Night Shield Page 13

  “Now you know. Maybe we can start from here.”

  “Maybe.” Beth pulled out her pencil and began to write.

  * * *

  Ally ordered a light meal at the bar and kept her eye on Jonah. His Friday-night crowd was thick and they were rowdy. The longer she sat, watching, listening, the more she began to see the myriad problems of keeping him safe.

  She saw just as many problems convincing him he needed to make adjustments in his lifestyle until Matthew Lyle was in custody.

  Because she considered herself on duty, she stuck with coffee. And when the caffeine started to jiggle her system, switched to bottled water.

  When the inactivity threatened to drive her mad, she informed Frannie she was going to help out with the bar tables and grabbed a tray.

  “I believe I fired you,” Jonah said as she hauled a tray of empties to the bar.

  “No, you didn’t. I quit. House draft and a bump, Pete, Campari and soda, Merlot with ice on the side and the complimentary ginger ale for the designated driver.”

  “You got it, Blondie.”

  “Go upstairs, get off your feet. You’re tired.”

  Ally merely narrowed her eyes at Jonah’s orders. “Pete, this guy’s making insulting remarks about my looks. And he just put his hand on my butt.”

  “I’ll break his face for you, honey, just as soon as I have a free hand.”

  “My new boyfriend here has biceps like oil tankers,” Ally warned Jonah and executed a stylish hair flip. “So you better watch your step, pretty boy.”

  He grabbed her chin, lifted her to her toes by it, then kissed her until her eyes threatened to roll back in her head. “I’m not paying you,” he said mildly and strolled away.

  “I’d work for that kind of tip,” the woman on the stool beside her commented. “Anytime, anywhere.”

  “Yeah.” Ally let out a long breath. “Who wouldn’t?”

  She worked through last call, then grabbed a table in the club and put her feet up while the band broke down and the staff prepared for closing.

  And sitting, fell asleep.

  Jonah sat across from her while the club went quiet.

  “Anything I can do for you before I head out?”

  He glanced up at Will. “No. Thanks.”

  “Guess she’s worn-out.”

  “She’ll bounce back.”

  “Well …” Will jiggled the change in his pockets. “I’m just going to have my nightcap, then head home. I’ll see Frannie off and lock up. See you tomorrow.”

  The man was sunk, was all Will could think as he walked back to the bar. Who could’ve figured it? The man was sunk, and over a cop.

  “A cop.” Will slid onto a stool. On cue, Frannie set down his nightly brandy. “The man’s hooked on the cop.”

  “You just clued into that?”

  “I guess.” He tugged on his beard. “You think it’ll work out?”

  “I’m no judge of romantic relationships. They look good together, though, and they won’t be able to run over each other since both of them have heads like bricks.”

  “She conked out in there.” Will jerked his head toward the club, then sipped his brandy. “He’s just sitting, watching her sleep. I think you can mostly tell what’s going on in a man by the way he watches a woman.”

  And because he caught himself watching Frannie as she mopped up the bar, he flushed and stared down at his drink as if the brandy suddenly contained the solution to a very complex problem.

  But she caught it. This time she caught it because she was looking for it. She continued to wipe the bar dry as she inventoried her reaction. A nice little tug, she realized, and just a little heat to go with it.

  She hadn’t felt—or hadn’t let herself feel—either for a man in a very, very long time.

  “I guess you’re heading home,” she said casually.

  “I guess. You?”

  “I was thinking about ordering a pizza and watching this horror-movie marathon on cable.”

  He smiled over at her. “You always had a thing for monster movies.”

  “Yeah. Nothing like giant tarantulas or bloodsucking vampires to chase away your troubles. Still … It’s not a lot of fun by myself. You up for it?”

  “Up for—” Brandy sloshed over the rim of his snifter and onto her clean bar. “Sorry. Damn. I’m clumsy.”

  “No, you’re not.” She slid the cloth over the spilled brandy, then looked him dead in the eye. “Do you want to split a pizza with me, Will, and watch old black-and-white monster movies, and neck on my sofa?”

  “I— You—” He’d have gotten to his feet if he could have felt them. “Are you talking to me?”

  She smiled, spread her cloth over the rim of the bar sink. “I’ll get my jacket.”

  “I’ll get it.” He pushed to his feet, relieved when they held him upright. “Frannie?”

  “Yes, Will?”

  “I think you’re beautiful. I just wanted to say that right out in case I’m too nervous later and forget.”

  “If you forget later, I’ll remind you.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Good. I’ll get your jacket,” he said and, leaving her grinning, dashed off.

  Jonah waited until the club was empty, until he heard Will and Frannie call out their good nights. He rose, leaving Ally sleeping as he checked the locks and alarms himself. His heels clicked on the silver floor as he crossed it to go backstage. He chose the light pattern and music loop that suited his mood and set them.

  Satisfied, he went back to Ally and, bending down, kissed her awake.

  She floated to the surface on the taste of him. Warm, a little rough and very ready. When she opened her eyes, it was as though a thousand stars were twinkling against the night.

  “Jonah.”

