style="font-size:15px;"> “She was sad and lonely because her mother was taken away from her, for God’s sake!” Julia hissed at the implacable face only inches from hers. “You were responsible for that, Ross!”
“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.” His voice was ice. “She’s got a shot at a normal life. She wouldn’t have that, growing up with the woman who killed her father, her uncle and two innocent bystanders.”
“You keep forgetting something.” He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her parted lips, and she realized with a small shock that it had been years since there had been this little distance between her and a man. Julia thrust the thought aside and continued. “They had to let me go, Max. They couldn’t prove their case. I’m an innocent woman.”
“You got off on a technicality, Tennant!” As if she’d goaded him into action, he grasped her arms just above her elbows, and pulled her closer, obliterating the last few inches of space between them. His jaw was set and his grip on her felt like steel. “You got off, but that doesn’t mean you’re not guilty. The only innocent one in this whole damn mess is that little girl, and I intend to keep her safe—from you. Do we understand each other?”
She was vaguely aware of Melvin Dobbs, sitting frozenly a few feet away from them. But on a deeper, more visceral level, she suddenly felt as if nothing and no one had any solid reality except the man in front of her.
His grasp on her arms was tight enough that it should have been uncomfortable. Instead she felt ridiculously as if it was all that was keeping her from falling into a terrible void and plummeting to her own destruction. He was strong, she thought disjointedly, but his strength wasn’t merely a matter of muscle and sinew. It was a strength made up of conviction and a bedrock foundation of personal honor. He meant what he said. He cared enough about a child he hardly knew that he would go the limit to keep her safe.
Under different circumstances, she and Max Ross might have found themselves on the same side, she realized with a small shock. She would have liked that. He was a man a woman could count on.
And if she were honest with herself, in those alternate circumstances there might well have been more than just cooperation between them. Even now, facing each other as enemies, there was a suppressed undercurrent flowing beneath the surface of their anger and antagonism.
She distinctly remembered the first time she’d noticed him, although, as she’d learned during her trial, he’d been involved in the investigation from the first and had actually spoken with her an hour or so after the explosion on the night it had happened. She didn’t recall the encounter, but that was understandable. She’d been in shock those first few days, and then had come the nightmarish realization that the authorities saw her as their prime suspect. From then on her world had unravelled so swiftly she hadn’t taken in much of anything.
Besides, Max was the original invisible man. Obviously that was an asset in his line of work, and she supposed he’d cultivated that ability he had of unobtrusively melting into the background, but she still didn’t know how he did it. Granted, there was nothing about him that was jarringly noticeable, unless the casual observer happened to look directly into his eyes. They were a dark, clear green, and in the tan of his face they looked like chips of arctic ice. But his hair, dark brown and cut fairly short, was ordinary enough, and his features, although harder than the average, were regular.
Still, it seemed impossible that a big man with such a—she searched for the word—such a solid presence could go unnoticed in a crowd whenever he wanted to. Which meant that at her first remembered meeting with him, he’d wanted her to know he was there.
It had been on the first day of her trial, and she’d been walking into the courtroom when she’d become aware of him standing a few feet away. His gaze had been steady and assessing, his expression carefully blank, and she’d suddenly known that the privileged shield of wealth and beauty and social status that had protected her for so long had been ripped away from her. She hadn’t realized who he was at that point, but she knew that the man watching her didn’t see her as Julia Tennant, the attractive young widow of a wealthy and powerful man. Those green eyes had seemed to be looking straight through her, as if they were trying to read her very soul.
And even as he’d continued to stare at her, his attitude impersonally professional, she’d seen a hard edge of color rise up under the tan of his cheekbones. He’d turned away immediately, and during the rest of the trial he’d been careful not to meet her eyes again.
But as she’d told him in the coffee shop, she’d known he’d been watching her. And, if she were honest with herself, the undercurrent she was feeling right now had been there from the start, on her side as well as his.
Except that wouldn’t make any difference to him, she thought with renewed despair. Max Ross might have his alternate realities just as she did, and his might even be more urgent than hers, but even if they included sweat-soaked sheets, total satiation, and every dark desire he’d ever had, he would never let them interfere with real life.
He was the law. She was an ex-convict. They weren’t on the same side and never would be, as far as he was concerned.
She gave it one last try, knowing it was futile.
“She’s my daughter, Max.” Her voice was husky. Her gaze on his, she tried desperately to make him see it her way. “I love her—surely you believe that? Even if everything else you thought about me was true, you must know that I love her too much to ever put her in danger. I’m her mother. She needs me.”
Just for a second she thought she saw him waver, and her heart leapt. Then he shook his head and the irrational hope died.
“If you love her you’ll give her up, Julia.” His voice was as low as hers had been, and it had lost its edge. “What kind of a life could you give her, even if you did find her? Her aunt has legal custody of her now, and that would make you a fugitive. You and Willa would be on the run, never putting down roots, never being able to give her a secure home. Is that what you want for her?”
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he let go of her arms, and his own dropped to his sides. His eyes darkened with something that could have been compassion. “I think you’ll do the right thing, Julia. I think you’ll let her go.”
And looking at him, she knew with sudden despair that he was right.
Chapter Three
She was soaked to the skin, but that didn’t matter. Hunching her shoulders against the downpour, Julia dimly realized that she was shivering, but that too was unimportant. She kept walking. Despite having no real destination in mind, somehow it seemed to her that she was heading in the right direction.
Damn Max Ross. The unspoken epithet was automatic, with no heat behind it. Damn him for showing up, damn him for making sure she hadn’t gotten the information she’d wanted and damn him for what he’d said.
But most of all, damn him for knowing her better than she’d known herself.
“…on the run, never putting down roots, never being able to give her a secure home…is that what you want for her?”
She’d wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, that it wouldn’t be that way. She’d wanted to tell him that no matter what difficulties faced her, she could give her daughter a stable life, a happy childhood. She’d wanted to tell him all the lies she’d been telling herself. She’d looked into his eyes and she hadn’t been able to say any of it, because
