’m sorry I’m not going with you.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” She was
trying to reassure him. Odd. That was his job. He threw caution to the wind
entirely when he leaned to her mouth and kissed her. It was just one gentle
sweet kiss, though admittedly finishing it off by telling her he loved her was
pushing things. Stephens harrumphed but said nothing.

“I love you too.”

He watched as Stephens walked her out to his car and he
watched as they backed from his driveway. Helplessness was beginning to take
over his life and he hated it.

By the time they reached the precinct it was nearly ten and
by the time she waited a couple of hours for Smith and Terrell to arrive back
from the scene it was after midnight. They asked her endless questions—the same
ones they’d asked her a hundred times before. They gave her status updates on
just how destroyed her home was.

The fire department took the better portion of the night
putting it out and once it was safe, Detectives Smith and Terrell drove her by
her home so she could sob until she sank into a stupor. They wouldn’t let her
get out and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to. Her neighbors—people who
she’d said hi to, waved to, chatted with—all stood around, staring at her still-smoking
pile of burned-out house.

When they brought her back to the precinct Stephens was
still there waiting for her, looking annoyed and perhaps a bit exhausted. It
was now the ass crack of dawn and for all the emotion coursing through her like
a raging river of confusion, she was still worn out and ready to slip away to
something more peaceful than real life.

As she sat and waited she tried her damndest to figure out
what the hell was going on in her head. She was numb one minute and then in a
nanosecond she was livid and wanted to scream.

Her rage was short-lived as the memories of the home she’d
made for herself started circling in her head. Then her sadness turned to
outright terror at just how truly fucked she might be. Relief she was at least
alive for the time being crept in after that and then the numbness took over
again as she fought to wrap her head around it all.

“Can I take Ms. Page home now, boys?” Stephens seemed to be
friends with Detective Terrell, given their slightly more personable regard for
each other but Detective Smith was another matter.

“What? You her escort now, that it?”

Stephens chuckled humorlessly. “Fuck no. Ms. Page and I run
in the same circles. She’s an educator and I’m just smart as fuck.” Stephens
had an odd way of defusing the situation and refusing to give a straight
answer. “We’re cerebral types, Ms. Page and I and we ain’t got time for your
bullshit. Now can I get her outta here or do you two want to waste more of her
time?”

They were on the road less than ten minutes later. It was
far too early for Katrina’s taste and when she put it in the context of having
not even slept yet, it was just far too damn late. Stephens pulled through a
Starbucks drive-through, ordering himself a grande dark roast with three extra
shots of espresso.
Damn.
“Whatcha want, Ms. Page?”

“Katrina. Please. I expect all my chauffeurs to call me by
my first name.” He smiled. She’d never seen him smile before. “I’ll just have a
sugar-free vanilla steamer.”

“A whater?”

Now it was her turn to smile. It was weak, likely
unconvincing, but it was a start. The light pink that was brightening the sky
by the minute was much-needed medicine to her mood. Kitty was safe. She was too
and not a damn bit of what that lunatic had taken away from her had a
heartbeat. She was lucky really. She was also homeless.

“It’s steamed milk with vanilla flavor. I intend to sleep
when I get home, not stay awake for a week straight like you apparently intend
to do.”

Once they had their drinks in hand, he headed toward
Dillon’s house and she stared out at the slowly lightening sky.

“Can I ask what your first name is, Detective?”

“Marcus. Or Marc.”

“Why don’t you and Dillon get along? It’s not just me is
it?”

“Humph…” She was getting used to his
humphs
. She
seldom had any idea what exactly they meant but she knew they weren’t
malicious. Nothing about Stephens was—not that it was easy to tell.

“Gettin’ along with people hasn’t always been my strong
suit. Don’t mean I don’t like the man. Like him just fine. And frankly I get
along with him as good as anyone.”

“You’re…helping him with this situation. I guess I was just
wondering why.”

“By situation I assume you mean the fact you’re fucking
him.”

“Now is that how us cerebral folk talk?”

Another humph. “What you two are doin’ is risky. It’s a good
thing he’s not on your case anymore. And not ‘cause I think he’s not a capable
detective. He’s one of the best I ever known. We’re good at what we do but he
was losing his perspective with you.”

