Unbridled

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Laney realized her father was waiting for an answer, so she shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I don’t feel I’m at any great risk.”

“Sounds like famous last words to me.”

She smiled. “God, I hope not. I didn’t get into this line of work to put my life at risk. If I had wanted to do that, I would have become a police officer.”

“Honest work.”

“Honest work that gets you shot in the ass.”

Blake laughed loudly and sat back, oblivious to the looks he got. “You know, you never did answer my question.”

“What question?” She pretended an interest in finishing her meal.

“You know very well what question. I heard you were in here with another man the other day. You know, the one when you canceled your luncheon date with me so you could conduct an emergency meeting on the MacGregor case.”

Laney frowned. “How could I forget how small this big city can be?”

How stupid! She should have known that word would get back to her father. Especially considering the interest that Carter had garnered. There were probably people in the room even now whom she might not know personally but who knew her father. And while none of them would openly gossip about Carter’s questionable appearance (it wasn’t the Texan thing to do), they would politely ask after him in a way that would get their unspoken meaning across.

“So are you planning to tell me?” her father asked again.

Laney shook her head. “No. Because he’s of no concern.”

And he wasn’t, was he? At least not to her father. She hadn’t heard from Carter since that day and was beginning to accept the fact that she might not. Which meant that there was zero chance that she’d ever introduce him to her father.

She caught herself wistfully fingering the hair at the nape of her neck and stopped, smiling at her father, who watched her curiously.

“I see,” he said.

She opened her mouth to ask him what he saw, then thought better of it. She knew not to ask her father anything she wasn’t ready to hear the answer to.

“Anyway, my love life is dismally boring compared to yours,” she said, lobbing the conversation back in his direction.

His expression shifted as if to say, “That’s more like it,” and he chuckled. “At least you’re admitting to having a love life.”

She didn’t. But despite Carter’s silence, she held out a slim hope that might change.

LANEY USUALLY TOOK the McKinney Avenue tram back and forth to work. It was convenient and fast. But in this heat, it also meant that she’d be soaked with sweat before she got to the office. So she’d taken to driving.

If her new habit had anything to do with the threatening note she’d received, she wasn’t saying.

Besides, if she didn’t drive to work, when else would she get to enjoy her Infiniti hybrid? The luxury vehicle was designed to please, and she liked being behind the wheel, feeling in control of her world as the city buildings loomed outside her windows.

She pressed the elevator button to take her to the garage level and then looked at her watch. After seven. Most everyone else in the company had gone home for the day. As usual, she’d let time get away from her while working out the MacGregor defense, and when she’d finally looked up, the sun was a huge, orange ball on the western horizon.

The bell dinged and the elevator doors opened. She stepped out, her footsteps echoing in the nearly empty chamber. She slowed, giving a little shiver and gripping her briefcase more tightly. If need be, she could use it as a weapon.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. And just who, exactly, was she expecting to accost her? The janitor with a broom demanding she hand over her thousand-dollar Jimmy Choos?

She was tired, that’s all. And the lack of sleep was amplifying the fear that lingered in the wake of that threatening note. She didn’t have anything to worry about. She hadn’t committed any crime. Wronged anyone else. She was merely defending her innocent client.

And she did believe that Devon MacGregor was innocent, didn’t she? While she didn’t think she was an expert, she considered herself a pretty good judge of human behavior. And Devon MacGregor’s pleas for her to believe him and the supporting, if meager, evidence told her that her client had been wrongfully accused.

Which meant that the real culprit was still out there somewhere.

God. Of course. That was it. Whoever had committed the crimes was probably very interested in letting Devon serve the time for them.

The thought had crossed her mind before, but she’d dismissed it. She wasn’t interested in pointing the finger at anyone else, merely turning the fingers pointing at her client away from him.

The elevator dinged and she jumped.

Okay, she really needed to get a grip.

Still, she looked over her shoulder, watching to see who got out.

No one did.

The elevator doors slid shut again.

Now, that wasn’t a figment of her imagination. That was just downright creepy.

Palming her key ring, she picked up her pace. Only a hundred feet separated her from her car. She kept to the middle of the floor, away from shadowy pillars, her gaze darting around for any activity. At this time of day there was none. Her quickened footsteps seemed to taunt her. She considered lightening her footfalls so she could hear if there were others. At this rate, she wouldn’t hear a car engine above the sound of her own heartbeat.

She turned the corner and someone stepped out of the shadows. She cried out and swung her briefcase, simultaneously trying to figure out the safest escape route. The stranger was between her and her car, so that was out. It was a long way back to the elevator and the stairs. The closest route was the spiraling ramp leading out onto the street.

“Whoa.”

A man’s voice. A familiar man’s voice.

She stared into Carter Southard’s handsomely surprised face when he righted himself after ducking.

“Jesus,” Laney said, leaning her hand against the trunk of her car. “What are you trying to do? Scare the spirits out of me?”

He reached out and took her briefcase from her other hand, setting it closer to the car door. “Was that the best you could do? Swing your bag?”

Laney managed to get her breathing under control and stood straight. “You mean you were deliberately trying to frighten me? To see what I would do?”

He grinned. “No. I wasn’t. But in hindsight, I suppose my stepping out like that probably wasn’t the smartest move.”

“You can say that again.”

“I think once is enough.”

“Funny. Very funny.” Laney rubbed her arms. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

He tucked his hands into his front jeans pockets. “I wanted to get you that information I promised. Sorry it’s so late. But I told my neighbor that I’d help him repair his fence. Turned into a two-day job and I just finally knocked off.” He glanced toward the elevator. “I figured you as the workaholic type, so I thought it was a pretty good bet you’d still be here. And since the lobby was closed, this was my best chance for entry.”

