Читать книгу Nightfire - Barbara McCauley - Страница 9

It was incredible how much one’s life could change in a matter of a few minutes.

Allison stared at Kane’s broad back, amazed at how smoothly he’d managed to maneuver her into the back corner of the crowded elevator and place himself between her and the rest of the people. The two men outside her father’s office had also squeezed into the elevator, and they stood by the doors like guards at a palace gate.

She knew she should feel comforted by all the brawn surrounding her, but what she felt was smothered. She’d been on her own since she was eighteen—the year her mother had died—and she was used to coming and going as she liked, without an escort and certainly without asking permission. Having all these watchdogs around was going to take some getting used to. And in the case of Thomas Kane, she thought irritably, the adjustment was going to be a big one.

She stared at the wide stretch of shoulders blocking her view and cursed the warmth curling downward from her stomach. It was bad enough, this feeling of being on a leash, but the edge that Kane put her on was what disturbed her most of all. What was it about him, anyway? She’d certainly never been attracted to this type of man before. But then, she’d never met a man like Kane before. And the few men she had dated had been…what? Ordinary, was the word that came to mind. She frowned at the thought. What was wrong with ordinary? Absolutely nothing. They’d been nice, interesting men.

And they’d left her feeling tepid as tap water.

What made Kane so different? She casually lifted her chin and slid a glance at him, determined to find fault. He was too tall, she decided. Good Lord, he towered over her. She hated having to crane her neck to meet someone’s eye. And he wasn’t exactly handsome, at least, not in the classical sense, though there were certainly women who were attracted to his kind of rugged masculinity. The men she’d always been drawn to had been good-looking, the type of face you’d see in a men’s fashion magazine. She stared at Kane’s profile, thinking he looked more like an advertisement for a military-commando movie. It was easy to picture this man slashing his way through a steamy jungle, sweat dripping from his half-naked body….

Stop that. She jerked away her gaze and stared at the empty space over the head of the man standing beside Kane. What in the world was she doing, dreaming up silly fantasies about a man she’d met only minutes before? Didn’t she have more important and certainly more serious things to think about? Things like some crazy following her, watching her, taking pictures…

The elevator stopped at the next floor, letting one person off and two more on. The bustling forced Kane’s body flush with hers. Embarrassment burned up her neck and over her cheeks as her breasts pressed into the solid muscle of his back. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart beat low and hard. Instinct had her raising her hands to force some distance between them, but logic had her drop them away again. Something very basic told her that to touch this man was a dangerous thing to do. And most annoying of all, she observed, was that Kane appeared completely oblivious to the intimate contact of their bodies. He seemed much more interested in the control panel over the elevator doors.

By the time the elevator finally reached the lobby, Allison wasn’t sure her legs were sturdy enough to carry her out. She was almost thankful when Kane turned to her and took her by the arm.

“I’ll need your keys.”

“My keys?”

“Keys,” he repeated, leading her across the lobby. “You know, what you use to open doors and start cars.”

Frowning, she dug through her purse and pulled them out. “What do you—”

“Thanks.” He took them from her as they walked outside. It had stopped raining and slivers of blue sky rimmed the once ominous clouds. When they reached her minivan, Kane opened the passenger door and held it for her. Fuming, she got into the car, noticing the almost imperceptible nod that Kane gave the two security men who were getting into a white sedan three parking spaces away.

“I am capable of driving my own car,” she stated when he slid into the seat beside her and started the engine.

“Under normal circumstances, I’m sure that’s true.” He checked the side and rearview mirrors, then eased the van into traffic. “But what would you do if someone pulled up beside you, pointed a gun at you and told you to pull over?”

The idea of anyone pointing a gun at her made her stomach tighten. “I—I don’t know. How can anyone know what they’d do in a crisis?”

“You damn well better know.” He made a sudden U-turn in the middle of the street and headed west toward her apartment. “Your life may depend on it.”

She was still gripping the armrests from his unexpected turn. “Okay.” She thought for a moment. “I’d step on the accelerator.”

“Wrong. You slam on the brakes.”

“What?”

“First lesson, Allison. Listen carefully.” His eyes narrowed with intensity as he glanced at her. “Be aggressive, hit fast, hit hard, then get the hell out.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re actually serious. For God sake’s, Kane, we’re not talking about a military operation here.”

“And we’re not talking about the fairy kingdom of never-never land either, princess.”

Gritting her teeth, she bit back the first response that came into her mind and went with the second. “Don’t call me ‘princess.”’

