Cavanaugh's Surrender (21 page)

“And Simmons never asked you to do any of this? Not even indirectly?” Logan asked.

“Mr. Simmons, I’m ashamed to admit, was usually already involved with someone else and not thinking about any woman who had come before.” Howard pressed his lips together. “Mr. Simmons doesn’t walk away from one woman without having his sights set on another one.”

“A game plan, how very organized of him,” Destiny bit off sarcastically. She rose from her chair. “Well, I think we’ve got enough on him to make this stick.”

Logan was already on his feet. “I totally agree,” he responded.

Howard looked from one interrogator to the other and then back again, his head all but spinning. “Make what stick?” he asked nervously, his voice rising and cracking on the last word.

“Oh, you’re a smart man, Howard,” Destiny told him in a syrupy voice. “I think you can figure it out.” And with that, she walked out of the room with Logan right behind her.

Howard began to yell after them, but she made no effort to listen, or to turn around and walk back in. As far as she was concerned, her work here was done. She’d lived up to her promises, both her silent one to her sister and to the verbal one she’d given Mrs. West about bringing the woman’s daughter’s killer to justice.

“Take him down to booking,” Logan told the detective they’d left posted outside the interrogation room.

The detective looked more than happy to comply.

* * *

Destiny sighed as she leaned back in the passenger seat. After making sure that everything was in order and all the right reports were filed, she and Logan were finally calling it a night and leaving the precinct.

It had been a long, long day, and she was more than tired. But happy. Very, very happy. And then it hit her. Right between the eyes.

It was over.

She’d found the man who had killed not just her sister, but also five other women. There was no need for her to hang around the squad room any longer.

And that was when the full implication of that hit her, as well. She could go back to the crime lab. Her work was done.

And so were they.

Out of sight, out of mind, right? And if she needed any proof of that, all she had to do was look at the life expectancy of any one of Logan’s affairs. It gave new meaning to the words
short-term
.

It was probably over already. He might just drop her off at her door and not come in. Or, if he did, it would be just “one last time” and then they—she—would be history.

She’d been way too quiet, Logan thought. Not that the woman had ever been exactly a chatterbox, but this was eerily silent, even for her.

“You know,” he said, glancing at Destiny as they came to a red light and stopped, “for a woman who just nailed the guy responsible for killing her sister, not to mention five other women, you sure don’t look very happy.”

“Oh, I’m very happy,” she protested.

He shifted his foot off the brake and back onto the accelerator. “If that’s very happy, remind me to run for the hills when you’re being very sad.”

Right, as if he was going to stay one more second than he had to. “Don’t worry, you won’t be around to see that.”

“Why?” he pressed. “Where am I going to be? You know something I don’t?” Had there been some sort of a shake-up in the department he hadn’t heard about? He had a habit of ignoring memos and email communications, which at times made him the last to know about precinct matters.

“I’ll be going back down to the crime lab.”

“Okay.” He drew the word out, waiting for more, for some sort of enlightenment.

Annoyed, she blew out a breath. “And you’ll be up here.”

Still no enlightenment. “So? You’re talking about four floors, not scaling the Himalayas or going halfway around the world.”

“It might as well be that.”

Okay, he needed to call her on this since she obviously wasn’t going to volunteer anything remotely close to plain talk unless he deliberately
asked
her to.

“I’ve got three sisters, Richardson. I know all about sideways thinking and stuff coming out of mouths that make absolutely no sense to the male mind. I’ve always been good at putting the pieces together and solving puzzles, but I’ve got to admit you have me completely stumped. Just what the hell are you talking about?”

She stared straight ahead into the darkness as he approached her apartment complex. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Pretend what? That I’m confused?” he guessed when she didn’t say anything. “This isn’t pretending. I am
really
confused. What are you talking about?” Logan asked again.

She looked at him. “You don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said sarcastically.

Finally, at least they’d established that. “Hell, I haven’t got a
clue
what you’re talking about.”

Now he was getting her angry. Did he think she was simpleminded? “I’m talking about moving on.”

Pulling up into a space in guest parking, he turned off the ignition and looked at her, stunned. Where had this come from? He’d thought they were doing well. Progressing, even. And now she hit him with this. “You want to move on?”

Oh, God,
why
was he doing this to her? Torturing her this way? They both knew what she was like. “No,
you
want to move on.”

He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. And then a trickle of relief began to flow through him. “Well, if I do, I haven’t told me yet, so let’s just keep that a secret.”

“This isn’t funny, Logan,” Destiny insisted, glaring at him.

“
Finally
. Something we can agree on.”

For just a second, she was speechless. Was he saying that...?

No, this was Logan Cavanaugh, a man who’d refused to have any ties outside his family. For some reason, he was playing mind games with her. Well, no more beating around the bush. She intended to resolve this head-on. She couldn’t take nurturing false hopes.

“You’re telling me that you don’t want to move on.”

He never blinked as he repeated, “I’m telling you that I don’t want to move on.”

So maybe she had a little more time with him, but that didn’t change what was eventually coming, and she knew it. They
both
knew it.

“Yet,” she said.

“Ever,” he countered.

No, no, she couldn’t let herself get sucked in. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that he was talking about something permanent.

