Читать книгу Secrets Of An Old Flame - Jill Limber - Страница 10

Joe set his gym bag down in the foyer of Nikki’s silent house and checked the lock on the front door. Every light in the place was on.

He’d parked in the alley and waited to bring his bag in until the black-and-whites and the news vans left. He had no intention of announcing he was moving in with Raymond Walker’s daughter.

From long experience he knew cops were almost as good as reporters at spreading news, and if the brass found out about his temporary change of address there would be hell to pay. This time his shield could be gone for good.

He’d ask for vacation time starting tomorrow. He had plenty of it saved up.

Listening to the stillness, he wondered if Nikki had gone to bed. Wondered if she still slept in the dark blue nightgown with the lace that barely covered her breasts and slits up both sides, revealing her long beautiful legs.

His body punished him with a familiar ache. Knowing he wouldn’t find any relief, he tried to redirect his thoughts.

The bruise on her jaw had to hurt. Would she be able to sleep? Rage at the men who had attacked her threatened to swamp him again, and he felt the urge to put his fist through a wall.

Tamping down his frustration on all points, he checked the repairs to the French door where the creeps had broken in. A good hard kick would bring the plywood down. Her neighbor might be a well-known architect, but he wasn’t much of a carpenter. Joe would reinforce it tomorrow.

Something about the break-in bothered him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He mulled over the file on the murder of Harriet Loper he knew forward and backward as he checked another set of French doors leading out to a small garden area on the side of the house.

Who were they working for? Walker’s partner, Gerald Marks? He had no doubts that Nikki’s father, along with his partner, was involved with the disappearance of funds and the murder of Marks’s secretary. Was someone else in on the deal? Someone who felt cheated out of his share?

Someone besides the police wanted to find Walker. One of the top executives in the company could be out for revenge. Several of the vice presidents of the corporation had lost everything after Walker and his partner skipped. And then there were all the investors who had lost millions.

He checked the latch on a double-hung window in the dining room then stood staring at the privacy hedges screening the front of the huge brick house. After more than a year of investigation Joe had yet to uncover what had really happened the night Walker disappeared.

Whoever had ordered the break-in knew Nikki was back. Both he and Mac suspected the thugs had been hired. White-collar criminals rarely did their own dirty work.

And why had she come back? Why now?

Joe didn’t believe in coincidence. Rarely did things that looked like chance turn out to be random happenings.

Methodically, he checked every remaining window in the dining room and living room. A year ago Nikki had insisted her father was innocent. She’d looked at Joe with those big blue eyes full of tears and he’d forgotten his job as a cop. He’d made a huge error and had not remained neutral.

She’d had so much faith in her father. At the beginning of his investigation he’d treated Walker as a victim, even though Joe’s instincts had told him differently.

That had been his first big mistake.

His involvement with Nikki had happened with lightning speed and consumed his every waking thought. McCully had been right. If he’d been thinking with his brain instead of his dumb handle, he would have had some perspective.

Even after he’d come to the conclusion Walker had planned the whole scheme, Joe kept looking for another explanation because he didn’t want Nikki hurt. He’d held off as long as he could, but when he’d finally explained the evidence he had, she’d accused him of using her.

Damn. He hadn’t used her. He’d tried to spare her. His mistake had been not telling her his suspicions from the beginning.

If anything, he’d slowed down his investigation because of her. Then she’d disappeared. And when she disappeared, Joe’d realized he’d been thinking with his crotch.

A year later he was still thinking with his crotch. Except now things had changed. They had a child together. He ran his hands through his hair, then rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

He’d been so consumed by wanting her he’d tried to avoid losing her by not telling her the truth about her father. And the end result was he’d screwed up in the worst way.

He’d forgotten his duty as a cop.

He checked the windows in the maid’s room, then went through the utility room to the door linking the garage to the house.

The door, still smeared with fingerprint powder, was bolted, but one look through the window told him the huge four-car garage was empty.

When he’d arrived earlier Nikki’s car had not been in the alley or in front of the house. He’d expected to find her BMW in the garage.

Calling himself a fool for not going upstairs and checking on her when he’d first come in, he took the thickly carpeted steps two at a time.