“Stop acting like one.” Kane checked his rearview mirror again, satisfied that the sedan was still behind him. “You need to understand a few things. I don’t own a pair of kid gloves and I’m not here to hold your hand.”

Hold her hand. Allison wound her fingers so tightly around the armrests that the fabric creaked. “I think you better understand a few things yourself, Mr. Kane. I don’t need or want you to hold my hand. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

He slanted her a look and smiled. “Hold on to that thought. Lessons begin bright and early.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, nor did she care to ask. Kane pulled up in front of her apartment a few minutes later and after she packed a bag and watered her house plants, they were back on the road again, crossing the bridge over the sound, heading toward Fox Island. They’d be at her father’s house in about ten minutes and all she could think about was getting out of her heels, into a soft, comfortable pair of flats and her favorite sweatshirt.

To say that it had been a long day was putting it somewhat mildly.

“Oh, and one other thing,” Kane said suddenly, breaking the long silence. “I’ll need a list of men you’ve dated and/ or slept with.”

She hadn’t heard him right. She couldn’t have. He’d asked her for a list of lovers as casually as if he’d been asking her the time of day. She turned slowly in her seat and simply stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll need a list of men you’ve—”

“Don’t you dare say it again.” Her jaw was clenched so tight she could barely speak. “Don’t even think it. Whom I’ve dated, or as you so eloquently put it, ‘slept with,’ is nobody’s business but mine.”

She decided it was a good thing after all that Kane was driving. If she’d been behind the wheel right now she probably would have driven off the bridge.

“It’s not uncommon for the victim to have known their abductor beforehand,” Kane said. “Quite often, intimately.”

Allison settled back in her seat. “I guarantee that whoever this creep is, it’s no one I know or who knows me. Sorry, Kane, but I suggest you find a more willing subject if you’re looking for kicks, and while you’re at it, you could certainly use a more creative approach.”

He smiled then, a slow, confident smile that made Allison’s insides churn. “Princess, let me tell you something—When I ‘get my kicks’ as you say, I’m very creative, and the lady is always willing.”

She didn’t doubt for a second what he said was true. She’d already had a firsthand experience with the man’s appeal. Because she didn’t want him to see her cheeks turn red, she turned away and stared out the window. All she could manage to say was, “Don’t call me ‘princess.”’

This was not going to be easy.

Kane stood at the southwest edge of the cliffs behind the Westcott estate and scanned an experienced eye over the luxuriant grounds. Inside a five-foot brick wall surrounding the property, flowering trees and perfectly manicured shrubs nearly engulfed the two-story Spanish-style house. The greenery was aesthetically pleasing, but a virtual haven for uninvited guests, he thought with more than a twinge of annoyance.

And the house had more windows than Seattle had rain.

One specific window on the second story—the bedroom Allison slept in—drew his attention, and he mentally calculated his position. Based on the angle of the shot, Kane was sure this was the spot where their “shutterbug” had been standing when he’d taken his picture. The rocks here were big enough to easily hide behind and access from the beach below was an easy climb. The spot was so remote that it was doubtful any neighbor would have spotted him, and even if Allison had seen him, she was so naive she probably would have just waved at the guy. Hell, she probably would have invited him in for lunch.

He could still see the look on her face when she’d stared at the photograph of herself in her underwear. Her skin had paled against her dark hair and her fingers had felt like slivers of ice when he’d taken the picture out of her hands. He knew she was scared to death, he’d seen the fear in her wide eyes. Yet still she refused to spend the next few days here, inside, where she would be safer, out of danger.

Why, dammit? He shook his head irritably. What difference could it possibly make if she skipped a few days at the center and postponed the kids’ show? So maybe the kids would be disappointed. Disappointment never killed a kid. If it did, he’d have been dead by the ripe old age of seven.

He turned sharply at the shriek of a sea gull overhead and watched the bird as it swooped low over the water. For some strange reason, the smooth motion of the creature made him think of Allison. She moved with that same powerful and elegant grace. And even though he knew that she’d studied ballet, hers was a grace that no amount of dance lessons could ever teach. It was completely natural, utterly feminine and disturbingly sensual.

He could still feel the soft pressure of her breasts on his back when they’d stood in the elevator this morning. The heat of her body had burned straight through his clothes and scorched his skin. Thirty seconds more with her pressed against him like that and he would have broken out in a sweat. He was going to have to be careful to keep his distance from her, he resolved. A woman like Allison could easily mess up a man’s thinking, make him lose control. And control was something Kane had no intention of relinquishing.

