Searching for Cate (25 page)

“Y
ou don't have anything in your refrigerator.”

Cate pushed the handle, letting the door close on its own. The inside of his refrigerator had been the picture of barrenness. There weren't even any old, soggy take-out containers drooping sleepily in the recesses of the shelves. It was as if he'd just bought the appliance and plugged it in that afternoon.

She'd headed for the kitchen after settling him in the living room, determined to feed his body as well as his spirit. She'd struck out on the first count.

“Food is the last thing on my mind.”

Cate frowned. She'd left him in the living room, but he was standing behind her in the doorway. The man just didn't know when to stay put.

She turned and faced him. “But you need to keep up your strength.”

Christian laughed, shaking his head. “Wow, that must be some kind of record. You just went from sounding like a crack FBI agent to my mother in less than two and a half seconds.”

“Special agent,” she corrected. Gently, she herded him back to the living room, where she discovered that she could lead an injured man to a sofa, but she couldn't make him sit. “The term is special agent.”

The smile on his face was just the slightest bit lopsided and did not belong to a man who was in the kind of pain she knew he had to be in. She'd once caught a slug dead center in her bulletproof vest and it had hurt like hell. The impact had momentarily knocked her not only off her feet, but out cold.

And then she remembered, they'd given Christian something at the hospital for the pain.

Was that what that funny little smile on his lips was about? The one that was burrowing itself right into the pit of her stomach, upheaving absolutely everything in its path? It was obviously responsible for his lack of common sense, because every injured person knew one had to lie down after the ordeal he'd just gone through.

When she thought about the fact that the bullet could have hit something vital… She pushed the thought away as fast, as hard as she could. She couldn't do the same with the man. Christian had somehow managed to eat up all the space, all the air between them, and suddenly she was the one on life support, not him.

“Special agent,” he repeated. His eyes were teasing her even as they seemed to touch her. “Tell me what's so special about you.”

She lifted her chin, putting on one hell of a nonchalant performance. “I can press close to my own body weight and I can toss a man into bed.”

The lopsided smile spread—both across his lips and to her insides. “Sounds promising.”

She rolled her eyes and tried to keep from laughing. “What did they give you?”

He lightly feathered his fingertips along her cheek. Causing tidal waves of emotions to form. “Something to clear my head.”

Cate held her ground as best she could. “And suck out all the brain cells, obviously.”

From where he was not so steadily standing, it seemed to Christian that the painkiller had killed more than just the physical pain he'd been experiencing. It killed the other as well. The emotional pain he'd been dealing with all this time. Killed it so that he could allow himself to silently ask what he was running from in such a hurry.

Maybe just about the best thing that has happened to you in a long, long while.

He blinked and realized that Cate had left his side as he'd been examining this new revelation. She was all the way across the room, on her way to the rear of the apartment. “Where are you going?”

She paused to answer. His head was spinning a little, but he caught up to her in less than a beat. Because he swayed slightly, Cate took hold of his arm. He saw a shade of alarm mixed with disapproval in her eyes.

Or was that desire?

Mirroring his own.

“To the bedroom,” she told him, “to turn down your
bed.” If worse came to worse, Cate decided, she could push him down onto the bed. She doubted he'd offer much resistance in his present state. He'd probably be out within moments. Or, at least she hoped so.

She also wished he'd stop looking at her like that. He was making her forget all her good intentions. Instead, her thoughts kept reverting to something that had nothing to do with common sense and everything to do with fulfillment.

“Why?” he asked, his breath tantalizing her as he leaned in. “Did I proposition you?”

She wasn't sure if he meant the question seriously. “No,” she laughed, moving the comforter back off the bed. One good flip, she thought, that was all it would take. Gently so as not to hurt him.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Then I will.”

Turning, she was about to put her plan into action when he surprised her by pulling her to the side. In less than a very hard heartbeat, she found herself against the wall with a muscular arm on each side of her, barring any chance for a quick getaway.

He looked at her for a long moment. So long that Cate felt that she was in imminent danger of completely losing herself. The last trace of laughter faded as a deep-seated longing came to claim every part of her.

