throat were the most comforting thing she’d felt in a very long time. So was the way he looked at her, as if he was deeply concerned. As if she mattered.
His body was close, so close she could have moved a fraction of an inch and let him support her. Tempting. God, so tempting.
But that would be weak, and one thing Danielle refused to be was weak.
Nick brushed up against her. He put his mouth to her ear, eliciting a shiver at the feel of his breath fluttering her hair. “I take it you’re in some deep shit?”
He smelled good, pure male, she thought inanely. His hair curled over his ear so that her breath disturbed the strands. He felt warm and solid, and she wanted to press closer.
Why was she noticing such things at a time like this?
“Danielle?”
“You…might say that I’m in a tad bit of trouble,” she whispered.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story.” She didn’t want to tell him how pathetic she’d been to have had her entire life taken away from her. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to call out and announce her presence. Any self-respecting citizen would.
“Did you hurt anyone?”
Her eyes flew open. “No!”
“Commit murder?”
“God, no!”
“Okay.” He put his mouth to her ear again. “Whatever they think you did do, are you innocent?”
This time his lips touched the sensitive skin just beneath her ear, and another shiver wracked her frame. A shiver he must have taken for fear because he ran a hand down her arm.
“No,” she managed, blinking up at him because he wasn’t betraying her. Why wasn’t he betraying her? “I’m not innocent. But I only did it to protect—”
“Hello?” the officer called out again, sounding unmistakably annoyed.
“Coming!” Nick looked at her for another long heartbeat before closing his eyes briefly, muttering something about being a damn, sentimental fool. “Where did you park your car?”
“It’s not mine, it’s my friend’s. Down the street and around the corner. There wasn’t any free parking out front and I didn’t have change—”
“Thank God for small favors. Get in the closet. Sadie, too.” He opened it, put those hands of his on her hips to guide her in.
“Wait.” She resisted his hands when she really wanted to close her eyes and whimper at the feel of them on her. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I do fine in that area all on my own, thanks. Now get in.”
“I don’t need your help, Nick.”
“I hate to argue, but it would appear you do. Again.”
Yeah. Again. God, that burned. Especially when her pride was all she had left. For a moment, she almost wished he was a perfect stranger, that they had nothing in their past to give them this odd, inexplicable connection she didn’t understand and didn’t want. “I can do this myself.”
“How? By running out the back door and hoping they don’t hear you? Get in,” he urged, pushing her in the closet. Leaning in after her, he squinted into the dark. “You okay in here for a few?”
That he would take the time to ask nearly broke her. But she gathered up every last dollop of inner strength she had and nodded as if she did this every day.
Nick turned to Sadie. “You too, dog.” Apparently unwilling to push the dog in, he waited to be obeyed.
Drooling, Sadie studied the wall.
“Get in,” he repeated, cautiously reaching out with his foot to gently shoo her in.
Sadie leapt as if he’d tried to kill her.
Nick looked as startled as the dog. “Hey, just get in the damn closet.”
“Here,” Danielle said quickly, pulling Sadie in herself, letting out an oomph as the nervous dog sat her considerable weight in Danielle’s lap.
“Don’t make any noise,” Nick commanded in a hushed tone. And then he was gone.
Danielle sat there in the dark with her one-hundred-fifty-pound baby. In her life she’d been in some pretty tight and uncomfortable situations, but this…this definitely took the cake. “We’ll be okay,” she said softly.
Sadie turned in her lap, nearly breaking her legs in the process, pressing her warm, wet nose into Danielle’s neck. Four paws shifted up and down in nervous excitement, wondering when the games began.
“This isn’t fun time,” Danielle whispered. “Shh, now.”
But Sadie was convinced it was a game, and got herself all wound up, which meant more drooling, more rustling, more frantic maneuvers on Danielle’s part to calm down the young dog. “I know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Sadie’s bulky neck. “I know, I know. You want to play, but hang on.”
Her legs were killing her, strained with the weight of the heavy, overgrown puppy, but there was little room to shift in the loaded closet. Still, she managed to lay back, scooting over to give Sadie enough room so that she could get off her lap.
Marginally better. She had no idea what she was stretched out over, but it was actually quite comfortable, soft and pliable, and she relaxed slightly.
Finally getting the message that it was quiet time, Sadie cuddled up beside her.
It was so dark. She could hear Nick’s voice, could hear the policeman’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. A wide yawn escaped her. She had hardly slept in days, and she felt it now, in every ache of her body, in her fuzzy—and quickly getting fuzzier—thoughts.
Don’t fall asleep, she told herself, though Sadie already had. Her deep, steady snores mocked Danielle’s exhaustion.
Counting didn’t help. Neither did thinking of the mess her life had become.
Nick. She’d think of Nick. He had a smile on him, a smile that went all the way to his eyes. Ted hadn’t smiled like that, as if he really meant it.
Why had she never noticed that before?
Nick had a voice on him, too, she was listening to it now as he talked to the officer. In her not-too-distant past, she might have fallen for a voice and a smile like his, but not now. Falling meant trusting, and she just didn’t have it in her to do that, not ever again.
“It’ll be okay,” she whispered to her sleeping dog. Somehow it would, and she curled up and closed her eyes.
SERGEANT ANDERSON EYED the photo studio reception area, his sharp eyes missing nothing, but thankfully, there was nothing to see.
Not
