An Inner Fire (13 page)

“Of course, he wanted to kill me. He was crazed. It wasn’t personal. Who knows what twisted thoughts drove him to attack me. Maybe he didn’t like the shirt I had on or I reminded him of the father he’s always hated. It’s never logical.”

She shook her head back and forth. Her ponytail had come undone, a lock of blonde hair dangled in front of her ear. He wanted to press the hair back, tuck it behind her perfectly formed ears, and feel the smooth silk. Gentle, sweet Grayce, worried for his safety. A strong, compassionate woman caring for him stirred something deep, unrecognizable. His lungs did a hitch, or maybe it was his heart.

“You look tired. Let’s get out of these damn uncomfortable chairs. Let me walk you home.”

“Davis, someone wants to harm you. You need to be on your guard.”

Her warning stirred the hairs on his neck. The threat ran down his spine. Suddenly, a sense of dread lingered in their little corner. He must really be tired, too. He was beginning to pick up on Grayce’s worries.

“Mitzi senses it too.” Grayce leaned forward. “You’ve told me how Mitzi is tense, on alert.”

“And you told me Mitzi was picking up on my tension from the investigation. You said dogs can pick up on their owner’s feelings.”

“It’s true. Animals are conduits for their owner’s emotions. It’s different with Mitzi. I can’t explain but she and I…”

“I see how attached Mitzi is to you. She doesn’t even like women.”

“There is more to it.” Her face was as white as the tablecloth, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed.

“Grayce, you’re exhausted. You had a big week, your trip to LA. You need to get some rest. I’m going to take you home.”

“I am tired, but something is wrong. When I’m with you and Mitzi, I experience overwhelming sensations. I know you’re in danger.”

He pulled both her hands back into his, he had to touch her. “Grayce, you’re absolutely right. I’m in danger, but not from that thug.”

Her whole body stiffened. “Someone else has threatened you?”

He squeezed her hands and gazed into her eyes, trying to communicate his need for her. “Yes, there is a person who is a threat to me.”

She gasped. “Who?”

“Mitzi is probably tense when you see her because I’m tense. Not from the investigation but from trying to deny what is between us. Don’t you know when we’re together the room vibrates? All those sensations you’re feeling are between us.”

“What?”

He didn’t usually have to convince women they were attracted to him. Grayce definitely needed some convincing, judging by the astonishment in her voice.

“All the strain is us trying to ignore what’s happening.”

“You think everything I’m feeling is…is an attraction between us?”

By the shock on her face, Grayce wasn’t driven by desire for him.

“I’m very drawn to you, Grayce. Didn’t you know?”

“No, I…no, I didn’t know…I thought you…I don’t know what I thought.”

He moved his chair back. He shouldn’t be declaring himself, pushing her tonight. She was exhausted, and he didn’t want to blow his chances. “Come on I’ll walk you home.”

She reached across the table, touching him gently as he had seen her do to Mitzi. “Davis, I’m…”

“Don’t worry, my feelings aren’t hurt.” At least, not that he would admit. “I’m going to give you time to realize what a wonderful guy I am.” He liked a challenge and convincing Grayce Walters was going to be a challenging pleasure.

* * *

Grayce nearly bolted from the cramped corner and the pressure of trying to explain herself to Davis. Once outside, she filled her lungs with the damp autumn air. She had tried to tell him. Instead, they now walked side-by-side, hips and hands brushing in the most tantalizing way.

“Grayce you’re getting that worried look.” He took her hand, enfolding it in his. The hard edges of his face were softened in the shadows of the street lights and the gray mist.

She had allowed him to misunderstand. He thought she was concerned about their relationship. He was right—she was attracted to him, but not because he exuded male pheromones that had women buzzing around him like yellow jackets at a barbeque. But because the big macho man wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about worrying and caring for his French poodle. He was more than a gorgeous man.

