No Turning Back (7 page)

“That was almost too easy.”

No kidding
. “Hey, when you win an argument, stop talking. Didn’t they teach you that in law school?”

“Not during the parts I was awake for.”

One victory down. Now all Declan had to do was win over Leah. Sure, no problem.

Chapter Seven

Leah dragged a third box into her bedroom, stepping around the exercise bike she used as a very expensive pants hanger and the pumps she kicked off the second after she came home from visiting her dad. The same visit she hadn’t planned for and which lasted hours rather than just for an early lunch as she had thought. Rushing around like an animal on speed wasn’t exactly her ideal hanging-around-the-house-on-Sunday routine, but it all had to be done, and fast.

She swore under her breath, knowing she should have taken care of all this last night. Hide the boxes and move the whiteboard. That had been her sexy Saturday night agenda but then she stared at the map of Hanover information and fell asleep across the end of her bed. She hadn’t jumped awake until her dad called this morning asking for her to come over and help with a photograph project.

She’d shed her sweater as she walked in the door and the silk blouse would normally come off next in favor of a washer-worn tee, but her sort-of-unwanted guest sort-of-not would be here in a half hour, and she needed to keep as professional-looking as possible. Which meant clothes on, comfort later.

“What are you going to wear for your big date?” Mallory asked the question as she pulled a third dress out of Leah’s double-door closet and threw it on the bed. The hangers clanked together as the clothes piled up on the pillow. “I like the aqua. It’s perfect with your skin tone.”

“You mean pale?” Leah dropped the box on the stack and her biceps immediately groaned in thanks. Not everything fit on the board, which left stacks of files behind.

“Yeah, because the red hair, porcelain skin and gray eyes combination thing is such a total turn off.”

Leah had never been one of those women who thrived on pointing out her own faults. She was pretty, not beautiful or striking, but not ugly. The freckles and inability to step outside for more than three minutes without slathering on a tube of sunscreen or wearing a hazmat suit, even in the fall, drove her nuts. But her insecurities were manageable. Well, mostly. Mallory’s expectations for this evening were another story.

“This is not a date,” Leah said, knowing it was unlikely Mallory would listen any better this time than she did that morning on the phone, or during the call last night or ten minutes ago when Leah said it again.

“Did you shave your legs this morning?”

She had last night but that was more about not wanting to be a hairy beast than Declan. Rather than get all defensive and do that thing where her voice went up really high and have Mallory shoot her that I-told-you-so look, Leah stayed non-committal. “What?”

“Uh-huh.” Mallory opened the thin top drawer of the dresser and dug around. When she turned back she had one hand full of pink silk and another with white lace. “Leg shaving means date. Date means sexy undies. Pick something pretty.”

“This is a business meeting.” Leah grabbed the bras and underwear and threw them in a ball on the top of the dresser. She pointed at the big whiteboard sitting in her bedroom doorway and blocking their way inside and out. “And could you maybe help with this?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you’d bring Declan here when it’s Hanover investigation central. I mean, come on. You have a whiteboard. Where the heck did you even get that thing, the police station?”

From the elementary school, but Leah refused to admit that or come clean about how hard it was to break it down and shove it in the car to bring it home. “I needed to spread out.”

“Which brings me back to the previous question.”

She dropped on the edge of the bed and let her shoulders fall along with her body. “Because I can’t have my dad or one of his friends see me with Declan.”

“But if it’s a business meeting . . .” Mallory closed one eye. “Or is it?”

“All business.” No matter what Leah dreamed about doing with Declan after she saw him last night.

“That’s a shame.”

The words bounced around in Leah’s head as she ignored a smack of unexpected regret. “We have five minutes to fix this or—”

“What?”

“I have to come up with a reasonable excuse for having the whiteboard that doesn’t include a ‘hey Declan, I’m trying to find dirt on you and your brothers’ angle.”

“That would be interesting.”

“The word you’re searching for is impossible, maybe messy, but certainly not something as neutral as interesting.” Leah stood up and started tugging on the edge of the whiteboard. On the second pull, she wedged it in the door frame. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing good.”

