Authors: Carolann Camillo
Tags: #Contemporary Romantic Suspense, Police Procedural
“No. I was just thinking about taking a break.”
“You work too hard, Allie. You know the old saying. ‘All work and no play’…although I suspect there’s nothing dull about you. City gal, successful career woman…”
Conversing with him nauseated her. Still, it was vital to gather information. The trick was to probe without raising suspicion. Cops were probably trained in those subtleties. One stood three feet from her, but his was a secondary role. She was front and center.
“Yes, well, sometimes hard work is necessary, especially when I have to meet a deadline.”
While she spoke, Ben had printed the usual where/when on his pad. She nodded and mouthed, “First chance.”
“You should loosen up a little. Don’t let yourself become too tense. I know a lot about tension. You get all wound up and have to look for a way to relieve the strain. Then you have to hope it works out the way you planned.”
Allie tried to shut down her imagination, tried not to read anything sinister into his words. Nice try, but she knew too much about him and the horrible way he went about relieving the strain. Her fingers tightened around the receiver as a tremor gripped her hand.
Ben moved close to her and touched her shoulder. He mouthed, “You’re doing fine.” Then he stepped away and pointed to the words he’d previously printed on the pad.
The support she gained from his brief touch gave her courage. “Maybe I am a little tense,” she said.
“Sure, the competition…”
“Yes.”
And knowing what he had planned for her
.
“I bet you’ll ace it.”
“Hope so.”
“I checked it out at an Internet café. It’s a really big deal with a tent right behind City Hall. Sweet. Bet you’re excited.”
“Yes.” Almost a whisper, her day-to-day excitement virtually killed off by Dave’s interest.
“Then it’ll be time for some fun. What do you like to do for excitement down there? I’m looking forward to you showing me around. You know hit some of the tourist
sights and maybe even some off the beaten track. Jimmy said there are parks in the area with redwood groves. Growing up in Seattle, I’m something of an outdoor man myself. How about you? Ever go sailing or hiking?”
The rain beat against the roof with renewed fury. Wind, along with a vicious cloud burst, whipped against the glass and rattled the windows. Another gust tore at the roof shingles. Allie closed her eyes for a moment and clasped one arm tightly around her body. Seconds passed during which she reminded herself this was only a phone conversation. She would never come face-to-face with the monster on the other end of the line.
“Allie, you there?”
“Yes. I was…ah…just thinking about what out-of-towners usually like to do when they visit the city. There are…ah…so many sights. I’m trying to think of the most popular ones.”
Sutter drummed his fingers against the yellow pad, drawing her attention to the words where/when. He rolled his hand in a signal for her to get to the point.
“Whatever you suggest works for me. You know the area best.” The line fell silent for a moment. “Of course, you’ve got the bay down there, too. I think I’d like to take a cruise. Maybe have dinner out on the water. See the city lit up at night. But I’ll go along with whatever you prefer.”
She would never let him corner her on a boat. The tides were so swift in the bay that a body would be quickly swept out to sea.
A clap of thunder made her jump. If it had been preceded by lightning, the flash of white light had gone unnoticed by Allie, since her eyes remained locked on Sutter’s.
He gave her another get-to-the-point sign by pin wheeling his free hand, impatience evident in his eyes.
“A cruise…maybe,” Allie said. “It’s already June and that could mean foggy weather.” She gulped a mouthful of air. Ben’s hand moved in ever growing circles, urging her to get on with it before Dave disconnected. “Whereabouts are you anyway? When do you think you’ll arrive? You never did say.” The words tumbled out on a hurried breath.
“Well, Allie, sometimes a man likes to keep some things secret from a woman. You know, surprise her. Keep her guessing. I’m something of a spur-of-the-moment guy with women. But I’ll tell you what. The second I hit town, I’ll pick up the phone. You’ll know I’m here. I’m really anxious for us to finally get together.”
She shuddered, imagining a smirk puffing up the lower part of his face just as pride in his vile accomplishments probably puffed up his chest. She wanted to scream, “When?” But that question had already gone unanswered.
The low dull drum of thunder rolled off in the distance, preceded by a lightning flash. Allie sucked in a deep breath.