  “Dance with me.” His mouth continued to nibble on hers as he lifted her to her feet.

  She already was. Before the clouds cleared from her brain, she was moving with him, body molded to body as music rippled around them.

  “The Platters.” She stroked her cheek against his. “That’s so weird.”

  “You don’t like it? I can put on something else.”

  “No, I love it.” She angled her head to give his lips freer access to her neck. “This number, it’s my parents’ song. ‘Only You.’ You know my mother was a night-shift DJ at KHIP before she was station manager there. This is the song she played over the radio for my father the night she agreed to marry him. It’s a nice story.”

  “I’ve heard pieces of it.”

  “You should see the way they look at each other when they dance to this. It’s beautiful.”

  She dipped her fingers into his hair as they glided over the stars in the floor. “Very smooth,” she whispered. “You’re very smooth, Blackhawk. I should’ve figured it.” She turned her head on his shoulder, watched the lights gleam. “Is everyone gone?”

  “Yes.” There’s only you, he thought, brushing his lips over her hair. Only you.

  Chapter 10

  For the first time in weeks Ally woke without the need to jump out of bed and rush into the day.

  Glorious Sunday.

  Since Saturday night at Blackhawk’s had been more crowded than the night before, she’d spent most of the time on her feet, and all of it mentally on duty.

  Jonah might have shrugged off the guards outside the club, but she didn’t think he’d take having her standing as his shield quite so casually.

  Some things were best left undisclosed and undiscussed.

  Besides, they were doing each other a favor. She couldn’t stay in her apartment until it was cleaned out and refurnished. He was giving her a comfortable place to stay, and she was giving him a bodyguard. To her, it was a fair and rational deal.

  And the deal had a distinctively superior side benefit. Intent on indulging in it, she ran her hand over his chest and began to nibble on the body she was more than happy to shield and protect.

  He shot awake, fully aroused, with her mouth hot and gree
dy on his.

  “Let me. Let me.” Exhilarated, she chanted it, already straddling him, already riding. She hadn’t known her blood could leap so fast, that her own needs could bolt from lazy to desperate in one hammer beat of the heart.

  She took him in, surrounded him, her own body shuddering and bowing back as the sharp claws of pleasure raked her.

  He kept the bedroom dark. It was all shadows and movement as he reared up to wrap his arms around her. Possession. It drove them both. He found her mouth, her throat, her breast, fed the hunger she’d unleashed in him before he could think, before he could do anything but feel.

  Her release came like a whiplash, snapping and slicing the system. And when she melted against him, he laid her back. Began to love her.

  A kiss, soft as the shadows. A touch, tender as the night. When she reached for him, he took her hands, cupping them together and bringing them to his lips in a gesture that had something rich, something sumptuous, sliding through her to tangle with needs still raw.

  “Now let me.”

  This was different. This was patient and sweet and slow. A fire banked and left to simmer with light.

  She yielded herself, a surrender as powerful as seduction. He was murmuring to her, quiet words that stirred the soul even as he stirred her blood. As her breathing thickened she floated on the thin and delicate layers of silky sensations.

  The brush of his fingertips, of his hair, the warmth of his lips, the glide of his tongue urged her higher, gradually higher. As the rise of desire became a deep and liquid yearning that spread to an aching need, she moaned his name.

  He slid her over the first satin edge.

  He needed to touch her this way, to take her this way. He needed, at least in the shadows, to have the right to. Here, she could belong to him.

  Her arms came around him as he sank into a kiss, took it deep, fathoms deeper, until he was lost in it. And lost, he slipped inside her, held there linked, and desperately, helplessly, in love.

  When at last they lay quiet, she turned her face into his throat, wanting the taste of him to linger just a little longer. “No, don’t move,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

  Her body was gold, pulsing gold. She would have sworn even the dark had gilt edges.

  “It’s still night.” She stroked her hands down his back, up again. “As long as we’re like this, it’s still night.”

  “It can be night for as long as you want.”

  Her lips curved against him. “Just a little longer.” She sighed again, content to hold and be held. “I was going to get up and use your equipment, but then … well, there you were, and it just seemed like a much better idea to use you.”

  “Good thinking.” He closed his eyes and kept her close.

  * * *

  She let the morning slide away, enjoyed a fast, hard workout with him in his gym while they argued over sports highlights that flashed by on the portable TV.

  They shared a breakfast of bagels and coffee, along with the Sunday paper, while spread out lazily in bed. Natural, normal, almost-domestic habits, Ally thought as they dressed for the day.

  Not that a man like Blackhawk could or should be domesticated. But a slow, uncomplicated Sunday morning was a nice change of pace.

  She sat on the side of the bed and laced up her ancient high-tops. Jonah tugged on a T-shirt, studied the endless line of her legs.

  “Is your plan to wear those little shorts to distract me from whipping your excellent ass on the court?”

  She lifted both eyebrows. “Please. With my innate skill I don’t need such pitiful ploys.”

  “Good, because once I start a game, nothing distracts me until my opponent is crushed.”

