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His Sheltering Arms
KRISTI GOLD


His job was to keep Erin Brailey safe. But first, security expert Zach Miller had to convince the sultry beauty that she needed his protection…while keeping his desire for her hidden lest it lure them both into danger….Taking control of her life for the first time, Erin wanted to rely on herself– even though Zach looked more than capable of handling all her needs. But after exchanging heated embraces with her new protector, Erin couldn' t help wondering: Was the safest place she could be…right in Zach' s arms?









“We Could Meet In The Boardroom And Have Access To The Conference Table.”


A burst of heat shot through Zach at the thought of what he would like to do with Erin on top of that table. That bothered him. He suspected Erin was the kind of woman who could make him reveal his darkest secrets.

“What time?”

“Six.”

“Good. I’ll bring dinner. What do you like?”

“Spicy,” she said.

If she only knew what she was doing to him, she’d probably prefer to walk back. But maybe not. Maybe she did inject passion into everything she attempted. Something told him he just might have to find out.




Dear Reader,

Welcome to Silhouette Desire, the ultimate treat for Valentine’s Day—we promise you will find six passionate, powerful and provocative romances every month! And here’s what you can indulge yourself with this February….

The fabulous Peggy Moreland brings you February’s MAN OF THE MONTH, The Way to a Rancher’s Heart. You’ll be enticed by this gruff widowed rancher who must let down his guard for the sake of a younger woman.

The exciting Desire miniseries TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: LONE STAR JEWELS continues with World’s Most Eligible Texan by Sara Orwig. A world-weary diplomat finds love—and fatherhood—after making a Plain Jane schoolteacher pregnant with his child.

Kathryn Jensen’s The American Earl is an office romance featuring the son of a British earl who falls for his American employee. In Overnight Cinderella by Katherine Garbera, an ugly-duckling heroine transforms herself into a swan to win the love of an alpha male. Kate Little tells the story of a wealthy bachelor captivated by the woman he was trying to protect his younger brother from in The Millionaire Takes a Bride. And Kristi Gold offers His Sheltering Arms, in which a macho ex-cop finds love with the woman he protects.

Make this Valentine’s Day extra-special by spoiling yourself with all six of these alluring Desire titles!

Enjoy!






Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire




His Sheltering Arms

Kristi Gold







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




KRISTI GOLD


began her romance-writing career at the tender age of twelve, when she and her sister spun romantic yarns involving a childhood friend and a popular talk-show host. Since that time, she’s given up celebrity heroes for her favorite types of men—doctors and cowboys—as her husband is both. An avid sports fan, she attends football and baseball games in her spare time. She resides on a small ranch in central Texas with her three children and retired neurosurgeon husband, along with various livestock ranging from Texas longhorn cattle to spoiled yet talented equines. At one time she competed in regional and national Appaloosa horse shows as a non-pro, but she gave up riding for writing and turned the “reins” over to her youngest daughter. She attributes much of her success to her sister, Kim, who encouraged her in her writing, even during the tough times. When she’s not in her office writing her current book, she’s dreaming about it. Readers may contact Kristi at P.O. Box 11292, Robinson, TX 76116.


To Leigh Riker—long before I called you my friend,

you were my inspiration. Now I am twice blessed.

To those who have left their abusive partners

to find a better life,

I honor your courage and dedicate this book to you.

And to the women who have lost their battle

in the domestic violence war, may we never forget you.


Special acknowledgment goes to

Sharon Benner and Family Violence Prevention Fund

for their invaluable insight and information.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve




One


He wore his all-American good looks like a merit badge, but the devil in his dark eyes told Erin Brailey this man was no Boy Scout.

Zach Miller strode through Erin’s office door with an athletic grace that immediately captured her imagination. Although some might deem his appearance inappropriate for a business meeting, she appreciated his chambray shirt and jeans. The clothes fit as if tailor-made to showcase his attributes.

But no matter how perfect his layered black hair, how breathtaking his six-foot-plus frame, she refused to allow his presence to distract her. This was business. Maybe the most important business of her life.

She stepped to the side of her desk and offered him her hand and a smile. “Mr. Miller, I’m Erin Brailey, executive director of Rainbow Center. Thanks for coming in.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Ms. Brailey.” His strong, callused hand gripped hers, complementing the rough timbre of his voice.

After he released her hand, Erin reclaimed her desk chair and motioned for him to take the seat across from her. Once he settled in, she flipped open a folder and scanned the information inside. “I guess you know we’ve accepted your bid.”

“Not until now.”

When she looked up, he was watching her, his bent elbow resting on the chair arm, finger and thumb forming an L-shaped support for his head from temple to jaw. His casual posture didn’t detract from his air of control.

Erin consulted the material again to avoid his steady scrutiny. She brushed her hair from her face and caught a whiff of his heady cologne lingering on her fingertips. “Since the center decided not to go public with sealed bids, I assumed we’d have to pay more for security.” After closing the file, she folded her hands in front of her and met his gaze.

He leaned forward, his espresso eyes boring into her. “If you’re worried about getting your money’s worth, I guarantee you’ll be completely satisfied.”

Although his expression didn’t change, Erin’s composure slipped a notch. If any other contractor had told her the same thing, she wouldn’t have given the words a second thought. But coming from this great-smelling man with the whisky voice and sinful eyes, she felt like the target of a drive-by, indecent proposal. One she might be tempted to accept.

Shaking the ridiculous thoughts from her brain, Erin loosened her joined hands from their death grip and fought the urge to turn the thermostat down to sixty. The center couldn’t afford the extra electricity. Neither could she.

“I’m not worried about the quality of your work,” she said. “You come highly recommended by Gil Parks, and I trust his judgment. I’m simply trying to understand your motivation for accepting a job that might show little profit for your company.”

Zach sat back and scrubbed at his jaw with one hand. “Are you expecting an ‘I’m serving my community’ speech?”

Erin tamped down the surge of anger. Long ago she had come to realize that not everyone was committed to the shelter and the issues it represented. “I’m expecting an honest answer.”

His lazy gaze took in the surroundings, the olive-green curtains, the marred oak desktop, the yellowed walls. He finally brought his eyes back to her. “I did my homework, Ms. Brailey. I know there’s a need for this new shelter. You can’t be too careful about the causes you support financially.”

She supposed she should be flattered he’d chosen to bestow his selective altruism on Rainbow Center, but her cautious nature jumped into autopilot. “Phase II has been chosen to assist some of the larger municipalities because of its rural location. It will provide a totally secure environment dependent on private protection. We will require the utmost discretion since it’s designed to provide refuge for women whose batterers are high-profile or work within service occupations in the surrounding communities.”

“You mean cops.”