She’d run from him once before, but now things were different. Now if she’d left she’d be taking his son.

He came around the corner into the hallway just as she opened her door. He heard her gasp of fear.

She stood poised in the open door, the light from her room spilling out behind her. Her face was as white as chalk, and she was clutching one of her father’s golfing trophies.

He skidded to a halt on the thick carpeting as she stumbled back a step into her bedroom. She wore only a thin white nightgown that bared her arms and most of her legs.

He knew he would find only smooth silky skin if he ran his hand up under her gown.

Angrily he jerked his attention back to the statue in her hand.

“Who did you think was coming up the stairs?” he demanded, not entirely sure he wasn’t her intended target.

Her eyes, dilated with fear, blinked rapidly and her chin quivered. “The men who broke in,” she said, her voice hitching.

Fool woman. Was she planning to take them on? He could have wrenched the weapon out of her hand with very little effort.

Joe took a deep breath and because she was so scared he tried to get past his anger and find a normal tone of voice. “Next time you hear someone coming and don’t know who it is, stay in your room with the door locked and call 911.”

He’d overreacted when he thought she’d run off again. What was new about that? He always overreacted around her.

Seeing her fear had not subsided, he softened his tone even more. “Your car isn’t in the garage.”

“What?” She blinked again, her eyes still huge in her white face. “My car?”

“Did they take it?” If the men who had broken in had taken her car they’d dump it. Even if they wiped it down, forensics might be able to lift prints from the vehicle.

She looked puzzled. “Who?”

“The men who broke in.” He shook his head at her confusion.

Her cheeks flushed. “No. My car…isn’t here.” She seemed to recover her composure.

Finally she lowered the trophy. “Were you trying to scare me, coming up the stairs like that?” she demanded, sounding more like herself.

He ignored her question, not about to tell her he had been on the edge of panic, thinking she had run from him again. “How did you get here?”

She put the trophy on top of the dresser just inside the door and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“What I do or how I do it is none of your business.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” He’d searched databases for her for a year. He wanted to know where she’d been.

She had that stubborn “I don’t have to tell you anything” look he knew so well. She crossed her arms over her stomach and gave him a pointed stare.

He knew so little about her, but he knew every square inch of her body. Her breasts were fuller. Probably from nursing the baby, he assumed.

A year ago, whenever they had been this close to each other they’d ended up naked. The smell of her, so familiar he would dream about her and wake up expecting his bedroom to hold her scent, floated in the charged air between them.

Not being able to keep his mind off their past or keep his body under control had him fuming. He took a step forward so that he backed her up against the door, a perverse part of him needing to intimidate her.

“The only thing that does matter right now is the baby. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her face pinched up in a bitter expression as she brought her arms up and pressed her body back, trying to put some space between them.

“Consider yourself a sperm donor. Nothing more.”

He stared at her, stunned, as his simmering anger came ripping back full force. A sperm donor? After what they had shared? Furious, he grabbed her hard by the upper arms and looked into her eyes, his voice harsh.

“I consider myself a whole lot more. Don’t you ever forget it.”

At her gasp he let go, chagrined he couldn’t control his thoughts or his hands.

“Sorry,” he muttered and stepped back, ashamed that he had so little restraint around her he would grab her in anger.

Nikki, chest heaving with emotion, gripped the crystal doorknob and tipped her face up to him, throwing him a “screw you” expression.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” she said, enunciating each word very carefully.

Fat chance. He couldn’t seem to dredge up the command to keep his hands off her.

Even now, when she stood there hating him, he wanted her so badly he ached with it. His gaze kept drifting to the outline of her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her gown. There were subtle differences in her body and he yearned to relearn every inch of her.

Joe took a deep breath to calm himself as they stared each other down. What he really wanted, he thought, more than any explanation of where she’d been, was to haul her into her bed and bury himself in her.

He thrust his hands in his pockets. Sperm donor, he thought with disgust. He had a son and he would be a father to his child, no matter what she considered him. The baby was his flesh and blood, and he’d be a part of his life. No way he was going to back away from his responsibilities, he thought, trying to get control of his anger.

