Authors: Virna DePaul
At his touch, tension seeped out of her bones. Her fingers’ own grip relaxed and her hands drifted apart. Her breath grew easy and soft. Simon stroked her hair then ran his fingers up the base of her neck and massaged her muscles with a light touch. He stared at her, intently, his lips parted. His chest rose and fell heavily with each breath he took.
“We’re all afraid of screwing things up,” she whispered. “
I’m
afraid of screwing things up. But I believe in you. That might not mean anything to you, but I do.” Unencumbered by the seat belt, she twisted, rose up and kissed him, tangling her tongue with his, matching him breath for breath. Heat slid from her chest to her core, followed by a wet sensation between her legs. A delicious slickness she hadn’t felt for a long, long time. Until Simon had come into her life.
“Nina,” Simon murmured against her lips.
Emotion, not just passion, swept through her like a tidal wave. And that scared her enough that she pulled away. Being open to a temporary fling was one thing, but she’d been kidding herself. She really did believe in Simon. She liked and respected him. And as much as she wanted physical intimacy with him, she craved emotional intimacy with him even more. He’d just given her huge insight into himself, and it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. And the more emotional intimacy she wanted from him, the more she felt herself backing away from the physical. She was swamped by the same insecurities that they’d been talking about. That she only thought she was ready. That her instincts were misleading her. And that she was going to screw things up for both of them.
She wasn’t ready to have sex with Simon—not yet. Maybe not ever. But he’d opened up to her. And given her the chance to open up to him as well, even if she hadn’t shared as much as he had. She was grateful for both.
With a hand, she stroked his cheek and then cupped his jaw. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me.”
He tipped his head and kissed the palm of her hand, then grinned at her. “I don’t know what came over you, either, but I liked it.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A
FTER THE DRUNK-AND-DISORDERLY
stop at the park, Nina accompanied Simon on a few other calls, all of them uneventful. At the end of the day, he drove her home, promising to pick her up in the morning and leaving only after going over the new security system that DeMarco had installed. It was pretty straightforward, which she kind of regretted since it took Simon all of thirty seconds to explain it to her and then he was ready to leave again. After an awkward hug and gentle command that she “be careful,” he was gone.
She spent the next half hour mulling over their conversation at Golden Gate Park, and then mulling over their hot and heavy kiss. She’d been scared by the power he seemed to have over her. She still was. But that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about that kiss turning into something more. Something that involved them both naked and horizontal. He took turns exploring first her neck, then her breasts, then between her legs. That particular spot was aching so much she was actually contemplating doing something about it when Karen called and invited her to have a drink. She figured drinks or masturbation were her two choices for the evening, and since masturbation would be a very poor substitute for the real thing...
Now, Karen listened patiently as Nina described the calls she and Simon had experienced, and how the patrol officers and Simon had responded to the various situations. Of course, she refrained from talking about Lester Davenport or Six. There was no need to dredge up the past or worry Karen, especially since nothing else had happened and likely wouldn’t. She was safe. When she wasn’t home, she’d be spending her time with Simon, and when she was home, she’d be protected by the new security system DeMarco had installed.
“So there’s definitely room for improvement,” Nina said, “but I don’t see anything that can’t be easily remedied by the MHIT program.”
“That’s good to hear. Call me again on Friday night so you can give me another update. Now, let’s move on to a juicier topic.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Nina. You know what I’m dying to hear about.”
“Uh, no. I really don’t.”
“The hunk. I want to know how things are going with the hunk. I’ve seen pictures, remember? That Simon Granger is man candy. Has he shown any interest? Have you given him anything to go on? Put your cleavage in front of his eyes? Walked past him in the halls a little too closely so he could brush up against your boobs or your butt?”
Nina fought to keep herself from blushing. This was a side of Karen she hadn’t seen before. Obviously, it was the liquor talking. She’d better be careful that the same thing didn’t happen to her.
She’d done more than allow Simon to look at her cleavage, but she wasn’t about to tell her friend—and boss—that.