And yet...

Her voice was far less confident and a little shaky as she began, “So you’re telling me—”

He didn’t want to go another round of trading barbs or having her toss accusations at him. He couldn’t blame Destiny for being skeptical. He figured she knew all about his reputation. Hell, everyone knew all about his reputation.

But this had nothing to do with his reputation and everything to do with his new view on what life should
really
be about. About having the same person beside you, the same person to love and share things with, good
and
bad.

“That I love you and I intend to stick around until you toss me out,” he said, concluding what he knew she hadn’t been about to say.

Every inch of her was tingling now. It began to dawn on her that he just might be serious. “And if I don’t toss you out?”

His smile was almost radiant. “Then I become a permanent fixture in your life.”

Everything inside of her was holding its breath, wanting so desperately to believe what he was saying. At the same time, she was afraid to believe it.

“How permanent?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.

“Permanent-permanent.” He brushed his fingertips along her face, exciting both of them. “Bonding cement permanent. World-without-end permanent.” The urge to kiss her was tremendous, but this had to be put to bed first. “Convinced yet?”

Her mouth was cotton dry. “Not yet. I’m still working on stunned.”

“You work on ‘stunned,’” he told her, moving aside the hair against her neck and then touching his lips to her skin. “I’ll work on you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as delicious sensations sprang up, fully grown and raring to go. “You know I can’t think when you do that.”

She felt him laugh against her skin. Who would have thought that could excite her, as well? But it did. Very much.

“That’s the whole idea,” he told her, pressing another kiss to her neck. Sending shimmies of desire through her. “You’ve done entirely too much thinking. Time to bring your senses into play.”

It was hard to think. Harder to talk, but she had to tell him this. “Well, before my senses start playing, I just want to tell you that I love you, too.”

“I know.”

She drew back to look at him. How could he know when she’d just really found out herself? The moment he’d said he loved her, something strong and kindred had leaped to the foreground within her.

“You know?”

He nodded and there was that sexy smile again, completely turning her to mush inside. “Your eyes gave you away.”

She laughed softly, finally beginning to relax, to feel that it was going to be all right. “I didn’t realize you were a student of eyes.”

He raised one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Eyes, lips, nose, vital body parts—I’m a student of everything there is to study and know about you. Now, if you don’t mind,” he went on, his eyes teasing her, “I’ve fallen behind in my homework and I need to catch up.”

There it was again, that thrill of anticipation. “Far be it for me to keep you from your homework.”

He laughed then and she hugged the sound to her. Getting out of the car, he rounded the trunk—or half the trunk.

They met in the middle.

“That’s my girl.”

“Yes,” she told him, entwining her arms around his neck, “I am.”

It was the start of a record-breaking kiss.

Logan had intended to ask her to marry him, but he realized that she might not be ready to hear that just yet. That was all right. It would keep. He could be patient.

But not too patient, he thought as the kiss intensified.

Maybe he’d ask her in the morning.

It sounded good to him.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt of
The Cop's Missing Child
by Karen Whiddon!

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romantic Suspense title.

You want sparks to fly! Harlequin Romantic Suspense stories deliver, with strong and adventurous women, brave and powerful men and the life-and-death situations that bring them together.

Visit
Harlequin.com
to find your next great read.

We like you—why not like us on Facebook:
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

Follow us on Twitter:
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books:
HarlequinBlog.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

Harlequin.com/newsletters

Chapter 1

T
he bright sun felt warm on his skin. If he’d been here for no reason other than a desire to enjoy the weather, Mac Riordan would have stopped and turned his face up to let the bright rays try to heat blood that these days always seemed chilled. Instead, he glanced around while keeping his quarry in sight, taking in the lush greenness of the park crowded with citizens enjoying the early spring air.

He couldn’t believe the hunter’s rush he felt at this planned-for encounter. Finally, after all this time, he’d meet the woman who had, inadvertently or not, stolen everything he had left to live for.

He’d planned this carefully, just happened to take a stroll along the tree-lined, paved walking path when the very woman he’d come to town to find strode past him on her daily walk—Emily Gilley. He’d been watching her for a week, after all, and figured an accidental meeting in the park would be a great way to meet her.

True, if he wanted this to appear unintentional, keeping up with her confident pace without looking as though he was stalking her might prove difficult, though not impossible.

He doubted she’d find him suspicious. From what he’d heard about the east Texas town of Anniversary, everyone was friendly and trusting and looked out for each other. If this was true, then Emily Gilley would have no reason to worry about a friendly stranger.

He allowed himself the slightest of grim smiles. If only she knew.

So far, he’d been careful. After all, he’d only been in town for three weeks. It was just long enough to establish his brand-new trucking business and to put out a few feelers about her, the woman he’d spent several years trying to locate: Emily Gilley, twenty-nine-year-old widow of one of the most notorious drug dealers on the Eastern Seaboard. She’d changed her name, taking back her mother’s maiden name Gilley, and altered both the cut and the color of her hair, all to help her disappear. But for someone with the far-flung resources to which he had access, finding her had been a matter of time and a tenacious effort. He was fortunate to still have a lot of the tools from his law enforcement days at his disposal.