He kept her hand tucked into his. Heat radiated up her arm. She listened to his slow breaths, the sound of leaves rustling when they walked, and the sound of water dripping off sodden branches. A water drop landed on her upper lip. She flicked her tongue to catch it.

She heard Davis’ breath quicken. His eyes brightened and focused on her. “Grayce.” His voice was urgent, breathless as if in pain.

He pulled at her hand, bringing her closer, closer until they were pressed together. He lowered his head and caressed her lips. His urgency vanished. He outlined her lips with the tip of his tongue, slowly exploring.

He kissed her eyelids, her forehead, her cheeks. He nibbled on her earlobe. Playing, enticing, tempting. His gentleness overwhelmed all her senses, so hypnotizing and exciting. The tingling in her frazzled nerves rushed to her fingertips and the back of her knees.

Her need to tell him about the danger and her abilities faded away. Davis returned to her lips. He lingered, rubbing his warm lips against hers. He tasted of wine and wonder. Her body softened around the heat from his body.

She put her arms around his neck, wanting to pull him closer, to feel him against her. She hadn’t realized he held her hand. The pull of her hand stopped Davis.

He blew out a breath. His warm breath moved across her face. “I didn’t mean to start.” He rubbed his nose against hers. His voice was rough. “I can’t resist you.”

This night couldn’t get more confusing, confounding and lovely.

“God, this is embarrassing. I know that sounds like a pick-up line.”

She pulled on his hand. “It’s okay, Davis.”

But now that he had brought it up, she couldn’t help but wonder how many other women had heard him say those exact words. She’d rather not think about all those other women.

“Grayce, don’t look at me like that. I’ve never been here before.”

Her pulse beat a little faster. “Everything is getting muddled.”

She started to walk. Davis followed.

“Wait.”

Where was her knowing when she needed it? She knew about out-of-body sensations, but nothing prepared her for the in-body sensations Davis provoked.

“I just wanted to talk and somehow everything got twisted into…” Her face flushed when she remembered her enthusiastic response to Davis.

“Grayce, I’m sorry. I really meant what I said in the restaurant. Let’s just take it slow. No pressure.”

“It’s not that…. It’s just.”

How could she explain? She really liked Davis, but her job was to warn him about the danger, not start dating him. She started walking again.

“Is there someone else?”

She stopped, hearing how vulnerable Davis sounded. She couldn’t imagine this man feeling unsure about any woman. “No, there isn’t anyone.”

“So we’re both free.” His wide grin was contagious.

She couldn’t resist. She smiled back. “But you’re my client. I’ve never dated a client.”

“I would hope not since your clients are four legged. Besides, I’m not your client, Mitzi is. And I know she won’t mind at all.”

“I’m a witness in your investigation. Isn’t that a problem for you?”

“The wharf fire is a small job. And it isn’t like you really saw anything. No conflict for me.”

He made it sound so simple.

“On Saturday night, I’d like to take you to my favorite Italian restaurant. Are you up for it, Grayce?”

She hesitated.

“Come on, Graycie. You’ll like it.”

No one but her dad had ever called her
Graycie
.

“Okay.”

“It’s in Pioneer Square. The department loves to get their fix of carbs there. You do eat carbs?”

“I eat everything. I lived in China.”

“China? You didn’t eat dog did you? On second thought, you’d better not answer that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Grayce waited for Hollie to plop into the chair. “I’ve decided to speak with the homeless men in Belltown.” Last night she had remembered that Davis’ attacker had smelled like pine and musk. Meth addicts didn’t smell like the men’s department in Nordstrom.

“You’re going to give a talk at the mission?”

“What? No. I’m going to try to find out about the man who tried to stab Davis. Davis believes the man was a drug addict with paranoid delusions.”

Davis would never accept her inner convictions about the man’s malevolent intentions. His clear disbelief in anything existing beyond his logical world was reinforced last night by his jokes about his aunt’s Tarot card readings. In the middle of the night, she had devised a plan to gather enough evidence to convince the hardheaded fire investigator that she was right.

