Lover Beware (6 page)

"No. I can see that. What happened?"

"He never went to trial. The police were sloppy. They didn't secure the evidence properly. Seven months later, he killed again. That time, the cops did it right. He didn't get away with it."

She'd given him a piece of herself, something important wrenched up from deep inside where it still hurt. He lifted a hand and rubbed his knuckles along her cheek slowly, thanking her. "This woman isn't dead because you were sloppy, Lily. You know that."

She blinked. "I didn't mean ... I don't think it's my fault."

Yes, she did. But she was pulling back now, embarrassed that she'd revealed so much. "That's good. I admire your passion. And your courage."

Oh, definitely she was embarrassed now. She turned away, trying to get her cop face back. "The point is, the law has to

be the same for everyone. Fuentes has to matter as much as Charlene Hall. And whoever killed them, for whatever reason, has to be stopped."

"Of course. Aside from the personal injustice of murder, if there's sufficient outrage it will affect the vote next fall. Especially if there are killings elsewhere."

She stopped moving. "You're talking about a conspiracy."

"I'm speculating. I have no evidence. But with this latest death ..." He drove his fingers through his hair. "Killing a woman will garner a great deal more outrage than killing a gang member did, won't it?"

"This is going to make trouble for you. She was killed much closer to the Nokolai Clanhome than the others. Rule, I have to talk to your father. I have to talk to a number of your people, but your father first."

"He'll be back tomorrow. I'll speak to him." He took her hand, closing his fingers around it firmly. "When are you going to go out with me?"

Her laugh was uncertain. "I mentioned something before about your odd sense of timing. We're at a murder scene, for God's sake."

He stroked his thumb along the pulse point in her wrist. "So let's agree that we have to stop meeting this way, and meet some other way. Over dinner, perhaps. I'm growing impatient."

"That's not my problem."

"I want to discuss something other than death and politics with you. I want to see your face when you're not being a cop."

"I'm always a cop."

Perhaps. But she was a woman, too. And her heart was beating fast and hard right now, like his. It took all his control to keep from bending to taste that pretty, unsmiling mouth, but he knew how little she'd appreciate that. Her people might see. His mouth crooked up. "I guess tonight is out."

"Good guess," she said dryly. But she didn't snatch her hand away.

"Tomorrow won't work, either. As I said, my father returns then, and we'll have a good deal to discuss. How about the next night? I can get tickets to a play, reservations for dinner."

She eased her hand away from his. "That's Friday night,

and I'm booked. A family party—Grandmother's eightieth birthday." She started back down the path, but had taken only a couple of steps when she paused, looking back at him. The tilt of her lips held challenge. "Ah ... it's formal, a big bash at my uncle Chan's restaurant. Would you care to go with me?"

Chapter 6

LILY WASN'T SURE at what point she'd lost her mind. At six-oh-seven that Friday she slicked color over her lips and tried to figure that out.

What had prompted her impulsive invitation to Rule? Hormones run amok? Her conversation with her mother earlier had put the idea in her head, but she hadn't been serious. She certainly hadn't intended to ask him. All of a sudden the idea had burst open in her mind like a flower gone from bud to bloom instantly, and she'd done it.

Maybe it had been that brief, startling gentleness he'd shown. The way he'd stroked her cheek, the softness in his voice. For a moment, understanding had shimmered between them, fragile and precious.

Or she'd thought it had.

Lily shook her head, turned to open her closet, which was off the bathroom, and almost tripped over Worf. "No shedding or drooling allowed," she told him firmly. "Sit."

Obediently he lowered his rear end, but continued to pant at her happily. She kept an eye on his lolling tongue as she reached for her dress.

Never mind the reason. The fact was that she'd succumbed

to impulse. A flash of lunacy, she supposed. And winced. Lunacy was not a comfortable word, considering the effect a full moon had on the man she would be with tonight.

The moon would be full in three days. She'd checked.

All in all, this hadn't been a good day. She'd spent too much of it in court, for one thing, testifying against a scumbag with a lawyer bright enough to know his client's only hope was to make Lily look crooked, incompetent, or both. He hadn't succeeded, but it hadn't made for a fun morning. That afternoon she'd argued with enough bureaucrats to drive a saint to violence. Finally the Department of Health had condescended to let her copy its list of lupi living inSan Diego, complied back when the government was registering them.