  She stood, rolled strong shoulders shown to advantage in the sleeveless jersey. “We’ll see who’s crushed, Blackhawk, when the buzzer sounds. Now, are you going to stand around here bragging, or are you ready to rock and roll?”

  “More than ready, Detective Honey.”

  She waited until they were in his car. She thought the timing best. Besides, the longer she waited to bring it up, the shorter amount of time he’d have to argue with her.

  Casually, she stretched out her legs and prepared to enjoy the ride. And smirked, just a little, when she saw his gaze shift and slide down the length of her legs.

  “So, are you ever going to let me drive this machine?”

  Jonah switched on the engine. “No.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Then buy your own Jag. Where’s the court where you want to go down in inglorious defeat?”

  “You mean where’s the court where I plan to beat you into a whimpering pulp of humiliation? I’ll give you directions. Of course, if I were driving, I could just take us there.”

  He merely flicked her a pitying glance, then slipped on his sunglasses. “Where’s the court, Fletcher?”

  “Out near Cherry Lake.”

  “Why the hell do you want to shoot hoops way out there? There are a half-dozen gyms around here.”

  “It’s too nice a day to play indoors. Of course, if you’re afraid of a little fresh air …”

  He reversed and drove out of the parking lot.

  “What do you do besides use that gorgeous equipment in your apartment over the club when you have a free day?” she asked him.

  “Catch a game, check out a gallery.” He sent her a slow smile. “Pick up women.”

  She tipped down her own sunglasses, peered at him over the top. “What kind of game?”

  “Depends on the season. If it’s got a ball or a puck, I’ll probably watch it.”

  “Me, too. I’ve got no resistance. What kind of gallery?”

  “Whatever appeals at the time.”

  “You’ve got some great art. In the club and in your apartment.”

  “I like it.”

  “So … What kind of women?”

  “The easy kind.”

  She laughed and tucked her glasses back in place. “You calling me easy, ace?”

  “No, you’re work. I like a change of pace now and again.”

  “Lucky me. You’ve got a lot of books,” she commented. She studied his profile, the sexy, angular lines of it, the way the dark glasses concealed the fascinating contrast of those eyes of pure, light green. “It’s hard to picture you curling up with a good book.”

  “Stretching out,” he said, correcting her. “Women curl up with books, guys stretch out.”

  “Oh, I see. That’s entirely different. This is your exit coming up. You’ll take the two-two-five. And watch your speed. The traffic cops just love to nail pretty boys like you in their hot cars.”

  “I have pull in the police department.”

  “You think I’m going to fix a ticket for you when you won’t even let me drive this thing?”

  “It so happens I know the police commissioner.”

  As soon as he said it, it clicked.

  “You said out in Cherry Lake?”

  “That’s right.”

  He got off at the first exit and pulled into a convenience store parking lot.

  “Problem?”

  “Your family lives in Cherry Lake.”

  “That’s right. And they have a basketball court—well, half-court. It was all we could push my parents into, even though my brothers and I campaigned pretty hard. They also have a barbecue pit, which my father puts to very good use. We try to get together a couple Sundays a month.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to your parents’?”

  She recognized the tone: anger, ruthlessly tethered. “What difference does it make?”

  “I’m not intruding on your family.” He shoved the car into reverse again. “I’ll drop you off. You can get a ride back when you’re done.”

  “Hold on.” She reached over, switched off the ignition. If he was angry, fine, they’d fight. But she’d be damned if he’d freeze her out. “What do you mean intruding? We’re going to shoot some baskets, eat some steak. You don’t need an en
graved invitation.”

  “I’m not spending Sunday afternoon with your family.”

  “With a cop’s family.”

  He pulled his sunglasses off, tossed them aside. “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then what does? I’m good enough to sleep with, but I’m not good enough for this?”

  “That’s ridiculous.” He shoved out of the car, stalked to the end of the lot and stared out on a narrow grassy area.

  “Then tell me something that isn’t ridiculous.” She marched up to him, jabbed his shoulder. “Why are you so angry that I want you to spend a few hours with my family?”

  “You conned me into this, Allison. That’s first.”

  “Why should I have to con you into it? Why is it, Jonah, that you’ve known my father for more than half your life, but you’ve never accepted a single invitation to our home?”

  “Because it’s his home, and I have no place there. Because I owe him. I’m sleeping with his daughter, for God’s sake.”

  “I’m aware of that. So is he. What? Do you think he’s going to dig out his police issue and shoot you between the eyes when you walk in the door?”

  “This isn’t a joke. It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?”

  Here’s the heat, she thought, pumping.

  “Everything was always just right in your world. Solid, balanced and steady. You have no idea what mine was before he came into it, and what it would be now if he hadn’t. This is not the way I intend to pay him back.”

  “No, you pay him back by insulting him. By refusing to acknowledge your relationship with me, as if it was something to be ashamed of. You think I don’t know what your life was like? You think my world was so rarefied, Blackhawk. I’m the daughter of a cop. There’s nothing you’ve seen I haven’t, through his eyes. And now my own.”

  She drilled a finger in his chest. “Don’t you talk up to me, and don’t you talk down. Wherever, however each of us started, we’re on level ground now. And