“Yes, well,” she said, looking around at shadows that didn’t seem as sinister with Carter at her side. “I’ll have to have a talk with management about this.”

“Might be a good idea. At least they could make sure the parking attendant doesn’t think sleeping with his feet up on the counter is part of his job description.”

“How did you know this was my car?”

“Educated guess.” He gestured toward the luxury vehicle. “But that’s not what drew me over this way. I’d planned to come up to the office.”

She grimaced at him as he stepped to the side, revealing the flat front tire.

“Great,” she said, exasperated, wondering if her auto service could gain access to the garage.

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Carter said, “if the other tire wasn’t flat, too. One flat tire, fate. Two? Someone wanted to make it difficult for you to get home tonight.”

Laney slowly walked toward the front of the car, considering the damage.

“See that,” Carter said, pointing to the sidewall. “Looks like a knife slash.”

Laney shuddered, feeling as if a knife-wielding stranger was in front of her instead of long gone.

“What’s this?” she said.

She leaned forward, spotting a note under the wiper, not unlike the one she’d received in the mail a couple of days ago. She pulled it out.

“Drop the MacGregor case. Now.” Next to the words was the number two.

“That doesn’t look good to me,” Carter said, his voice low and gravelly. “That doesn’t look good to me at all.”

Chapter Six

AN HOUR LATER, the police had come and gone, assuring her that the detective who had taken her earlier report would be informed of the latest development; Laney’s tires had been replaced by her auto service, and Carter stood facing her once again, blessedly alone. And without a briefcase being swung at his head.

He resisted the desire to reach out and push back a few strands of errant hair. Aw, hell, who was he kidding? He’d never been the best at restraint, and he saw no real benefit in starting now. She appeared shaken, in need of protection. Yet just under the surface shone hard steel, telling him that she was much stronger than she looked. It would take more, much more, than a couple of threatening notes to knock her over.

Laney looked down but didn’t pull away as he rubbed the baby-soft strands of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. Then he brushed them away from her milky cheek and tucked them behind her ear, wondering at the delicate shell and the sight of his dark hand against her light skin.

“Thanks for staying,” she said quietly. “I really appreciate it.” She briefly bit the side of her bottom lip and looked around, apparently still seeing ghosts. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to spend another minute more than I have to in this garage.”

Carter smiled. “I understand.” He gestured to his bike. “Let me follow you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said a little too quickly, then her gaze lingered on his. “Really, it isn’t. I don’t think I’ll be finding another note tonight.” She looked into the cavernous depths of the garage. “At least I hope not.”

“I’d feel better if I saw you home. Where do you live?”

She told him. He raised a brow at the downtown address. He’d expected something in one of the swanky Texas subdivisions. Not that Dallas didn’t boast more than a few high-rent condos downtown, but somehow he figured her for an estate development.

“Apartment building?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Front doorman?”

“Yes. And closed-circuit cameras and the latest in security.”

That made him feel better. At least marginally. “Good. But let’s get you there first. Have you had anything to eat?”

“What? Um, no.”

He opened the driver’s door of her car, indicating that she should climb in.

“Lead the way,” he said.

WOULD HE WANT to come in? Laney wondered. Did she dare invite him up?

Her palms grew damp against the steering wheel. The classical station her car radio was tuned in to was failing to capture her attention. She drifted into the opposite lane twice since she was more focused on watching Carter in her rearview mirror than on the road in front of her.

Only an hour ago, she had thought he was gone from her life, that he had no plan to follow up on his request for help. Then he’d appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the socks off her.

Now he was following her on his Harley, looking particularly hot in his snug black T-shirt and sunglasses, his longish dark hair blowing in the wind. Knowing a bit about his military background, he could have been out for a ride or on his way to the front line.

The thought of him looking after her like this made her hot, and she squeezed her thighs together.

When was the last time she’d felt this way? Had she ever felt this way? She couldn’t say. What she did know was that none of the suited, professional men she’d briefly dated over the past couple of years had made her mouth go this dry. And her heart beat in an uneven rhythm in her chest at the thought that the man on the motorcycle wanted her.

Of course, part of her response could be attributed to her tires being slashed. The violent act had opened her eyes to the seriousness of the threat in a way the first note had not.

Still, she couldn’t think about that now. She seemed utterly incapable of thinking about anything but the man behind her.

She pulled in front of her apartment building and began to roll down her window. To thank him or invite him up—she wasn’t sure which. Instead, he took the decision out of her hands by offering a brief wave and roaring down the street.

Interesting…

Okay, maybe this unpredictability wasn’t as attractive as she’d first thought. She’d never considered he would merely drive off.

Laney watched the back of his bike. Despite her disappointment, she couldn’t help thinking he looked as good going as he did coming. She reluctantly got out of her car, deciding to ask the doorman to arrange for the Infiniti to be parked in the underground garage. She didn’t have the stomach right now to do it herself.

A short time later, she’d showered and was in her robe in her penthouse apartment, considering the contents of her refrigerator, when the apartment intercom buzzed.

“Yes, Roger?” she asked the front doorman.

There was a pause, making her wonder if something else had happened.

“Sorry to bother you, Ms. Cartwright, but there’s a Mr. Southard here to see you.”

Roger’s pause hadn’t been reluctance to share bad news, but grudging acceptance that he’d have to introduce a man who must look incredibly out of place in the upscale lobby.