“Hey, you okay?”
Frustration etched Ben’s features.
She wanted to slam down the receiver, but instead sought to find a way to end the conversation without arousing suspicion. “Yes…ah…I’m fine. Although right now it’s thundering…and raining pretty hard.”
“You call that thunder?” He laughed. “That’s nothing more than a low rumble. You should hear how it crashes up in Seattle. Enough to shake the socks right off your feet some days.”
An icy chill swept through Allie’s body. It reminded her of a long-gone day when another kid had thrown her into the community swimming pool several weeks before the season opened. Not yet heated, the water had been almost frigid. She thought the shock of the cold would stop her heart. The chill she felt right now superseded even that.
Allie’s eyes locked onto Ben’s, and she mouthed, “He’s here.”
Sutter gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Well, stay dry,” Dave said. “I’ll catch you later. Right now, though, I’ve gotta run.”
The line cut to a dial tone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Allie’s fingers went limp. She dropped the phone, and it hit the hardwood floor with a loud clunk. Ben pushed it with his foot, and the instrument skittered toward the far side of the room.
He never took his eyes off her. His intense gaze underwent a noticeable change from just moments earlier, as if he fully understood her fears and, somehow, he would ease them. Without saying a word, he opened his arms, and she walked into them. His body’s natural heat allayed some of the cold that still stabbed at her chest and stiffened her fingers. He closed his arms around her and brought his head close to hers.
Thoughts, like sand in a whirlwind, spiraled through her brain: the looming presence of Dave. The danger he posed. Her vulnerability once the SFPD protection ended. And, by no means least, now finding herself in Ben’s arms. The storm outside momentarily abated, so only gentle raindrops pelted the windows. Quiet had settled inside the house. A quiet that ran counterpoint to the roar building inside Allie’s head.
His brow moved with the lightest touch against her temple. Her cheek grazed the hard ridge of his jaw, and her chin brushed the shoulder of his dress shirt. She inhaled the freshness of the cotton. Her breath, at first shallow and rapid, gradually deepened and slowed. She felt safe. For now.
Still, she shifted back a fraction. This was Ben, the cool, controlled detective and not a man with whom she had an intimate relationship. Unsure of how to proceed, she was doubly uncertain if she should allow the closeness to continue.
He seemed to have no such qualms. His lips brushed one edge of hers. Immediately heat pooled there. A softly whispered breath warmed her cheek. Then he moved to cover her mouth with his. His lips were firm, yet the kiss was sweet and gently probing. Whatever her doubts, they vanished as he parted her lips with his tongue. Longings she must have unconsciously harbored for him surfaced, and, greedy now for the touch and taste of him, her mouth opened like a bloom eagerly spreading its petals to the sun.
The intimate contact brought a sensory jolt of surging heat spiraling down from the roots of her hair. Her body, pressed hard against his, warmed. Right or wrong, whatever the circumstances, his timing was impeccable. More than once, she’d thought about what it would be like to kiss him, wondered if he’d ever harbored such thoughts about her. He’d given no indication, yet the idea must have been planted somewhere in his mind. This moment proved as much.
Excitement brought her arms up onto his shoulders, and she pressed her palms against the crisp fabric below his shirt collar. A muscle in his back quivered. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against her hands. With the smallest movement, her fingers could stroke the back of his neck. She had no doubt he would welcome this slight, fervent aggression. Yet, she dared not. There was only so much danger she was willing to deal with.
He drew her closer. The growing demand of his lips a deeply intense heat. His body, sculpted of hard muscle and bone beneath his clothes, melted into hers. His hands patterned her back, his fingers moving over her ribs, pressing hard but not overly so. Then one hand moved to her neck, stroked it with a feathery touch before his splayed fingers became embedded in her hair. Their kiss deepened, his tongue found hers, and a low groan escaped his throat. She sensed the pent-up hunger inside him. The force of his kiss shook her innermost core and drove her body harder against his. She felt the outline of his belt buckle through her cotton T-shirt. His excitement matched hers—there was no mistaking the obvious signs.
