Internal Affair (7 page)

With squinty eyes, Benson turned to her. “Li, meet me inside.”

“Yes, sir.” Her parents had also taught her the importance of acknowledging the power of superiors and following the rules. She’d gladly leave this pissing contest to the higher paygrades.

As she walked up to the house, her phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the text.

Call me later.

Shoving the phone away, she wondered how Daire had managed to text her while he still duked it out verbally with her boss. He was a man of many talents, apparently, and the stupid part of her hoped she’d learn every one of them.

Chapter Four

“I’m an absolute fucking moron.” Daire stood looking at the take-out meal he’d placed on the dining table and couldn’t believe what he’d done. There were something like a gazillion choices of food in Boston and yet he’d picked up Chinese. Riding on pure autopilot from the long and stressful day, he’d gone to his favorite place for take-out without thinking it through.

Now he was about to serve Americanized Chinese food to an actual Chinese American. She was going to think he was either an idiot or a clueless form of racist. He hoped she’d be kind and think he fit the former category because, Jesus, the truth was her race had barely registered with him. When he looked at her, he only saw beauty and temptation.

Rubbing his forehead, he calculated how long he had before she’d be over. Maybe he had time to toss this stuff in the refrigerator and order a pizza to be delivered. Yeah, that would do it. The doorbell pealed. Or maybe not.

As his cock came to life, he realized the upside of his stupidity could be to turn her off enough that he’d give up any idea of a more personal relationship. Otherwise, they were both in trouble because the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her. Worse—way, way worse—earlier, as they stood outside Forrester’s house, he’d seen some glimmer of emotion in her eyes toward him.

Relief, that’s what he’d seen. And appreciation. On the ride back to his office, he’d also realized she’d called him when there’d been no reason to. It had been a stupid thing to do, in fact, pissing off her boss and calling attention to herself and the investigation in a way that wouldn’t do her any good. Almost as stupid as his ordering Chinese food.

The primitive part of his male mind, however, loved the idea she thought of him in her time of need. He wanted to be there for her, had clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her and pulling her into a consoling hug. And when Benson had turned his ire on her, even for a few seconds, he’d wanted to pound the man into the ground.

Man, his long stretch of celibacy had broken in a major and totally inappropriate manner.

When he opened the door and saw the look in Parker’s eyes, though, he knew he wasn’t alone in his poor judgment. She wanted him as well. He could see it right there only for a few seconds before she drew down the mental blinds again. But he had seen it and his dick had, too. It pulsed in an effort to do the vertical Snoopy dance of happiness.

The sensation robbed him of his breath and sent enough adrenaline coursing through his body to chase his fatigue away. Itchy palms wanted to reach out and touch anything they could get a hold of. As he had earlier in the day, he curled his fingers in tight. His grip on the doorknob threatened to bust the thing right off.

When his lungs finally managed to take in some air, it wheezed out of him again. He coughed in a pathetic attempt to hide his own reaction to seeing her and stepped aside. “Come on in.”

He automatically helped her take off her coat, his fingers brushing the back of her neck by accident. She twitched in a shiver that ran down her spine. She whirled out of the coat and his reach so quickly he knew she was trying to hide her response to his simple touch. The way she practically raced to the dining table confirmed his suspicions. He should have been appalled at the confirmation that the attraction constituted a two-way street. But this was the first time that part of him he’d frozen up since his parents’ deaths had started to thaw. The yearning welling up inside him overwhelmed his rational side.

Of course, now the object of his desire stared down at dinner. He’d taken everything out of the cartons and plated them because his mother hadn’t raised barbarians. That was something he supposed. He hustled to the other side of the table and grimaced.

“Sorry, I kind of suffered a brain fa—” He cut himself off, remembering he wasn’t living in the land of rude boys anymore. “I mean I just picked up what I like without thinking through…anything,” he finished lamely.

Parker’s face lit up in an impish grin. There was really no other way to describe her expression. “You think I don’t like Chinese food?” She cocked her head at him with raised eyebrows.