It seemed to get worse, not better each time. Because each time built on the last, growing higher, stronger. Making her feel as if she were capable of touching the very sky. Damn, what had she allowed herself to get into? She was a virtual prisoner, held captive not just by his body, but by his eyes.

“Marry me.”

She saw his lips moving, thought she heard the words, except that she knew she couldn't have. Was that just her inner thoughts projecting themselves? And even so, she couldn't be thinking that. Not after what she'd been through. Her life wasn't about strong, lasting intimate bonds any longer.

It wasn't? an inner voice mocked.

She cleared her throat and tried to look like the same woman she no longer was. “What?”

“Marry me,” he repeated, saying the words so softly she could feel them moving along her skin as well as hear them.

Rather than push him away and chance having him fall over, she suddenly ducked down, escaping beneath the barrier of his arm.

“You're delirious.” Cate pulled out her cell phone. “I'm calling your brother.”

Very deliberately, Christian took the phone out of her hand. “Lukas is already married. I don't want to marry him.”

He was holding the phone above his head, making it impossible for her to reach. She tried once, but unless she wanted to kick him in the shin, the phone was going to remain out of her reach.

“And you don't want to marry me,” Cate insisted.

“Sure I do.” He tossed her cell phone onto the nightstand on the other side of the bed, then blocked her access to it. “And before you start talking about the painkiller they gave me, all that did was kill my inhibitions.” He framed her face with his hands. “And strip away the cobwebs.”

God, but he could make her want him faster than morning coffee was brewed. She had to keep reminding herself that he was hurt and that one more tumble in bed wouldn't lead anywhere. Except to an ecstasy that she found addictive.

“Tell you what,” she said gamely, trying to step away from him and toward the doorway. “You sleep on it and we'll talk about it in the morning.”

For a man who'd been shot, he was awfully agile, she thought in frustration as he blocked her escape one more time. Filling her path with him and her own desire. “How about I sleep with you and we'll talk about it now?” he proposed seductively.

Compared to her insides right now, jelly was firm. Still, she mustered all the outward resolve she could and pointed to the mattress.

“Christian, bed,” she ordered in the sternest voice she could.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Just when she thought he was actually going to obey, Christian hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her down to the bed with him, his lips on hers.

But the kiss that threatened to incinerate her abruptly halted as he stifled a curse. When she'd fallen with him, her elbow had accidentally come in contact with his wound.

Cate quickly scrambled away from him, kneeling on the bed as she stared at him. What was wrong with her? She was the adult here right now, because the painkiller had obviously reduced him to the behavioral level of an adolescent who'd had a double barrel of hormones shot through him.

Remorse and guilt formed the two ends of the rope that tied her up into a knot. “Oh, God, Christian, I'm sorry. Look, I told you—”

He caught her hand before she could get off the bed. “I'll live,” he told her firmly, then his voice softened again. As did the look in his eyes. “Make love with me, Cate.”

He was out of his mind—and he was driving her out of hers. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out. An entire host of emotions had been put into play this afternoon, not the least of which was the fear that she could have lost him. Permanently.

“Christian,” she protested, “you've been shot.”

His grin was nothing short of absolutely wicked. “Not there.”

With a laugh that was only half surrender, Cate sank down beside him, shaking her head. “No one told me you were insane.”

He grazed his fingers along her throat, tilting her head up toward him just a fraction. “It's a well-kept secret.”

“Must be,” she breathed.

The sensations she'd been trying to keep in check suddenly dashed out like riders in a nineteenth-century land rush, bent on claiming a section of territory to call their own. It was hopeless and she knew it. She wanted him just as much as he seemed to want her. Probably more. And that ache in her chest, the one that had bloomed full grown when Christian had asked her to marry him, she recognized it for what it was.

Silently, she damned it even as its tapering fingers dug into her soul, holding her prisoner.

“I'll be gentle,” she promised, surrendering to the
inevitable. The next moment, he was kissing her. Or she him. Order didn't matter.

She could feel his mouth curving against hers even as the kiss deepened. The proposal he'd uttered was forgotten.

At least, she thought, by him.

 

Her hand was shaking as she finally inserted her key into the lock of her door. Cate stifled an impatient curse. It had taken her three tries to get it into the hole. She'd dropped the key twice.

