THE PROSECUTOR (6 page)

He watched her for a few seconds, his eyes intense and unwavering and all that determined male attention made her legs a little wobbly. She needed a man. Preferably one like Zac Hennings.

Soon.

Finally, he broke away. “I hope you find that happy ending. Your mother and brother are lucky to have you.”

Down deep, she knew that. Sure, there were times she admitted to herself, she’d like to run away, just disappear somewhere, hit the
RESET
button and start over, but she didn’t have it in her to walk away. She loved her family too much.

But suddenly, the small space of silence between her and Zac filled with crackling energy and Emma’s pulse jackhammered. She couldn’t take it anymore. All this thinking about naked, hot prosecutors and running away and freedom, it was almost too much. A prize dangling just out of reach.

“I...um.” She shook her head.
Don’t know
.

Zac looked away.
Thank you.
He turned to the small side table and scooped up a set of keys. “Let’s hunt down our rogue detective.”

Chapter Five

After calling and confirming Detective Leeks was working, Zac left Emma in the car and climbed the few stairs leading to Area 2 headquarters. The short walk gave him a minute to clear his traitorous mind because, seriously, how many times would he have to shut down thoughts of Emma under him and moaning. He had no business wanting that. Not when a botched murder investigation was involved.

Once inside the building, he identified himself and told—no asking—the desk sergeant he wanted to see Detective Leeks.

Five minutes later, he was directed down a long hallway and told to take the last doorway on the left. That last doorway, not surprisingly, was an
interview
room. These dopes thought they’d play him by letting him stew in an interrogation room. This stunt only added fuel to his already raging fire.

He yanked out a chair, settled into it, threw his shoulders back and took a breath.
He
would control this conversation. Not Leeks.

Ten minutes they made him wait. With each ticking second, Zac got more steamed, all that negative energy spewing in his mind. Contain it. That’s what he’d do. Contain it and channel it. He’d been raised by a master strategist. He’d carve Leeks to pieces before he let this chump play mind games with him.

Finally, Leeks stepped into the room. The guy was a good four inches shorter than Zac, so Zac made sure to stand and greet him. Let the shorter man get a feel for looking up at him.

Leeks stared at him with dark, vacant eyes. Nothing there. No life. No anger. Nothing. After a brief stare-down, he must have come to the realization that intimidation tactics were useless.
No dice, pal.

Leeks pursed his lips and made a smacking sound before dragging out the chair opposite Zac’s.

Zac waited for him to sit, hesitated a few extra seconds, then reclaimed his chair. The detective smirked. Yeah, he knew the alpha war game of standing over someone as long as possible. At least they understood each other.

Leeks pushed up the sleeves on his sweater. Most detectives wore sport coats and dress slacks. Maybe during the week Leeks did, too. Today he wore jeans and an expensive-looking sweater.

Zac sat forward. “I’ll make this quick, detective. I’m the prosecutor handling the Sinclair case. My guess is you know that already.”

“Affirmative.”

“Good. Let me also inform you that you are to stay away from anyone involved in this case.
Anyone
. Do you understand?”

Leeks shrugged.

“I’ll take that as a yes because the next time you threaten Emma Sinclair, I’ll dig up enough dirt on you that your superiors will have no choice but to relieve you of your badge.”

Leeks finally sat forward, all tough-guy shrugs and grimaces. “Listen, Ivy League, I didn’t threaten Emma Sinclair.”

Excellent
. Precisely what Zac wanted to hear. He slapped Emma’s note on the table. “You didn’t say this?”

Leeks eyeballed him then picked up the paper. After reading it, he tossed it back and it floated in midair for a moment, crackling in the silence.

Leaning in, Zac mirrored the detective’s body language. “You expect me to believe Emma Sinclair lied when she said you walked up to her home in the middle of the night and told her troublemakers in this city get dealt with. You didn’t say that?”

“Hey, Ivy League—”

“Hey,
detective,
I’m not interested in having a conversation. I’m
telling
you what you need to do. Am I clear?”

Leeks slouched back—almost retreating, but then defiantly folding his arms across his chest. The guy’s body language was all over the place.

“Yeah. You’re clear. Crystal. But you better find a way to keep this guy in lockup. He murdered a young woman and his cute, defenseless sister is getting this city all churned up. Do your job, counselor.”