“I have a professional relationship with the man. Even if I was attracted to him—” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say she
wasn’t
attracted to him “—I can’t go around seducing people I work with, now can I? How would that reflect on the hospital? On my reputation? What if someone claims I slept with him to gain his support for the MHIT program? It could ruin what little legitimacy we have in the police’s eyes.” For just a second, she wondered if that was exactly what Stevens and Simon were hoping for. But no, while she might have believed that at one time, she knew Simon now. She’d witnessed him in action. He was a good cop. A good man. One she wanted desperately.
Karen gulped the rest of her mojito and waved at the barman for another. “You’re worrying too much. You’re allowed to sleep with this man if you want. The question is, do you?”
Of course she did. Her body responded to Simon’s simply by being in the same room with him. Just thinking about his mouth on hers was enough to bring back the needy ache between her legs.
“No,” she insisted. “The question is how are my patients doing? Fill me in on that, would you?”
She did, and Nina laughed at some of the shenanigans her patients had been up to. It reminded her that she really did love working with them. And that once again reminded her of her conversation with Simon. He’d shared his fears. His desire for safety, for breathing room, and his concerns that it made him a coward. She, however, hadn’t shared the details of her own life and fears. Hadn’t confessed that Beth’s death had broken something inside her. That it had literally sent her running, away from work she’d always loved, because she’d needed to feel safe. She’d wanted to work with patients who were already close to dying so that death wouldn’t be a surprise. So that no one could blame her. Her failure to share all that with him didn’t seem fair, especially because part of her knew why she’d held back.
They’d made such progress since the first day they’d met. She hadn’t wanted to give him any reason to dislike or disrespect her again.
Frustrated, she took a bigger swallow of her drink than she’d intended to, draining it. “I’m looking forward to getting back to them,” Nina said.
The bartender placed their third round of mojitos down on the table and then Karen said, “Sure. As soon as you have enough info, you can come back to the hospital.” She waved at the mojitos. “We’ll do this again when you’re done, and one more time when the MHIT training launches. Sound good?”
Nina grinned. “Sure. So long as you remember I’m not making any promises...”
“Like I said, you worry too much.”
Yeah, well, having your life threatened and your cat murdered tended to do that to a person. But the truth was, she’d been a worrier even before those things had happened. It was easy to worry when you spent so much time alone or concerned about others. Being with Simon made her worry less because he was always surprising her—with his depth, his vulnerability, his humor. Sometimes he infuriated her and baffled her, but most of the time he simply made her feel...alive. Imagine if she could feel that way every day.
And every night.
As soon as she had that thought, she pictured it. Bare skin pressed to bare skin. Lips and tongues and fingers moving. Brushing. Caressing.
Savoring.
“Whoa. Exactly what are you thinking of? Or should I say,
who
are you thinking of?”
She jolted at Karen’s words. Swallowed hard. “Sorry. I guess I’ve had one too many drinks.”
“Uh-huh,” Karen said knowingly.
As Karen paid the check, Nina struggled with what she was feeling. Once again, she tried to get a handle on her feelings for Simon.
At the park, she’d been scared off by the power of her feelings for him. But she hadn’t spent a whole lot of time thinking about what he wanted from her, besides the physical. Was there a chance he wanted more than that from her? That he might want the emotional intimacy that she did? That he’d want a real relationship with her, even after this week was over?
The fact he’d opened up to her earlier in the day was a point in her favor. Despite what he’d said before, he’d obviously grown to like her. He also wanted her. And wanted to protect her. She could almost convince herself that those things meant something significant.
But he still had major issues with what she did for a living. And that meant he had major issues with who she was at her core. He was also still grieving the loss of Lana Hudson. And every time he thought of what Nina did for a living, he’d inevitably think of Lana.
For that reason alone, things could never work out between them.
She couldn’t forget that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
W
EDNESDAY AFTERNOON,
Simon snapped his cell phone shut and searched for Nina. He’d picked her up at her house that morning and they’d already gone on a couple of calls before stopping to have lunch back at SIG headquarters. Afterward, a victim on one of his cases had called wanting an update.