“Yes, law enforcement does fall under that umbrella along with paramedics, firemen and anyone else who would know the whereabouts of the existing shelters in their area. The house isn’t registered under the center’s name. Neither are the utilities. So for all intents and purposes, it will appear to be an isolated farmhouse sitting in the middle of seventy-five acres. But we’ll still require private security since nothing is 100 percent foolproof.”

“That makes sense.”

Something about Zach Miller’s frown bothered Erin.

“So, have you always worked in security?”

He shifted in the chair and rubbed one large hand down his jeans-clad thigh. “No. I used to be a cop.”

Warning bells rang out in Erin’s brain. As the center’s staff accountant, Gil Parks was usually meticulous. Not this time. Before Gil invited Zach Miller’s bid and convinced the board of directors to accept it, he should have brought this significant detail to Erin’s attention immediately despite the fact Zach was a long-time acquaintance and trusted friend of Gil’s. She was governed by the board—respected community leaders—and she’d worked hard to build their trust. She wouldn’t allow an error in judgment to destroy their faith in her and compromise the project. She had to know more about Zach Miller.

“How long were you in law enforcement?” she asked, trying to keep the concern from her voice.

“Twelve years total. Seven with Dallas PD, five right here in Langdon. I’ve been in the security business for three.”

“Why did you leave the department?”

“Burnout.” Some unnamed emotion flared in his dark eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Erin made a mental note to ask Gil for more details about Zach Miller’s departure from the force. “Do you still have contact with your former colleagues?”

“A few.”

Feeling a headache coming on, Erin pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hope this isn’t going to be a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

She squared her shoulders and looked at him straight on. “I know it’s rare, especially in a community the size of Langdon, but should the situation arise, are you going to be able to provide protection for beaten wives and girlfriends of law enforcement colleagues, then keep it a secret?”

He leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into her. “Are you asking can you trust me?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

He remained the portrait of restraint, but Erin noted a flash of anger pass over his face. “Ms. Brailey, I have no problem protecting any woman from a man who thinks using her as a punching bag is his God-given right. Cop or no cop. And I’ve kept my share of secrets over the years.”

She imagined he had. And probably still did.

He folded his arms across his broad chest and resumed a relaxed position. “You can trust me. So can your residents.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but the conviction in his tone spoke volumes. And if her instincts were correct, Erin suspected he was much more than just a burned-out cop. She also wondered if he had more commitment to this project than he cared to admit. Only time would tell.

“I have to make sure we’re clear on this issue,” she said. “This is a pilot program. I have one more month to get it going. Our funding hinges on its success. If I can’t make it work, then it’s over before it gets a running start.” She drew in a breath. “This shelter is very important to many people.”

“And important to you?”

Her pride had given her away. “Yes. Me, too.”

His grin came out of hiding. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Erin smiled back and added perfect teeth to her covert list of his assets, then scolded herself for doing just that. Yet she couldn’t help but notice the sprinkling of crisp black hair peeking out from the opening in his shirt. She’d bet her meager salary he had a chest that wouldn’t quit.

Zach Miller appeared to be a tough-around-the-edges man. A man her father would never approve of. Which made him all the more appealing to Erin. Unfortunately, he would have to remain off-limits. She didn’t have time for men. Or maybe she just didn’t have the fortitude to explore the possibilities, considering past experience. Although at the moment the thought was tempting.

“Ms. Brailey?”

Her face flamed when she realized he’d been speaking. “I’m sorry. Just daydreaming.”

“Must’ve been one heck of a daydream.” His grin deepened, revealing a single dimple at the left corner of his mouth. A nice spot to kiss, Erin decided.

Bolting from her chair, Erin sent the papers on her desk into a frenzied dance. “That about does it. I guess we’re settled and ready for you to get started.”

His smile faded, but it didn’t detract from his brooding good looks. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

Her pulse did the cha-cha. “Where?”

“The new shelter. I worked the bid from a blueprint, so I haven’t actually seen it yet. If you have the time, I can show you some of what I have in mind.”

Thank heavens he didn’t know what she’d had in mind a minute ago. “You mean now?”

“Now is good for me.”

If she thought he wouldn’t notice, Erin would kick herself in the backside with her black pumps for sounding so unnerved. “Sure. There’s nothing here that can’t wait.”

Erin slipped her blazer on and grabbed her purse. Zach followed her to the reception desk where she addressed the college student filling in for the summer. “Cathy, Mr. Miller and I are going to visit the new shelter.” She consulted her watch while the receptionist stared at Zach. “I may not be back, so forward all important calls to my home or page me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cathy said as she brought her gaze briefly to Erin, then back to Zach.

Erin headed toward the exit wondering if Cathy had heard a word she’d said. Obviously, the man had the same effect on women eighteen to sixty and all points in between.

Luckily, Erin had grown immune to men too handsome for their own good. At least she thought she had. Until today.



Silence hung over the cab of the truck like the dust rising off the dash as Zach skirted one rural pothole after another. He hadn’t quite gotten over the impact of meeting Erin Brailey, five feet eight inches of pure fantasy—blond hair, blue eyes, with a body that could stop a high-stakes game of poker. Right now she afforded him a good view of her thighs where her tight black skirt had ridden up. He reminded himself to focus on the road and keep his libido in check.

In his peripheral vision, Zach saw Erin shimmy out of her jacket. He also noticed the way the white satin blouse clung to her round breasts. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Are you hot?” he asked with a cursory glance in her direction. He certainly was.

“It’s a little warm,” she answered. “Looks like it’s going to be a blistering Texas summer if May’s any indication.”

Small talk. He could handle that. “I’ll turn up the air.”

When he set the control all the way to high, a burst of cold air blew into his face, but it didn’t do much for the heat her presence had generated in his uncooperative body.

“How much farther?” he asked.

“Turn right in two miles, then it’s another eight.”

He started to ask how they chose the site, but his words died when he glimpsed her breasts again. Now she was cold. He silently cursed the fact the shelter was still ten minutes away.

Clearing the uncomfortable hitch in his throat, he asked, “How long have you been working for Rainbow Center?”

When she crossed her arms over her chest, Zach was both disappointed and relieved. “I’ve been with the center since I started college,” she said. “I worked my way up to director while I completed my graduate studies.”

“In counseling?”

“I have an MBA. I have a pretty good head for business.”

She had a pretty good body to go right with it.

Damn! He needed to get a grip. This was business; she represented a client. Try telling that to his testosterone.

He shifted in the seat. “Public service is a bitch, though. Lousy pay, long hours. With your credentials, have you thought about finding a more lucrative job?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he glanced her way again. The look she gave him could melt the tires out from under his truck. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“If you mean that my job is a waste of my talents, I assure you that what I do matters. If you’d ever looked into the eyes of the child of a batterer, then you’d know what I mean.”

“Believe me, Ms. Brailey, I have.” He’d been that child.