As if he’d let this scumbag lecture him. “After the garbage you’ve pulled, you think I’ll let you sit there and tell me how to do my job? Screw off, detective. Last I checked, my conviction rate was rock-solid. As long as I don’t have overanxious cops mucking it up, we’ll have a murderer behind bars.” Zac stood and headed for the door. “By the way, I went to Loyola. And make sure your son is available to me.”

Leeks shot out of his chair, sending the legs scraping across the cheap linoleum. “
What?
”

That extra four inches Zac had on Leeks played nicely here. It was tough to get large with someone taller and carrying an extra thirty pounds.

“You heard me. Have your son call me. I have questions about his relationship with Chelsea Moore. The sooner those questions are answered, the sooner this case goes away. I’m extending you a courtesy here. If you and your son choose not to take advantage of that courtesy, I’ll subpoena him. Your choice, detective, but either way, your son will talk to me.”

* * *

E
MMA
SAT
IN
Z
AC
’
S
sleek BMW, one just like Penny’s—and how cute was that?—thinking he should be coming back any second. As curious as she was about his meeting, boredom had set in more than ten minutes ago. How long did it take to go in there, tell this loser detective to back off and come back?

Her cell phone rang.
Thank you
. Penny. “Hi.”

“Hi. How’d it go with Zac?”

“Not sure yet. He’s in talking with the detective now.”

“OMG,” Penny squealed. “I love my brother. He’s so darn predictable. He’s probably tearing that guy apart as we speak. Listen, Emma. Good trial lawyers know their opponent’s weaknesses and use them. It doesn’t hurt that our opponent happens to be my brother and he has a streak of honor in him a mile long.”

“You manipulated him?”

“So harsh! I utilized my knowledge of his personality. Guaranteed he’ll come out of that meeting and say he’s subpoenaing Leeks’s kid.”

“Well, we should know shortly. I’m waiting in the car. I think it’s cute that you two have the same car.”

“His is two years older than mine. Our parents gave each of us one when we graduated from law school. Our older brother totaled his a year in. Those cars are the only ones they bought us. We had to pay for our first cars on our own. It was a good lesson in managing money.”

Emma glanced up and spotted Zac jogging down the few steps in front of police headquarters, his long legs moving fast. “Here comes Zac. Want to hang on until he gets here?”

“You bet.”

He swung into the car and Emma put the call on speaker. “I have Penny on the phone.”

“Hey,” he said. “Did you spring your guy?”

“I did. He got picked up on a drunk and disorderly. How did you do with Leeks?”

“I’ve alerted him that he should steer clear of my case. He’s also bringing his son to me for questioning.”

Emma’s heart lurched. “You’re kidding?”

Zac started the car, checked oncoming traffic and entered the fray known as the Saturday-morning rush. “I want to talk to that kid.”

“And he’s just bringing him to you?” This from Penny who obviously didn’t believe it.

“I’m good, Pen, but I’m not that good. I gave him the choice to either bring the kid to me or I subpoena him. Let’s see what they decide.”

“You’re a good man, Zachary.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t think I know you played me? Pen, you’ve been doing this to me since you were twelve. I know you as well as you know me. In this instance, it works in both our favors, but I still can’t figure out why I let you get away with this nonsense.”

“It’s because of my powers of persuasion, big brother.” Zac waved his hand, but his grin stretched a mile. “Pick me up at four for dinner with the ’rents. And whatever you do, don’t try to sleep with my client.”

Emma made a gagging sound and Zac rolled his eyes. “Nice, Pen. Nice.”

“Going on record that I’ve advised you both. I’m not blind and I’m certainly not stupid.”

Zac made yapping gestures with his free hand. “Goodbye, Pen.”

Emma clicked off and dropped the phone in her lap. “Well, that was...awkward.”

“Nah. She’s just being Penny. You may have noticed that she likes to stir things up.”

“I noticed.”

“She’s unbelievable. Sometimes I think she’ll give me a stroke, but she’s funny as hell. That’s the problem with the men in our family. We’ve spent her lifetime letting her get away with things we shouldn’t let her get away with because she entertains us.”

“You’ve created a monster.”

“We have indeed,” Zac said.

He stopped at a red light and turned to her, his blue eyes twinkling too much for Emma’s comfort. Maybe Penny was onto something with that warning.

Plus, all that sibling banter had opened up the emotional sinkhole inside of Emma. Once upon a time, she and Brian had ribbed each other in much the same way. Now? Kind of hard to do with a glass wall between them and thinking about it pressed in on her.
No sadness
. Not now when they were making progress.