Rule's name hadn't been on the list. No surprise there. Neither was his father's. But eighty-seven others were. She'd barely started checking the names and addresses against the phone book to see who was still around.

Not everything had gone wrong today, she reminded herself. Neither her mother nor her grandmother had answered when, smitten by conscience, she'd called to let them know the name of her escort tonight. There was no point in hoping her family wouldn't realize who Rule was. Shoot, her grandmother read People regularly, and the magazine had done a spread on the Nokolai prince only last March.

Her mother was not going to appreciate the joke.

So why was she humming? Lily froze with the dress draped over her arm. This was nuts. Anyone would think she was looking forward to the evening.

Her dress. That was what had her humming, of course. She slid it from the hanger. Worf stood up, wagging his tail. "Sit," she told him again.

Her dress was ankle-length silk in a color that made her think of sapphires drenched in darkness, the color of the sky when dawn is barely a promise in the east. Lily had found it on sale a month ago and fallen in love. Even the sight of the price tag hadn't deterred her.

It was magnificent, she thought with sudden uncertainty as she surveyed herself in the mirror. A dream of a dress—sexy, feminine, sophisticated. Too sophisticated, maybe. She sure didn't look like a cop. Rule was going to think she'd dressed for him. He would think tonight was ... personal.

He'd be right. Nerves snapped in her middle like a string of firecrackers.

Maybe if she took her hair down she'd look more like herself.

Lily had her hands in her hair, the first pin unpinned, when the phone rang. She stepped into her shoes on the way to the living room, the bobby pin still in her hand. She spared a glance at the clock as she picked up the phone.

Six twenty-two. Rule would be here any minute. "Hello?"

"You left a message on that infernal machine," a light, high voice said in Chinese.

"I am sorry, Grandmother, but when I couldn't reach you I felt it better to use the machine than to say nothing." Her grandmother did not approve of answering machines. She wasn't too fond of telephones, television, or microwaves, either.

"Your message said that you have invited Rule Turner to accompany you to my birthday celebration."

"Yes, Grandmother," Lily replied, careful of both her courtesy and her accent. Her command of the tongue seldom pleased her grandmother.

"He is lupus. A prince of one of their clans."

"Yes. I didn't want you to be taken by surprise."

"I have not been surprised since the Mets won the pennant. Did you tell your mother about this man?"

"I left her a message, the same as yours. I don't know if—"

"Good. Say nothing more to her." She hung up.

Lily shook her head. Phone conversations with her grandmother tended to end abruptly. Not that conversations in person were much different. She glanced at the clock. There might still be time to finish taking her hair down if she—

The doorbell rang. Worf let out a deep woof and surged to his feet. Lily took a steadying breath, jabbed the bobby pin back in her hair, and turned to face the door.

Battlestations.

HE DROVE AN Explorer. That surprised her. It seemed so— well, so middle-class normal. Half the people inCaliforniadrove some kind of SUV.

"I ought to sell tickets,” Lily muttered as he slid into the driver's seat beside her. Rule Turner was eye candy no matter

what he wore, but in a tux the impact could wreck a woman's breathing.

"Pardon?" The knowing glint in his eyes suggested he'd heard her very well.

"Never mind." She found herself watching his hands as he started the engine and took them out into traffic. His fingers were long and slim. No scars, of course, nor any little nicks or scabs. Lupi healed such things. What was more surprising was how little hair there was on the backs of his hands. She'd always thought lupi were hairy. "Listen, I'm sorry about the way Worf acted. He's usually friendly."

"He didn't like my scent. The two of us will work things out," he said as he guided the vehicle smoothly through traffic. "Once he accepts me as dominant, he won't need to challenge me."

Nor did his beard seem especially heavy, though naturally he would have shaved... wouldn't he? Did lupi need to shave? "You're assuming you're going to see my dog often enough to work on a relationship with him."

"That's right. I am."

Her lips twitched. A sensible woman wouldn't find his arrogance so appealing. And maybe it wouldn't be, if she didn't suspect he was amused by himself, too. "So, what did your father say? Am I cleared to go talk to your people tomorrow?"