She shot him a remorseful look, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you have. I’m just a little testy when it comes to defending my reasons for staying with the shelter.”

“I was just speaking from personal experience.” But he wasn’t so jaded that he didn’t know exactly where she was coming from. Dealing with kids who were victims of adult brutality had never been easy. In fact, it had torn at his heart and had nearly destroyed his faith in humanity. People like Erin Brailey were few and far between. She reminded him that good did exist in this screwed-up world. And he admired her for her commitment, her passion for the cause. If only he could feel that way again—the way he’d felt before it had all come apart.

Zach didn’t know what to say or if he should just keep his mouth shut. He couldn’t help but wonder if Erin Brailey’s passion carried over into her personal life. Was she as all-fired enthusiastic about other things?

He might as well get “other things” out of his head if he wanted to remain objective. No problem. Control was one of his stronger suits. Under normal circumstances.

A few minutes later the truck crunched up the gravel drive leading to the shelter. The gate hung askew, the paint on the white frame house was blistering and peeling. Someone had finished painting the front facade but not all the way up to the second floor. From the looks of things, another month might not be enough time to get the place in shape.

Zach barely put the truck into park before Erin opened the door and slid out. As he watched her walk toward the entrance, he realized she looked as good in back as she did in front. He got out of the truck muttering a litany of curses and cautions.

Zach entered the shelter but didn’t immediately see Erin. His booted heels echoed in the hall as he walked the well-worn hardwood floor. At the end of the foyer he found Erin at the bottom of the stairs surveying a freshly painted wall.

“This is looking much better.” She faced him with a polite smile. “The bottom floor consists of mainly the manager’s quarters, a kitchen, a living room and a small den. All the bedrooms are upstairs. Where do you want to start?”

He surveyed the surroundings, noting some places that looked vulnerable to a security breach. “Down here’s fine.”

“Okay.” She glanced up the stairs, then turned back to him. “You can start here, and I’ll be with you in a minute. If you don’t mind, I want to check on the second-floor children’s room and make sure it’s been done right.”

The sudden softening of her features took Zach by surprise, and then he recalled her earlier comment about the kids. “The children’s room, huh?”

Her smile was almost self-conscious, as if she’d been caught in some illicit act. “Don’t look so shocked, Mr. Miller. I admit I like kids. I work with them at the shelter with a self-esteem program. It’s important to break the cycle before they reach adulthood.”

“I understand.” More than she would ever know. Zach made a sweeping gesture toward the stairs. “By all means check it out. You can join me down here when you’re done.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a while.”

After Erin departed up the stairs, Zach got busy surveying the rooms, checking the windows, making notes about his concerns. He listed all points of vulnerability and completed the initial evaluation and still he had yet to see Erin again. Although he would need to return at least one more time before getting started on the wiring, in case he missed something, he was pretty much finished evaluating the first floor. Might as well go find Ms. Brailey.

He headed toward the staircase, shaking his head. Erin Brailey liked kids. He wouldn’t have guessed that about her, but then his instincts about women weren’t always correct. Those who appeared the toughest on the surface often hid their vulnerabilities from the world. He’d learned that the hard way. But Erin Brailey wasn’t a victim.

Zach gripped the rickety banister and took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the top landing, the acrid smell of fresh paint assaulted his nostrils and burned his eyes. He moved down the hall, glancing into each room, one newly renovated, the other waiting its turn. He paused to consider what a place like this would have meant to his mother. Maybe things would have been different if she’d had the resources to change her life for the better. Maybe he would have been different. But that was the past, something Zach couldn’t alter.

Continuing on, Zach found Erin in the third room beyond the staircase, a small bedroom decorated in a pastel blue with yellow rabbits bordering the wall where it met the ceiling. Normally he wouldn’t notice what the room looked like, but Erin Brailey’s fitted skirt contrasted with the walls like black leather against a backdrop of sky. She was standing on the top rung of a ladder in her stocking feet, reaching up where a piece of the bunny border had obviously come undone.

He could very well come undone if she didn’t get down off the blasted ladder. He had the strongest urge to go to her, run his hands up the sides of her sculpted thighs…

Hold it right there, Miller. He streaked a hand over his eyes as if that could erase the image. Man, oh, man, he was in trouble. He should get out of here, go to his favorite bar and find himself a woman. Easier said than done. Erin Brailey, with the soft spot for kids and no-holds-barred confidence, held more appeal than any woman he could think of, past or present.

“Need some help?” he asked.

She regarded him over her shoulder. “No…I’m just about done.” She smoothed the border with one long tapered hand, then slapped it for good measure. “There. Good as new.”

She backed down the rungs and once she reached the bottom, turned to face him. Using the ladder for balance, she slipped her heels back on and asked, “Did you get a good look?”

Hell, had he been that obvious? “At what?”

“Downstairs. Did you see what you wanted to?”

At the moment he’d seen much more than he’d wanted to. Correction. Needed to. “Yeah. So if you’re through hanging paper, you could show me around up here.”

She brushed a few golden strands of hair away from her face with one hand. “I’m through for now.”

“Is paper hanging in your job description, too?”

“Not exactly, but we’re lacking in volunteers. Considering the nature of this project, the fewer people who know the location, the better.”

“I’m pretty handy with a brush. Maybe I could help.”

Erin took two steps forward and studied him with eyes as blue as the sky blue walls. “I’m sure you have better ways to spend your time than painting an old house.”

“Actually, I don’t. After business hours, at least.”

She raised a thin brow. “Your wife wouldn’t mind?”

“I don’t have a wife.” Since she had broached the subject, he might as well ask. “How about you? Husband?”

She twisted the ring on her right hand. “Heavens, no.”

“Sorry subject?”

She brushed past him and stopped at the door. “You know how it is, Mr. Miller. Priorities don’t always include the husband, two-point-five kids and a golden retriever.”

He moved to stand opposite her and braced a hip against the door frame. “Yeah, I know what you mean. But surely you don’t spend all your time at work.”

“Lately, yes. I haven’t found anything that captures my passion like my work.”

“Or anyone?”

“No. Definitely not,” she said adamantly.

Zach clenched the back of his neck with one hand and studied the semiwhite drop cloth under his feet. “That’s a shame, Ms. Brailey. A real shame.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Mr. Miller. I manage.”

Pity didn’t enter into it. She wasn’t the kind of woman a man felt sorry for. He met her gaze. Big mistake. “It’s Zach, and since neither of us seems to be occupied, do you want to grab a bite to eat? I could go over a few of my concerns.”

She sighed. “That sounds very tempting, but I’m afraid I have dinner plans. He’s probably already at the restaurant.”

A strong sense of disappointment assaulted Zach, not that he was one to give up that easily. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Someone special?”