Soon things would change. She felt it. Finally, someone would question the victim’s boyfriend. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For pursuing the boyfriend. No one has done that for us.”

He stopped at the traffic light on the corner, let out a breath and turned to her. “No problem. Thank you as well. If it weren’t for you, the guy would be off the grid. Now, at least, we get to hear what he has to say.”

“Yes, we do.”

Their gazes locked again and the same crackling silence from earlier returned, making Emma long for something, anything that would offer a distraction.

A car horn blared—distraction granted—and Zac checked the stoplight. Green. “I’m hungry,” he said. “You hungry? We can grab a bite.”

She shouldn’t do it. He
was
the prosecutor on her brother’s case. And, well, the towel fantasy still looped in her mind.

When she didn’t answer, he gave her an earth-to-Emma look
that earned him a swat on the arm.

“We can always discuss your brother’s case.”

She gasped. “Oh, so dirty. You know I can’t resist that one.”

“Part of being a good lawyer is knowing your opponent’s weakness.”

Unbelievable
. “Your sister just said that to me! Right before you got into the car. I’m not kidding.”

He shrugged. “We learned from the master. Now, where shall we eat?”

Chapter Six

Emma set the steaming hot plate of pasta in front of her last customer and did the can-I-get-you-anything-else spiel. As usual, her feet and body ached from the Saturday-night rush, but she’d go home with a fat wad of cash to plop down on her next tuition payment, so there wasn’t a lot to complain about.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted someone sliding into a booth. Really? Closing in thirty minutes and people were still being seated in her section? She headed to the new customer and analyzed the back of his blond head. Couldn’t be.

Then he turned sideways and—yep—Zac Hennings. Her heart seized, along with every other part of her. Why would he be here when he’d told her he and Penny would be spending the night at their parents’ lake house?
Something’s wrong.

The creepy detective. His son probably fell off the face of the earth. Or they cleared him.

Wouldn’t that be her luck?

In the back of her mind, a nagging, paralyzing, incessant fear that sometimes dulled, but never truly vanished, roared with full force. Images flashed through her mind of Brian’s bloody body, laid out on a prison floor where he’d bled to death after a prison brawl.

Don’t think about it
.

Zac shifted sideways and peered over his shoulder, his expression neutral. If he’d at least smile, her fear would go back into hibernation.
Come on, Zac
. But his lips remained...well...flat. He waved, but she stood still, half-terrified to step closer and hear whatever news he had to deliver.

Then, as if sensing her panic, he finally waved her over. She breathed in, ignored her pounding heart and forced her feet to move. Perhaps whatever he had to say wasn’t so bad after all.

She stopped in front of his table. He wore navy slacks and a white dress shirt, no tie. Must have come straight from dinner with his folks. Translation: bad news. Horrible news, if he’d driven from Wisconsin to deliver it.

He squeezed her wrist and the connection, all that warm male heat, sparked.

“Everything is fine,” he said.

Emma dropped her chin to her chest and breathed. With each exhalation, her pulse slowed a notch and she focused on releasing the tension that had wound her body so tightly. How had she gotten so accustomed to bad news that her mind always went straight there? After a few seconds, her composure restored, she lifted her head. “I got nervous when I saw you.”

“I can tell.”

She stole a glance at her customers. Everyone was busy eating. She went back to Zac. “I’m sorry. Prosecutors usually bring bad news. I’ve been conditioned.”

“I understand.” His lips quirked in a subtle, mischievous way and tingles shot up her arms. “Maybe I can break the trend.”

We can’t have that.
She had no room left for personal sinkholes and Zac Hennings was one giant sinkhole waiting to swallow her up. If her brother’s freedom weren’t involved, there would be no question that she’d be on this man like nobody’s business. But right now, Zac’s job was to keep her brother incarcerated.

She could flirt with the charming prosecutor, though. No harm in that. “If anyone can, it’s you. Why are you here? I thought you went to Wisconsin.”

“I did. We had dinner and I decided to come home. Penny stayed with my folks. They’ll all come back tomorrow.”

“So you’re not here for dinner.”

He grinned. “Wicked smart you are.”

Oh, that smile—charming and slick and devilish. The man knew his way around a woman’s heart. And most likely other body parts as well.

Bad, Emma
.
Bad.

“I’m here because I don’t want you going home by yourself. I’ll follow you and make sure you don’t have any unexpected visitors.”