He sighed. “I’m sure you like authentic Chinese food, but I bet your mother never puts any of this on her table.”

“That’s true.” She reached over and plucked up a spring roll. “It just so happens I like this Americanized version, too.” So saying, she bit into the roll with an audible crunch. When parts of the crispy wrap fell down, as they inevitably do, she lifted her palm to catch them, then licked them back up.

Daire stood mesmerized by her actions. Her prim façade faded as she popped the second half of the roll in her mouth. She licked the grease off her fingers with delicate swipes of her pink tongue. He couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop yearning as she then took a seat and dished portions of General Gau’s chicken and brown rice on one of the plates he’d set out. Two crab Rangoon rounded out the serving.

She twisted open one of the bottles of soda he’d ordered with the meal and glanced up at him. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something ridiculous like feasting on the sight of her was enough. God, lack of sex with another person had turned his brain to mush. Pulling out a chair, he sat across from her and grabbed the plate of beef and broccoli. “I’m glad you’re not offended by my food choice.”

Parker swallowed her mouthful. “Why would I be? You mean you thought I might think your choosing Chinese was some kind of dig at my heritage?”

Daire winced. “Yeah, it occurred to me about two seconds before you rang the bell.”

She laughed, a high, bright sound. “No chance. I’ve seen racism directed toward me plenty of times and believe me, I don’t get that vibe from you at all, sir.”

Her reassurance relaxed him, or at least it chased away his concerns. He didn’t think he could be truly relaxed in this woman’s presence. The formality of her address rankled for some reason, even though it was perfectly correct under the circumstances. Thank God Parker had the good sense to keep some kind of barrier between them. A wise man would follow her example.

But the password for the night was “stupid” so he said, “Daire.” When she raised her eyebrows again, he clarified. “Call me Daire, remember? You’re eating at my table, so I think first names are appropriate.”

She didn’t look convinced. Before she could say anything in response, her phone rang. The ringtone was Happy by Pharrell, which amused him and spoke volumes about his guest’s personality. “Sorry, I need to get this.” When she answered, it was in Chinese, although he couldn’t tell which dialect. Mandarin or Cantonese perhaps.

Parker spoke with obvious fluency, and while Daire had no idea what she said, her tone and expression conveyed exasperation. He ate his food and tried to pretend he wasn’t listening. A minute or two later, she hung up.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry, that was my mother. I was getting an earful, make that another earful, for not showing up on Sunday for dinner. I thought she’d gotten the tongue lashing out of the way when I called to cancel. Apparently not.” She picked up her fork and tucked back into her meal.

“How does she feel about your being a cop?” And why would he ask such a personal question? His cock twitched to remind him why.

“She says she hates it, that it is a terrible career choice. But I’ve also heard her brag about her daughter the cop at her mahjong games with her friends.” She bit a crab Rangoon in half, chewed, and chased it down with a sip of soda. “I think the thing she’s most upset about is my blowing off the guy she picked out for me.”

Wow, how had she lost so many of her brain cells so quickly? It seemed like every time she was in Daire’s presence, a few more flew out of her ears, or something. Her self-control held on by a thin thread, too, because all she could think of at the moment was to knock everything off the table and wrestle him onto it. Not even the sound of her mother’s voice, wielded by a tongue so sharp it could cut Parker in two within seconds, had made any impact on her state of arousal.

Even though this was only her second visit to his house, she already felt at home. Sitting with him, eating a take-out meal, and bitching about her mother seemed far too much like a cozy domestic scene. Bringing up her almost-husband also made it like they were on a date. Food notwithstanding, they weren’t. This wasn’t a social call. They’d agreed to meet because of Forrester’s death. The investigation had just entered a new intense phase. She should stick to work, period. There was no room for silly romantic notions or steamy sexual ones.

Daire, apparently, hadn’t received the memo on that. “Your mother tried to arrange your marriage?”

Okay, may as well barrel through this inappropriate door she’d opened and be done with it. “Not exactly arranged so much as maneuvered. Evan is a really nice guy and the son of one of my mother’s oldest friends. He and I were thrown together at just about every turn. Our mothers left no doubt in either of our minds what they expected of us.”