God, what had he done to her?

Made wild, passionate love to her body and completely blown away her mind, that's what he'd done. You'd think a man who'd just been shot and then pumped full of medicine would have the decency to pass out once she'd gotten him home, not perform like some robust lover who'd been deprived of any sort of female companionship for the past three years.

Just thinking about him made her body hum.

Walking in, Cate flipped the lock closed behind her. And still felt vulnerable, still felt exposed. She leaned against the door for a moment, not bothering to turn on the lights.

He'd proposed to her.

Okay, the painkiller had proposed to her, but the words had come out of his mouth, using his voice. And for one wild, insane moment, she'd wanted to shout yes. To lean over as far as she could on her colorfully painted carousel horse and grab the brass ring.

To hold it to her chest with both hands and pretend everything would be wonderful.

With a sigh, she stepped out of her shoes and crossed the floor. Wishing with all her heart that she didn't know as much as she knew about life. She knew what happened when you began to believe in happily ever afters. Reality came to hit you across the face with a five-day-old fish, bruising you even as it polluted the air.

She'd made her escape the moment Christian had fallen asleep. Escaping from him, from his apartment and from the terrible things she knew were lying in wait for her the moment she became stupid enough to believe everything could work out.

She looked around her apartment, wanting to hide. Wanting to flee. Too bad she'd finally unpacked everything. It would be a lot easier if everything was still in boxes, ready to go.

Like she was.

Working her lower lip, Cate could feel her mind chasing around, desperately searching for something to focus on. Something to get her through this rocky patch until she could deal with it better. Until she could get back to her old self again. Strong and cynical and devoid of hope.

Her thoughts turned to the one thing that she could always rely on to pull her out of an emotional tailspin.

Work.

Squaring her shoulders, she crossed back to the front door and slipped on her shoes again.

L
ost in thought, Lydia looked up from the computer screen. Surprise immediately filtered over her features. She glanced at her watch. It was almost six. Time for their shift to leave, not show up. “I didn't think you were coming in.”

Cate shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of her chair. “It took longer at the hospital than I thought.”

Lydia nodded, taking in the explanation as far as it went. She really hadn't been thinking about hospital downtime when she'd asked.

“I guess even doctors have to wait.” She'd already called the hospital herself to find out, but she wanted to give her partner leeway to talk. She sensed Cate needed to. “So how is he?”

Magnificent.
Cate banked down the single-word
reply. It didn't do him justice, anyway, and it would just give Lydia an opportunity to pump her.

“The doctor said there were no internal injuries. Christian should be good as new in a few weeks.”
Actually, he's that way now.
Cate struggled to keep a smile from spreading on her face.

“Good to hear. The whole department's buzzing with the news about Sullivan.” Unable to hold back any longer, Lydia rose from her chair, rounded their desks and hugged her. “You did good.” Somewhere in the middle of the hug, a stiffness registered. Lydia released her and took a step back. “Something wrong?”

If she even said a single word on the subject, if she so much as mentioned that Christian had proposed, she knew the dam would break and everything would come rushing out. And Lydia wouldn't understand. Wouldn't understand why she was so afraid. Aside from an argument or two, Lydia and Lukas were happy. As far as she knew, Lydia had
always
been happy.

So she took the easy way out, otherwise known as the coward's way out, and shook her head. “Just a little stressed, that's all. That and jet lag,” she added for good measure.

If the answer left Lydia suspicious, she gave no indication.

“Then maybe you'd better return these some other time.” Before Cate could ask her what “these” referred to, Lydia reached into her pocket and produced several pink telephone message slips, which she deposited on the desk. “According to Hawkins who took the calls, this woman's been calling all afternoon.” Lydia regarded the
small pink pile with professional curiosity. “An informant?”

Picking up the message slips, Cate quickly went through them. The same name was on each and every one. Joan Cunningham.

It didn't make any sense. Joan didn't want to have anything to do with her, she'd made that abundantly clear. So why was she suddenly calling her?

Cate folded the slips and put them into the middle drawer of her desk. “No, just someone I met.”

Lydia made no effort to question the statement. “Maybe she saw you on the news.”