If ever there was something to make her shamelessly sigh, it was that statement right there. After what had happened to her the night before, knowing how alone she was, Zac Hennings, the guy who could destroy her family, wanted to protect her.

I’m in trouble. Deep trouble
.

Nothing about this situation would roll into a happy ending. Her luck didn’t hold that long. Not even close. She’d fall for him and he’d wind up keeping Brian in prison. Recovery from that emotional devastation would be unlikely. This, she understood.

Intellectually.

Physically, she craved a connection. Several connections. On an ongoing basis.

Bad, Emma. Bad.
She had to get her head together. “Hang on. I have to check this table.”

Her customers might have been a lame excuse, but she needed to consider the fine-looking prosecutor with gorgeous eyes and a build she wouldn’t mind seeing sans clothing offering to escort her home.

Had Penny told him to do this?

Could be. Or he was just a nice guy, which wouldn’t be hard to believe because she’d seen that side of him already. That morning over breakfast—his treat—he’d regaled her with stories of childhood antics involving Penny and her hijinks. Emma had laughed and laughed and laughed and, for the first time in two years, she’d allowed herself an hour of fun. To shut her mind off and not think about Mom and Brian and working on finding a solution for the mess that had become her existence.

Now, tonight, fun time had ended. She had to forget how late it was and the fact that she hadn’t been held by a man in an excruciatingly long time.

She checked in with her customers. They were fine. Just fine. Figured. A trip to the kitchen wouldn’t have been a bad stalling tactic. Again her luck had gone bad. Back to the charming prosecutor she went. “Sorry about that. Duty called.”

“No problem. Do I need to order something while I wait for you?”

“Nah. I’ll just tell them you’re my ride. The cheesecake is pretty awesome, though, if you want dessert.”

“No cheesecake. Anything chocolate?”

Emma propped a hip against the side of the booth and nudged his arm with her elbow. “We have a ferocious brownie à la mode.”

Again came the devilish smile. “I love ferocious.”

I’ll bet you do.
Bad, Emma. Bad.

“Okay then. One ferocious brownie for the ferocious prosecutor. Be right back.”

One of the other waitresses, Kelly, sidled next to Emma on her way to the kitchen. Work and school and Brian’s case had sucked away every last bit of Emma’s time, but Kelly had been a constant and the closest thing Emma had to a friend.

Kelly pushed the kitchen door open and held it. “Who’s the guy?”

“Prosecutor on my brother’s case.”

“Shut. The front.
Door
.”

“Truth. I think I have a mad crush on him. He’s so flipping hot and I’m a girl who hasn’t had a man’s hands on me in...a while.” She pulled Kelly aside. “I’m crazy, right? Should I feel this way about a guy who wants to keep Brian in a cell?”

“Considering I’ve never experienced this scenario, I can’t really say if you’re crazy or not, but yeesh, that guy could melt asphalt. I’m thinking you’re crazy if you
don’t
sleep with him.”

Emma aimed for a laugh, but it came out more like a panicked, hysterical squeak. “This is nuts.”

“Don’t get nervous. See where it goes. You might wind up hating him.”

Yes. She barely knew Zac and getting ahead of herself about the nature of their friendship—or whatever it was—wouldn’t help matters. His coming here could be a matter of doing Penny a favor by making sure Emma got home safely.

That’s all this was. A guy offering a kind gesture because his sister asked. “You’re right. By the time we’re done with Brian’s case, I’ll probably despise him.”

Emma nodded to emphasize the point. One solid jerk of her head. Total control. She had it.

Too bad she didn’t believe any of what she’d just said.

* * *

Z
AC
TURNED
ONTO
E
MMA
’
S
street, trying to convince himself that he knew exactly what he was doing. Sure did. He also knew it was an epic—beyond epic—mistake. Bulldozing himself into believing he was a nice guy for getting his sister’s client home safely wasn’t a problem. That was easy enough. The problem was that under all that chivalry he’d buried a guy who wanted to get Emma Sinclair into bed.

And not just once.

Certain things he couldn’t deceive himself about.

All through dinner he’d wondered if Ben Leeks would pay a repeat visit to Emma’s. He could see that scumbag doing it just to mess with him. Throw in the chivalrous, but horny guy—the one buried under the professional veneer—and Zac found himself logging the miles back to Chicago.

He parked in the minuscule driveway—a luxury in Cook County—behind her ancient compact and studied the house. He’d always liked the cultural diversity of Parkland. Certain streets had a small-town feel while still being part of the city.

