Читать книгу Leave Me Breathless - HelenKay Dimon - Страница 10

The next day, Callie stepped off the elevator and rushed down the hallway leading to the private judges’ chambers. That was her deal with Mark. They would exchange the responsibility for Ben no later than seven thirty each work morning. The fact the plan worked a bit like a kid’s day care drop-off made her smile. She bet Ben loved that.

But funny or not, she vowed to arrive even earlier each day and get settled in. Since she didn’t have any real paperwork to do, getting ready for work consisted of walking through the office’s four rooms and reception area to make sure no one else was there. The only barrier between the elevator and the office was a sign at the top of the hallway that read “RESTRICTED AREA” and warned of electronic monitoring. Yeah, that would stop the bad guys. Stern written warnings always scared men who liked to blow things up.

Idiots.

She made a mental note to go a second round with Sheriff Danbury over the need for a guard station on each of the floors where the judges had offices. She knew the man would ignore her, but there was an “I told you so” moment coming and she planned to be ready for it. The truth of looming disaster gnawed at her gut.

Her shoes tapped against the marble floors as she walked past the stupid sign. There was something unsettling about knowing security guards sat in a room somewhere in the building watching her walk. Kind of made her want to do something inappropriate, but since the gossip about her new position with Ben had already started rumbling in the women’s restrooms and at the tables in the cafeteria she skipped the offensive gestures. It had been hard enough to make a salad under all those watchful eyes at lunch yesterday. No need to make people think she had an insanity issue on top of having a mysterious job.

She stopped at the far end of the hall near the emergency door to the stairwell. The locked door on the right side led to Ben’s offices. The one directly across on the left led to Emma Blanton’s space. A very convenient arrangement for their so-called friendship and for anyone who might want to take the judges out together.

Callie swept her key card through the reader and heard the door click open. On her second step, her heel hit on something that made her leg slide a few inches. She noticed the envelope with Ben’s name on it. Reaching out, she closed the door behind her.

The air in her lungs started to whirl, but she refused to panic. The man was a judge. He probably got messages under his door all the time. It could be work or personal. It didn’t mean anything. Because her stomach kept jumping around, however, she decided to ignore the rational theory and explore.

She slipped her gun out from under her arm and swept through the office, stalking around the reception area, then down to Rod’s tiny room and across the hall to Ben’s airy office. She led with her weapon, waiting for someone to jump out and attack. With her back to the wall she checked under desks and behind curtains, even pushed open the suite’s closet with the tip of her foot before peeking inside the courtroom from Ben’s private entrance. No one else was in there.

Her head said everything was fine. The dropping sensation inside her convinced her to remain wary. She returned to the reception area and grabbed a tissue off Elaine’s desk. With the mysterious envelope pinched between her fingers, she walked back to Ben’s office. Careful not to drop it or smudge any prints, she carried the paper and placed it on his desk. Studied it for anything unusual.

She grabbed for her cell phone to call Mark.

“What are you doing?” Ben’s amused voice rang through the room.

And scared the hell out of her. She almost wasted all her careful efforts by putting her hands on the envelope when she jumped. “Where’s Mark?”

“Good morning to you.”

“I’m not kidding. We need Mark.”

“I saw you in here and told him to go. He’s over in Emma’s office.” Ben dropped his briefcase on the couch and walked over to stand beside her. “Why?”

“We may have a problem.”

“And you plan to resolve it with a tissue?”

She glanced up at him. His black suit and bright blue tie highlighted his dark good looks. The joking smile on his lips gave him a younger and softer look than the one he wore while sitting on the bench listening to cases. On the job he wore his stern judge face, never unfair but not one to take any crap, either. In this office he seemed more…human. Right now he was a stalked human.

“You got a letter,” she said.

“I get mail all the time.”

“Who opens it?”

“Elaine.”

“Well, this is different.”

Ben stared at the envelope and then back at Callie. “Because?”

“It was on the floor by the door when I came in.”

“And?”

“That’s a problem.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is it possible you’re overreacting?”

No way was she agreeing to that. “It’s just as possible I’m not.”

“Hard to argue with that logic. Let me open it.” He reached for the envelope, but she pulled it out of reach by body-blocking him with her hip.

“No.”