He wanted to yell at her until she listened to him, even though he knew she wouldn’t pay attention to reason or logic. She’d proved that to him a year ago, refusing to consider the facts about her father’s disappearance.

Joe took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry.” He wasn’t even sure what all he was apologizing for, but it seemed like a good place to start. They couldn’t go on the way they were.

“You and I have a lot to work out, but nothing changes the fact that Michael is my son. And I will be a part of his life.”

“How? By taking him away from me?” Her voice broke in the middle of the question.

Her words seemed to hang in the air between them, then he noticed she was shaking all over.

He had threatened to take his son. He’d wanted her to understand the danger she was in. He hadn’t stopped to consider how intimidated she might be by his warning.

“Look, Nikki…” He reached for her, needing to apologize and offer comfort, only to have her flinch away from him. The look of fear and uncertainty on her face made him take another step back. He had been rough with her and now she was afraid of him.

He wondered if he could screw this up any worse than he already had.

He raised his hands, palms up, in a conciliatory gesture he hoped would reassure her and deliberately softened his tone. “Where is the baby?”

She didn’t answer right away, her lips pressed into a thin, trembling line as she visibly struggled for control. Finally she said, “Asleep.”

“Where is he sleeping? I need to know where you both are in order to protect you.” There was always a chance whoever had broken in could try again.

She didn’t answer at first, just stared at him with a stubborn look on her face. Her expression didn’t change as she finally answered, “He’s in a playpen on the other side of my bed.”

Ever since he’d first seen Michael he’d yearned to hold his son, feel the weight of him in his arms. That moment was going to have to wait. Nikki didn’t trust him and she was too fragile just now.

Joe ran his hand through his hair and groped for something to say to help smooth out their relationship. Nothing came to mind. He had taken a two-week course in communication and hostage negotiation and he couldn’t come up with a simple statement to open up some interaction.

He tried to shrug some of the tension out of his shoulders. “We’re both tired. We can talk about this in the morning.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he heard Nikki mutter under her breath as she turned her back on him and opened her bedroom door just far enough to slip through, closing it in his face.

The distinct snick of metal on metal told him she’d locked the door.

He let her comment pass. He wasn’t about to get into another discussion that would get them nowhere.

He spoke to her through the heavy wooden panel. “I’ll be downstairs. Make sure your balcony door is locked. Call me if you need me.”

He got no response from the bedroom.

Considering how she felt about him, he’d be lucky if she let him know if the house caught fire. She’d probably take the baby and run without waking him.

Joe made the rounds and checked all the windows upstairs as well as the French doors leading to the balconies off each bedroom. He found bedding in the main linen closet in the hallway. Then, restless and uneasy, he went downstairs and checked all the doors and windows a second time.

Finally he threw his blanket and pillow on a couch in the TV room off the kitchen. He figured the most vulnerable part of the house to be the windows and doors facing the alley, so he picked a room on the ground floor at the back of the house to bed down. He unstrapped his holster and placed his revolver on the coffee table within easy reach.

He tried to get comfortable on the too short couch and listened to the night sounds—the occasional car, the rustle of the trees, the bark of a dog. Civilized sounds of a very upscale neighborhood settling in for the night.

He dozed and awoke to a baby’s cry, and the wonder struck him again.

He had a son. A baby boy he’d yet to hold in his arms.

Nikki awoke when Michael stirred in his playpen. Even though she ached all over from the roughing up she’d taken yesterday by the two men who’d broken in, she’d gotten some sleep. She didn’t want to admit it was because of Joe’s reassuring presence in her house.

Her hands got clammy whenever she thought about what had happened last night. She’d never experienced that kind of terror before. One man had held her arms so tightly behind her back she thought he might wrench them out of their sockets. Her shoulders still ached.

Early morning sunlight slanted through the blinds at her window. She rolled onto her back as she watched the glow brighten the pale silk wall covering. Here in the bed she’d grown up in, the silent early morning seemed so normal, but she knew it was anything but.

Joe was somewhere in the house.

As far as she knew, the police hadn’t caught the men who had broken in and threatened her. They could return any time.

