Pregnant Protector. Anne Duquette Marie

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t want any damn coffee,” he said harshly. Then he backpedaled, realizing she didn’t deserve rudeness. “I’m sorry. No, thanks.”

      “Okay, but how about a beer? Or a scotch. You’re not on duty.”

      Nick thought for a moment. “Scotch sounds good.”

      “Ice?”

      “Neat.”

      “Sit down and put your feet up. I’ll be right back. Sadie, stay.”

      He felt the dog’s eyes on him as he studied the room. A concert grand stood as the room’s focal point, its lacquered finish gleaming despite the curtains being drawn over the huge bay windows. The floor was highly waxed parquet hardwood, while the obviously expensive leather couch and matching hassock were the only pieces of furniture evident. There was no television and no stereo. The only things in profusion were voluminous collections of sheet music on the shelves and a few scattered pieces on the piano.

      Lara returned with an iced tea for herself and the scotch for him. Her dog rose to its feet expectantly and trotted to her side. Lara shook her head, but remained standing. “Relax, Sadie. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a smile of affection for the animal. Sadie lay down again and stretched.

      The smile transformed the woman’s face. She was breathtakingly lovely. So lovely that it took him a moment to realize she was still holding out his glass.

      “Thanks.” He tested the scotch with a small sip, then a bigger one.

      “Feeling better?” she asked.

      “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.” The scotch, smooth as silk, burned a path to his midsection, replacing some of the icy coldness with heat.

      “There’s more if you want,” Lara offered. “Just say the word. You wanna get drunk, I don’t have a problem with it. God forbid if anything happened to my partner.” Her hand dropped to rest on the molded head of her four-legged companion.

      Getting drunk—something he hadn’t done since his college days—appealed, but only for a moment. If he were drunk, he couldn’t work. He’d take a quick shower, not for hygiene but to shock his body into alertness, and he’d exchange the constricting work clothes for jeans. He’d shove his grief down where it couldn’t hamper him, and then, only then, would he start to work on finding Julio’s killer.

      CHAPTER TWO

      Monday afternoon

      “DAMN!” Lara swore as she hit yet another wrong note on the piano keyboard, the third in the past five minutes. Julio’s body was now in the hands of the medical examiner, and she hadn’t yet told Nick. At present he was showering. She planned for them to visit the police station to check on new developments, but first she needed to eat. She’d missed her breakfast, and it was already past noon. Lara suspected Nick hadn’t eaten since hearing of his partner’s death. Okay, she decided, she’d tell him about the phone call from Girard after they’d eaten. There was no harm in stalling. No sense ruining his shower, as well.

      She’d sat down to practice at the piano while waiting, one of her passions but unfortunately not one of her skills. She pushed away from the Steinway, the legs of the piano bench scraping the waxed parquet floor. Might as well take a break. Her mind wasn’t on her music, anyway. It was on Nick Cantello.

      Lara crossed to the big bay window overlooking the Pacific, parted the drawn curtains slightly and took in the view. In many ways, she thought, Nick was exactly the way a law enforcement officer should be. Strong, both in his hard, lean body, and in his personality. But there was something else about him she found disturbing—his loneliness. He tried to hide it, she knew, but having reviewed his file on Girard’s orders, Lara sensed it. Nick considered Julio’s family more his than his own, distant one; his parents, siblings and grandparents lived in Italy. Now, sadly, the Valdezes were back in Mexico. Despite Nick’s brusque, almost rude manner, she’d instantly warmed to him, both emotionally and physically, utterly surprising feelings for her to have toward a stranger suddenly thrust into her life.

      Circumstances such as murder and a grieving, angry man didn’t bode well for romantic attraction. Nick wanted justice for his partner, with or without her, and Lara knew a brick wall when she met one. Her dog’s ears swiveled suddenly, alerting her to Nick’s passage down the stairs from the guest room on the upper level. She swung around and greeted him with a smile.

      “Giving up on the ivories?” Nick asked.

      “I should have given up years ago. I’m terrible. Still, I love music.” She shrugged. “I try not to inflict too much suffering on others. Thank heavens Sadie doesn’t mind.”

      “Your dog’s tone deaf?”

      Lara noted it was the first time she’d seen him smile. “Yep. So is Lexi—that’s my oldest sister Kate’s dog. Kate’s the real musician. We share this house. But she’s out of town on business,” she said, anticipating his question. “It’s just us.”

      Lara sat back down on the bench and dropped her hand, feeling for the furry head never far from her side. “Hungry? We can leave whenever you’re ready. I thought we’d stop at a place I know near the beach. Or wherever you prefer.”

      “In a bit.” Nick sat down on the couch, his expression one people close to him would recognize as alert. “Tell me about your…house.”

      “Two stories, seven bedrooms, five bathrooms, kitchen and bar, formal dining room, four-car garage, pool and spa, tennis courts, plus a beautiful ocean view,” she said. “Actually quite modest for La Jolla.”

      His eyes traveled around the room, sparsely yet elegantly—and expensively—furnished. “You win the lottery?” he asked.

      “In a way.” Lara grinned. “Wanna know the story?”

      “Please.”

      Lara noticed his please was more an order than a question, a characteristic of most law enforcement officers who set up and controlled interviews. She did it herself, but today being treated as “business” was irritating. She’d never had a problem maintaining her emotional distance from co-workers before. But Nick had somehow skipped right past her “official” mode, and suddenly she wished the reverse were true.

      Lara lifted her foot to the bench and tucked her knee under her chin. “My mother used to be a K-9 officer, and Dad worked with explosives canines. Dad runs the kennels. Both Mom and Dad train. We all help out on our off time.”

      “We? Your siblings?” he asked.

      “Kate and I, now. My other sister, Lindsey, is married and works up at Yosemite with her husband. Kate and I occasionally do bodyguard work for friends or friends of friends.”

      Nick jerked his head in the dog’s direction. “You freelance with the dog?” Law enforcement officers were allowed to moonlight, such as working parking control at sports events, but dogs rarely were.

      “Sorta kinda. I don’t charge my friends. And legally, Sadie’s my personal property. I wasn’t assigned her. I came to the job with leash in hand.”

      “Unusual.”

      “Not since 9-11. Increased numbers of law-enforcement СКАЧАТЬ