The touch of her thigh against his stopped them both, but she shook off the shiver and focused on the problems in front of her—the paper and the knucklehead standing next to her. For some reason Ben refused to see the danger around him. She didn’t understand his blockage. Nothing in his file explained how a man who once thrived on the adrenaline rush of carrying a gun and fighting for his country could be so cavalier about his own safety. She would figure it out eventually, but not today. The job right now was to keep him alive long enough to smack some sense into him.

Callie tried reason first. “We need to have a forensics team come in here and—”

“We need to open it to make sure it’s not a regular letter from a lawyer. An admirer.”

“You get a lot of fan mail, do you?”

He shrugged. “Other people like me.”

It was the one guy who wanted Ben dead she worried about. “I find that really hard to believe.”

He exhaled. “I’m opening it.”

“We need Mark.”

Ben’s stance changed. The lazy smile disappeared and his shoulders tensed. “I’m a grown man. I can open my own mail.”

So this was a guy thing. The big bad judge didn’t want the little woman saving his ass or calling in reinforcements. Yeah, well. Tough. “This isn’t a test of your virility. Something could be in there. You could destroy evidence.”

“Then we’ll do it another way,” he said.

“What do you—” Words caught in her throat when he slid his arm between her stomach and the slim top drawer of his desk. The sleeve of his jacket brushed against her and his scent filled her senses as he leaned with his mouth so close to her breast.

Visions of being with him in a different time and place danced in her head. What he was doing was mundane. What his presence did to her deep inside could only be described as violent. She wanted to feel the hot rush of his breath against her. Shook with the need to run her fingers through his hair and watch as his head turned from the desk to her body.

She inhaled through her nose, trying to calm her breathing and pull her mind back to the job. She had to at least pretend to be professional, but her heartbeat had taken off at a full gallop. In her head, she struggled to like Ben. To ignore his stubbornness and obvious need to control everything and everyone around him.

Her body arrived at a very different conclusion about the man. He got close and she turned to pudding. Her muscles strained and her mind spun with ways to get him out of his suit.

“What was your assignment before this?” he asked in a husky tone that broke her out of the sexual fantasy spinning in her head.

“Why?”

“It made you paranoid.” He stood back up holding a letter opener. “I’ll slice the top. You can hold the paper the entire time.”

“I don’t—”

“So that you’re clear for the future, that was a statement and not a request.” He held the very edge of the envelope and cut it open. “See? No need for a recon team.”

“Uh-huh.”

His smile fell. “What’s wrong with you now?”

Other than the fact seeing the guy with a letter opener got her all hot and bothered? Nothing. “What does it say?”

She read over his shoulder. Heard a gruff rumble hit his chest right before he swore. Tensed when he tensed. The big bold letters written in blue ink didn’t say much, but they said enough: It’s Your Turn.

He slapped the desk before he backed up and paced to the window. “Son of a bitch.”

“We have to get Mark.” She started to dial but Ben folded his fingers over hers.

“No.”

“Ben, this is a direct threat against you. Maybe the bomb had Judge Blanton’s name all over it, but this person, whoever it is, is dropping a not-so-subtle warning about the next time. It could happen in a minute or next week. We don’t know, but we have to be ready.”

The idea of Ben being in that much danger sent a shot of anger spinning through her. She vowed to keep him safe. No one was going to kill him but her.

“Callie.” He stepped in close, blocking out her view of the rest of the room. His palms brushed her upper arms in a gesture so intimate she froze.

He leaned in until his body overwhelmed hers. This close she could see the mix of anger and sadness in his brown eyes. Could smell the shampoo in his still damp hair. She should have stepped back and insisted on a separation between work and play. Instead, her fingers fondled his tie.

“Don’t ask me to ignore this, Ben. I can’t do it.”

“I’m asking you to wait.” It was a whispered desperate plea.

“Trust me on this.”

This time she found the will to push away. Two more seconds with him right there and he’d be able to talk her into handing over her gun. “I’m calling Mark.”

A half hour later Callie sat next to Emma Blanton on the sofa in Ben’s office. Rod and Elaine buzzed around on the other side of the door. Both judges had canceled their morning dockets after complaining for what felt to Callie like a month. Apparently their concession meant shifting cases and otherwise screwing up the entire courthouse calendar. For some reason, both judges viewed a schedule snafu as more important than a threatening note. Or they did until Mark overruled them.

The scheduling clerks had demanded an explanation. Ben refused to offer one and hung up the phone without delivering his usual dose of charm. Callie could just imagine the e-mails shooting around the building as the courthouse’s female employees tried to figure out what was happening with Judge Cutie Pie behind closed doors.

