THE DARKNESS OUTSIDE the windows was dismal. Rain had begun to pepper down. It was a cold rain. Tess wrapped her arms around her body, because even the gray sweater she was wearing over dark slacks and a blue-and-gray-patterned blouse didn’t spare her from the chill. Behind her, Dane was smoking a cigarette, waiting.
Out of sight were Nick and Helen and Adams, along with two of Sergeant Graves’s best men. Some subtle investigative work had revealed that the office was being watched. Tonight, the office staff was going to take advantage of that surveillance to spring a trap. Dane and Tess were apparently working late. The rest of the office staff had left earlier, with a great deal of noise, so that anyone watching would see them. Once out of sight, they’d parked their cars several blocks away and had crept back into position, as planned.
Dane checked his watch. He was uneasy. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but he had no choice. He couldn’t let it drag on, let Tess be constantly in danger. He might not be quick enough the next time. The drug lords had already gotten to her. At least this way, he had a good chance of success in catching them once and for all.
He didn’t want her threatened. He couldn’t keep her, but he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, ever.
“Scared?” he asked gently.
“Terrified,” she confessed. “That’s normal, isn’t it?” she added, turning. “It isn’t lack of fear that creates heroes. It’s going ahead, doing what you have to when you’re so frightened you can hardly stand on your feet.”
He nodded. “That’s it, exactly. I’ve been in gun battles more than once. Every time, I could taste the fear. But I never ran.”
She smiled. “The adrenaline surge you get from danger is powerful,” she remarked. “Once I was away from the drug people and running, I could have flown.”
He scowled. “It’s addictive,” he said quietly. “That’s why I’d never let you work as an operative. You’d have taken to the danger without hesitation. It would have put you at risk constantly.”
“You’re at risk constantly,” she pointed out. Her eyes slid over his hard, lean face. “But you won’t quit, either.”
“I don’t have anyone to leave behind,” he said. His expression dared her to argue. “This isn’t a married man’s—or woman’s—occupation, not the way we operate. The demands of the job can kill the best of relationships. Jane hated my work when I was a ranger. I was never home.”
Her eyes softened. “Dane, if you’d loved her, really loved her…wouldn’t you have been?”
His face went expressionless. He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch. “It’s time.” He put out his cigarette. She asked questions he didn’t want to answer. “You know what to do.”
“Yes.”
He picked up his attaché case, hesitating as he passed her. His dark eyes caressed her face. “Don’t take chances. If it goes down unexpectedly, scream, break a window, do anything to get my attention. I won’t be out of earshot, no matter what.”
“All right.” She swallowed. Her mouth was dry, her palms sweaty. Her heartbeat was racing, but she couldn’t let him see how frightened she was. It would only make things worse.
“You’ve got plenty of backup,” he added. “It’s going to be all right. After tonight, it will be over.”
“They can make bail again….”
“Not in this case. If it’s permitted, we’ll make sure it’s set high enough that they’ll never raise it.”
“It’s still my word against theirs.”
“After tonight it won’t be,” he promised. He touched her lips with his forefinger. “Chin up, lover,” he breathed. He bent his head and nipped her lower lip hard, making her mouth open so that he could take it hungrily. But before she could reach up to hold him, he was out the door.
She was alone. The office was suddenly cold and frightening. She paced nervously. Dane had had time to get to the parking lot, get to his car and put the attaché case in the trunk. From there, he was going to light a cigarette and then start back toward the office. It would look as if he’d just stepped out for a minute, not as if he was deliberately leaving Tess alone—that would have been a dead giveaway to anyone watching that it was a setup.
In those few minutes, a dark brown sedan had purred to a stop down the street and two men had emerged. From the shadows, they’d eased along the side of the building, keeping Dane in sight until he rounded the corner at the parking lot.
They’d seen their opportunity and they took it. Darting into the building and then into the elevator, they went up to the floor where the office was located. When the elevator stopped, they were already drawing their weapons. This time they were taking no chances. None at all.