“Actually, I’m having dinner with my father.”

He straightened on that one. “You and your dad are close?”

In the time it took to blink, her expression went cold. “It’s an obligatory weekly dinner. That’s all.”

Zach wondered about the sudden change in her demeanor but thought it wise not to pursue the topic. He understood all too well the complicated dynamics between parent and child. He’d hated his father and still did, even though the man was dead.

“My father doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” she added. “So let’s go down the hall, Mr.—” Her mouth worked into a smile “—Zach.”

She could make St. Peter sin with that smile. Which, as a practiced sinner, made Zach a goner. “At least we have the name thing straight. And let’s make another deal. We say what’s on our minds, no apologies. I think that works best with business arrangements.” He held out his hand. “Is it a deal?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she grasped his hand. “Deal.”

He didn’t immediately release her hand. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and met her eyes, surprise in their blue depths. Awareness sparked between them, keen as a razor’s edge.

Checking back into reality, he dropped her hand. “Better wear gloves when you paint so you don’t ruin your hands.”

She studied her hands as if she didn’t believe him. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m not that fragile.”

No, she probably wasn’t, but he’d give up a week’s salary to find out. He might even throw in his season hockey tickets.

Zach pushed off the door thinking he’d best escape before he did something stupid. “Well, Ms. Brailey—”

“It’s Erin. Turnabout’s fair play.”

He grinned. “Okay, Erin, we should look around so you’re not late for your dinner date.”

“You’re right. Can’t keep Daddy waiting.” Her tone was laced with sarcasm.

They walked the hall, and before they reached the next room, Erin turned back to him. “Since this tour is going to have to be quick, why don’t you come by my office tomorrow? You can bring the blueprint and show me your ideas.”

Zach slipped his hands into his pockets, all too eager to accept. “Morning okay?”

“I’m afraid it will have to be later. I visit the other shelter in the mornings, and I have a board meeting at four-thirty. You could meet me after that in the boardroom. That way we’ll have access to the conference table.”

A burst of heat shot through him at the thought of what he would like to do with her on top of that table. The image came to him sharp and clear and totally unexpected. What was it about her that had his fantasies running away with his common sense? It was physical, yes, but there was more. That bothered him. He could control animal lust, but he didn’t like to deal with human need. He suspected Erin was the kind of woman who could make him reveal his darkest secrets, if he wasn’t careful. He couldn’t afford to open old wounds. “What time?”

She started back down the hall. “Six.”

Zach lagged behind so he could enjoy the view. “Good. I’ll bring dinner. Chinese okay with you?”

“Great.”

“What do you like?”

“Spicy,” she said without turning around, but he detected a smile in her voice.

If she only knew what she was doing to him, she’d probably prefer to walk back. But maybe not. Maybe she did inject passion into everything she attempted. Something told him he just might have to find out.




Two


“Fifty thousand dollars, Erin? Fifty thousand is a great deal of money.”

Erin sipped her wine and regarded her father over the bistro’s elegant gold filigree candleholder situated perfectly on the round table for two. Although Robert Brailey’s face was etched with fine lines, his neatly coifed hair now completely silver, he was still a handsome man. Even at sixty he looked much younger and every bit the prosperous politician. He’d retired two years before from his lengthy term in the state senate to reclaim his standing as a renowned corporate attorney. But the politico persona was as deeply ingrained as his love for the law, fine wine and classic cars. He wore the image well.

Erin grabbed the bottle of port and filled her glass, ignoring his disapproving stare. “I know it’s a lot of money, but I need matching funds for this project. You have access to private donors.” She tried to tamp down her desperation. “Because of the discretion involved, I can’t go out into the community and solicit donations. You know people who can help.”

He shoved his napkin aside. “You’re wasting your talents staying in social service.”

The muscles in Erin’s shoulders ached from tension. Conversations with her father always came back to his disapproval of a job that he had deemed dead-end since the day she’d accepted the position. “You might as well face it. I’m not making a career change anytime soon.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

His glare caused her to sit back and knead her hands underneath the table like an errant child. But she refused to buckle. “If I can make this work, I’ll achieve more satisfaction than any six-figure salary could provide.”

“Satisfaction doesn’t provide security.”

“I have other rewards.” For some reason Zach Miller came to mind. Obviously her hormones had run amok.

Her father cleared his throat, regaining her attention. “Until recently your greatest reward was your trust fund.”

In that instant she wanted to hate him, but as always, she couldn’t. Despite his attempts to run her life, he was still her father. She’d inherited her conviction from him, along with a good dose of stubbornness. At the moment, she needed his influence, and she would do anything, even grovel, to get it. For the shelter, she would swallow her pride.

Erin gently touched his hand. “Will you help me?”

He slid his hand from beneath hers and patted her arm. His well-rehearsed smile meant trouble. “I could investigate a few possibilities. On one condition.”

She’d been mistaken to believe that his help would come without conditions. Her sigh rose over the background hum of dinnertime conversation. “What condition?”

He took a long drink of wine and dabbed at his mouth with a mauve linen napkin. “How long will it take you to get this new shelter up and running?”

“We want to open in a month.”

“And how long to ensure its continuity?”

“If we can make a successful go of it for a year, that should convince the board it’s a worthwhile project.”

“I see.” He raised a hand to wave at some patron Erin didn’t recognize but continued to speak without missing a beat. “And if you don’t succeed, what then?”

She didn’t want to consider that possibility, although it was sheer stupidity not to. “We’ll continue business as usual with the existing shelter. We’ll just have to relocate our at-risk residents to other shelters and safe houses.”

He sat in silence for a moment longer—she assumed to consider his choice of weapons. She braced for his best shot.

“I’ll agree to help find your funding,” he said, “if you agree to consider coming to work for me if you fail.”

Gritting her teeth, she suppressed the urge to blurt out her refusal. She would be damned and desperate before she’d work for his firm under the guise of administrator, when in reality she’d be nothing more than a glorified hostess. Since her mother’s death twelve years before, he’d told her often enough he needed her in that capacity. And since her breakup with Warren, the perfect son-in-law prospect, her father never failed to remind her—not always so subtly—how great a disappointment she had been. Nothing had changed. Except Erin.

Now, more than ever, she was determined to succeed and prove him wrong. “If I do agree, would you promise to use all your resources to find the funds?”

“Are you asking would I set you up to fail?”

“It is a concern, don’t you think?”

He had never let Erin forget her former failures. Mistakes made by a rebellious sixteen-year-old girl who’d lost her mother. A teenager in desperate need of her father’s attention. Erin had gotten his attention and earned his distrust.

Robert’s face turned as stoic as the fake Roman bust in the corner. “I’ll give you my word, if that’s good enough.”

For a moment she felt ashamed. But the moment was short-lived. She needed his help, whatever his terms. She had no choice but to trust him.

Erin gathered all her inner strength and said the words she never thought she would say. “I agree to your proposal.”

Shock passed over his expression, but it didn’t take long for him to remold his face into a picture-perfect model of dignity. “Then you’ll come to work for me?”

“If the project doesn’t succeed.”

His shoulders relaxed and a victorious smile crept in. “What made you agree to my condition?”

Erin stood to make her escape. She wasn’t going to waste her time explaining how much the center meant to her. Or exactly how far she’d go to ensure its success. “Well, Father, it’s simple.” She took her purse from the back of her chair and slipped the braided strap over her shoulder. Then she produced a determined look designed to complement her parting words.

“I’m not going to fail.”



Erin left the boardroom the next afternoon in a state of euphoria. As the board members filtered out, she was met with congratulations and optimism. For the first time since she’d proposed the new shelter, she believed it was going to work.

After the last of the requisite goodbyes, she noticed a figure standing near the vacant reception desk. Cathy had gone home for the day, but the door hadn’t been locked in order to allow the board members to exit. The stranger wore a plain dark suit and his sandy hair close cropped. The shiny plastic-covered Langdon PD credentials pinned to his lapel contrasted his dull-gray eyes. She had met several men from the local department, all very nice and accommodating, but she didn’t recognize this man.

Erin approached the desk slowly, a sense of foreboding settling over her with each click-clack of her heels hitting the industrial-tiled floor. The shelter was situated a block away from the center. Normally, when there was trouble, she’d receive a call from the on-duty house manager. Maybe he wasn’t here on official business, but the determined look on his ruddy face indicated this wasn’t a social call.

Erin donned her professional smile. “May I help you?”

He was close to her height, but his deportment seemed almost predatory. “Are you Miss Brailey?”

“Yes, I’m Ms. Brailey.”

“Detective Andrews, Langdon PD,” he announced, without the offer of a handshake. “I need to speak to you immediately.”

Erin glanced at the desk clock. Zach Miller was due anytime now, but the tone in the detective’s voice told her that his business couldn’t wait. Or at least he thought it couldn’t. “I have an appointment, but I can give you a few minutes. Come on into my office.”

She led the way and, once inside, positioned herself behind the desk. She gestured to the chair Zach had occupied the day before. “Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.”

Erin remained standing, as well, to maintain an equal advantage. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

His steely gaze darted around the room before finally coming to rest on Erin. “It’s about this new shelter you’re planning. The grapevine says it’s a house for cops’ wives.”

Erin had suspected word would get out sooner or later. She’d hoped for later. “If that situation arises. Is there a problem?”

“The problem is some of us don’t like it. Makes the department look bad, you know what I mean? Bad PR for police.”

Erin gripped the back of her chair. “Actually, Detective, the proposed shelter is not targeted solely at the partners of those in law enforcement. There is a need for a safe house for women abused by anyone that would know the existing shelter’s whereabouts, in Langdon and in the surrounding suburbs, including the larger cities. Our intent is not to belittle police departments. In fact, we rely heavily on their services at our existing shelter.”

His laugh was abrupt, humorless. “No kidding. Our guys risk their necks getting involved in domestic fights. Can’t even tell you how many times when I was still working the streets I had a jealous husband threaten me. We go in there and break up their lovers’ quarrel only to have the woman bail him out the next day. People need to learn to settle their problems on their own. It’s an ever-lovin’ pain in the butt.”

No matter how much time the center had devoted to education, a select few still didn’t understand the dynamics of abuse. This man was a prime example.

Erin’s patience left the building. “No kidding,” she said, throwing his words back at him. “For the women it’s a big pain in the butt. And sometimes, the arms, the nose and so forth.”

He balled his fists at his side, his round face flushing an unnatural shade of red. “Why don’t you leave well enough alone? You’ve got one place for them, why do you need another?”

She straightened up to her full height, refusing to be intimidated by a man with questionable motives, even if he did wear a badge. “Because some men don’t understand that it’s against the law to hit their wives or girlfriends. Those wives and girlfriends need a place where no one can get to them.”

“Cops can go anywhere they want.”

“Not if they’re stopped.”

He gave her a sickening once-over, then smirked. “And who’s going to stop them? You?”

Erin opened her mouth to respond but was stopped short by a deep, controlled voice. A voice full of hatred. A voice belonging to Zach Miller.

“I will.”

Tension as thick as a winter fog settled over the small office. Neither man moved, as if facing off for a duel.

Zach tightened his grasp on the rolled blueprint he clutched in one hand. “What do you want, Andrews?”

The sour apple look on the detective’s face repulsed Erin. “This is business, Miller. And it’s none of yours.”

Zach took another step forward. “Yeah, well I don’t intend to involve myself in your business. Unless I have to.”

“Good. At least you’ve learned your place.”

“But I doubt you have.”

Erin watched Zach’s features harden as if the last vestiges of his control were slipping away. She couldn’t let that happen, so she moved from behind the desk and said, “Detective Andrews, Mr. Miller is my next appointment, so if you’re through now—” she headed to the door and held it open “—I’ll see you out.”

“Don’t bother,” Andrews retorted. “I can find my way.”

The detective strode past Zach with an acid glare. Erin closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.

Zach stood in the middle of the room with a choke hold on the blueprint as he stared at some focal point above her head.

Erin pushed off the door. “Old friend?”

He finally met her gaze, fury flashing in his dark eyes. “Old acquaintance. Not a friend.”

Zach strolled around the room. Erin didn’t speak, deciding to give him a moment to cool down.

He lifted a slat on the lone window’s dusty miniblind and peered outside into the parking lot. “Why was he here?”

“He’s curious about the new shelter.”

Zach turned away from the window, his anger almost palpable. “How does he know about it?”

“Just because we keep the proposed site’s whereabouts a secret doesn’t mean we can keep its existence from the community. The surrounding police departments know about it. So does Langdon’s police chief. We’ve always had a good rapport. I consider many of the men and women on the force good friends. In fact, almost all of them understand the need. Unfortunately, your acquaintance doesn’t.”

“That sure as hell isn’t surprising.”

Erin wanted to know why and exactly what Zach was hiding. What was his relationship with Andrews? More important, would it affect the new shelter? She walked to her desk and fumbled for a pencil and notebook. “What do you know about the detective?”

“Enough to know the bastard’s trouble.”

“I gather you two have a history.”

Zach tapped the end of the desk with the blueprint. “Yeah, one I’m not willing to go into.”

The intensity of his deep voice warned Erin not to press, even though she dearly wanted to. Eventually she would have to find an opportune time. But not now. Not while he was in such an agitated state. “Are you ready to get to work now?”

“Sure.” He sent her a brief smile. “I left the food at the front desk. Where to?”

“The conference room.”



Zach sat across from Erin at the mile-long table and stared at his food. Today Ron Andrews had ruined his appetite. Three years ago he’d ruined Zach’s career. Every time he came in contact with Andrews, Zach was reminded of another ruthless man who also had been respected in his field. His own father.

As a successful physician, Vernon Miller should have been Zach’s mentor. Instead he’d been his shame. Something Zach would have to live with for the rest of his life. Something that had colored his judgment during a time when he’d needed clear thinking the most. But he hadn’t realized the error of his ways until it had been too late. Until he had failed another woman, just like he’d failed his mother.

“This is great.”

Erin’s comment drew Zach’s attention back to her. He noticed she had no trouble eating. She wrapped her pretty mouth around an egg roll, waking another kind of hunger in his gut, bringing to mind all sorts of possibilities.

At least she served as a nice diversion from the earlier encounter. He wondered what she really thought about the confrontation, and then decided he didn’t want to know. His past was his, and he didn’t want to share it with anyone.

Zach pushed the recollections and food away, then stacked his hands behind his neck and leaned back in the chair. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Umm-hmm,” she said around a bite of Szechwan chicken. “I didn’t have time for lunch.” She sipped from a foam cup of iced tea. “You didn’t eat much.”

“I’m not that hungry.” At least not for food.

He expected her to make some comment about Andrews but instead she said, “I’m all done, so let’s get to work.”

A code of honor among police officers prevented him from revealing too much to her. To anyone. He appreciated the fact she didn’t prod him for information. He appreciated a lot of things about Erin Brailey.

They cleared the red-and-white cartons away so Zach could roll the shelter’s floor plan out onto the table. Erin anchored the blueprint at the corners with her beige briefcase, a spiral notebook and two stacks of Rainbow Center’s trifold pamphlets.

Hands braced wide on the table, she leaned forward to study the plan. Zach stood behind her, the smell of her perfume drifting into his nostrils. The scent was pleasant, erotic. So was the dress she wore—sleeveless, high-necked, soft blue material that clung to every curve. A man-killing outfit. He should know. He was about to die right there on the spot.

After a good internal scolding, he leaned around her and pointed to the plan. “I’ll set up two sensors here in the living room, wires on every window.” He indicated the front door. “Key pad here. You can arm the system from this point, or in the back room where the resident manager stays.”

“What about outside?” she asked.

“Motion lights.” Despite his caution, he moved closer. Now almost flush against her back, his body paid the price. When he gestured at the plan again, their arms brushed, sending a rush of fire through him. If that’s all it took, one simple touch, then he wondered if he’d survive kissing her. Why the hell he was considering that, he couldn’t say. His thoughts had crossed into dangerous territory. Right now kissing her was foremost on his mind. Something to rid him of anger over the confrontation. Something to make him forget. But he needed to step back, proceed with caution.

“If there’s a security breach and the guard needs backup, who will answer the call?” she asked.

“I will.”

She straightened and looked over her shoulder, bringing their bodies into closer proximity and their faces only inches apart. She was so close. Too close for his comfort. He wasn’t giving her much space. He didn’t want to.

“What if you’re busy?” she asked, challenge in her tone.

Zach found it harder and harder to concentrate on business. Strong desire stirred down south, and he cautioned himself to maintain control. “I carry a cell phone at all times. If I’m out of reach, one of my other men can handle it. But I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

The comment echoed in the room, suspending the moment. He inched back a step, giving his body some much-needed relief.

Erin turned her attention back to the plan. “Upstairs?”

“The same. Sensors above and on the windows. And more motion-sensitive lights.”

“That’s good. Night is a vulnerable time. But it’s my favorite time.”

He found himself moving closer again, her sultry voice drawing him like a magnet. “You’re a night person, too?”

“If I could I’d stay up all night and sleep all day.”

“So would I.”

Electricity coursed through him and settled directly below his belt. He needed to get away from her soon, or he just might give in to some damned sinful ideas. But his feet seemed stapled to the floor, and he continued to lose himself in the sound of her sexy voice, at his body’s expense.

“How do you spend your nighttime hours?” she asked, but still didn’t turn around.

“TV, reading. Sometimes I pop open a beer and listen to my favorite jazz. And sometimes I cook.” He’d never spoken so freely about his personal life with a woman. He’d learned not to reveal even that much of himself. But Erin Brailey was no ordinary woman.

Her laugh was full of surprise, not judgment. “You cook? That’s great. I can’t operate the microwave.” She glanced back at him again. “Are you good?”

The way she said it made him wonder if the question had more to do with his performance in bed than his culinary talents. Probably just wishful thinking on his part. Either way, the answer was the same. “I’d like to think so.”

She studied the plan again. “I’m sure you are.”

Her whisper-soft words made him think of her in his arms, naked beneath him. “What do you do at night?” he asked.

“Nothing much. A cup of tea and a hot bath.”

The image of Erin soaking in a tub did nothing to squelch his lust. “Alone?” Careful, Miller.

“I believe we’ve already established that.”

“No one to scrub your back?”

“I have a brush. It does the trick.”

The last thread of his control was badly frayed and ready to snap. Yet he didn’t have the will to stop. “But it sure isn’t as much fun as the real thing, is it?”

“That depends on what you mean by the ‘real thing.’”

With every syllable she uttered, Zach’s objectivity took another step toward the door, the excuse he needed to forget his responsibility. Forget why they were here and why he needed to steer clear. “Don’t you get lonely, Erin?”

“Sometimes. A little.” Only a partial truth, Erin acknowledged. She was more than a little lonely. She missed having someone to curl up with on the sofa, someone to have dinner with in front of the TV, the physical presence of a man. And, whether she cared to admit it or not, lovemaking.

But she didn’t miss the emotional upheaval or the betrayal or the control. Still, she found herself wondering how far she was willing to go with a man like Zach Miller, a protector, something she didn’t need. And a business associate to boot. But he made her feel alive. Feel things she had suppressed for months. Maybe she could indulge just a little, from a physical standpoint. As long as she guarded her heart.

Zach’s warm breath trailed over her neck, and she shivered. “Are you cold?” he asked.

“Yes.” Liar.

He stroked his palms down her bare arms, from shoulders to elbows, then back up again. She relaxed against him, relishing his gentle touch. The strength he radiated unearthed long-dormant carnal urges. “This is much better than a hot bath.”

He brushed her hair aside and moved his lips to her ear. “Are you sure about this, Erin?”

“No. I’m only sure about one thing. I’m tired of talking.”

“Then answer one more question. When was the last time you were kissed? I mean really kissed.”

Her breath rode out on a sigh. “Too long.”

“That’s too bad.”