Hollie snorted, flaring the silver crossbones in her nose, today’s fashion accessory, which complimented the black Goth look. “You wanna prove Davis wrong?”

“No, I just want to give Davis something more to go on about the guy.” She didn’t mention her forebodings that the guy was a hired killer.

Hollie snorted again. “Like I said, you want to prove macho Davis is wrong?”

“I’d like to prove Davis wrong, but only because I think he’s in danger.”

“But, isn’t the guy in jail?”

“No, the police took him to Harborview’s ER, and he escaped.”

Hollie stared, her almond-shaped eyes growing round. “A guy tries to stab Davis, runs from Harborview, and you…you’re gonna go looking for him?”

“I’m not looking for him.” Grayce shuddered at the memory of him thrusting the knife towards Davis’ chest. Her heart fluctuated in wild rhythm. “I’m going to ask about the man. I need information to prove he’s not a drug addict.”

Hollie raised one blackened eyebrow, the pierced silver skull lifting.

“I want to ask a few questions about the guy.”

“No one will talk. They might pretend they’re talking, but it’ll all be bullshit. They’ll say anything they think you’ll believe.”

“I was going to offer money.”

“Are you nuts? You can’t go down there and wave money around.”

“It’s one idea.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll go down while you’re in LA.”

“You’re not going down there.”

“I know the streets. You don’t.”

“I’m not as wimpy as you think.”

Hollie rolled her eyes. Grayce watched the silver skull nod.

“I don’t want you involved.”

“I’m involved.”

Grayce resisted the urge to roll her eyes back at the young woman.

“What if we prove he’s not a drug addict? Davis is one big dude; he can take care of his business.”

Grayce stood up. “You’re not going to do anything.”

“I need to be there to cover your back.” Hollie leapt out of her chair and stood in front of Grayce. “We can go together. I’ll be your front woman.” Hollie’s animated face had lost the toughness she painted around her eyes and lips with the hard black lines. The excitement in her voice and eyes clashed with her death statement of cross bones and skulls.

“I don’t know….”

“I know the streets. And I can tell who’s lying. They won’t try any shit…they won’t give you a hard time if I’m with you.”

“Well.” Grayce was wavering. “Why not?”

“I’m going with you!” Hollie’s low pitched voice went up an octave. “We should go at night. That’s when it goes down. It better not rain. No one will talk.”

Hollie slowly inspected Grayce. “You’re gonna need to do something about how you look. No offense, but you’ll stand out. You…look so…”

This from the woman who had multiple piercings, multiple tattoos, and wore thigh high boots year-round.

“I look like everyone else in this town.”

“Yeah, everyone who’s got money.”

“You’re right. Seattle’s rain-gear is expensive.” She could find something to wear in her parent’s closet. “Promise me you won’t go down there while I’m in LA?”

Hollie raised one of her tattooed arms. “Scout’s honor.” Not the image Scout Masters of America were aiming for. “We could go this week, Thursday. We’ll bring ’em cigarettes.”

“That’s brilliant. I guess I do need you.” Grayce was joking but the radiant glow in the young woman’s eyes stopped her. “Any giant Rottweilers today? Maybe we should be taking a Rottweiler with us to Belltown?” The vision of Mitzi accompanying them flashed across Grayce’s brain.

“They’ll think you’re a drug dealer.”

Both women laughed.

“You’ve got a lot of phone calls and one twelve-pound dachshund who nips. The owner said she would be bringing Ganesh in a muzzle. She’s hoping acupuncture will help his attitude.”

Grayce stared at Hollie’s painted black fingernails when she handed Grayce the dachshund’s chart. Her nails matched her black lips. Last night, the idea of approaching the homeless in Belltown seemed rational. In the light of day, maybe not—rather like dating a man who had a hired assassin trying to kill him.