Nina had been across the room a few moments earlier, laughing with Carrie, but now she was nowhere in sight. He was about to check the break room for her when DeMarco came around the corner, his nose buried in a file, and almost slammed into Simon.
At seeing his friend, Simon immediately switched gears. “Hey. I was just looking for Nina but I wanted to get back to you about—”
“I haven’t seen her,” DeMarco snapped. “Besides, what do I look like? Your personal assistant?”
Simon frowned at DeMarco’s tone. Frowned even deeper at seeing his ramrod-straight spine and the quiver in his tightly clenched jaw. DeMarco’s swarthy good looks were pinched with tension. He looked about ready to blow. “What’s wrong? Did something happen on your date last night?”
“My date—? Oh, right. No. My date was fine.”
Given the way DeMarco averted his gaze, Simon didn’t buy that for a second. “You got something on your chest? Let’s get that drink you were talking about. Or a cup of coffee right now.”
Indecision flashed across DeMarco’s face before he shook his head. “You’re looking for Nina, remember? Besides, I’m fine,” DeMarco said. “I’ll catch you later.” He strode out of the office, leaving Simon to wonder what the hell was going on.
Sure, the stress of the job got to everyone at some point, but was that what this was about? He’d never seen DeMarco quite so on edge. Maybe Nina was right. Maybe DeMarco needed to talk to someone. Not just a friend but a professional...
Just as he had the first time he’d had the thought, Simon backtracked. Unlike before, he wasn’t so sure it was the right thing to do.
What? Now that he had a shrink at his side day in and day out, was he really starting to buy into the whole touchy-feely therapy thing? He wasn’t an idiot. He knew mental health professionals could really help people. Medicine, in particular, could do wonders for those who needed it.
But for someone like him? For someone like DeMarco?
No. They were stronger than that.
DeMarco didn’t need Simon to be all up in his business. He’d make sure they had that drink, but as for the counseling thing? DeMarco was a grown man and could make his own decisions.
He’d just started to look for Nina again when she rounded the corner, a cup of coffee in each hand, and proceeded to hand him one. “Cream, no sugar, right?”
“Uh, right. Thanks.” He gulped down the coffee, ignoring the burn in his throat, and said, “You ready to head out again?”
“Sure. I’m ready whenever—”
His cell phone rang again. “Sorry,” he said. “Let me just get this.”
“Sure. I’ll go say goodbye to Carrie.”
As she walked away, he answered his phone. “This is Simon Granger.”
“Simon, it’s Stevens. I’m out of the building but I just got word there’s been another murder in Golden Gate Park. I need you and DeMarco to check it out. SFPD is there right now holding the scene for you in case it’s connected to Louis Cann.”
Adrenaline immediately started pumping through Simon’s veins. Despite doing everything he was supposed to and then some, he’d hit a dead end in the Cann case. His gut clenched at the notion he might be getting another shot at solving that murder case but only at the expense of another victim. “Have they ID’d the victim?”
“Not yet. He didn’t have a wallet on him.”
“Was the victim stabbed?”
“Yes.”
“Any witnesses?”
“Not that we know of so far.”
“Any reason we should think this victim
isn’t
related to Cann?”
When Stevens responded in the affirmative and explained the details, the world around Simon seemed to still. A roar louder than the surf sounded in his ears. Horror and disbelief immediately crashed through him, and his gaze automatically sought out Nina.
She was walking toward him, a smile on her face, and he quickly averted his gaze so she wouldn’t see how freaked out how he was. He didn’t want to make her panic. Not until he had more facts. But he was acutely aware of his own feelings of panic. Of his immediate instinct to grab her and hustle her away someplace safe. Safer than SIG headquarters, even.
Coincidence.
It has to be coincidence,
he thought.
“Simon, did you hear everything I just said?” Stevens asked on the other line, snapping Simon back to the situation at hand.