Night Shield (8 page)

Then his hand bumped over her weapon.

He jerked back as if she’d drawn it and shot him.

What was he doing? What in God’s name was he doing?

She said nothing, only stared at him with eyes that had gone blurry at the edges. Her arms remained over her head, as if his hands still pinned them there.

Her body quaked.

“That was a mistake,” she managed to say.

“I know it.”

“A really serious mistake.”

With her eyes open, she fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers.

This time it was his body that jerked, and the shock of it vibrated through her, down to the bone. He’d savaged her mouth with that first mad kiss, and she wanted him to do it again. He would damn well do it again until her system stopped screaming.

She couldn’t breathe without breathing him, and every desperate gulp of air was like the pump of a drug. The power of it charged through her while their lips and tongues warred.

With one violent move, he yanked her shirt out of the waistband of her slacks, then snaked his hand beneath until it closed over her breast.

The groan came from both of them.

“The minute I saw you.” He tore his mouth from hers to feast on her throat. “The first minute I saw you.”

“I know.” She wanted his mouth again, had to have it. “I know.”

He started to drag her jacket off, had it halfway down her arms when sanity began to pound against madness. The madness urged him to take her—why shouldn’t he?—fast and hard. To take what he needed, the way he needed it, and please himself.

“Ally.” He said her name, and the old-fashioned sweetness of it clicked reality back into place.

She saw him step back—though he didn’t move, she saw the deliberate distance he built between them by the change in his eyes. Those fascinating and clear green eyes.

“Okay.” She sucked in a breath. “Okay, okay.” In an almost absent move she patted his shoulder until he did indeed step back. “That was … whoa.” She sidestepped, paced away into his office. “Okay, that was … something.”

“Something or other.”

“I need a minute for my mind to clear.” She’d never had passion slam into her with a force that blanked the mind. But she’d have to worry about that, deal with that, later. Right now it was essential she find her balance.

“We probably both knew that was in there. And it’s probably best we got it out,” she said.

To give himself a moment he bent down, picked up the empty water bottle, set it aside. Then he dipped his hands into his pockets because they weren’t altogether steady, and followed her into the office.

“I’ll agree with the first part and reserve judgment on the second. What do we do now?”

“Now we … get over it.”

Just like that? he thought. She’d cut him off at the knees, and now he was supposed to just hobble
away and get over it?

“Fine.” Pride iced his voice. He walked over, took three tapes out of his desk drawer. “I believe these satisfy your warrant.”

Her palms were sweaty, but she couldn’t sacrifice the dignity she was trying to rebuild by wiping them off. She took the tapes, slipped them into her shoulder bag. “I’ll give you a receipt.”

“Forget it.”

“I’ll give you a receipt,” she repeated and took out a pad. “It’s procedure.”

“We wouldn’t want to tamper with procedure.” He held out his hand, accepting the copy she offered. “Don’t let me keep you, Fletcher. Clock’s ticking.”

She strode to the door, yanked it open. Dignity be damned, she decided and spun back. “You can save the attitude. You made the first move, I made the second. That’s an even slate to me, and now it’s done.”

“Honey—make that Detective Honey—if we were done, we’d both be feeling a lot better right now.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll live with it,” she muttered and sacrificed dignity for satisfaction by slamming the door.

*  *  *

Ally wasn’t cut out to be a waitress. She was sure of it when, during her second shift at Blackhawk’s, she poured the drink Beth had allowed her to serve over the head of the idiot customer who’d grabbed her butt and invited her to engage in a sexual act that was illegal in several states.

The customer had objected, rather strongly, to her response, but before she could flatten him, Will had appeared like smoke between them. She’d had to stand passively and be rescued.

It had grated for hours.

But if she was sure of her lack of waitress potential after her second shift, she was desperate to shed her cover by the third.

She wanted action. And not the kind that required her to serve wild wings in demon sauce and take orders for drinks called tornadoes to young executives on the make.

Twenty minutes into her third night at Blackhawk’s had given her a profound respect for those who served and cleared and tolerated impatience, lousy tips and lewd propositions.