“No, no, no. Not now. Oh my God.” Her voice cut off because the breath hissed out of her.

She yanked again and heard metal scrape against wood. Anxiety shot through her and spun around until she grew dizzy. If Declan saw the writing or the photos . . . well, she didn’t know what he’d do. His temper could flare and she had no idea if he was dangerous. His Army record included awards and commendations, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a nasty side, maybe one far more violent than Charlie’s.

Then there was the more immediate problem of escaping the room. She lived in a one-level cottage, but with her luck she’d crawl out the window and fall right at his feet. That wouldn’t exactly be easy to explain.

With jerky movements and her insides crawling around in frantic desperation, she turned to Mallory. “Help me.”

Mallory sighed. “For a smart woman, you’re acting kind of stupid.”

“That’s the exact opposite of helpful. True, but still.”

“Step back.” Dressed in her usual dark tights, short skirt and motorcycle boots, Mallory dropped to her knees and started fiddling with a knob on the bottom of the board.

She maneuvered her body through the small space and crawled under the board and over the roller base. A squeaking sound filled the room a second later. The board fell with a whoosh for about six inches and landed with a clank at a lower level.

Relief pounded through Leah hard enough to buckle her knees. “Thank you.”

Mallory sat on the floor, picking up a few of the photos that fell off when the board crashed down. “Now do I get to stay?”

“No.”

“Because, obviously, there will be kissing, and you want that to be private.”

Leah couldn’t even let her mind wander in that direction. “He’s supposed to be the enemy.”

“You know, just because you were taught to hate the guy from birth doesn’t mean you can’t break out from the family insanity and make a decision about him on your own.” Mallory held up a hand for an assist to her feet.

One tug and they were face to face. “It’s not that simple.”

“I’ve seen what the vendetta has done to you.” All amusement had left Mallory’s voice. Her dark eyes grew serious and that frown spelled trouble. “Maybe it’s time to get your life back, which you almost did before Nanette had to go and die. Stop wading through your parents’ baggage.”

“What does that mean?” But Leah knew. She’d said the same words in the mirror that morning.

“Like I said before, you sometimes forget it but you’re a smart woman.” Mallory dragged the board back into the bedroom. Between the queen size bed, boxes and bike, there was only about a foot of walkable space left on the hardwood floor. The doorbell rang right as the doorway cleared. “I’ll get it.”

“Mallory, no.” Leah reached out to grab Mallory but the bike handle slammed into her gut. “Damn it.”

By the time Leah retrieved her pumps and conquered the bedroom obstacle course, she heard the squeak of the front door and felt a breeze blow through the house from the entry to the open window in the bedroom. She figured she had exactly three seconds to get out there before she lost all control of the conversation.

She closed the bedroom door and turned. Her shoe slipped out from under her and her hands hit the wall with a thunk. The desperate grab for the frame was the only thing that kept her from hitting her knees. Thank goodness a small hallway separated the bathroom and bedroom from the full view of the front door or her bumbling triumph would have had an audience.

She turned the corner in time to see Mallory ushering Declan inside. There were lots of smiles and what sounded like a female giggle. Leah was trying to remember the last time she’d heard her friend giggle. Oh, right . . . never.

“Hello again,” Mallory said as she shook his hand and her other one went to her chest. “I’m Mallory.”

“Declan.”

“Oh, I remember you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He inclined his head.

Much more of this and he’d be kissing her hand and Leah really didn’t want to see that. And Mallory’s staring and Declan’s eye-twinkle thing were a bit over the top. “I’m here, too, by the way.”

Leah knew her voice broke whatever spell had Mallory in its grip because she shook her head and flashed a huge smile. “Right, well, I have to go. Have a good date.”

Nothing else. Just a wink and a quick shift around Declan, and Mallory was gone.

As the door clicked shut, Declan held his eye contact with Leah. “Date?”

“She was kidding.”

“Didn’t sound like it.”

The man had been in her house for less than five minutes and she’d already lost control. Technically, he hadn’t even taken the step necessary to enter her family room. He hung by the door, all broad-shouldered with damp hair and a T-shirt that stretched over him and highlighted the trim waist and what she guessed was a super-flat stomach. That tattoo on his biceps peeked out and she had to fight the urge to ask him about it.