He turned her around, and she met his midnight gaze, intense, hypnotic, seductive. As if in slow motion, he lowered his mouth to hers. She responded with a pent-up hunger that matched his urgency. She opened to him, accepted the play of his tongue as it entered her parted lips. The spicy taste of him staggered her senses, and a surge of heat charged through her, settling in places long neglected for lack of time or want.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should stop. Stop him. Stop herself. But she wanted this. More than she’d wanted anything in a long time. She would consider the consequences later. Right now she wanted to feel, not to think.

Disregarding the blueprint, Zach lifted Erin up and placed her on the edge of the table without leaving her eager mouth. He moved between her legs, parting them. She felt her skirt ride high up her thighs, way past the point of decency. Her mind reeled from the explosive chemistry that had destroyed her ability to reason, made her long for more. Here and now.

To her dismay Zach broke the kiss but kept his hands poised on her stocking-clad thighs and his dark gaze locked on her face. He inched his fingers under the hem, taking away her breath and her last bit of resolve.

“Tell me to stop, Erin.”

The word formed in Erin’s mind, then floated away like a delicate leaf caught in the wind.

Zach plied her neck with brushstroke kisses. “I want you, Erin. Now. So tell me to leave.”

“No.” She barely recognized her voice. She barely recognized herself.

With an animal groan Zach brought her hips forward to the edge of the table, and his mouth back to hers. Her awareness centered on his thumbs lightly stroking her thighs, his intoxicating kiss. The heavy pulse of desire washed her whole body in liquid heat, robbing her of all thoughts and protests.

Madness, she thought. Absolute madness that she would allow this to happen here, when anyone could walk in. But an uncontrollable need had brought them to this point. A place where only passion existed, away from past mistakes. For once Erin wanted to lose control.

Erin registered a sound filtering through the sensual haze. Then from somewhere far off came a rap at the door.




Three


“Erin, are you in there?”

Gil’s familiar voice was ice water, dousing Zach’s ardor. Running on instinct, Zach stepped back and helped Erin from the table. He pulled out a nearby chair and sat, needing to disguise the effect the spontaneous foreplay had on his body. He scooted the chair under the table and straightened the wrinkled blueprint as best he could, a reminder of his total loss of control. Erin Brailey was making him crazy.

In a flash Erin smoothed her dress and sent him a concerned look as she walked to the door. “Come in, Gil.”

Gil Parks stepped inside the room wearing his standard blue suit and an accountant’s expression. “I needed—” His glance went from Zach to Erin, then back to Zach. He pushed his wire-framed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. A knowing smile lifted his lips. “Miller, fancy meeting you here.”

Zach sucked in a deep breath. “Gil, how’s it going?”

“Fine. Don’t get up.”

Thank God for small favors. Zach couldn’t stand if he wanted. Not without losing his dignity.

Zach shot a glance in Erin’s direction. Her lips looked swollen and bruised from heated kisses. The red patch on her chin revealed the first signs of whisker burn. He had done that to her. That fact brought on another rush of excitement. Then came the guilt when he saw that the blush on her cheeks had faded, and she looked pale. His fault, too.

“Am I interrupting something?” Gil asked.

“Not really.”

Erin’s voice was amazingly calm, but Zach realized that only a fool wouldn’t notice her appearance. Gil was no fool, but he was a good friend. Gil wouldn’t say anything to embarrass either of them. Not in front of Erin, anyway.

“Ms. Brailey and I have been going over the security plans,” Zach said, affecting nonchalance.

Gil stroked his bearded chin like a pet. “Ah. Did you get a lot accomplished?”

Erin brushed her hair away from her face with one hand. “Yes, but we’re about ready to wrap it up. What did you need?”

“Actually, I have Zach’s contract. Thought you might want to go over the financial aspects. Since he’s here, I can review it with you both.”

Erin grabbed for her briefcase. “You guys can work it out. I need to get home. Check my messages. Feed the cat.”

Gil’s smile was cynical. “You don’t have a cat, Erin.”

“That’s right, I don’t. But you never can tell when one might show up on your doorstep. I really need to go.”

Zach stared at Erin. The little minx was bailing out on him. “Yeah, you do that, Ms. Brailey. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She strode toward the door. With a hand on the knob, she turned to face them both, but she looked at Zach. “Good night, Gil. And Mr. Miller, thanks for your time. See you around.”

“Have a good night,” Zach called as she headed out the door. “Enjoy your bath.”

Erin sent him a don’t-you-dare look as she closed the door.

Gil’s chuckle echoed in the barren room. “Damn, Miller, you don’t waste any time, do you?”

Zach decided playing dumb might be in his best interest. “There’s not much time to get the security kinks worked out.”

Gil leaned back against the table, arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of him. “Come off it. Erin’s all business. Under normal circumstances she’d insist on going over the contract with a fine-tooth comb. Obviously she’s all shook up. I have the distinct feeling that’s your fault.”

“She’s in a hurry. Probably ready for bed.”

“You both look ready for bed.” Gil laughed again. “You and Erin Brailey. What a match. Sorry I didn’t think of it.”

“You been drinking, Gil?” Zach hated the fact he sounded so defensive. He’d always been good at hiding his emotions.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Zach. But I tell you right now, you’re playing with fire if you’re playing with Erin.”

He’d already been scorched. “How so?”

Gil pulled out another chair and tossed a folder onto the table. “She’s a tough cookie. She comes from money. Big daddy used to be a state senator, and nothing’s more important than his little girl. He probably eats her boyfriends for lunch.”

Zach streaked a hand over his face and cursed his stupidity. “So Erin is the esteemed Robert Brailey’s daughter. What else do you know about her? Personally, I mean.”

“She’s driven, never been married. She did live with some guy for a while, an attorney in her father’s firm. I’d say she’s pretty much married to her work these days.”

That much Zach knew. “Then she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“No.” Gil’s lewd grin made another appearance. “Are you intending to bid for that job, too?”

“No way.” He didn’t sound all that confident. “I like her, but I don’t do relationships.”

“No, my man, that you don’t. I’ve known that since we were high school freshmen, and you were breaking all the girls’ hearts on a regular basis. But in spite of her father, you couldn’t do better than Erin. She’s sexy as hell. Smart, too.”

“No kidding,” Zach muttered. Yet tonight she hadn’t been too smart. But then how would she know that staying away from him would be the best thing for both of them?

Gil’s chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh. “Looks to me like she has you by the jewels, Miller.”

“Where’s that damn contract?” Zach asked, refusing to admit Gil Parks was right on the money. Erin had him all right, he just wasn’t sure what she intended to do with him.



Erin had no idea what to do about him. She tossed and turned in bed, unable to clear her mind of Zach Miller.

Brushing her fingertips over her collarbone, she recalled the feel of his hands on her. His mouth on hers. Although the ceiling fan whirred above her and she wore nothing more than a frown, she might as well be decked out in a parka. She felt hot, restless, needy.