She nodded. She understood that much.

“Now it’s his career he’s gotta worry about. This case won’t
always stand in the way. And he ain’t the first detective to fall for a
witness. It happens. But discretion is the name of the game and this fucking
perp put your relationship front and center with his photographic talents.” She
was being silent listening to him. He wasn’t a man of many words and if he was
ready to talk she was going to listen.

“Truth of the matter is I get it. He can’t stay away from
you. And frankly I’d rather see you living with him than anywhere else but it’s
gonna be a risk to his career until this thing is over. The rules about
conflict of interest are gray. What is and what isn’t considered a conflict
isn’t as cut-and-dry as you might think. He was told to stay away from you and
he’s not. Now that don’t mean he’s out a job. What it means is he could be if
the chief decides to make a big deal out of it. He could be if your
relationship ever becomes an issue in court. It’s just a hell of a lot of
could-bes he has hanging over his head.”

“You think I should stop seeing him?” It hurt to even
consider and she wasn’t sure she could even do it.

“No.” And then he pulled over abruptly and turned to her.
“No.” He stared at the floor of the car at her feet with a perplexed look on
his face. He shook his head subtly and it was a ridiculously long time before
he finally looked up to her again. “I like you. I like you with him. You’re
good for him. The kind of good that makes this risk worth it. You asked why I
was stepping in and helping to take some of the heat off him. That’s your
answer.”

He put the car back in drive but before he pulled back into
traffic he turned to her once more. “You can keep that bit of information to
yourself. Don’t need him thinkin’ I’ve gone all mushy and shit.”

“You got it, Detective Stephens.” She threw him an
exaggerated wink and clicked her tongue in her cheek for effect.

“It’s Marc.”

He walked her to the door when they got back to Dillon’s and
Dillon met them. He looked as exhausted as she felt and he was still dressed
from the night before. He thanked Stephens and then he led her up to his
bedroom, pulling the curtains closed and crawling in next to her. She was
asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow with his arms tightly around her.

* * * * *

She woke him as she sat bolt upright in bed next him,
screaming. He’d had a few nightmares in his day. Seth went through a period of
them after Jake and Molly were in a car accident that woke him nearly every
night for a month. But this one took the cake. She was shrieking in terror and
it quickly turned to sobs as she realized the nightmare was her reality.

“You’re okay, baby.” He murmured against her ear as she let
him pull her closer.

She turned to him, her eyes glistening in the afternoon
sunlight that was peeking in around the closed curtains. “He’s going to kill
me.” There wasn’t an ounce of inflection in her voice.

“No he’s not. That’s not going to happen.” He stroked the
skin of her back and she slowly stopped trembling and snuggled into him again.
“I’m going to call the officer who teaches the self-defense class I was talking
about in a little while. Her class is on Tuesday nights at the Y. I’m going to
see if she can either get you in tomorrow or make time for you individually.”

“Can’t you just show me?”

“We seem to get sidetracked.” He tried to lighten her mood
with a smile. “Besides, she has volunteers who wear protective gear so you
actually get to practice hands on.” He smirked and she finally smiled.

“Because you’re afraid I’m going to hurt you?”

“I guarantee if I let you put your knee in my groin, you’ll
put me on the ground.” He kissed her. “How about we take a shower, make dinner
and I call Selena to see about her class?” She nodded and followed him to the
bathroom.

They stood under the hot jets and he held her against him,
fighting with his body about whether to be aroused or not. It was impossible
not to. She was naked, after all, and he worshipped her incredible figure, for
another. Flipping the off switch for his dick was just impossible in her
presence but she didn’t mind his raging hard-on that was tight between their
bodies.

When he finally released her and turned to face the shower,
she reached around his waist and she pulled herself close to his back. She
kissed along his skin as her fingers gently caressed his stomach and down
farther to his hips and thighs. She was very intentionally ignoring his
erection but he wasn’t.

Her hands trailing so gently over his skin was not something
his cock could ignore and he stroked his length as her hands moved feather
light against his skin. When she finally let one hand work its way to his
testicles and the other found his hand gripping his shaft, he groaned.