What they didn’t know was that Dane had seen them. Wasting no time, he’d darted around to the back of the building and the service elevator. There was a back way into his office. He had his .45 automatic out, cocked, and in his hand when the main door to the office began to open. Tess had turned automatically to look when she heard the sound. The flash of the first man’s gun burned into her consciousness, leaving her rigid, unable to move. She wasn’t going to make it. She knew that no operative was going to have time to get to her before the shots hit her. Remembering the pain she’d known before, she stared at the pistol with blank, terror-filled eyes. Dane, she thought in anguish. Her last conscious thought was of him.
“Duck!”
The voice commanded and she obeyed, falling to the floor even as the sound of automatic gunfire shattered the silence.
Dane hit the floor near her, rolling to escape the bullets with all his ex-policeman’s skill. He had only one instant to aim and fire, but he was an expert shot. He had one clear shot at the first man with the small Uzi in his hands, and he took it. The drug dealer’s gun discharged again and suddenly flew out of his hands seconds before he caught his shoulder and went down, crying out as the bullet hit him. The second man whirled and ran. Dane leaped to his feet with fluid grace, his face set in lines Tess had never seen, his eyes black fires in a stony countenance as he spun the wounded man onto his belly and searched him with quick, deft motions. He always carried handcuffs. He snapped them onto the man’s wrists and left him, coming back to Tess, who was by now on her knees and shaking from the experience.
“The other man,” she gasped.
He took her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Nick will have him by now.”
“Get me a doctor, damn you!” the downed man cried. “This is inhuman! I’m bleeding!”
“So was Tess when you shot her,” he replied, adding a few adjectives that turned Tess’s face ruddy.
“Are you all right?” she asked Dane, her hands unconsciously searching his arms for wounds. “He didn’t hit you?”
A corner of his mouth tugged up. “I’ve spent most of my life dodging bullets,” he reminded her. “I used to get paid for it. Are you all right?”
“I am now,” she said, and leaned against him weakly, her cheek on his chest. She stared at the downed man, who was curled up, groaning. Blood stained his elegant jacket. The Uzi he’d brought with him was dangling from one of Dane’s lean hands.
“Tess!”
Helen’s voice echoed loudly as she leaped from the elevator with Nick right behind. “We heard shots…” She stopped, staring at the downed man briefly before she studied Dane and Tess. “Everybody okay?”
“We’re fine. How about his cohort?” Dane asked, nodding toward the wounded man.
“I handed him over to Sergeant Graves’s men,” Nick said, reholstering his automatic. He gave Helen a dark glare from eyes almost as black as Dane’s. “No thanks to my sister, Miss James Bond, here,” he added. “She actually walked into the line of fire.”
“I did not!” Helen raged. “You came out of nowhere! Why is it always my fault anytime something goes wrong?” she demanded. “Don’t you ever make mistakes, Mr. Perfect?”
“No,” he said with a pleasant smile.
Dane had to stifle a grin at the expression on Helen’s face. “Cut it out,” he said. “Call an ambulance for our victim there,” he instructed, handing Helen the Uzi.
“Careful, don’t get fingerprints on it,” Nick said with deliberate sarcasm.
“I know how to hold a gun,” she said smugly. “You taught me yourself! Are you okay?” she asked Tess.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Tess said breathlessly.
“Damned detectives,” the downed man spat. “Damned detectives!”
Dane lifted an eyebrow and drew Tess closer. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
It was a long night. She had to give a statement, wait until it was typed and read back to her, then sign it. The wounded man was taken to the hospital under police guard. Later he’d be removed to the county jail pending trial. The other man was booked and jailed and his lawyer was telephoned.
No bail, Dane had promised. Tess breathed easily for the first time.
She slept without being coaxed, right past the alarm clock. When she woke, there was a note from Dane, telling her not to come to work that day, that she needed the rest.
Probably she did. And she needed the time to pack, she thought miserably. He hadn’t said so, but then he’d barely spoken to her the night before. He’d been kind but impersonal, and he hadn’t offered more than cursory comfort. He’d sent her to bed, insisting that she needed sleep more than conversation.
