Nightfire. Barbara McCauley

references, if you’d like to see them.”

      “That won’t be necessary.” This man needed no references, Allison thought. And it wasn’t just his height or the muscular build of his body that was so formidable. There was a presence about him, a manner that radiated from him that was as primitive as it was powerful. A power that men respected and women responded to at the most basic level. And she, Allison noted with annoyance, was obviously no exception.

      Reminding herself there was an issue here much more important than her own hormones waking up from hibernation, Allison stared down at the streets below. Cars were bumper to bumper in the rush-hour traffic. Windshield wipers swiped back and forth in syncopated rhythm. Thousands of people going home with nothing more on their minds than dinner with their families.

      And somewhere down there was a man with a camera.

      She turned slightly at the sound of men’s voices from the outer office. “Those men in the hall, are they with you?”

      “No.” He stood beside her, following the movement of traffic. “They’re part of your father’s security team. I’m here to work with them, teach them what I know.”

      She wondered briefly who had taught Kane. “And what about our friend with the camera?” she asked quietly.

      Kane would have liked to tell her that they’d catch the guy in a day or two and she could go about her business as usual. But he never made promises and he never underestimated a potential problem.

      “He’s already made a number of mistakes—stealing a car and losing the film for starters. My guess is that he’ll make more. He’s going to go after the wrong person, at the wrong time, and that’s when we’ll get him.”

      She turned to him, hugging her arms tightly to her. “And which ‘wrong person’ do you think he’ll go after?”

      He waited until her gaze lifted to his. “You.”

      Allison’s eyes widened. “Well,” she said on a shaky laugh, “you certainly don’t mince words, do you?”

      “Neither will a kidnapper.”

      She sucked in a sharp breath and nodded slowly. “So what now?”

      “For now, it would certainly make life easier if you’d do as your father asks and stay home from work for a few days.”

      So they were back to that, Allison thought. She straightened her shoulders and leveled her gaze with Kane’s. “Do you have any children?”

      She could have sworn she saw him flinch, but then wondered if she’d imagined it.

      “No.”

      “A wife?”

      A hard glint entered his eyes. “No.”

      “Then it might be difficult for me to explain this to you, Mr. Kane, but I’m going to try anyway. There are twenty-five children at St. Martin’s Center who look forward to seeing me. I take them to the movies, read to them, play games with them. All the things their drug-addicted or alcoholic mothers and fathers don’t do.”

      Because she wanted him to understand, she leaned closer. “But there’s something else I do that’s even more important. I hold them. I kiss them. I tell them they’re special, then wipe their tears away when they don’t believe me. And then I hold them some more. For just a little while I share their pain, a pain that I thank God I never experienced, a pain that most people can’t possibly understand.”

      Kane let the old ache pass through him, ignoring the fact that it seemed sharper this time. Deeper. If he’d wanted to, he could have told her that he did understand. He understood too damn well. But he said nothing.

      Allison clenched her hands into fists, angry not only at the situation, but at herself for trying to explain to this man why the center and the children there were so important to her. Based on the hard-set expression on his face, he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. She wouldn’t have believed it possible for one man to be so cold.

      She told herself it didn’t matter whether he understood or not, but that made it difficult to explain the profound sense of disappointment she suddenly felt. Needing to put some distance between herself and Kane, she turned away and walked back to her father’s desk.

      “I’m just going to say this one more time,” she said quietly, but with resolution. “I have no intention of hiding out while some jerk is on the loose. Those children need me, and even more I need them. We’re practicing for a play right now, and I can’t afford to be away. I’ll stay at my father’s house for as long as it’s necessary, but that’s as far as I compromise. I’ll be going to the center every day except Tuesday, whether you like it or not.”

      He didn’t like it, but short of tying the woman up—and he admitted to himself the idea held interesting possibilities—there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. It amazed him how quickly she’d shifted gears from fear to anger, and even though he decided he liked the way her green eyes lighted with determination, her insistence at keeping her regular schedule was going to make his life difficult. He sighed inwardly. It hardly would be the first time a woman had made his life difficult.

      “Well, then, Miss Westcott—” he moved toward her, almost admiring the stubborn tilt of her chin as she held his gaze “—I guess we’ll just have to manage, won’t we?”

      He felt her tense when he reached around her and picked up the photographs from the desk. He shuffled slowly through them, pausing at the picture of her in her underwear. Her bra was black and lacy, her matching panties a thin slip of fabric that one quick tug would easily remove. “But in the meantime, you might at least consider closing the blinds.”

      Allison understood that Kane was trying to intimidate her. And it was working, dammit. Heat rushed up her neck as she watched him stare at her picture. She pulled the photo from his fingers. “I’ll do that.”

      The door opened and Oliver walked back into the office. A frown knotted his forehead. “I’m afraid I’ve got to leave now, Allison. I have a dinner meeting in Los Angeles tonight with one of our main buyers and I have a plane to catch.” He picked up his briefcase under his desk, then gave Allison a kiss on the cheek.

      She held onto his arm. “How can you leave right now? What if this guy is waiting for you?”

      “I can’t stop my life anymore than you can, sweetheart.” Oliver took Allison’s chin in his hand and met her concerned gaze. “I’ve got two men coming with me. I’ll be home in a few days and we’ll talk then. In the meantime, you’ll be in good hands with Kane here.”

      Good hands with Kane? “But, Dad—”

      “Sorry, hon’.” He was already on his way out of the office. “Oh, and Allie—” he turned back around “—will you prepare the guest room for Kane? He’ll be staying at the house with us.”

      Two

      It was incredible how much one’s life could change in a matter of a few minutes.

      Allison stared at Kane’s broad back, amazed at how smoothly he’d managed to maneuver her into the back corner of the crowded elevator and place himself between her and the rest of the people. The two men outside her father’s office had also squeezed into the elevator, and they stood by the doors like guards at a palace gate.

      She knew she should feel comforted by all the brawn surrounding her, but what she felt was smothered. She’d been on her own since she was eighteen—the year her mother had died—and she was used to coming and going as she liked, without an escort and certainly without asking permission. Having all these watchdogs around was going to take some getting used to. And in the case of Thomas Kane, she thought irritably, the adjustment was going to be a big one.

      She stared at the wide stretch of shoulders blocking her view and cursed the warmth curling downward from her stomach. It was