"He agreed to put it before the Council."

"What Council? I thought the Lupois's word was law."

"You might think of the Council as an advisory body, the elders of the tribe. Or maybe they're more like church deacons. The Lupois doesn't answer to the Council, but it pays to have their backing, particularly if he is considering breaking with tradition."

"I can't wait much longer, Rule."

"I know. I have a suggestion. Why don't we talk about something other than the investigation tonight?"

"Such as?"

"What do you usually talk about on a date?"

"The usual—his work, his hobbies, his ex-wives."

He clucked his tongue. "Sexism rears its ugly head. Surely there are a few men who don't just discuss themselves?"

"Well, they mostly don't want to talk about my work, unless I date a cop. And I don't date cops."

"I'm glad to hear that. Of course, I'd rather you didn't date anyone except me."

Her mouth went dry. "You don't have any right to say that. You're moving too fast."

"I'm being honest. Why don't you date cops?"

"They're lousy bets for anything long-term. Besides, it would be icky."

He grinned. "Icky?"

"You know—the way it would feel to work with someone you've ... someone who ... never mind."

"Do you 'never mind' with every man you date?" He slowed for the turn. "I ask not to condemn, you understand, but in hope."

She shook her head. "There you go, jumping to conclusions. I was talking about kissing, not grappling under the covers. And how uncomfortable it would be to work with someone I've had carnal thoughts about, or who I know has had those thoughts about me."

"If you think that only the men you've dated have carnal thoughts about you, you're far more naive than I would have believed."

The husky note in his voice turned the banter personal. Intimate. She licked her lips and tried to keep things light. "Of course not. According to studies, men have carnal thoughts every ten seconds or so. Women know this. We just prefer to ignore it."

"I wasn't talking about the occasional random hard-on. I was talking about the way men react to you. You're an intensely desirable woman, Lily."

Suddenly the air burned in her lungs, thick and sweet, and she was overwhelmingly conscious of her hands. Of the need to touch him—and the need to keep herself from doing any such thing. Lily looked down at her lap, smoothed the silk of her dress, and listened to her heartbeat pounding and pounding in her throat. She couldn't think of a thing to say.

After a moment he sighed. "And now I've made you uncomfortable. Too much honesty too soon. What do you do when you aren't arresting lawbreakers?"

"I like to run, hike, paddle around in the ocean. I've done some rock climbing. What do you do when you aren't jet-setting around or turning hairy?"

He chuckled. "Hairy or smooth, I like to run, hike, and paddle around in the ocean, too. Climbing, though, is better done with hands."

"That makes sense. Um... I should probably warn you about my family. My grandmother knows who you are. I'm not sure my mother does—I left a message with your name— but she'll figure it out pretty quickly."

"Will that be a problem?"

"Probably," she said gloomily. "You're certainly not Chinese. If you were a surgeon, that might not matter. Or a lawyer, as long as you worked for a prestigious firm. She's very big on personal achievement. About my grandmother, though ..." Her voice trailed off.

"The one you call Tiger Lady?"

"For heaven's sake, don't call her that tonight. The closest Chinese translation is, uh, not respectful." She sighed. There was no way to explain Grandmother. One had to experience her. "Just treat her as if she were royalty."

HE WAS MAKING mistakes with her. Rule knew that, but he couldn't seem to stop. He wanted to claim her, and he didn't want to wait. But whenever he let his urgency slip out, she retreated.

Lily wasn't sure about him. That was only natural. Even if he hadn't been what he was, she would have wanted time to know him, to know her own mind. He understood. He even agreed. But his blood was up, and the discipline of years was stretched taut just by being with her.

It didn't help to know she was as attracted as he, however she tried to hide it.

Tonight's date was about as safe as a first date could be, he thought wryly as they entered the restaurant. They were on her turf, surrounded by her family. He would rather have taken her someplace quiet and private, someplace where he could look at her as much as he liked. Touching would have been nice, too. But it eased something inside him to look at the curve of her throat or the slightly crooked incisor that only showed when she grinned. "You have a lot of relatives," he murmured.