He thought of the file he’d read on the plane this morning. Allison’s file. She’d graduated from the dance academy six years ago, and the rest of her life had been as easy to read as a children’s book, complete with pictures. Her career as a dancer had been notable, but her offstage life seemed to be virtually nonexistent. Though there’d been an occasional boyfriend mentioned in an entertainment magazine here and there, as far as he could see she’d had no serious affairs or rejected lovers.

He couldn’t help the smile as he recalled the look of indignation on her face when he’d asked her about her personal life. He’d had to ask, that was his job, but any interest he might have in Allison’s love life was purely professional. Unless one of those men was tied to the case, they had no relevance at all. They were simply nameless and faceless lovers who had no bearing on the current situation.

So why, then, was he trying to put a face to one of those men, wondering if he’d been another dancer she’d worked with, or maybe one of the dozens of admirers she must have had? What difference could it possibly make?

It didn’t, he told himself. He was just getting restless. He’d worked nonstop for the last twelve months. There’d been little time for women, or any form of recreation, for that matter. As soon as this case was finished, he intended to find himself a long-legged blonde, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a quiet shack on an isolated beach in Bermuda.

He could see the ocean waves now, feel the warm breeze, a woman’s long, slender legs wrapped around his bare body, her dark hair shining as it billowed out across the hot sand.

Dark hair? What happened to his blonde?

Damn. He rubbed a hand over his face. He needed this vacation sooner than he’d thought. In the meantime, he resolved, he’d better keep his mind on what Oliver Westcott was paying him to do, which was to keep his daughter safe. Kane was comfortable with the competence of the men that had accompanied Oliver to Los Angeles and also with the three men who had been assigned to stay at the house on twenty-four-hour watch. Two of the men were to watch the outside perimeter and a third man was to tail Allison while she was en route from work and home. That was the trickiest part, keeping tabs on her once she left the estate.

He turned back to the house and stared at Allison’s bedroom window again. His frown deepened. Why couldn’t the woman understand she’d be better off here, in the safety of her own house? Any other woman would have run home and bolted the doors. Lord knew it certainly would have made his life a hell of a lot easier.

But then—Kane let out a long breath of exasperation—Allison Westcott was obviously not just any other woman. And she certainly was not going to make his life easier.

She came out of the house then and moved up the stone walkway toward him, with the ease of a woman who was comfortable with her surroundings. He watched as she approached, noting that she’d changed into a long oversize sweatshirt that matched the color of the pink azaleas along the path. Her pants—or whatever the modern fashion hounds called them—looked more like black tights than anything else, and while she certainly hadn’t dressed to impress him, she looked so damn sexy that a jolt of desire shot through him before he had time to think.

He hoped like hell this job would be over soon.

“Thought you might like a cup of coffee.” She stopped two feet away and handed him a steaming mug. “I hope black is all right.”

Nodding gratefully, he accepted the cup, annoyed with himself that he’d intentionally avoided touching her hand. He watched as she combed her fingers through her hair, then folded her arms tightly in front of her. A nervous gesture. She moved to the edge of the cliff and stared silently at the approaching sunset.

“I noticed you were working with the alarm system this afternoon,” she said finally, but did not turn to look at him.

“Just checking it out.”

As she turned back to him, the ocean breeze tugged at the wild mass of curls around her face. He watched in fascination as her hand swept the hair away from her cheek.

“And?”

He’d never been one to soften the truth before, and he didn’t intend to start now. “Before I ordered a few adjustments, I doubt it would have kept out the Avon lady.”

She winced, then recovered quickly. “And now?”

He shrugged. “Now we probably only have to worry about insurance salesmen.”

So the man does have a sense of humor, Allison thought with mild surprise. She felt the tightness in her shoulders ease, as she realized that if anyone did try to break in, they not only had to get through the two men stationed outside and Kane’s updated alarm system, but they had to get through Kane himself. Something told her that was not an easy thing to do. “So what happens now?”

He wished she would stop chewing on her bottom lip. Though he knew she didn’t intend the gesture to be provocative, that didn’t make it any less so. He took a sip of his coffee, glad that it was as hot as it was strong. “Ideally, we find the guy before he makes a move.”

“And if we don’t find him?”

The waves lapped on the beach below and the distant sound of a speedboat hummed in the moist salt air. Kane was well aware of the fact that an approach to the Westcott estate from the water was a strong possibility. He watched the boat until it looped away. “Either way, we’re ready for him.”

