a special on television tonight that I wanted to see, but it comes on in ten minutes and I can’t be home by then. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here for a while. I can watch the special and keep you company for a bit…” He offered his best confidence-inducing smile. “If that’s okay with you.” He took off his jacket and tossed it across the foot of the bed.
Her attention flew to the holster clipped to his belt, becoming fixated on the handgun. A shiver darted up her spine and anxiety churned in the pit of her stomach, confirming what she already knew—she was in serious danger. She closed her eyes. The sound of the explosion and the vivid image of the burning car assaulted her senses. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the disturbing vision.
“Tara? Are you all right?”
His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes, her attention again riveted on the weapon, her thoughts telling her of the danger it represented. “Do you…uh…always carry a gun?”
“Yes. We’re issued a .357 magnum, but I prefer this 9mm semiautomatic. I find it more comfortable to carry and to use.”
“To use?” A knot of anxiety pulled tight in her stomach. “Do you have to use it often?”
“Occasionally.” A twinge in his shoulder gave a sharp reminder of the last time he’d needed to use it.
She pulled her attention away from the weapon, glancing around the room as she composed herself and tried to project a positive manner. “I didn’t mean to get off the subject. What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you minded my staying to watch a program on television. Maybe keep you company for a little while until you’re feeling more comfortable?”
“Uh…no, I don’t mind if you want to watch something on television. Go ahead.”
Tara retreated to the corner of the room, curling her legs under her as she sank into the large chair. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t concentrate on his conversation. She kept hearing the explosion over and over, the horror of pieces of metal flying through the air. The churning in her stomach drove a sick feeling up her throat. She knew it was a memory that would continue to haunt her the rest of her life however long—or short—that life might be.
She watched Brad as he sat on the end of the bed staring at the television, although he didn’t seem to really be watching the program. He appeared casual enough, as if he didn’t have any concerns, but the tight set of his jaw belied that. She could almost feel the tension pulling his muscles into knots. But in spite of that he radiated a sense of confidence that surpassed his take-charge attitude. A quick dash of irritation flitted through her. Confidence or not, his was still a take-charge attitude in which he gave orders and expected to have them obeyed without question. Although it was something quite different from the way Danny Vincent had tried to control her life.
A little shiver darted across her skin. Things were too confusing…too many strange things had happened in the past few weeks, and her totally unexpected phone call from Danny after all this time was definitely one of them. Again the image of her bombed car popped into her mind followed by the way Brad had taken control without hesitation. He had taken charge, but it was not a domineering type of thing. He had known exactly what to do and how to properly handle the situation.
A warm feeling replaced the shiver as she thought of his arm around her shoulder while they talked to the policeman. She had felt safe, at least for that moment. She studied his handsome features. A ripple of excitement invaded her senses, a sensation that started with a tingle deep inside and quickly spread through her body. Her life was in danger and her world had been thrown into turmoil. The last thing she should be thinking about was an attraction to a very desirable man.
She straightened in her chair in an effort to pull herself together. She didn’t want to show the depth of her fears to this very together—and extremely handsome—man. She certainly didn’t want him thinking she was some silly little twit who fell apart at the first sign of an unpleasant situation. With everything she’d been through since agreeing to testify, she should be able to take this in stride without any problem.
Another sigh of despair tried to work its way into the open. Testifying at a trial was not the same thing as having someone try to kill you. Her brave intentions did nothing to calm her fears. She knew she was only lying to herself.
Brad seemed to be alert to everything going on. Every time the sound of a car engine or car door invaded the room he was on his feet. He’d pretend he needed to stretch and would make his way to the window and peek out around the edge of the drapes. But in spite of his casual outer manner, it was obvious he was far from relaxed.
Then another memory flooded her consciousness—Brad’s body protectively covering hers when he had shoved her down behind the van in the restaurant parking lot. And then the tender kiss he had placed on her forehead. It was more than his having put his life on the line for her. A totally unexpected sensual rush had hit her like a ton of bricks. Brad Harrison was a very desirable man—handsome, confident and extremely sexy. He exuded the strong presence of someone who knew what he was doing and could be depended on in a crisis. There was something very reassuring about a man who had the ability to take control of a precarious situation.
Then another dark thought clouded her perception. Was his take-charge manner just one small step away from the controlling efforts of Danny and the domineering manipulations of her mother?
“I guess I’m a little too restless to stay with the television program.” Brad’s words drew her attention back to what he was doing. She watched as he stood and stretched his arms above his head, then behind his back.
He cocked his head and raised a questioning eyebrow. “How about you? You look comfortable enough, but your expression seems more worried than at ease…although I can certainly understand why.” He glanced down at the floor for a moment as if trying to collect his thoughts. “I know it’s of little use for me to tell you not to worry, but I’ll try it anyway. Please think positive, we’ll get through this and everything will turn out okay.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed the ice bucket from the table. “I noticed an ice maker and a vending machine a couple of doors down. I’ll get us some ice and a couple of soft drinks. Be right back. I’ll take the key so I can let myself in. Don’t answer the door if anyone knocks.” He opened the door and quickly scanned the parking lot before stepping outside.
The image of Tara curled up in the large chair had truly gotten to him. She looked too desirable. He wanted to pull her into his arms and move the few steps over to the bed. The urge needed to be dealt with, and walking out the door into the cool night air seemed to be the most expedient way of doing it. He took in a deep breath, then another. It helped clear his head a bit, but did not chase away the feelings. He filled the ice bucket, bought two soft drinks from the machine and quickly returned to the room.
When he stepped inside, he found her exactly where he had left her. “I hope this is okay. I didn’t think to ask you what kind you preferred.” He set two cans on the table, put ice in two glasses and opened one of the cans for himself.
“This is fine. Thank you.” Tara took the other can, poured the contents into the glass, but left it on the table without taking a drink.
He seated himself at the small table, maintaining a view of the door and window. “Tell me, Tara Ford—” he ran his fingertip around the rim of his glass, trying to project an easygoing manner that he hoped would calm her nerves “—how did you get mixed up in all this?”
“Don’t you