It felt like her brain was the inside of a blender that had gone amok. She looked at Lydia, confused. “On the news?”

She nodded. “It seems like we all made the evening news. The little media vultures must have been hiding in the airport woodwork. They commemorated that little action sequence that took place between Sullivan, Christian and you. And me,” she added as an afterthought. By the time she'd gotten back to the office, the others on the task force were more than happy to tell her all about it. The story was replayed within the half hour. She'd seen it on three different channels so far.

Cate groaned in response.

“Maybe you'll get your own groupies,” Lydia laughed.

Cate slid down further in her chair, not happy about the turn of events. “I sure as hell won't be able to go undercover anytime soon.”

Lydia was puzzled. There were special agents who
went undercover, but that wasn't anything her detail did. “Undercover? What brought that on?”

Cate shrugged, looking around her desk. Now that she was here, she didn't know what to do with herself. She couldn't seem to focus any better here than she could at home.

Why the hell did he have to propose, even if he was half out of his head?

“I was just thinking about a change, that's all.”

Something
was
wrong. “You're just settling in here,” Lydia protested.

“It was just a passing thought.” Opening the drawer, she took out the messages again. The only way to find out what was going on was to call. “I'd better return her call before she calls again.”

Sensing she needed privacy, Lydia rose from her desk. “I'm going to get some coffee—tea,” she corrected herself, then realized that wasn't enough. “Herbal tea. Hell, I hate herbal tea.” She sighed, shaking her head. “This is going to be a very long pregnancy,” she murmured as she walked away.

Bracing herself, Cate pressed the numbers that would connect her to the initial reason for her transfer. God but that felt as if it had been a million years ago. As she made the call, she realized that that, too, had somehow gotten pushed into the background. Especially after she'd seen the way Christian's mother had interacted with John. Juanita treated the teen no differently than she did either one of her sons.

Watching the woman had made her think of Julia and Big Ted. Of all the times they'd shared together. Not just the vacations, but the small moments as well.
Ted and Julia were her parents in every way that counted. They might not have donated any of their genes, but they'd given her their time, their love. And growing up, she had embraced their heritage. They had been her foundation, her roots, not whoever her birth parents were. She knew that now.

Looking back, she could only shake her head. She hadn't been herself for a while. The shock of learning she was adopted had done that to her. But she was better now. And proud to be who and what she was. Big Ted and Julia Kowalski's daughter. No amount of DNA could change that.

The phone on the other end barely rang once. And then she heard an uncertain voice saying, “Hello?”

“Joan?”

“Cate.” She said her name breathlessly and with something that almost sounded like relief. “I know you must be wondering why I've been calling you.”

Cate looked at the messages. Five in all. “I can take an educated guess.” Joan had probably seen her that day she was parked across the street from their house. “You called to make sure that I won't suddenly pop up and embarrass you in front of your family.” Odd how important this had been to her just a short while ago. And now it didn't matter. She didn't need that acceptance anymore. Because she'd accepted herself. “You don't have to worry, I won't.”

“You won't?” Joan sounded surprised and almost bewildered.

Leaning back in her chair, Cate smiled to herself. She looked at the empty space on the side of her desk. That would be a good place to put that photograph of
her parents she'd yet to unpack. “No, I've decided that you don't owe me anything. You already gave me more than you'll ever know.”

“I don't follow.”

“By giving me up to the Kowalskis, you gave me the opportunity to have a wonderful childhood. They were really very good people.”

“I'm so glad.” Cate thought that the woman honestly meant that. But then Joan went on to say, “But that's not the reason I called. I saw you on the news earlier.”

“Yes?”

She heard Joan take a deep breath before saying, “I realized that you could have been killed and then I would never have the opportunity to get to know you.”

That didn't make any sense. “I thought that you just wanted me to leave you alone.”

“No, what I wanted was to have my life go on the way it had been. But things don't always work out that way. People get sick, they die…” She began to speak more rapidly with each word. It was as if she felt if she didn't say this quickly, her courage would falter and she wouldn't say it at all. “Cate, there hasn't been a day that's gone by in the past twenty-seven years that you haven't been on my mind. That I haven't wondered where you were, if you were happy. What you looked like. But that day you came into my hospital room, I just wasn't prepared. My world was already shaky. I thought I was going to die. I was scared and I needed support. I was afraid that if anyone found out that I'd had a baby and given her up for adoption, my whole world would just fall apart.”