She hugged her arms tightly around her. “We moved into this house when I was ten. I played on the beach all day and at night, as well. I never once felt there was any danger.” She sighed and stared back at the house. “It’s so strange, not feeling safe here, not knowing whom to trust.”

“That’s the easy part.” His eyes narrowed as he lifted his cup to his mouth again. “Don’t trust anyone.”

“What about you, Kane?” She glanced back at him. “Am I supposed to trust you?”

His jaw tightened. “I’m here to do a job. That you can depend on. Nothing more, nothing less.”

She sent him an exasperated look. “Has anyone ever told you it’s not healthy to go around suspecting everyone?”

“It’s not healthy to be dead, either.”

Allison felt the impact of Kane’s words like a punch in the stomach. He never let up, not even for a second, and she wondered if some sadistic part of him enjoyed keeping her on the edge. “Thanks for the reassurance. I’m sure that little bit of advice will help me sleep much better tonight.”

She started to walk away then, but he caught her by the wrist.

“Allison.”

She wasn’t sure what surprised her more, the gentle touch of his hand or the uncharacteristic softness in his voice. She stared at his fingers wrapped around her wrist, then lifted her eyes to his. For a brief second, a flash of something—tenderness?—was there in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly she might have imagined it.

“I’m not here so you can sleep better at night,” he said quietly. “You can’t let your guard down, not even for a minute. My job is to keep whoever this guy is out there from getting close to you. Your job is to be ready and prepared for anything. You’ll get no kind words from me, no assurances, because there are none. That’s how I operate and that’s why your father hired me.”

She was beginning to understand more clearly why her father had hired Kane. The two men were very much alike. As subtle as a steamroller and as tenacious as an angry bull. Results were what mattered, not merit badges in charm. She may not like it, but she did respect it.

As he let go of her arm she realized that he’d come about as close to an apology or explanation as she’d ever get from him. Though unspoken, a truce settled between them. “Dinner’s in the oven, but it won’t be ready for about forty-five minutes.”

Kane remembered that he’d already spoken to the gardener and the pool man, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of the housekeeper and cook that Oliver employed full-time. “I’ll need a few minutes of your housekeeper’s time after dinner. I need to ask her a few questions.”

“That might be a little difficult,” Allison said, feeling a twinge of satisfaction that there were a few things Mr. Thomas Kane didn’t know. “Her granddaughter just had a baby yesterday. She left this morning to stay with her for a month.”

Confused, Kane glanced toward the house. “Who’s cooking?”

Good Lord, did the man think she was entirely helpless? She tapped down the annoyance rising in her. “I’ve learned to throw one or two simple meals together.”

“I don’t expect you to cook for me.” Actually, he hadn’t expected her to cook at all. The fact that she did surprised him.

Something told her that Kane never expected anything from anybody. If a person didn’t expect anything, then he didn’t have to give anything. “There’s plenty,” she said flatly. “I’ve already asked the other men to join us.”

Kane resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Next thing he knew, they’d be having a picnic. “I’ll take a plate out to them,” he said dryly. “These men are here to work, not attend dinner parties.”

“Oh, darn.” She gestured dramatically and sarcasm dripped off her words. “Now whoever will I wear my gown and jewels for tonight?”

He could see diamonds on her. Diamonds and emeralds and black velvet. “You’ll be wearing them for our picture-taking friend, if you don’t let us do our job.”

Kane’s words cooled Allison’s ire and sharply reminded her of the situation. The idea of someone actually coming into her home while she was sleeping or taking a shower made her skin crawl. Having worked with the children at the center, she’d always thought she had a strong understanding of the darker side of life. But the truth was, she’d never been a victim herself. No one had ever threatened to hurt her; no one had ever followed her or watched her.

Or taken her picture while she was getting dressed.

Maybe Kane was right. Maybe she had been living in never-never land. Maybe ‘princess’ wasn’t so far off, after all.

“I’ve got to go check on my frozen dinners,” she said with just enough bite to lift her spirits a notch. “Those aluminum containers are awful to clean when you burn the macaroni and cheese.”

Kane watched her walk away and wondered why he felt as if he’d just kicked a puppy. So what if she was mad at him? That was his intention. Anger kept people on their toes. And Allison needed to be alert. He had to remind her there were bad guys out there, no matter how angry it made her; no matter how much it upset her. It was for her own good, dammit.

He almost smiled as she disappeared into the house, realizing that however angry she might happen to be at him now, it was nothing compared to what she’d be feeling after she found out what he had planned for the morning.