Callie didn’t know if that’s what had Ben sitting in a chair with his arms crossed and jaw slammed shut, but something sure had ticked him off. Rather than dwell on Ben’s reaction, Callie studied Emma. The other woman looked normal enough. Not like the fire-breathing defendant hater Callie expected. Emma’s shoulder-length brown hair and bright blue eyes gave her round face a soft glow. At forty she had reached the age where people threw around words like “handsome” instead of pretty, but Judge Blanton definitely qualified as pretty. No wrinkles, and with an open warmness that only added to her attractiveness.

Callie tried very hard not to hate her.

If Ben had shown any heated interest in Emma, Callie knew she would have wrestled the other woman to the ground. Felony charges be damned. But nothing in their body language or conversation explained what the two of them meant to each other. Ben sat across from his supposed girlfriend and hadn’t said a word in more than ten minutes. Neither did Emma’s bodyguard, Keith, who stood with his back to the door and his hands folded in front of him. From the way he frowned at Emma, Callie assumed the guy didn’t like his assignment all that much.

Mark ran the meeting. Sitting in the open chair next to Ben and across from the couch, Mark went over a new set of courthouse security procedures. “Sheriff Danbury is up to speed on the threats. He’s personally checking the security tapes to see who slid the envelope under the door. He’s also running through the morning’s recordings to see if anything unusual happened at the metal detectors downstairs.”

“He’s not going to find anything.” Callie knew that as sure as she knew the size of her pants. The real size, not the one she told people.

“Probably, but it’s worth a try. In the meantime, we need to deal with something else.” Then Mark dropped the biggest bombshell. “Judge Samson wants you both to take a vacation.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ben said, finally speaking up but not sounding one ounce happier at being there.

“I agree.” Emma ran her fingers through her short hair. “We have work to do. Sitting at home worrying isn’t going to help you catch the person any faster.”

“But it could keep you alive,” Mark said.

Emma kept her focus on the bookshelves lining the wall perpendicular to her instead of looking at either of the Walker men. “I refuse to let this piece of garbage run my life.”

Ben stood up. “Are we done here?”

Again with the stubborn act. Callie had just about had enough. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ben turned to face her. The slow-motion move carried a menacing quality. “When did I give you permission to talk to me like that?”

The fury in his voice hit her like a slap. She expected frustration about the situation, but this was different. The stupid man was actually angry with her. That realization fueled all the anxiety brewing in her gut. “Probably about the same time I agreed that I needed your okay to do anything.”

“Stop.” Mark stood up and held his hands out as if he were refereeing a fight. “Let’s all calm down.”

“Just find the guy.” Ben walked over to his desk. “In the meantime, I’m going back to work.”

Callie wanted to kick him, but she stuck with the facts instead. “Your morning caseload was canceled.”

“I’ve still got plenty of paperwork to do.”

“Right.” Mark pointed to the door. “Callie, Keith, let me see you two outside.”

Ben waited until they hit the door to fire off one last verbal attack. “Aren’t you afraid someone will attack me while you’re gone for three seconds?”

Mark pursed his lips together as if he were considering the possibility. “Unless Emma plans on stabbing you, I’m thinking you’ll be fine.”

“I’m betting she’ll be tempted,” Callie said, making sure Ben could hear her on the other side of the room.

Emma smiled. “I promise Ben will be alive when you come back.”

Callie didn’t doubt that. It was the leaving them alone part that had her back teeth snapping together.

As soon as the door closed behind Mark, Ben tried to concentrate on the blank piece of paper in front of him. For the first time in forty-eight hours he could move around his chambers without tripping over Callie. He didn’t have to worry about her snide comments or her tendency to put her feet up on his desk.

The moment of quiet should have felt great, but nothing fit together right. He had wanted her to side with him about the note. When she put the job in front of him, his stomach burned. He knew his anger didn’t make any sense. She didn’t owe him anything. Still, he had counted on her loyalty, and when she failed to give it the need to lash out at her flashed through his mind.

But now he had a different female problem on his hands. One a bit more refined but equally formidable. “What?” he asked Emma.

“They’re trying to help, you know.”

He could feel his friend’s gaze boring into his forehead. After a silent minute of her staring and him ignoring, he looked up. “The situation is suffocating.”

“You’d do the same thing for Mark if the roles were reversed.”