She laced her fingers with his against his dick as her other
hand squeezed and worked his balls gently in her palm. They moved their fingers
up and down his erection, taunting and torturing his arousal until he was
sucking in breaths of air, rapidly nearing his threshold. He came as he braced
himself against the shower wall with his free hand. She continued to stroke and
palm him as he spasmed and pulsed through his release.

She escaped quietly when he was recovering in the shower and
he found her downstairs raiding his kitchen shortly thereafter. He discovered
quickly that teaching wasn’t her only talent. She was quite an impressive cook
and after he let her have her way with his cupboards and fridge, she knocked
out an incredible meal of white chili and soda bread.

“I want to talk to Seth about what’s going on.” He realized
a bit too late he wasn’t taking his own good advice by forgetting the statement
should really be a question.

“He doesn’t need to know about all this.”

“No he doesn’t, but he does. He already knows something is
going on with you and he knows I am somehow involved. I’m not suggesting he
knows all the details or even most of them but I want to be able to have you
close—have you here and not have to make excuses.”

He could tell he wasn’t going to like her response even
before she opened her mouth to say it. “When he gets back from spring break,
I…” She looked nearly nervous. “I don’t think I should stay here. I’m not even
sure I should stay with Imogen.”

“What are you talking about?” He wasn’t appreciating a damn
word of what she was saying.

“I think I should stay in a hotel or find an apartment or…”

“No!” He didn’t mean to sound angry but he’d be damned if
that wasn’t exactly how he sounded.

“I’m afraid anyone around me could end up being in danger
because of me and I can’t…I can’t be responsible for that. I won’t have Seth in
danger because of me, or Imogen for that matter. It’s bad enough I’m here
running the risk that he figures out I’m here too, putting you in danger. What
happens if he figures out who you are? What if he already knows? He’s already
seen you. I’ve already put you and Seth in danger.”

“You haven’t put anyone at risk. He has. This is his fault,
Kat and you can’t make yourself responsible.”

“No but I can sure as hell do what I can to protect the
people I care about! It doesn’t really matter whose fault it is. It would kill
me if something happened to you or Imogen or God! Seth? No! How could I deal
with that?”

“You can’t deal with this alone, Katrina!”

“I don’t see that I have a choice. I don’t have any other
choice I can live with.”

“So what does that mean for us?”

She stared at him, swallowing harshly over a lump in her
throat. He really hadn’t intended on the conversation getting to this point. He
wanted her to agree to move in but here she was threatening to pull them apart
because of this damn thing.

“I don’t know.” She suddenly couldn’t look at him. Their
food was forgotten—their rather nice shower before dinner was gone now too.
This fucking head case wackjob was going to tear them apart and Dillon wasn’t
willing to accept that.

When there was suddenly a knock on the door, they both
jumped. Stephens strolled in the moment Dillon opened the door for him.
“Where’s your girlfriend?”

“Dining room. What’s up?”

“Well I’m a fucking messenger boy, don’t ya know?”

Stephens followed him to the dining room where Katrina was
sitting staring out the window. He hated the way things were between them at
the moment. It was starting to feel like a habit. They were riding some damn
yo-yo thanks to the lunatic who was making it impossible for them to just be a
normal couple. Every aspect of this case somehow touched on their relationship
and tried to fuck it up.

Katrina finally looked up to Stephens. “Don’t you ever
sleep, Marc?”
Marc?
What the fuck is that about?
Her voice
sounded tired and exasperated.

“Nah. Who needs sleep? Tomorrow I’m going to take you over
to your house. The fire inspector and forensics are going through the scene
today and you’ll be able to see the damage tomorrow. I drove by earlier and I’m
warning you it’s a total loss. Smith and Terrell want you to meet them there so
I told them I’d bring you.”

“You can’t possibly have time to drive me around.”

He chuckled quietly as they looked at each other. She looked
guilty and he looked oddly sympathetic. Dillon was just jealous. “I have all
the time in the world this week. I’m not on rotation until Adler’s back on the
clock Sunday night so I’m just following up on loose ends this week.”