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“I see,” he said again.
“Then the calls just abruptly stopped. I haven’t had one for several weeks now. My theory is that it was someone who was venting about something and the police involvement brought them to their senses. And now they’re over whatever was bugging them.”
“And your point is?”
She folded her hands on her desk. “I’m not an idiot. If I was the heroine in a bad B movie, I wouldn’t go outside to face the serial slasher without a well-equipped army. The police would be actively involved if there were a concrete threat. And let’s be clear, this harassment wasn’t even very original.”
“As harassment goes you’d prefer a horse’s head under your pillow?” he asked wryly.
“Very funny. You know what I mean. I’m no hero. If there was reason to be concerned, I’d have picked out my own bodyguard.”
One who looked nothing like Sam. A shorter guy with zero sex appeal and absolutely no animal magnetism.
“You’re a family law attorney, right?” he asked, lasering her with his blue-eyed gaze as he leaned forward and flattened his palms on her desk.
“Yes. Says so on the sign out front.”
“Then I’m sure you’re aware that domestic disturbance is the most volatile and deadly situation a cop faces.”
“Yes, but—”
“But, nothing. When families are involved, emotions run high.”
“And your point is?”
“Never underestimate anyone or anything. Ever.”
She stood, but still had to look up at him. “Good advice, Sam. I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks for stopping by. I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience my family caused you.”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re throwing me out?”
“Not literally.”
She couldn’t manage to stop herself from assessing the muscles straining the sleeves of his T-shirt. If they were arm wrestling, he’d take her easily. But this was her office, her turf—and she called the shots. She was giving him leave to leave.
It was a preemptive strike. He was good-looking enough to make her knees weak and had enough character to get between Bo Taggart and the woman he was attempting to grope. There could be a lot to like about this man, and thirty days joined at the hip could do her a lot of emotional damage. Assuming he stuck around that long.
She wasn’t willing to chance it.
She put her hand out. “Goodbye, Sam.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Not so fast, Counselor.”
Chapter Two
“Excuse me?” Jamie’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “‘Not so fast’? This is my office and I can do things at any speed I choose. And I choose for you to hit the road. Don’t let the door hit you in the fanny on the way out.”
“I’d like nothing better than to shake your hand, say, It’s been nice but I’ve got places to go and people to see, you should have a good life.”
“But?”
“But I can’t. And there are two very good reasons.” Sam watched her gaze narrow.
“Such as?”
“Number one—no matter how unfair it is, I’m under a court-mandated sentence to perform community service.”
“And number two?” she asked.
“Your parents believe there’s a threat to your safety.”
“My parents believe I’m at risk unless I’m with them or at home with padlocks on the doors and windows.”
Funny, he thought. Her parents had told him she’d be stubborn. And she was. But they’d neglected to mention that she was beautiful. And she definitely was.
Brunette curls brushed her shoulders and framed her oval face dominated by big hazel eyes with thick, dark lashes. She wasn’t very tall, maybe five-one or-two and slender, which tapped into the protective streak he tried to ignore. He’d protect her, but it wouldn’t get personal. And he didn’t even want to get started on the slight indentation in her chin that might be a shadow but begged for a more-thorough investigation. Exploration of that particular area, or any area for that matter, wasn’t going to happen.
He stared down at her. “If I learned anything as a cop, it’s not to take any threat too lightly.” The lesson had been costly. His best friend’s sister had paid with her life. If he made the mistake again, what happened to her would all have been a waste, and he could never find a way to live with that.
“Look, Sam, you’re right about my parents. They’re lovely, caring people. But if you’re their daughter, those qualities are a double-edged sword.”
“Oh?”
Here it comes, he thought. Lawyer spin. He folded his arms over his chest and rested a hip against her desk, settling in for the long haul. At least the view was good, he thought, letting his gaze trace the defined curves and fullness of her mouth.
She cleared her throat. “When I was a kid, I practically had to get a dispensation from the pope to go out on a date, and even then, until I was over eighteen, my father either came along or shadowed us in his car.”
“You don’t say.”
“Then I insisted on going away to college, thinking I’d leave and find some independence.”
“And you didn’t?”
“A little. But they rented an apartment near campus and one or both of them were there a lot of the time. If they didn’t have a restaurant to run, they’d probably have gone to class with me.” She sighed. “I adore my mother and father, but their meddling reached the saturation point. And I’m sure they’d have followed me to New York if they could have found a way.”
“New York?” He noticed something about her. A subtle change.
“After law school, I went to work for a firm in New York.” She shrugged. “It looks good on a résumé.”
Uh-huh. As a detective, he’d done more interviews than the Human Resources Department at a Fortune 500 company. He’d found body language as revealing as dialogue. And when Jamie mentioned moving to the Big Apple, a look in her eyes, tightening around her mouth, told him there was more to it than beefing up her work history. It was personal. And he wanted to know about the guy, but he let it go. For now.