The calm comment tamped down the fire racing through Ben. He threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “If you’re going to be logical, it’s going to be hard for me to be an irrational ass.”

Emma finally got up and walked over. With her hip resting on the corner of the desk and her hands planted on her lap, she gazed down at him with the wise-beyond-her-years look she had perfected in the tenth grade. “You sure your problem is really with the note?”

“Meaning?”

“We’ve known each other forever, Ben. I can see it. The way you grumble. The short temper. The longer than usual hours in the office.”

“You do think I’m being an ass.”

Emma smiled. “I think you’re attracted to her.”

“Who?” Oh, he knew, but stalling for time seemed like the best plan of action at the moment.

“Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about the bodyguard you stare at every second you think she’s not looking.”

Hell, a guy couldn’t even plan a move without having an audience. “Exaggerating a bit, aren’t you?”

“Not by much.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve read this all wrong. Callie is a menace. She swears like a drunken defendant and insists she runs the place. She’s been here for two days and the entire office is upside down. I haven’t had a second alone except to take a piss—” He held up his hand. “Sorry.”

“I’ve heard worse.”

“Probably from me.”

“And others, but none of that changes the facts. She pushes you.”

“Exactly.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“And you like it. You like her, even though you’re too thick to admit it.” Emma played with a pen on the edge of his desk. “Callie is different from your usual dates. She gets you riled, challenges you.”

“You somehow get attraction from that? I get frustration, anger. The desire to fire her ass.”

“You love the hunt. That’s always been a huge turn-on for you, which is why you seem so uninterested in the women in your life lately.”

Where had that come from? “Jesus, you make me sound like a predator.”

“More like a single guy who thinks he needs one type of woman but really wants another.” Emma continued to spin the pen. “You get bombarded with offers from women who are more interested in your position than about who you are. You go out and get bored and move on.”

“You’ve clearly spent some time thinking about this subject.”

“I’ve watched this dance for years. The more they fight it, the more effort you put in. It’s part of why you hate the whole playboy talk. It suggests you’ll drag anyone home. You and I both know you’re more discriminating than that.” She lined the pens back up in straight lines again. “I know the man behind the superstar judge persona.”

He pounded his fist against his chest in false bravado. “There’s just more superstar underneath.”

She reached over and took his hand. “No, there’s a sensitive guy who long ago lost the desire to chase an easy score.”

“Emma—”

“When people said things about us, you didn’t lose your temper or rush to deny. You kept your control and ignored the lies.”

“That’s different.”

Emma squeezed his hand. “Of course it is. Because there’s nothing between us.” She pressed even tighter when he tried to talk. “But there is something between you and Callie. She digs and you take the bait. It’s interesting to watch, actually.”

Ben folded his free hand over their joined ones. “Happy I could entertain you.”

After a barely audible knock, the door to his office flew open. Callie stepped in, ready to say something he was sure would annoy him. But her mouth froze in the open position. She stared at their hands on the desk before looking up at him again with red-stained cheeks.

He couldn’t believe she managed to stay quiet for a full ten seconds. “Yes?”

“Sorry. I’ll wait outside.” Callie slammed the door shut again before he could yell at her for interrupting.

“That was interesting.” Emma eased her hand out from under his and stood up. She brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt. Made quite a show of the process, as if she were trying not to look at him. Or laugh.

“You mean the part where Callie is a grown person but for some reason doesn’t know when to knock on a closed door?”

“I was too busy noticing the stunned look on her face.”

He refused to read anything into Callie’s shocked flush. She was rushing around and feeling left out. Nothing else. “She’s probably upset that I had five minutes of freedom.”

Emma cocked her head to the side. “Come on.”

“I’m serious.”

“You know women better than that.”

“She’s not a typical woman.”

“Sure seems like one.”

Subjects like Callie’s looks and exactly how he planned on undressing her once he got her alone were off limits. He shared a lot with Emma but drew the line at locker-room talk. “I admit Callie is attractive in a could-kick-my-ass sort of way.”

Emma laughed. “See, many men would not find that aspect of her too compelling. You do.”

Which only proved men were idiots. “I was kidding.”

“Sure you were.” Emma’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “You still trying to tell me there’s nothing between the two of you?”

Something pulsed there with Callie. It breathed and kicked, begging to get free, and he had no idea what the hell it was. “She’s ticked off.”

“And the funniest part is that you don’t even know why.” Emma winked at him. “But you will, and I can’t wait to be there to see you figure it out.”