“I hate people.” Ally waited for her drink order at the bar while Pete drew a beer off tap.

“Ah, no, you don’t.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I really do. They’re rude, annoying, oblivious. And all of them are jammed into Blackhawk’s.”

“And it’s only six thirty.”

“Please. Six thirty-five. Every minute counts.” She glanced back at Jan, who worked the bar area, all but dancing between tables as she cleared, served and played up her assets. “How does she do it?”

“Some are born for it, Blondie. You’ll excuse my saying so, but you’re not. Not that you don’t do the job, but you don’t have the passion.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have the arches, either.” She started to lift the tray, eyes tracking the room as always, then she let it drop again when she spotted the man coming in the front door.

“Oh, hell. Pete, ask Jan to get this order to table eight club side. I have to do something.”

“Ally, what’re you doing here?”

It was all Dennis got out of his mouth before Ally grabbed his arm and hauled him through the bar,
into the kitchen and out the back door. “Damn it, Dennis. Damn it!”

“What’s the matter? What did you drag me out here for?” He put on his best baffled look, but she’d seen it before. She’d seen the whole routine before.

“I’m on the job. You’ll blow my cover, for God’s sake. I told you what would happen if you started following me again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His injured air had worked on her once. More than once.

“You listen to me.” She stepped close, jabbed a finger in his chest. “Listen hard, Dennis. We’re done. We have been done for months. There’s no chance that’s going to change, and every chance, if you keep hassling me, I’ll slap a restraining order on your butt and make your life a living hell.”

His mouth thinned, his eyebrows lowered, the way she knew they did when he was backed into a corner. “This is a public place. All I did was walk into a public place. I’m entitled to buy a drink in a bar when I’m in the mood.”

“You’re not entitled to follow me or to jeopardize my cover in a police investigation. You crossed the line, and I’m calling the D.A.’s office in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that. Come on, Ally. How was I supposed to know you were on the job here? I just happened to pass by and—”

“Don’t lie to me.” She balled her hand into a fist, then in frustration tapped it against her own temple as she turned away. “Don’t lie.”

“I just miss you so much. I think about you all the time. I can’t help it. I know I shouldn’t have followed you. I didn’t mean to. I was just hoping we could talk, that’s all. Come on, baby.” He took her shoulders, buried his face in her hair in a way that made her skin crawl. “If we could just talk.”

“Don’t … touch me.” She hunched her shoulders, started to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around her, one hard squeeze of possession.

“Don’t pull away. You know it makes me crazy when you go cold like that.”

She could have had him flat on his back with her foot on his throat in two moves. She didn’t want it to come to that. “Dennis, don’t make me hurt you. Just leave me alone. Take your hands off me and leave me alone, or it’s going to be so much worse than it already is.”

“No. It’ll be better. I swear, it’ll be better. You just have to take me back, and things’ll be the way they used to be.”

“No. They won’t.” She stiffened, braced to break the hold. “Let me go.”

Light spilled out of the kitchen door as it opened. “I’d advise you to do what the lady asked,” Jonah warned. “And do it fast.”

She closed her eyes, felt temper and embarrassment rise up under the frustration. “I can handle this.”

“Maybe, but you won’t. This is my place. Take your hands off her.”

“We’re having a private conversation.” Dennis turned but pulled Ally with him.

“Not anymore. Go inside, Ally.”

“This is none of your business.” Dennis’s voice rose, cracked. It was a tenor she’d heard before. “Just butt out.”

“That wasn’t the right response.”

She moved now, breaking free and stepping between the men when Jonah moved forward. There was a gleam in his eye that worried her, like a flash of lightning against thin ice. “Don’t. Please.”

Anger wouldn’t have stopped him, nor would an order. But the plea in her eyes, the weariness in them, did. “Go back inside,” he said again, but quietly as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

“So that’s the way it is.” Dennis lifted bunched fists. “There’s nobody else. That’s what you told
me. No, there was nobody else. Just another lie. Just one more of your lies. You’ve been sleeping with him all along, haven’t you? Lying bitch.”

