Emma could hear Drew's voice. She knocked on his half-open office door. He was leaning back in his chair, twisting a biro between his fingers, his attention focused on someone, obscured from Emma's sight by the door.
His gaze shifted, widened, apparently startled to see her. He rose to his feet as Emma walked into the room - and stopped, her mouth opening slightly in surprise.
The other person was male, as broad in the shoulders as Drew, but slightly taller. Faded denim cut-offs, and a white T-shirt that stretched over muscular chest and arms, revealed skin that gorgeous shade of golden bronze she thought was reserved for movie stars and playboys with solariums.
Wavy light-brown hair flopped endearingly over a wide forehead, drawing attention to eyes the colour of polished mahogany. A long straight nose and classic chiselled bone structure complemented his perfectly shaped lips.
He was the most handsome man Emma had ever seen.
She glanced a query at Drew, and blinked in surprise at his expression. Fierce determination was naked on his face, but in an instant it was gone. He was smiling as he walked around the desk.
'Emma, I'd like you to meet my brother, Chayse.'
She lifted her hand as Chayse extended his. 'Brother? You're Drew's brother?' His hand was strong and hard, his grip firm.
'I can see Drew hasn't told you about me.' His dark eyes twinkled. 'Older brothers are always protective.'
Protective
? What on earth would Drew want to protect this capable-looking man from? And why keep him a secret - she had given Drew plenty of opportunities to tell her about his family.
Emma murmured a polite greeting. Drew walked closer and placed one hand on Emma's shoulder in that oddly possessive gesture he'd used when she'd first met Dale in front of The Centre. Again, warmth flooded her body.
A strange expression flitted through Chayse's eyes but his smile was genuine. 'Drew's told me all about you. Well,' his gaze flicked assessingly to his brother, 'almost all. He forgot to mention how beautiful you are.'
Emma found herself at a loss for a reply. Drew saved her by offering her a chair, then leaned back against his desk, the denim of his jeans tight over his well-muscled thighs. Emma's gaze followed the straining fabric, her skin tingling.
Chayse levered his long body into another chair.
Drew rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. 'I have to go to the police station, Emma. One of the circuit judges has been murdered.'
Shock knifed through Emma. Her chest tightened. 'Does he…did he have any connection with you?'
She caught the look that flashed between the brothers. Drew looked strained, as though he'd been stretched just a little too far. 'We worked on a few cases together,' he conceded.
'What else?' She'd heard the hesitation in his voice.
He looked at Chayse, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.
'Judge Abercrombie was a rock-hound. He spent a lot of time in isolated areas searching for precious and semi-precious gems. Apparently yesterday, when he hadn't returned home by two o'clock, his wife became worried. They'd planned to visit an old friend in hospital and she knew he wouldn't have forgotten. She drove out to where his car was parked but he wasn't there. When she couldn't find him, she phoned search and rescue.'
A knot was growing in Emma's stomach. Drew's words were slow and deliberate, as though he was trying to lead her to something he really didn't want to reveal.
'They found him within an hour. His neck was broken, and his body had been buried under a pile of stones.'
'And?' Tension sharpened Emma's tone.
'This morning Mrs Abercrombie remembered passing another vehicle not far from where her husband's car was parked. It was a white van - with a blue stripe down the side.'
The same type of vehicle Drew had described seeing after he was dumped in front of her father's property
! The knot in her stomach tightened.
'Was the judge your friend?'
'No. He once told me he approved of what we do here at The Centre but said he wouldn't become involved because he could be accused of bias if one of the kids ended up in his court.'
'So it's not because of you.' Relief overwhelmed her anxiety. Surely now he could stop feeling guilty over Dario's death.
He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and fingers and closed his eyes. 'No.' It was a weary sigh. 'At least, I don't think so.'
'Mick Landers wants Drew to go in and check Mrs Abercrombie's van description for comparison.' Chayse spoke quietly. 'Then we'll go through all the cases involving Drew, Dario and the judge. Luckily AA - Judge Abercrombie - had only been on the northern circuit for six years so that narrows the time frame.'