She knew that the operation had been a success and
Joan's cancer successfully removed. But nothing else had changed. Her husband and children were still the same. Her circumstances were still the same. “And now?”

“And now I've decided to stop being such a coward. I've already told my husband and he was upset that I hadn't told him before, but he didn't condemn me the way I thought he would. My mother-in-law and her blue blood is going to be knocked for a loop, but that can't be helped, and frankly, I'm tired of living my life walking on eggshells. If it's not too late, I would really, really like the chance to get to know you.”

“It's not too late.” She was surprised that she felt a tightness in her throat after telling herself that this didn't matter. “I think that something can be arranged.” She made a date to meet Joan for lunch at a popular restaurant the following Monday.

And just like that, she thought, she had a mother. Another mother, she amended, because Julia would always have first claim to that title.

Cate was just about to hang up when she heard Joan's voice in the receiver. “And Cate—”

Cate brought the receiver back to her ear. “Yes?”

“Thank you for not hating me.”

Hate had never entered into it, even at the height of the rejection. “The Kowalskis raised me well.”

“Yes, it seems that they did.”

Hanging up, Cate regarded the telephone in silence for a moment, thinking how strange life was. When she'd pushed for this, she'd met with nothing but rejection. Now that she'd made her peace and backed off, Joan had come to her, bearing an olive branch.

She had exactly sixty seconds to savor her newfound peace before Lydia came back to her desk. “Cate, the regional director wants to see you ASAP.”

Turning away from her desk to face Lydia, Cate groaned. This was the height of so-called rush hour. “I'm not sure I can endure L.A. traffic right now.”

Lydia grinned. “Then you're in luck.” Cate looked at her quizzically. “Because he's upstairs.”

Her day was catching up to her. Suddenly weary, she rose to her feet. “We'll see how lucky I am after we talk,” she said, leaving the room.

 

There were commendations in her file.

Commendations in her file and a newly found mother who wanted to establish ties after all. Not bad for a day's work, Cate thought as she drove home an hour later.

She deliberately didn't allow her thoughts to go any further, to encompass the real center of her day. She wasn't about to even toy with the idea that the proposal might have had a ring of truth to it.

More than likely, when Christian woke up and found her gone, he would be either relieved to be alone, or would have no memory of the proposal he'd uttered in the heat of his delirium.

Exhausted, all she wanted was to take a hot shower and drop into a warm bed. Hopefully in that order.

She pulled into her parking space slightly askew. She was going to regret this tomorrow when she had to pull out again. But right now, she wasn't up to straightening out the vehicle. After locking the doors, she made her way to her apartment, already visualizing the water coming out of the showerhead.

“I was beginning to think that you were never going to come home again.”

Instantly awake, Cate swung around, one hand on the hilt of her service revolver, ready to pull it out and fire.

Christian stepped out of the shadows. She removed her hand from her gun, but the tension that had seized her refused to leave. She waited a beat for her heart to shimmy down out of her throat and let her speak.

“I had a lot to do,” she said slowly. “Why aren't you in bed?”

“It's empty.”

“Of course it's empty,” she snapped. She just wasn't up to this. Her nerves suddenly felt brittle enough to snap like the two ends of a dried-out wishbone. “You're not in it.”

“No,” he corrected. “What makes it empty is that you're not in it.”

Oh, please, please, go away. Don't do this to me. Don't make me bleed all over again.

Christian nodded toward the door. “Are you going to open it and invite me in, or do you want Mrs. Noble to watch us?”

She had no idea who he was talking about. “Mrs. Noble?”

“The woman in the apartment across the way.” He indicated the neighbor's window. “I've been out here so long, she came out to ask me if there as anything she could do.” A smile curved his mouth. And her insides. “I've got a feeling that she likes to keep up on things. So if I kiss you out here…”

“C'mon.” Against her better judgment, Cate unlocked the door and allowed him to follow her in as a little voice taunted, You'll be sorry.