But what he really wanted was to see the last of her. She didn’t need a crystal ball to understand that he wasn’t going to let her into his life on any permanent basis. Probably, now that she was out of danger, he wasn’t even going to want her in the office anymore. Her very presence would be a painful reminder of his vulnerability, of the night he’d given in to his need of her and let himself love her. He did love her. That was the only certainty she had. But he was going to fight it, and he might win. That was the chance she was taking by complying with his wishes; by going away without argument. She had to draw back and let him think it out for himself. Only by giving him freedom of choice did she have any chance of convincing him that they could have a future together.
She packed her things and had them ready when he came home that evening. She was sitting on the sofa, dressed in neat gray slacks with a white bulky-knit sweater, her hair in a braid down her back, her coat next to her.
She looked up as he entered the apartment. He paused at the sight of her suitcases, scowling.
“I thought you’d prefer it like this,” she said quietly. “No fuss. No trouble.” She stood up. “Can you drive me home, please?”
He drew in a slow breath. She was right. It was better this way. But he’d expected to find her curled up on the sofa, as she’d been so many evenings, watching television. The stark reality of her departure hit him like a body blow.
“Come on,” he said, his voice as stiff as his posture. “I’ll do that before I get comfortable.”
“Thank you.”
She put on her coat and followed him out of the apartment. She didn’t look back. It would have broken her heart.
“You don’t have to worry about your assailants,” he told her. “I have assurances that they won’t get out again. You’ll have to testify. Graves will notify you.”
“So he said.” She concentrated on the streetlights and didn’t speak again. She was too choked up for that.
When they arrived at her apartment, it was cold. She turned up the thermostat while Dane unloaded her suitcases and brought them in. He stood there, elegant in a vested navy blue suit, his posture arrow-straight.
“Will you be okay?” he asked.
“Of course. I’m safe, now—right?” she added nervously. “They don’t have friends who owe them favors, or anything?”
He shook his head. “Fortunately, these two are jump-ups—renegades who poached on another pusher’s territory. Nobody loves them enough to make you pay for their arrest.”
“Thank God.”
He studied her quietly, with faint sadness in his expression, in his eyes. “You don’t have to come in tomorrow if you don’t feel like it.”
“I won’t mind getting back to work.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked up. “If you won’t mind letting me stay…?”
“My God, that would be gratitude, wouldn’t it?” he asked harshly. “Turning you out on the streets when you took a bullet on my account!”
“It wasn’t on your account. I saw something I shouldn’t have. I never blamed you.”
He drew in a rough breath. “Well, I do. I blame myself for a hell of a lot of things.”
“I’m a big girl now,” she told him bravely. “I made my own choices, Dane.”
“Did you?” he asked, his dark eyes narrowing as they searched hers. He watched her blush. “Maybe you think you had a choice. I’m not sure you really did. I seduced you.”
She smiled sadly and shook her head. “I’m afraid it was the other way around.”
He lit a cigarette, his shoulders slumping a little as he smoked it, watching her quietly. “You’ll get over this,” he said, searching her sad eyes. “You don’t think so, but you will. God knows, people can get over any kind of pain eventually.”
“Jane hurt you badly, didn’t she?” she asked. “I wouldn’t, but you can’t be sure of that, because you don’t trust emotions. Do you really want to be alone for the rest of your life, Dane?”
“Yes,” he said curtly. He averted his eyes so that she wouldn’t see the lie in them. He wanted Tess, but getting out of her life was the kindest thing he could do for her. When she was happily married, with children, she’d forget him.
Tess didn’t know how to answer the stark statement he’d just made. She couldn’t convince him. Words wouldn’t be enough. Her body wasn’t enough to tempt him to stay with her. She had nothing left, except the fact that she loved him, and he didn’t believe that. With one word, he’d robbed her of every convincing argument she had.
“Then there’s nothing left to say.”