Besides, she was preaching to the choir on this overprotective thing. As far as the Gibson family looking out for her, he was an innocent bystander who’d got sucked in. Well, maybe not lily-white innocent, but almost. He didn’t even care that the money paid for his community service was going for a good cause. He intended to do his time and get the hell out of town. No harm, no foul.
“Are you finished?” he asked. “With lawyers, sometimes it’s kind of hard to tell.”
“I could be.”
“How will I know?”
She picked up a pen and tapped it on the pile of papers in front of her. “Are you convinced my folks are overreacting and that I have no need for a bodyguard?”
“I’m convinced that your family went to considerable trouble and expense to make sure nothing happens to you for the next thirty days.”
“Okay, so you get it—”
He held up his hand and straightened to his full height. “I also know for a fact that I assured Roy and Louise that on my watch, I will do everything humanly possible to find out who’s harassing you.”
She stared at him for several moments. “Was I talking to myself? We don’t know there is anyone harassing me. So any investigation would be a waste of time.”
“But it’s the court’s time, purchased by your parents.”
“Without my knowledge or consent.”
She stood and stared him down—eye to eye. Well, not technically. He towered over her, but the glare she was giving him canceled out any height advantage.
“So, what we have here is a standoff,” she said.
“Stalemate. Deadlock, draw, impasse,” he agreed. “I’d say something’s gotta give.”
“I’m not going to blink.”
“Me, neither.”
She put her hands on her hips. “When this happens in court, we go to mediation.”
“I’m not going in front of Uncle Harry again, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Her mouth twitched as she fought a smile. “I was thinking we should go in front of my folks at the restaurant.”
“And do what?” he asked suspiciously.
“Get them to give you absolution. Release you from this obligation.”
It would be a waste of time. Jamie got her stubborn gene from one or both of them. He knew that because he’d tried to tell Roy and Louise he wasn’t the right man for this job. They refused to believe him after Hayden Blackthorn’s glowing reference. But he was getting nowhere here. So…
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay,” she agreed.
He waited for her to gather up her jacket, purse and briefcase before they left and locked her door. At the end of the hall a man stood in an office doorway.
“Jamie, are you leaving?”
“Hi, Al. Yeah. Something’s come up.”
Al considered Sam. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“Sam Brimstone,” Sam said, holding out his hand.
“Al Moore.”
The guy had up-and-comer written all over him. Young, good-looking, a firm aggressive handshake. And Sam didn’t like him.
“Al’s an attorney here at the firm,” Jamie explained.
“I thought we were firm friends, too.”
“Of course,” she said, shaking her head at his pun. “You’re always there for me.”
“Good to know.” He looked at Sam. “People make the job, and friendships are what make the long hours tolerable.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” she agreed.
Al grinned, the effects of his white strips so bright, Sam was tempted to whip out his shades. And again he picked up a whole lot of unspoken communication from body language and what Slick didn’t say. This guy wanted Jamie, and there was nothing friendly about it. Lust—pure and simple. It glowed in his eyes, and the tension was there in every muscle in his twenty-four-hour-fitness toned body.
Sam really didn’t like this guy.
It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. He barely knew Jamie, certainly not well enough to be jealous of her coworker. And he didn’t want to know her better because a detective should never get personal with a person involved in a case.
She looked at the watch on her wrist. “Well, we have to be going.”
Al slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored slacks. “So where are the two of you headed?”
“Dinner,” Sam said, putting his palm at the small of her back, the gesture intimate, but only to urge her forward.
The guy’s smile disappeared faster than you could say “teeth bleach,” and Sam felt a surge of satisfaction that told him he really had to work on that SOB thing. And he would. Real soon, he thought, escorting Jamie to the elevator.
Jamie drove to the restaurant with Sam on her tail in his sleek, black Mustang. They went into The Homestead through a back entrance, and she knew Sam was following her, this time on foot. Even if she hadn’t heard the heavy sound of his boots behind her, she could just feel him. His presence raised the hair on the back of her neck and tingles everywhere else. Back in her office, she’d sworn he was staring at her mouth. But she was probably wrong. He’d stopped in town to say hello to a friend, and her family had turned his life upside down. Why in the world would he be thinking about kissing her?
She turned a corner and poked her head into the room her folks used as an office. As usual, paperwork was scattered around the computer on each of the two desks facing each other from opposite walls. Two desks, two computers, and neither of her parents was anywhere in sight.
“They must be out front working,” she said.
“Do they always leave the back door unlocked?”
His body was so close behind her she could almost feel his chest against her back and the vibrations of his deep voice. There was no mistaking the disapproval in his tone.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Anyone could have walked in and helped themselves to anything in here, including the picture of you that your parents told me was stolen.”
“Even if it was locked, this place is so busy at lunch and dinnertime that it would be easy to slip back here unnoticed.”
“I need to have a talk with them about security.”
Before she could respond, there were footsteps in the hall. Sam moved farther into the room and stood beside her, just before her parents appeared in the doorway.
“Jamie.” Her mother held out her arms, and Jamie went into them.