Rolling over, she buried her face in the satin-covered pillow. What had she been thinking to let things go so far? Better still, what did he think of her now?

She had never experienced such a total loss of restraint. She had never so much as held hands with anyone in a professional setting. Not even Warren. Not that Warren would have ever considered doing something so spontaneous. During their two years together, he had barely touched her in public. They had been professional people living professional lives. Somehow she had fallen in love with him, anyway, or at least she’d thought she had. He’d used that to his advantage, taking what she could give him—more accurately, what her father could give him—and then eventually left her behind when she couldn’t live up to his ideal of the proper attorney’s wife.

Zach seemed different. More down-to-earth. Strong and sensual. A man who knew how to kiss a woman. How to caress a woman. A man in control. The type of man she had vowed to avoid from now on. She needed to be in control.

Still, she itched to get beneath his skin and find out his secrets. After his confrontation with the detective, she had witnessed his anger. Later she’d seen sadness in his dark eyes. Despite his tough facade, she sensed his compassion. Not many men would provide a service to a women’s shelter without garnering any profit for their fledgling company. She wondered if he had some other motivating force. She wanted to find out.

She’d call him tomorrow. Maybe even apologize for her reckless behavior. Truth was, she wasn’t at all sorry. And if she had it to do all over again, she wouldn’t change a thing. That was a dangerous concept. She could stand to lose a lot, namely her heart.

No, she wouldn’t allow that. If anything happened between her and Zach Miller, it wouldn’t go beyond the physical. She did want him, she couldn’t deny that. And apparently he wanted her, too. So what was wrong with indulging in a little physical gratification? They were both consenting adults. And it had been a very long time.

Then something occurred to her. What if Zach withdrew his offer because of what was happening between them? He didn’t look too pleased when she’d left him alone with Gil. Surely he wouldn’t. But how could she be certain?

She couldn’t wait until morning to make the call. She would never get any sleep unless she knew things were okay between them and she hadn’t compromised her plans for the shelter.

Glancing at the clock, she realized it was nearing midnight. But Zach had said he was a night person. If her hunch was correct, he was probably still up.



Midnight came and Zach was still up, in many respects. He’d downed his second cup of coffee in the comfort of his well-worn leather lounger and was starting on his third.

The monotonous tick of the clock broke the silence in his apartment. He considered turning on the stereo and immersing himself in the mournful sounds of a saxophone. But he wasn’t in the mood for music. What he was in the mood for required a more hands-on approach.

Yeah, thanks to Erin Brailey he couldn’t fall asleep even if his mental health depended on it. Luckily he didn’t require much rest. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get much in the nights to come unless he made a conscious effort to get her out of his system. What that entailed he had no idea.

The shrill of the phone brought him out of his musings.

Damn. All he needed right now was some kind of security crisis that his men couldn’t handle. Then again, maybe that’s exactly what he needed. Something to get his mind off Erin.

He reached for the cordless phone on the end table and answered with his pat, “Miller here.”

“Were you asleep?”

The sultry sound of her voice brought every part of him to attention. He pulled the lounger upright, almost tipping the coffee into his lap. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Erin?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah? Me, neither,” he admitted, although he wasn’t sure why. But for some reason he couldn’t imagine being anything but honest with Erin from now on. Which meant someday soon he’d have to tell her the truth about Andrews. But not tonight.

“I wanted to tell you I appreciate the work you’re doing with the shelter,” she continued. “I also wanted to say I enjoyed this evening.”

When the thought of Erin’s kisses filtered into his brain, he set the coffee cup down on the table. If he didn’t, he’d be in danger of garnering third-degree burns on his bare chest or another strategic area. “Could’ve fooled me, the way you hightailed it out of there.”

“I know. I guess I should apologize for leaving you alone to deal with Gil. Did he suspect anything?”

“Everything.”

Her laugh was warm, sexy. “He’s a good friend. He’ll probably just let it go.”

Not anytime soon, Zach thought, but decided not to mention that. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

“I’m not sorry at all.”

He tightened his grip on the receiver. “You’re not?”

“No. Does that surprise you?”

Hell, yeah. She was full of surprises. “The last thing I wanted was to embarrass you in front of your colleague.”

“I’m not worried about Gil. I just didn’t want you to think this sort of thing happens to me all the time.”

That thought pleased him. “How often has it happened?”

“Never.”

Now he was doubly pleased. “I’m glad.”

Her soft sigh floated through the line. “This thing between us could really complicate matters, Zach.”

“Only if we let it.”

“We still have a business arrangement, don’t we?”

So now he knew why she had called. To make sure everything was okay with the shelter. He understood and admired her concern. He just hoped that wasn’t her only motivation. “Sure. Nothing’s changed with my plans for the shelter. And as far as our business dealings are concerned, we can differentiate between business and pleasure.”

“That could be hard to do.”

If she kept talking to him in that breathless way of hers, he’d be facing a long, hard night. “Let’s take it one day at a time for now. Get to know each other better.”

“Then whatever happens, happens. Right?” She spoke as though she already knew what would happen. Then so did he.

He thought about the conference room, and he realized how hard it would be to keep his hands off her. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

“Speaking of getting to know each other, have you ever…” She hesitated. “Never mind.”

He was more than curious. “Ever what, Erin? Like I told you before, it’s best to just say what’s on your mind.”

A long silence followed, then she asked, “Have you ever indulged in a safe fantasy?”

That got his attention. Every inch of him. “How do you mean?”

“Talk about fantasies. Over the phone.”

He swallowed hard. “No. Have you?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to. The phone allows you a certain amount of freedom to express yourself. Let go of inhibitions. Don’t you agree?”

“I’ve never thought about it before, but I guess you’re right.” He’d never had phone sex before, either, if that’s what she was proposing. But no one would ever accuse him of not being willing to try something at least once. “I’m game.”

“Out of curiosity, what are you wearing?”

He bolted out of the chair and knocked his knee on the coffee table. Even the shooting pain didn’t hinder the impact of her question. “You want details?”

“Yes. I’m trying to picture you. Where are you?”

He paced back and forth in front of the sofa. “I’m standing in my living room wearing boxers. Dark blue. That’s all.”

“Really?” She sounded disappointed.

“They come off when I go to bed.”

Another long pause suspended the conversation. Although he was wading through treacherous waters, he couldn’t let her off the hook. “How about you? What are you wearing?”

“A satin robe.”

“What color?”

“Lilac.”

“Underneath it?”

“Nothing at all.”

Okay, he’d asked for that. “Are you in bed?”

“Right now I’m sitting on a chaise on my balcony. It’s a beautiful night. Clear. Lots of stars. I can smell the gardenias below my window.”




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