“I take it you both balked at some point.” Daire’s lips held her attention as he spoke. They shined a bit from the greasy food, and when his tongue swept down to lick some of it off, she tracked the movement like a hawk homing in on a rabbit. Except that, if she were visualizing them as animals, he more appropriately would be featured as the predator. There was nothing fuzzy and cute or helpless about him.

The man exuded raw masculinity in such an understated way, she bet most people missed it. He probably didn’t even realize how much he represented the quintessential male. His outward appearance was all button-down, by-the-book. More like the man who wrapped his coat around the child pulled from the river than the man who jumped in to save the kid.

But she’d seen more than that outward shell when he’d raced up to her that afternoon and seconds later when he’d reacted to Benson’s dressing her down. She felt ridiculously safe in his presence, as if she could just jump into the abyss of any trouble and Daire would be right there to protect her.

She tore her gaze away from both the man and the fantasy and answered his question. “I did. Evan had been willing to placate his mother. He even said he loved me, but I knew he didn’t know me well enough to feel that strongly. I’m sure he would have made a very nice husband—kind, devoted, stable in personality and in profession.”

“Wait, let me guess. Was he an accountant?”

Parker sat back on a laugh. “How did you know that?”

Daire shrugged and grinned. “I stereotyped him through your description. Sounds like you could have done worse.”

“I know. I just wanted to do better. If I ever get married, it’s going to be to someone who possesses all of those qualities and more.” She didn’t explain further because it was still the wrong conversation for the time and place.

Daire didn’t let her get away with it, however. Leaning into the table, he asked, “What more do you want?”

She almost didn’t answer. The intensity of his gaze left her no choice. “Passion. I know lots of people do just fine without it. My mother would tell me that passion flares out and what matters is a long-term partnership and reliability. I don’t think that’s true. I like the idea of stability, of course. It’s just I believe a married couple should and can love and want each other their entire lives. I don’t think I’m greedy to want that.”

Daire remained silent for a few seconds. He dropped his gaze and toyed with the food left on his plate. “I agree,” he finally said in a low voice. “My parents still held hands when they walked together even after more than twenty years of marriage. I bet they were holding hands when their killer approached.”

The pain in his voice hit her low and hard, and it reminded her of why she was there. Pushing aside her mostly empty plate, she placed her netbook on the space she’d cleared. As she waited for it to boot up, she explained what she’d been doing after finding Forrester’s body. “I had an idea about how to approach the investigation now that our possible key witness is dead.”

That got Daire’s attention. He sat up straighter and pushed his plate to one side, too. “Do we know yet whether it was suicide or murder? Forrester, I mean.”

“Dr. Barnes is still putting the final touches on her report, but her preliminary finding is that it was murder.”

Daire’s fist hit the table top. “Damn it. These people are bold.”

“And good at covering their tracks. Dr. Barnes found small bruising around the hand with the gun that indicates there might have been a struggle. The toxicology report won’t be available for a while, of course. There was a half-drunk bottle of wine by the body, though.”

Parker pulled up the file she’d painstakingly compiled for hours. “My boss wasn’t happy to hear the coroner’s not shutting this down as a suicide.”

“Benson’s an ass.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Daire grimaced at her. “Sorry.”

She couldn’t suppress a smile. “No apology necessary. It’s entirely possible I agree with your assessment. I like Barnes, though. She doesn’t buckle under pressure.”

“I like her, too. If she says it’s murder, I’d make book on it.”

“Well, operating under that theory, I decided to go back to the beginning.” This is where it got tricky. Either Daire would agree with her strategy or call her crazy. Plus, her strategy held the very real possibility of marking his father as dirty. “You might want to come over here to see the screen better.”

She regretted her invitation the moment she made it. Had she totally lost her mind? Asking Daire to get closer was the exact opposite of what she should be trying to do. He seemed to agree with her more rational side because he hesitated before standing up on a soft sigh. When he approached her, he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants.