Cursed (8 page)

With as much dignity as she could
possibly muster, Tess straightened her shoulders. She wanted to believe him,
but how could she when all the evidence pointed directly to him?  Even as
tears stung the backs of her eyes and the pain inside her soul intensified, she
lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “I’ll give you one week to turn
yourself in and give me back my pendant. After that, I’m going straight to
Abel. I’ll tell him everything.”

Chapter Four

Nick gave the pot of sauce sitting on his
stove another stir and glanced at the clock. Nearly six-fifteen. He smirked.
Figures she’d be late since he’d specifically said six. Anything to put him off
guard but he was a seasoned cop with years of experience in the art of
interrogation. She had almost as much experience being a prosecutor so the
evening should prove to be very interesting.

     He turned down the
flame under a large pot of water that was just starting to bubble. No use
putting in the pasta until she got here. His dog, Metro, a large black
Labrador, lay sprawled in the middle of the kitchen floor, his body twitching
in the throes of some dream.

     Nick smiled, headed
for the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of wine. The doorbell rang. Metro
woke and scrambled to his feet. “Let the games begin,” Nick mumbled to himself
placing the bottle of wine onto the black granite counter top beside the
refrigerator.

     Metro barked twice
and trotted out of the kitchen ahead of Nick into the hallway. Nick strolled to
the front door where Metro stood growling in a low tone with his tail wagging

and his nose pushed into the crack between
the jamb and the door. He sniffed several times then lifted his large paw and
gave the door a swipe. Nick smoothed a hand over the dog’s head. “Easy, boy.”

     He checked the peep
hole then opened the door. Bitter cold wind rushed in, sweeping over his body.
Metro bounded over the threshold onto the porch and pushed his muzzle into
Hope’s stomach asking for attention, his tail whipping about in a wide circle.

     She smiled down at
the dog and rubbed him vigorously while she murmured to him in the same voice
adults used when they talked to babies. Metro laved her hand in turn with his
big, pink tongue.

     “Metro, let the
woman inside before she freezes.” Nick chuckled. Still smiling, Hope turned her
attention from Metro to Nick. Even though the night was cold enough to freeze a
man’s balls, Nick suddenly felt enveloped in warmth from the top of his head to
the tips of his toes. Inwardly, he shook himself. What was
that
about?
Keep
your mind on the case, not her smile
.

     Hope wore a long,
dark coat buttoned up to her chin with a red muffler wrapped around her neck.
In one glove-covered hand, she held a large white bag with thin plastic
handles.

     “Sorry I’m late.”
Her sexy voice skittered down his spine again, even stronger this time, but he
brushed the feeling away.

He opened the door wide “No problem. Come
in.”

     Metro pushed ahead
of her then moved his big body around facing the door. He had a silly grin
plastered on his face and his entire body shook with excitement at having a
guest.

     Hope stepped inside
the house and brushed past Nick. She smelled like pure woman mingled with some
subtle scent designed to drive a man wild. Good diversionary tactic. He refused
to allow her feminine wiles to get to him.

     “I went home to
change.” She gave him another smile and held up the bag. “Then I stopped for
dessert.”

     Why did she have to
say dessert?

     She looked like all
the sweet temptation a man could stand. Her black hair was loose and windblown;
the glossy strands tumbled about her shoulders and shone richly under the
entryway light. He realized he’d never seen her with her hair down. It made her
look less like a lawyer and more like a woman. Not good. Guilt crawled through
his belly for noticing even though his wife, Rachel, had been gone for over two
years. He welcomed the guilt. It would help keep his mind on the case instead
of her looks.

     “Let me take your
coat...” He nudged aside the guilt that his attraction to Hope brought. When he
slipped it from her shoulders, his fingers brushed the ends of her hair. The
tendrils felt like silk and little ribbons of heat filled his stomach.
Okay,
stop this crazy attraction
. This was business, he reminded himself, not a
date. He had asked her here to uncover information about her brother. Nothing
more.

     She wore a long, red
skirt with a black sweater that fit snugly to her body, hugging her hips and
the tops of her thighs. Soft, black suede boots covered her feet. The
off-the-shoulder neckline of her sweater gave Nick a nice view of her neck and
the slope of her generous breasts.

     A gold medallion
with some kind of green stone in the center and hints of gold running through
it rested just below the hollow of her throat. Her chest moved slowly up and
down as she breathed, and Nick felt mesmerized.

     “Dinner smells
delicious ...” Hope glanced around the entryway.

     Her words startled
Nick out of his sensuous haze. He was crossing the line and he couldn’t let that
happen. Nick tore his gaze away from her chest and hung her coat in the hall
closet. “Dinner’s almost ready.”  He turned toward the kitchen.

     When Hope stepped
into the kitchen she paused a moment and looked around. The overhead light
beamed down, illuminating her violet eyes. “Nice.”

     “Thanks. The house
belonged to my grandmother. Took a lot of remodeling. I’m starting on the
backyard next.”  He welcomed the idle chitchat. Somehow, it made things
easier.

     “Mind if I put this
in the fridge?” She held up the white bag again.

     “Go ahead.” He
gestured toward the refrigerator. “Would you like a glass of wine? I was just
about to open a bottle.”

     “Sure.”

     Hope walked to the freezer,
dug something out of the bag she still held in her hand and set it inside. The
rest of whatever was in the bag, she put into the refrigerator.

     Metro went back to
his spot in the middle of the kitchen floor and lay down. He turned his head from
Nick to Hope and back again while his tail swished lazily against the floor.

     “I hope you like hot
fudge sundaes.”