“Nothing,” he agreed. His eyes searched around the small apartment and then went back to her, lingering only for an instant. He turned then, and opened the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“In the morning,” she whispered, fighting tears.
His back stiffened as he heard her choked tone. He didn’t look at her. It would have been fatal. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll do that. You, too.” She hesitated. “Dane?”
“What?”
“Thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t been in the office, I wouldn’t be here now.”
His eyes closed. A wave of nausea washed over him. He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t bear the pain of remembering how close she’d come to death, twice now. “Good night, Tess,” he said tightly. He went out and closed the door, only then lifting his hot face to the cold night air, swallowing down the sick lump in his throat.
There was rain, and more rain. He walked back to the car, but he didn’t get into it. He turned and leaned against it, his eyes on the lighted windows of Tess’s apartment complex. He was always on the outside looking in, he thought bitterly, always standing in the cold rain and looking at warm windows. If he could have given Tess a child, he might have been inside even now, holding her, loving her. But he couldn’t give her that, and he’d be cheating her if he gave in to his own feelings.
He finished his cigarette and threw it to the pavement, watching it fizzle out in the puddle of rain. He felt like that, as if a fire inside him had been coldly quenched. He turned and got into the car and drove away into the night.
When they were back at work again, Tess expected coldness from Dane. What she hadn’t expected was total indifference. Dane treated her like he did the computer. He extracted information from her, replaced it with other information and left her sitting in the office without a backward glance when he went home. It was boss-employee now, all the way.
She went through the motions of working, but her heart wasn’t in it. Dane didn’t want her around. She knew he hated even the sight of her at her desk, but she couldn’t make herself do what he really wanted her to. She couldn’t resign.
“Want to go out and have a pizza with me?” Helen offered, grinning. “Now that I’m a heroine, with my name in the papers,” she added, because the arrest had made headlines, “the pizza-parlor owner thinks I’m the berries. He gives me anything I want.” She snapped her fingers. “Even double cheese and mushrooms and anchovies.”
“You’ll start melting one day,” Tess cautioned. “All that pizza will turn your poor insides into mozzarella and you’ll ooze all over the floor.”
“Not as long as I eat enough anchovies to keep me solvent.” The older woman grinned. “Come on. Come home with me. You look dismal these days, all pale and worn. You need cheering up.”
“I don’t feel like going out,” Tess said. “I get sleepy with the chickens these days. Residue from all the pressure,” she added with a smile. “I still have to go to court next month when the trial comes up.” Her assailants had since been arraigned and a trial date had been set.
“The vultures,” Helen muttered. “I hope they get life.”
“Unlikely,” Tess replied. “But they’ll very probably spend some time in jail. I hope I’m living in Antarctica when they get out,” she added, shivering.
“Haven’t you heard?” Helen asked. “I thought Dane would have told you that they’ve been implicated in the murder of a rival drug lord. He was shot with an Uzi, and ballistics matched the fatal bullet to the Uzi that wild man was shooting in here the night we apprehended them. It isn’t you they’ll be doing time for assaulting—the DA’s going for murder one and two counts of possession with intent to distribute. He figures that’s more than enough, even without your assault charge, although they may use it if they think they need to.”
“Dane didn’t mention that.” Tess didn’t add that Dane only spoke to her when it was absolutely necessary, or that he avoided her like the plague most of the time.
Helen’s eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t look much better than you do,” she remarked. “Poor guy, he lost a lot of sleep while you were in danger. I don’t suppose he’s caught up yet, and he’s taken on a double caseload since the arrest. I suppose he’s trying to use up some of that nervous energy.”
“I suppose so.” Tess yawned. “I wish I had some of it. I’m so tired!”
“Maybe you do need an early night at that. Come have a pizza with me. It’ll cheer you up, and I’ll get you home so you can catch up on your beauty sleep.”
“Thanks, but really, I don’t want anything spicy, anyway. My stomach’s been queasy for a couple of days. I’m afraid it’s that stomach bug Adams had. He breathed on me.”
“Harold’s got a cold. I’ll bring him to the office and have him breathe on Adams for you,” Helen offered.
“You’re a real friend,” Tess said fervently.
Helen grinned. “Don’t I know it.”
After work, Tess went home and went to bed. The virus was potent, she thought as she lost her breakfast the next morning. She called in sick and curled up in bed again, listening to the pouring rain outside with vague pleasure as she went back to sleep.
Dane came by after work to check on her. She was astonished that he bothered. His attitude in the office had convinced her that he’d put her completely out of his mind.
“How are you?” he asked at the doorway.
She was disheveled and pale, clad in a worn cotton gown and a thick, red chenille bathrobe that covered her from head almost to bare toes. “I’ve just got Adams’s virus,” she said weakly. “Shoot him for me, will you?”
“Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ve got frozen yogurt. It’s keeping me alive.”
He hesitated. “Maybe you should see a doctor,” he said with a frown.
“For a stomach bug? Sure.” She held the door open pointedly. “I need to lie down, Dane. Thanks for coming by, but I’ll be okay in a couple of days. You can get a temp while I’m out, can’t you?”
“We had one today.” He hesitated. “She’s very good. Her dictation skills and typing speeds are on par with yours.”
“If you want me to resign, you only have to say so,” she told him softly, her eyes meeting his. She caught a look on his face that confirmed her suspicions. “Talk to her and see if she’ll agree to stay,” she told him. “If she will, and you’ll let me go without proper notice…”
“You can’t leave until you’ve got another job to go to,” he said through his teeth.
“Short Investigations will hire me in a minute. You know that. Mr. Short said once when he was collaborating with you on a case that he’d love to have me work for him.”
Mr. Short was in his forties and good-looking, a widower with style and daring. Dane’s eyes narrowed as he thought about Tess in the same office with that man.
“I don’t think so…” he began.
“Dane, you don’t want me around,” she said wearily. “Let’s stop pretending. Since you slept with me, I’m a perpetual thorn in your side. You look at me like you can’t stand the sight of me. I understand. It’s just as hard for me to work with you, knowing you feel that way. Let me go. I’ll be all right.”
He winced. “Don’t look like that,” he said huskily. “You make me feel two inches tall.”
“I don’t mean to.” She leaned against the wall beside the door, her eyes loving him unconsciously. “Maybe I can forget, if I don’t have to see you everyday,” she said weakly.
“You’ll find someone else,” he said through his teeth.
“I know,” she said to placate his conscience. Not that she believed it. Love like hers didn’t wear out. She forced a smile for him. “Goodbye, Dane.”
“It couldn’t work, honey,” he said, his voice so tender and anguished that she could have cried. “We’d have two strikes against us from the beginning. I don’t want marriage.”
“I know,” she said softly. “It’s all right.”
His chest rose and fell heavily. “No, it’s not. I miss you. I’m alone. Nothing is the same anymore.”
Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Please go, before I make an even bigger fool of myself,” she pleaded.
“It isn’t love you feel for me!” he ground out. “Don’t you see? It’s just physical!”
She couldn’t answer him. Her eyes, in her thin, pale face, were tragic.
“It’s for the best. You’ll realize it eventually. You’ll marry and have a houseful of kids…” He turned away before his voice broke. He couldn’t bear to think about that. “Goodbye, little one. I’ll have Helen bring by your severance pay. You can tell her you can’t bear the memories of the shooting. She’ll believe it.”
“I’ll do that,” she choked. Please leave, she was thinking frantically, please leave before I break down and go to pieces!
His shoulders squared. “If you ever need me…”
“Thank you. Good night.”
He didn’t look back. He started to, but his control was precarious.
He went out and heard the door close behind him. It broke his heart to walk away and leave Tess, but he had nothing to give her. She didn’t really love him, he told himself. It was just physical attraction. And marriage was impossible and unfair to Tess. He kept telling himself that all the way home.
But when he was back in his empty apartment, the only thing that registered was that he was totally alone.