As bad as the break-in had been, she doubted it would be the hardest thing she would face while she was here.

Convincing the court to release her trust fund would be beyond difficult. Her father had tied it to the company for tax purposes. She had no evidence to prove her father had not been behind the theft from his now bankrupt company, or an accomplice to the murder of his partner’s secretary. She knew in her heart that he never would commit those crimes, but how could she persuade a court of that?

The fact that all her money was tied up in her father’s company was one of the things that convinced her that he was innocent. He never would have run off without a word and left her destitute. Her father loved her.

Nikki pushed the covers back and sat up, shivering in the cold room. Her appointment with her father’s attorney was hours away, but she’d have to take the bus downtown so she needed to get moving.

She tore her thoughts away from the unpleasantness and turned her stiff body with a groan to watch her son as he wiggled and squirmed his way to wakefulness.

He was a lot like her. His stomach told him to wake up before he was ready to face the day. She smiled as she watched him stretch and yawn, his eyes still firmly closed.

Nikki loved Michael beyond comprehension. His well-being would always be her first consideration.

She’d made a major mistake having a relationship with Joe, but the fact he was Michael’s father couldn’t be changed. It had been her mistake, and her son didn’t need to suffer for it. Michael would need a man in his life as he got older.

Could she survive being around Joe? Too much history existed between them, too many memories that refused to fade. Their relationship hadn’t lasted long, but had been intense enough to burn indelible pictures into her brain.

Without a thought, she’d screamed for him when the break-in occurred. She’d wanted to fly into his arms when he’d shown up. If she let her guard down he’d be back in her bed. All he had to do was look at her and her body tingled in all the places he used to touch with such skill.

Her mother used to tell her life wouldn’t give her more than she could handle. But her mother hadn’t lived long enough to meet Joe.

Michael opened his eyes and gave her a big toothless smile that never failed to warm her heart. Still sitting on the edge of the mattress, she leaned over the playpen tucked between her bed and the wall. “Hi there, sweetheart. Did you have a good sleep?”

He gurgled and tried to roll over, a maneuver he hadn’t quite mastered. Nikki picked him up and gave him a hug, nuzzling into his soft neck.

She scooted back onto the bed and lay him on the mattress beside her. Leaning over him, she said, “You know what? You don’t smell so fresh. Let’s get you cleaned up before you eat.”

She heard a click and looked over her shoulder.

“Good morning.” Joe stood in her open doorway.

A door she’d locked last night. The small feeling of security and seclusion the door afforded evaporated. She had come home hoping for sanctuary. Instead she was living with an enemy who lacked scruples when it came to her privacy.

He was freshly shaved and dressed, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, his hair still wet from the shower. Aside from the holster strapped to his left shoulder, he looked good enough to eat.

She swallowed hard at the thought, remembering how he would taste and smell if she buried her nose in the spot just under his ear.

She tried to convince herself that the ripples of lust rolling through her body were caused by nothing more than an over-abundance of postnatal hormones. That had to be the reason, given the fact that she hated the man.

“What do you want?” she snapped, her voice harsh. The unwelcome memories that assailed her made her furious. How could he bring her treacherous body alive by just standing in her bedroom doorway?

His bland expression didn’t change. “I’ll be gone for about two hours. Stay in, keep the cordless phone with you, and call 911 if you hear any noises you don’t recognize. I’ve got a black-and-white unit patrolling the block.”

At least there would be police in the neighborhood. Her cordless phone was useless. Her vulnerability to both Joe and the assailants made her angry.

“Get out.” She turned back to the baby, who was studying his hand as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

As soon as he left, she was leaving herself. She had an appointment with the attorney.

“I’m concerned about my son’s safety.” His tone was cold. “Stop acting like a spoiled child.”

My son. He sounded so possessive it frightened her. What if he did try to take Michael away from her? “I want you to get out.”

“I don’t care what you want.” He cut her off. “Michael’s safety is my only interest here.”

His only interest. Nikki felt an irrational sting of emotion that she wasn’t included in his concern, then chided herself for even noticing. She took a deep breath. “I don’t—”

Rudely Joe raised his hand and cut her off again, infuriating her.