Drew took his car keys out of his desk drawer and walked past Emma's chair. As he did so, his fingers lingered gently on her arm. 'I'd appreciate it if you could stay with Emma until I get back, Chayse. I assume The Centre's safe but I'd rather not take any chances.'
The touch of Drew's fingers momentarily distracted Emma from protesting that she didn't need protection. But when she opened her mouth to say so, the expressions on both men's faces warned her that protesting would be useless.
Stretching back in his chair, Chayse watched Drew walk out. His gaze switched to Emma, and for a moment she was fooled by his casual, almost lazy manner. But the shrewd glint in his dark eyes warned her she was being assessed.
Two can play at that game
. 'What do you do for a living, Chayse?'
A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth and she was struck again by how good-looking he was. For a few seconds she compared the two brothers. Drew's features were more rugged, not as spectacular as Chayse's, but when she thought of Drew her pulse raced and her body urged her to seek the kind of satisfaction she'd tasted only once in her life - in Drew's arms.
'As little as possible for as much as possible.'
It was a glib answer, deliberately revealing nothing.
'How do you feel about my brother, Emma?'
Emma blinked, flung off guard by the question. Had she betrayed her attraction to Drew in some way? 'What…what do you mean?'
'My brother isn't normally a very demonstrative person. Yet he appears to have trouble keeping his hands off you. Whether he's admitted it to himself or not, I think he's fallen for you.'
'Nooo.' Emma wasn't sure if she groaned in protest or disbelief. 'Why are you telling me this?'
'Because I don't want to see him hurt.' Chayse replied. 'He's a good bloke and doesn't need to be screwed around by someone who doesn't give a damn about his feelings.'
Heat rose in Emma's cheeks. She
did
give a damn about his feelings. More than she liked to admit to herself or anyone else. 'Surely that's for Drew to work out.'
Chayse nodded. 'Yes, but if I can prevent it, I will.'
'I thought Drew was the protective older brother?'
'What's Drew told you about himself, Emma?'
It must be a family trait, this habit of answering a question with another question
. 'Only that his…your parents are dead.'
'Did he tell you how Mum died?'
Emma was beginning to feel cross-examinations ran in the family as well. Folding her arms, she leant back in her chair.
Chayse quirked an eyebrow at her body language, and deliberately relaxed his hands on his thighs. 'I was adopted when Drew was two years old. Drew felt our parents favoured me, as though they were trying to make up to me for my birth mother having died. He was always intense - and probably not an easy child to like - whereas I was a happy kid who made friends easily. Things were okay until high school, then Drew got in with the wrong crowd, ran away from home.'
'He told me about that part.'
The eyebrow raised again. 'He didn't disappear completely like a lot of kids do. He phoned and told our parents he was all right, but they weren't fooled. They were heartbroken. Dad even walked the city streets at night hoping to find him. Then Mum was diagnosed with stomach cancer.' A sad, bleak look touched Chayse's features.
Emma waited, her outwardly calm exterior belying her dread at what Chayse might reveal.
'It was terminal. Some months later, Drew phoned and told us he was at a cattle property west of Cairns. When he heard Mum was dying, he came straight home.'
Ah, that explained Drew's brusque reply when she'd asked him about leaving the property. 'And I guess he blamed himself for his mother's condition?'
Chayse smiled. 'You do know him well. Mum never blamed him, but I knew he felt guilty for all the trouble he'd caused. I was still in school, Dad had to work two jobs to pay the medical bills, so Drew looked after Mum.' His expression grew serious. 'You're a doctor, you know what's entailed in looking after someone with advanced cancer. Dad bathed and fed her at night, but Drew did everything else for her during the day. She only went into hospital two days before she died.'
Emma was well aware of the physical and emotional strength Drew would have needed to cope with nursing his mother. 'How old was Drew when she died?'
'Nineteen.'
Nineteen
. Her respect for him increased.
'He'd dropped out in the last year of high school,' Chayse continued, 'but Mum wanted him to go back. He compromised by doing it through correspondence, and succeeded in being offered a place in law at uni just before she died.
'Mum's death left a terrible gap in our lives. She was a wonderful woman. I don't know if it was just the grief or if I was jealous that Mum and Drew had grown so close when she was sick, but I blamed Drew for her death. I'd started university myself by then, and when Drew got involved with another student, I deliberately set out to take her away from him.'