     Her casual statement
caught him off guard. A sudden, vivid memory struck Nick in the center of his
heart. Rachel sat at a picnic table in the park with Metro at her feet. Her
blonde hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was barefoot and wore cutoffs
with a pink tank top. Her brown eyes sparkled up at him as she spooned a large
dollop of the hot fudge sundae into her mouth.

     He shook away the
memory, turned to Hope from where he stood next to the stove and gave her a
smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah, who doesn’t?” Nick turned back to the stove to
hide his emotions. Damn Hope for making him remember that particular day. It
was right before Rachel found out she had cancer.

     He gave himself a
couple of more minutes to pull himself together. By the time he poured the
wine, he’d restored his good humor. When he handed her a glass, their fingers
brushed, their eyes met. She took a sip and then licked her lips. He followed
the movement of her tongue for a moment and felt desire slip to his groin.

     “You’ve got quite a
touch with plants,” she said, snapping him out of his sexual reverie.

     She wandered over to
the bay window in the end of the kitchen. The kitchen floor tile extended all
the way into the bay. Several potted plants he had cultivated in his greenhouse
and then moved indoors to enjoy during the winter, sat on freestanding wire
shelving.

     “I have a greenhouse
in the back. I’ll take you out there later if you’d like.”

     She smiled. “I’d
like that.”

     In a few minutes,
they settled comfortably at his breakfast table munching on a crisp green salad
and bowls of fresh pasta. He listened to Hope make all sorts of mmm sounds.

     Rachel had always
picked at her food, but Hope consumed it with relish. He liked watching her eat
without concern for fat and calories. “You really enjoy food, don’t you?”

     “You bet.” She
patted her lips with her napkin. “There’s nothing better than a home cooked
meal. Food always tastes better when someone else fixes it.” She took a sip of
wine then set down her glass and looked at him. The bright light over the table
accented the warm expression in her eyes, the lids covered with just a hint of
makeup. Her lips appeared pink and full and infinitely kissable. The sharp
point of guilt needled him again.

     “Thank you for
making dinner but it wasn’t necessary.”

     He shrugged one
shoulder. “I enjoy cooking, especially when I have someone to cook for.”

     She dug back into
her pasta. “I rarely cook. When I do, it’s usually a disaster. Cooking is
Cullinan’s department.” She lifted a forkful of pasta to her mouth.

     Nick twirled
spaghetti onto his fork and took a bite. The flavors in the sauce melted on his
tongue. “Your brother appears to be many things. Not only does he cook but, he
owns a very successful antique business.” Nick paused for a moment choosing his
words carefully. “What else does he do?”

     Her lilac eyes
lifted slowly and stared at him. She rested her fork on the side of her pasta
bowl. “Cullinan told me you asked a lot of questions the other day.” She
avoided a direct answer to his question.

     “I understand you’ve
been assigned to Abel’s case.”

     “That’s right.”

     Hope picked up her
wine glass. She took a sip watching him over the rim. When she lowered her
glass, a drop of wine glistened on her lower lip. He had an almost overwhelming
desire to sweep away that drop with a kiss. Before he could do anything about
it, her light pink tongue darted out and licked it away. He straightened,
turned his attention away from her mouth and back to his food.

     What was he
thinking? She was the exact opposite of his wife. How could he possibly be
attracted to her?  Cops did not get involved with suspects. Wait a minute,
she’s not a suspect. Or is she?

     You’re a detective.
Do your job
.

     “So what have you
learned so far in the case?”

     He couldn’t really
talk to her about the case even though she worked in the D.A.’s office.
Although he’d been suspicious of Cullinan from the beginning, now his
suspicions focused on Hope as well.

     According to his
research, the Dove was part of a family of thieves. He skimmed his gaze over
her beautiful face. Had Hope spent her nights stealing jewels before she
redeemed herself and decided to uphold the law rather than break it?  So
what if she had? Should that make any difference in how he conducted the case?

     “I’ll let you know.
We’re still checking out a few leads.”    Was she scoping out the
house the night of the party? The report said nothing about her being there but
maybe she had been there earlier? Or maybe some other time when there weren’t
all those people around.

After all, she was an attorney in the D.A.’s
office and the crime occurred at his house. He leaned back in his chair. “Is
Cullinan your only sibling?”

     “One and only.”

     “You look nothing
alike.”

     She threw him a half
smile. “My mother couldn’t get pregnant, so they adopted Cullinan ... then
three years later I was born.”

     “Yeah, it happens
like that sometimes. Ever been married?”

     She raised her
brows. “Have you?”

     Her softly spoken
question echoed through him. In his mind, he saw Rachel’s face, her loving
eyes, vivid smile and blonde hair that rioted around her head in a mass of
curls. Deep in his heart, he still loved and missed her and he knew he always
would. So, how could he be attracted to another woman, especially
this
woman?
Her brother’s a suspect in a burglary case. “Yeah, I was married. She
died.”  Sadness welled up inside him.

     Compassion filled
Hope’s face and eyes. She reached over and laid her hand over his.

     Her fingers felt
warm, soft and entirely feminine. “I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly.

     A fragile emotional
thread wove through the air between them. Nick slid his hand from under hers
effectively stopping the loom of desire. What was he going to do about the
attraction that arced between them? Not a damn thing, he told himself firmly.

     “Did you grow up in
Colorado?” he asked changing the subject.

     “Yes, Castle Rock.”

     Nick bit back a
smile. He’d finally caught her in a lie. She didn’t grow up in a small Colorado
town. In fact, she moved around a lot. According to his sources, she and
Cullinan settled here in the early nineties while Hope attended law school.