They stared at each other for several heartbeats before Joe spoke. “You didn’t answer my question last night. Who knew you were coming back?”

She hesitated for a long moment before she spoke. Lord, she wanted to ignore him, but she knew he wouldn’t go away until he got the answers he wanted. The man had the tenacity of a pit bull.

“My father’s attorney. He contacted a federal judge to obtain permission from the court so I could stay here. I don’t know which judge.”

“Why did you come back?” he asked, his accusing tone making her feel like one of his suspects.

She refused to tell him anything about her personal life. He didn’t need to know how very vulnerable she was right now.

“To tie up some loose ends.” Michael squirmed and stuck out his lower lip, then began to suck on his fist. She knew the signs of hunger. He’d be wailing in a minute.

“What loose ends?” He stared at her intently.

“What I do is none of your business,” she spit back at him. He reminded her of a predator looking for signs of weakness.

He opened his mouth to ask another question and Nikki put her hands up, signaling an end to their conversation. “I need to change the baby’s diaper and feed him. I thought you said you were leaving.”

He shrugged into his jacket. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep the doors locked.” He said, ignoring her demand that he not return.

Why did he want her to lock the doors, she thought sourly. Locks didn’t keep the housebreakers out last night or Joe out this morning. She reasoned she was safer leaving for her appointment than she was staying home.

Agreeing to nothing, she said, “Close the door.”

She turned her back on him and busied herself unzipping the baby’s sleeper.

Behind her the door closed and she fought down the irrational urge to throw something at it. Damn the man. He could bring out the worst in her without even breaking a sweat.

After changing and nursing her son, she put the sleepy baby back to bed. He’d nap for at least an hour, giving her a chance to get ready.

Nikki took a shower and dressed for the day in a blue silk business suit two years out of date. It was the best she could do. Her wardrobe was the last thing she could afford to spend money on now.

She gave herself a critical once-over in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. The skirt length was wrong, but the fabric was quality and the lines classic, even though the skirt hung loosely and the jacket fit too tightly over her fuller breasts.

She knew the value of a professional appearance. She had too much pride to go to her father’s attorney, Fielder Carey, looking desperate. She could only hope he would agree to help her without asking for a retainer.

The Walker family’s credit rating had slipped so far she had her doubts he would agree to delayed payment.

For good measure she damned Joe again for further complicating her life as she headed down the stairs. Even without him she already had as much on her plate as she could handle.

Needing coffee and something to eat, Nikki went through the dining room and butler’s pantry into the kitchen.

Joe had left her a fresh pot of coffee. The sight of the full carafe brought back bittersweet memories of a year ago. Of coming downstairs when Joe had spent the night to find fresh coffee, a note, and sometimes a flower from the garden.

Usually he’d left for work before she’d awakened. He knew how she struggled to wake up in the mornings and always made sure he left coffee waiting.

His thoughtfulness about little things had drawn her to him. She’d been so needy, feeling frightened, deserted and unloved at her father’s disappearance. She’d clung to him like a fool, too desperate to see he was using her to get to her father.

In those few weeks she’d thought she’d fallen in love with him. Emotions threatened to swamp her, and she reached to turn on the television and drown them out.

The audio came on first with a description of a home invasion robbery. Legs shaking, she slid onto a stool at the counter. As the screen resolved into a clear picture of her home, she put her head down on the counter and tried not to cry, longing for the anonymity of the small town in Canada where she’d lived with her aunt and awaited Michael’s birth.

Nikki lifted her head and stared at the perky bright-eyed newswoman intent on bringing everyone up to date on current events, as well as handing out reminders of last year’s scandal.

It was like having someone tear the scab off a half-healed wound.

The nightmare was never going to go away. Naively she’d hoped the media would consider the break-in last night too trivial to air, and the murder, the missing M. Raymond Walker and his millions old news, not worth a mention.

So much for quietly returning home. This latest incident would only make it harder to convince the court she knew nothing about her father’s disappearance.

Nikki laid her head back down on the counter, fighting the urge to go back upstairs, crawl into bed and pull the covers up over her head.