Still the One. Debra Cowan

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Название Still the One
Автор произведения Debra Cowan
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
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Издательство Зарубежные детективы
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we can’t discount that, right?”

      “I won’t discount anything. I’ll look at every angle. I’ll start by going to his apartment, checking things out.”

      “I went there and couldn’t find anything.”

      “I might know other things to look for.”

      “Of course.” Kit couldn’t help the stiffness of her tone.

      His silent scrutiny, the stoic face all combined to make her want to squirm. Through the years, she’d learned to handle some fairly intimidating men, and she didn’t appreciate the way just one measuring look from Rafe could make her feel as if she were in his way.

      “I’ll also check with his parole officer.”

      “I didn’t think to do that.” She shook her head. “This whole thing has knocked me for a loop. I’m so upset I probably did miss something at Tony’s apartment.” She forced a smile, her chest tight and aching.

      “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll look for anything that might give a hint to where Tony could’ve gone. Check with the airlines and the bus depot, see if he bought a ticket using a credit card, though I doubt it.”

      “I can do that.” Kit pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse.

      “No.”

      Hand poised over her purse, her gaze snapped to his. “What?”

      “I’ll do all the checking and call you when I’ve found something.”

      She stiffened, crumpling the paper in her fist. “I want to help.”

      “I know what I’m looking for. You don’t.”

      His voice was gentle, but steel rimmed the words and sent a shaft of irritation through her. She’d hoped the years might’ve mellowed his insistent control. “I’m coming with you.”

      “None of my other clients—”

      “I’m coming.” The old anger swept in along with a flash of panic. Telling herself Rafe simply didn’t understand how important this was to her, she took a deep breath. “I need to be there when you find her.”

      “I don’t know anything about this Alexander character. If he actually is connected to the mob, he could be dangerous. Besides, you need to be safe and sound so Liz has someone to come home to when I do find her.”

      “She’s supposed to call me. Wouldn’t you rather be around to hear it?”

      “You’ll let me know.”

      She hesitated, then blurted, “Do you not want me along because of the past? Because of what I…what happened?”

      His lips flattened. “No.”

      “I wouldn’t blame you.”

      “I said no.” Rafe bit out the words.

      Kit took in the steel jaw, the piercing, narrowed eyes. Had he ever forgiven her for refusing him? “I won’t get in your way.”

      She couldn’t tell if she was reaching him or not. The Rafe she’d known—loved—hadn’t had those black eyes that hardened to marble. Hadn’t been able to disappear beneath a stoic mask of indifference. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. Panic sawed at her.

      “I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

      “I don’t like working with anyone,” Rafe said bluntly.

      “Well, I didn’t love coming in here, but I did it.” She clenched her fists, stepping toward him. “Liz is in danger. I have to find her. You don’t know what it’s like to feel helpless, to feel—”

      “I do know.” His voice lashed the air as he pushed out of his chair, tension coiling in his broad shoulders.

      Kit took a reflexive step back, frowning at the harsh emotion beneath his words.

      “I know helplessness, second-guessing, uncertainty—” He broke off, anger vibrating from him. “Don’t tell me I don’t.”

      She shook her head. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t presume to know anything about my life, Kit. Don’t make assumptions about me.”

      What had happened? She swallowed the question. She had no right to know anything about him, no right to care. She’d given that up long ago.

      He leaned across the desk toward her, eyes blazing, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “Just because we were involved once doesn’t mean you know me now. Doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”

      “I could say the same to you.”

      The air snapped tight, hummed with old anger, past hurts.

      Fury tautened his carved features; his throat worked. “Let’s agree to stick to this case,” he said hoarsely. “And facts about this case only.”

      She nodded, her mouth dry, her heart hammering with the same wildness it had the first time she’d ever noticed him. He’d been running to class, up the hill past her. Long, lean legs bared by denim shorts, moving with a muscular fluidity that slowed her steps. The wispy image of his burnished flesh sliding against her pale skin floated through her mind.

      She slammed the door on those thoughts. She wasn’t going to let her hormones—or her memories—get in the way of finding Liz.

      “It’s not a good idea for you to come along,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

      “Still think you ought to be calling all the shots, don’t you, Blackstock?”

      Surprise widened his eyes a fraction. “This is how I do business.”

      “This is why we didn’t work out ten years ago.”

      Says you. His hands fisted as he studied the opposite wall. “I can move faster if I’m alone. And there will be situations where people might not talk to me if you’re around. This really is best, Kit. Take it or leave it.”

      Ten years ago, she’d walked away from this very thing, but she didn’t have that luxury now. “Maybe my sitting around doing nothing is not best for me. Or for Liz.”

      “Let me do my job. I’ll check in with you as often as you like, every step if you want, but it’s best if I’m solo.”

      She set her jaw, her gaze burning into his. “I’m paying your fee. I should get to call the shots.”

      “Not with me.”

      Frustration hardened her voice. “How did you get in this line of work, anyway? It’s got nothing to do with flying jets.”

      His face closed. “Long story.”

      One he plainly wasn’t going to tell her. Swallowing against a sharpness in her throat, she said, “Fine.”

      He tapped a finger on the desk, his gaze scouring her face. “No more talk about the past.”

      “Fine.” She knew that was for the best, but the old wound inside her cracked open.

      He irritated her, but even so, he was the one man she regretted walking away from. The one man who could reach places in her no one else ever could.

      She couldn’t ignore the knot in her belly that was part anger, part anticipation. Not affected by him? Who was she kidding?

      She wanted him to reassure her, tell her he’d find Liz quickly, that she would be able to handle all this. But she squared her shoulders against the maverick wish. She needed Rafe to find her sister. That was all.

      She couldn’t let herself start needing him for anything else.

      The sun sank to the horizon in a smear of gold and purple, edging the clouds with shimmering light. As Rafe drove north