Emma shifted uncomfortably. She'd wanted to know about Drew but this was becoming almost too personal.
'I succeeded. Drew and I fought.' He grimaced in memory. 'Physically. Bashed the sh…daylights out of each other.'
'Who won?' She couldn't help herself - she had to know, and she hoped it was Drew.
Chayse smiled, strong white teeth flashing in his handsome face, a smile of genuine delight. 'Dad did. Turned the hose on us full force. Told us to shake hands and grow up. We stood there like two wet, belligerent dogs. I felt terrible about what I'd done, but I was too stubborn to admit it. Then Drew shrugged and said, "She was knock-kneed, anyway." We both burst into laughter, shook hands, and have been the best of friends since.'
He sat in silence for a while, and Emma wondered again at his reason for telling her this about Drew.
Finally she could stand the silence no longer. 'Why did you tell me all this, Chayse?'
'Because even though Drew joked about it to allow me a way of saving face, I knew that what I'd done had hurt him badly. He'd loved the girl, and thought she'd loved him, so it had been a double betrayal.' He leaned forward, his expression serious. 'He might have forgiven me, but I haven't forgiven myself. I'd hate to see someone else kick him in the guts, Emma.'
'I owe Drew my life, Chayse. I have no intention of doing anything to hurt him.'
Not deliberately, anyway. But some things are impossible to prevent
. 'And I'm quite sure he can look after himself.' She indicated the files on Drew's desk. 'Could we make a start on these cases you mentioned? Drew might appreciate a hand.'
Chayse gave her a hard look, as though he wasn't yet sure of her. He stood, picked up one of the files and opened it. 'We'll start with the latest cases, then work our way back. Remember, only keep out the ones where Drew was in court with Dario and the judge.'
An hour later, a small pile of hopeful files stacked against a large pile of irrelevant ones.
Emma was beginning to think a strong cup of coffee was needed before she could tackle any more reading, when Drew walked in clutching a large box.
'These are from my office at home. I got them out of storage.' He lowered the box on to the floor and took out more files.
'What else did you manage to save?' Chayse asked, his voice betraying the loss of something more than bricks and mortar.
'All your gear from your bedroom, and most of Mum and Dad's memorabilia.'
An image of her father's dejected face as he'd handed her his Will came to Emma, and she felt an ache in her heart for Drew and Chayse at having lost their childhood home. Then she remembered that she, too, would soon have to sell her father's property, and an enormous lump formed in her throat. Memories of her father, both happy and sad, tumbled over in her brain. She gulped and tried to gain control, but hot tears stung her eyes.
Mumbling an excuse, she fled the room.
She ran towards the lunch room, rubbing frantically at her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears, but her chest heaved with sobs and she couldn't stop them.
Strong arms encircled her, pulling her into the warmth and security of a solid male chest. She didn't need to open her eyes to know it was Drew. In a corner of her mind she realised that his vibrant male scent was forever imprinted on her awareness, that he would only have to enter a room and she would sense he was there. And yearn for him. Ache for him.
Desire him.
With a resolve that took more effort than she liked, she stepped back from his embrace, watched his tanned hands slip down the whiteness of her sleeves.
'I'm sorry. I just thought about Dad…'
'I know,' he soothed. 'Grief catches up with you at funny times. Usually when you least expect it.'
'It's…it's not just the grief. Dad used to always make me feel so guilty. Guilty that I wasn't the son he'd always wanted, guilty I'd lived when Matthew had died. I know it's not rational, but…'
Drew's hands dropped and Emma felt contrarily abandoned, suddenly wishing she had the courage to take the comfort he offered. And the passion.
'I'll make some coffee.' He held out a chair for her and she sat down gratefully, brushing the tears from her face.
'After my mum died, I felt as guilty as all hell.' Drew spoke as he filled the electric jug and prepared the cups. He'd never spoken of this to anyone before, but if it could help Emma to deal with her feelings about her father, he would strip his soul bare and lay it before her. It was almost frightening to acknowledge the depth of caring he had for Emma. Even the thought of confronting Dario's killer didn't scare him as much as the possibility of never winning Emma's love.