Yeah, time to put the brakes on anything but contract talk. She had the man’s entire family history spread out only a few feet away. There was no opportunity for anything but work, which was the right answer anyway. Her father would go from heart attack recovery to a grave if she so much as smiled at Declan too long.

She meant to rub her hands together but clapped instead. The sharp whack wiped out the room’s quiet. “Speaking of work—”

“Were we?” One of his eyebrows inched up, and he managed to make the condescending look seem sexy.

“First, I need to know if you speak for all of the Hanovers.”

“Everywhere?”

She clamped down on a growl. Clearly it was going be one of those evenings. “Your brothers.”

“Consider me the spokesperson.” He rolled back his shoulders and managed to highlight every rippling muscle on his arms and chest.

Impressive skills, but no way was she getting sidetracked by all that hotness. “Let’s set some ground rules.”

“Yeah, I would have bet money you’d have ground rules.”

Before he could say something else to tick her off, which she assumed was inevitable, she walked to the back of the house. She didn’t know he’d followed until his husky voice hit her in the back of the neck from only inches away. The shiver that ran through her had nothing to do with fear.

The kitchen sat right in front of them. Instead of hanging out in there she took a left and headed into the dining room where she’d already closed the curtains to the deck and set up some notebooks for them. She’d toyed with the idea of having a notary waiting nearby but figured that was a bit presumptuous. No need to spook Declan this soon.

She kept moving until a table separated them. With her hands resting on the back of the chair at the head of the table, she let her gaze wander over him. No wonder Mallory turned into a giggly schoolgirl around him. He had the Holy-Hell-Hot thing down.

He wasn’t pretty-boy handsome. He had a dark edge that went far past his near-black hair. Strength radiated off him. Control oozed until an invisible wall surrounded him and he silently dared her to break through.

Maybe he learned it through the discipline of the Army, or maybe dear old Charlie passed the trait on, though she was starting to doubt that, but Declan’s self-assurance showed in every line of his body. He walked into a room like he owned it and argued as passionately as if he’d sat in on those fancy lawyer classes with Beck.

To keep from getting thrown off by whatever sly thing was bopping around in his head, she grabbed onto the last thing he said. “You gamble?”

“Never.”

That’s what her investigation suggested, but the quick response had her attention. “Not even a lottery ticket?”

“I don’t believe in luck.” He glanced down at the yellow lined notebooks and pens. “What about those rules?”

Following his gaze, she noticed how she had lined up the edges of the paper with the pens. Man, it looked like she used a ruler. Yeah, nothing like a good case of nerves to bring out a woman’s buried compulsions. “The rules are simple.”

“I’m betting they’ll piss me off.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she launched into her prepared speech. “No straying off topic. No touching. No chit chat. We negotiate and hammer this out, so you can move on to whatever other state suits you. Preferably one on the East Coast.”

Straightforward and in a calm voice, she ticked them off on her fingers despite the circus act spinning and jumping in her stomach. When she finished, her heart thumped loud enough to drown out her voice. That had to be a good sign. A teacher once told her panic was just a sign of her body preparing her to do whatever she feared doing.

He just stood there. The longer the silence stretched, the more she cursed that teacher and her idiot theory.

For what felt like an hour, but probably barely amounted to minutes, he didn’t move. Didn’t show any reaction until his lower lip twitched. “Go back to the second one.”

“What?”

“The second thing on your list.”

Touching
. So much for thinking she’d handled everything well. She tightened her grip on the chair, letting the edge bite into her palm. “You know very well what I said.”

His head dropped to one side. “If this is a business meeting, why are you worried about touching?”

Well, damn
. “Don’t read more into that than there is.”

“Is it the idea of me touching you or of you touching me that has you all prickly?”

Talk about a miscalculation. So much for trying to push his attention to business. “Neither.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true. You’re a grown woman. We keep running into each other, sparking off each other. Why can’t you admit you’d like to experiment with a little touching?”