And, in that moment of clarity, she froze. At almost the same instant, his arms pulled away from her. He stepped back abruptly as if obeying a neon sign blaring the warning “Do not touch.”
The guilt stamped on his face spoke of his clear comprehension. He’d shed his professional persona with the same ease with which he might shed his coat. His brow knit, and he looked away, half turned from her and raked his fingers through his hair. He muttered something incoherent. From the tone, probably a self-condemnation. She guessed he was angry with himself for heading down a road as pitted as a minefield. Maybe his anger extended to her, as well, for following so eagerly, blind to the danger. Too late, he tried to take control of a situation that had gotten very much out of hand.
“Look…I…” He lowered his head, pinched the back of his neck. “What the hell was I thinking?”
He turned toward her then, but his attention seemed drawn to some far-off point. His gaze seemed unfocused as if, for a moment, he wasn’t fully aware of her presence. He clamped a hand to the top of his head and took a long step back. “You really blew it, Sutter.”
Those words were quite clearly directed at himself.
She said nothing. Any words from her would probably only worsen an already sticky situation. As if anything coherent came to mind. Her reaction, even now, was purely emotional. It flooded her with a warm glow, and, unlike him, she had only one regret; the kiss’s brevity. Probably, he considered those forbidden moments a very serious breach of conduct. He was the professional, a trained officer of the law, here for only one purpose: to perform his duty and not come on to the woman he’d pledged to protect.
He punished his hair with another harsh finger scrape and mumbled, “I could lose my job.” He shook his head again, two or three quick jerks followed by a glance her way. “Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it.”
A frown dug deep furrows into his brow.
Now seemed like the appropriate time for her to speak, but what could she say? Obviously, neither of them were going to forget it had happened. Nor was it plausible to pretend it didn’t put a different complexion on their relationship. Equally implausible, she wasn’t sorry. She’d wanted the intimacy, wanted him to touch her
all over
. She was pretty certain he’d wanted it, too. Her body had made that as clear as his did. Still, if he was waiting for her assurance that what had happened would never leave that room, she had better offer it quickly before he tore out all the hair on his head.
“Ben…” She shrugged and spread her hands out, palms up as if to tell him, “it’s over, done.” It took a few long moments, but what she did manage to say was, “Let’s just get on with the day.”
An unmistakable relief flooded his face. He dropped his hands and buried them in his pockets, and released a deep, audible sigh. “Yeah.”
However, instead of returning to his perch upstairs, his feet remained nailed to the floor. He nodded then said, “Right.”
Another choked breath seemed to fill the room. Maybe it held an expression of castigation or consternation, or maybe repentance. Finally, he headed for the stairs.
Before he proceeded up from the lower landing, he turned and faced her. He looked as if he wanted to add something. She waited. Then a slight curl lifted one corner of his mouth. To her it said he had not, for a second, regretted the kiss.
* * * *
Later, she was able to rationalize their intimacy as a mistake brought about by his need to allay her fears. Neither of them had planned it, and it hadn’t caused the earth to spin out of its orbit. She, at least, had reached a sensible conclusion: in the context of a professional relationship, it had been merely a breach of good sense. The chance of it happening again was less than zero.
With that in mind, she climbed the steps and walked down the hall to the master bedroom. She planted her feet firmly in the doorway, the boundary she had drawn for herself. Ben looked across the room at her, uncertainty in his eyes.
“He never asked about the flowers,” she said.
“Son-of-a-bitch.” He got up off his chair.
“I hadn’t thought about it until now. It just jumped into my head for no reason.”
He seemed at ease. Maybe he’d come to the same conclusion she had:
everyone’s entitled to a mistake, so why punish yourself?
“It seems strange,” she said.
“Maybe not. As far as he knows, you think he’s legitimate. So why wouldn’t he sign the card? He knows why he can’t, and so do we. Maybe he thought you’d be intrigued by the “Guess Who” sign-off. It’s reasonable to assume he wouldn’t want to kill the suspense anytime soon. Then again, he’ll want to avoid any questions as to why he didn’t use his name. Who knows what’s in his twisted mind? Somehow, he figures he’ll sort it out when he gets here.”