Jonah moved like a snake. She’d seen street fights before. Had broken up her share while in uniform. She only had time to swear and leap forward, but Jonah already had Dennis up against the wall.

“Stop it,” she said and grabbed his arm to try to pull him off. She might as well have tried to shove aside a mountain.

He shot her one steely look. “No.” He said it casually, like a shrug. Then he plowed his fist into Dennis’s belly. “I don’t like men who push women around or call them names.” His voice stayed cool and steady as he delivered a second blow. “I won’t tolerate it in my place. You got that?”

He let go, stepped back, and Dennis collapsed in a heap at his feet. “I think he got it.”

“Great. Wonderful.” While Dennis moaned, Ally pressed her fingers to her eyes. “You just gut-punched an assistant district attorney.”

“And your point would be?”

“Help me get him up.”

“No.” Before she could try to haul Dennis to his feet, Jonah took her arm. “He walked in on his own, he’ll walk away on his own.”

“I can’t leave him here, curled up like a damn shrimp on the pavement.”

“He’ll get up. Right, Dennis?” Elegant and unruffled in black, Jonah crouched down beside the groaning man. “You’re going to get up, you’re going to walk away. And you’re not going to come back here in this lifetime. You’re going to stay very far away from Allison. In fact, if you find out that by some mischance you’re breathing the same air, you’ll hold your breath and run in the opposite direction.”

Dennis struggled to his hands and knees, retched. Tears swam in his eyes, but behind them was a rage that drilled in his head like a diamond bit. “You’re welcome to her.” Pain radiated through him as he stumbled to his feet. “She’ll use you, then toss you aside. Just like she did me. You’re welcome to her,” he repeated, then limped away.

“Looks like you’re all mine now.” Jonah straightened, flicked fingers down his shirt as if removing some pesky lint. “But if you’re going to start using me, I’d prefer we do it inside.”

“It’s not funny.”

“No.” He studied her face, the shadowed eyes and the pity in them. “I can see that. I’m sorry. Why don’t you come inside, take a few minutes up in my office until you’re feeling steadier.”

“I’m okay.” But she turned away, dragged the clip out of her hair as if it were suddenly too tight. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“All right.” He put his hands on her shoulders, used his thumbs to press at the tension. “Take a minute anyway.”

“I hate having him touch me, and I feel lousy because I hate it. I don’t think it jeopardized the cover.”

“No. According to Pete, some dude walked in, you flipped and dragged him out.”

“Anybody asks, I’ll keep it close to the truth. Ex-boyfriend who’s hassling me.”

“Then stop worrying.” He turned her around. “And stop feeling guilty. You’re not responsible for other people’s feelings.”

“Sure you are, when you help make them. Anyway.” She lifted a hand to the one he still rested on her shoulder, patted it. “Thanks. I could have handled him, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her, drawing her close. He watched her lashes lower, her mouth lift to his. And was a breath away from tasting her when the light spilled over them.

“Oh. Sorry.” Frannie stood, framed in the door where kitchen noise clattered, a lighter in one hand, a cigarette at the ready in the other.

“No.” Ally broke away, furious with herself for forgetting her priorities. “I was just going back in. I’m already late.” She flicked one look at Jonah, then hurried back inside.

Frannie waited until the door swung shut, then stepped over to lean back against the wall. She flicked on her lighter. “Well,” she said.

“Well.”

She blew out smoke on a sigh. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Smart, too. It comes across.”

“Yeah.”

“Just your type.”

This time he angled his head. “You think so?”

“Sure.” The tip of her cigarette glowed as she lifted it to her lips. “Classy. Class shows. She suits you.”

It troubled him, more than he’d imagined it would, to dance around the truth with an old friend. “We’ll see how well we fit.”

Frannie moved a shoulder. But she’d already seen. They fit like lock and key. “Was there trouble with that suit?”

Jonah glanced in the direction Dennis had taken. “Nothing major. An ex who doesn’t like being an ex.”

“Figured it was something like that. Well, if it matters, I like her.”

“It matters, Frannie.” He walked to her, touched a hand to her cheek. “You matter, and always have.”