The Sinclairs’ small colonial with the sagging covered porch could use more outdoor lighting, but he supposed two women living alone didn’t necessarily have the ambition or funds to take on major maintenance projects.

Emma kicked open her car door, held it with one foot.
I know what I’m doing
. Zac got out, sucked cold air.
Focus here.
She reached over to the passenger seat for her purse and the bag of food from the restaurant and bungled it all. He snatched it from her before it hit the pavement.

“Got it.”

“Thanks. My mom wouldn’t want her dinner for tomorrow splattered on the driveway.”

She locked the car and leaned back on it. The garage spotlight illuminated those luscious brown eyes. Fantastic eyes.

“Do you always bring her food from work?”

“Yep.” She shrugged. “She doesn’t go out much anymore.”

“That’s too bad.”

“It sure is.”

The cold, quiet air whipped around him and he breathed in, let it soak his body and, perhaps, if he got lucky, freeze his lascivious thoughts. He gestured to Emma’s unbuttoned jacket. “It’s cold. You should button up.”

Plus, it would be another layer between them. The now frozen
and
buried horny guy wasn’t too thrilled with the chivalrous guy’s suggestion.

“It’s just a short walk to the house.”

Unless I keep you out here
. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll carry this to the porch for you.”

She stared up at him with those eyes that slayed him every time and then a small smile split her full lips. Perfect lips. The top one a hair bigger than the bottom and enough to bring a man down. Horny, frozen guy had big trouble because every inch of him ached to show her how he could put a bigger smile on those lips.

Instead, he gave her a light push toward the door and surveyed the area for a particular detective who had better not be in the vicinity.

Emma climbed the three steps to the wooden porch. Zac spied a loose board on the middle step and stooped to check it. The board flipped up when he pushed on the end. “Hey, you need to get this nailed down. Someone’ll break a foot.”

“I know. It came loose last week and I haven’t had time to deal with it. I’ll take care of it.”

He stepped over the board and gave Emma the bag. “One of my buddies is a contractor. I’ll get him to swing by.”

“Thanks, but don’t go to the trouble.”

“No trouble. He won’t mind.” He grinned at her. “He owes me.”

Emma stared down at the fractured step and sighed. “It sounds dumb, but even getting a stupid board fixed feels like a monumental task.”

A gust of wind blew a sliver of hair out of her ponytail and, on instinct, he reached for it. She flinched and he paused with his hand in midair. Her gaze ricocheted to it then back to him and he waited for her to either back away or green-light him. His baser needs hoped for the green light.

I know what I’m doing.

Except they were standing on the porch where any rat-faced detective might be watching. Tree branches smacked against the house and twigs cracked. Zac breathed in and—how about that—she didn’t back away.

Green light.
What that green light entailed he wasn’t entirely sure, but he’d never been a guy afraid to take a chance. Particularly when it came to women he wanted naked and under him doing wicked things. Slowly, he tucked the loose strand behind her ear. “Houses need maintenance.”

“Yeah, but so do people.”

Oh, honey.

She slapped her free hand against her forehead, her big eyes horrified. “Wow. That came out so wrong.”

Dang, she was cute. Laughing at her, he set his hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a friendly hug. Maybe it was more than friendly in his mind, but he made sure to keep it PC in case his radar was way off and Emma Sinclair hadn’t given him the
go
sign.

His radar was pretty good, though. He kissed the top of her head and visions of her sprawled across his bed, tangled in his sheets, tangled in
him,
filled his mind. Totally cooked. That’s what he was. He wanted her—no two ways about it—and horny, frozen guy didn’t much care who might be watching.

She rested her forehead on his chest and rolled it back and forth while he held her there. A few seconds passed. Then a few more. He’d stand there all night. Emma in his arms got his engines firing in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He relaxed his shoulders, tried to stay loose and control his raging body. Something was happening here. Something good and hot and satisfying and he always wanted more of anything good and hot and satisfying.

“This is bad,” she said.

“Probably.”

She snuggled closer and he slid his arm farther around her shoulder, stroking the back of her neck.

“No probably about it, Zac.”

“I won’t argue, but I generally don’t walk away from something this good.”

Finally, she retreated. “It’s more than good. I’m not sure we should do anything about it, though. You’re the prosecutor on my brother’s case. You have the ability to destroy my family. I can’t risk that.”

He leaned down, got right next to her ear and she stiffened when his lips brushed her skin. “You’re convinced he’s innocent. Convince me and I’m the guy who puts your family back together.”