The Promise He Made Her. Tara Taylor Quinn

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       CHAPTER THREE

      HE ALMOST DIDN’T recognize her. Hell, what was he thinking? If it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d memorized every bone in that face when he’d studied the crime scene photos, he wouldn’t have recognized her. Her high cheekbones and that little bit of a squaring off of her chin gave her away.

      That and the slight bit of crookedness on one side of her jaw.

      That auburn hair, more brown than red but with a hint of fire that had drawn his attention every time, was longer now. Softly curled.

      Her body stood straighter, was fuller without losing the slenderness that drew eyes to her when she walked.

      Bloom Freelander had...bloomed. His body took note.

      WTF.

      Had he left his mind back at the cottage? In the toilet he’d cleaned?

      Still several yards away she didn’t appear to have seen him yet. Which gave him time to get his head out of the plumbing and back to the case at hand.

      Maybe the fact that he was dreading the next minutes, the fact that her life could very well depend on his ability to force her to do his bidding, was the reason he’d gone so far south.

      He’d thought about her often over the past couple of years. Had wanted to check in on her. But he’d had no reason. No right.

      Had thought it was not good or fair to remind her of the time in her life she was working so hard to escape.

      Maybe he’d hoped he’d run into her. Maybe, when he’d been at the beach, or the grocery store, he’d kept an eye out for her.

      Fate hadn’t seen fit to bring them together.

      But it had damned sure seen fit to put her in danger again.

      He was no fonder of the fates at the moment than he was of his overresponsive nether region.

      No doubting now that she’d seen him. She was staring right at him.

      As if she couldn’t believe it was he? Or was trying to place him?

      Didn’t matter.

      Either way, it was showtime.

      * * *

      “DETECTIVE LARSON.” Bloom slowed down, stepped off the walk into the grass as he drew closer, so as not to block traffic into and out of the building. If he had a medical appointment, she couldn’t keep him. But...she’d thought of him so often during her months of healing. Wanted to let him know that he’d helped. A lot.

      “Dr. Freelander...” He stepped off the walk, too.

      “I told you,” she said with an easy smile—something she’d been unable to give him when he’d known her. “Call me Bloom. Dr. Freelander is someone else in my mind. My former self. And the nemesis of my former self, too.”

      “Did you get your divorce?”

      From anyone else the question would have been rude. But Sam Larson had been in every intimate crevice of her life as he’d built the case that had put her diabolically intelligent and demonic husband behind bars.

      “I did,” she told him, smiling again. “It was final just last month.” Because Ken had fought it tooth and nail. From the throne he seemed to think he sat on in his prison cell.

      Detective Larson’s frown was something she remembered well. It gave her stomach a sexy little jolt to see it now.

      Not an altogether comfortable experience. She was healthy. Happy. Just as she was. Without sex. Been there, done that. Didn’t want the complication. The physical experience just wasn’t worth what it put you through, exposed you to, made you vulnerable to...

      Besides, she was professional enough to recognize that any feeling she might have for this particular man was transference—a former captive gravitating toward the safety net offered by her rescuer.

      “I thought you were going to change your name.”

      The fact that he remembered gave her another jolt. Nice to know that of all of his many cases she’d been...memorable.

      Or he just had one hell of a memory. Which was impressive, too.

      “I was,” she told him. “But it’s on my degree. My doctoral certificate. And on the deed to the house I was just awarded as part of my settlement.”

      And that was enough about her. “You look good,” she told him, smiling again.

      “Thank you. So do you.” He would know, as closely as he was looking her over.

      Just as he’d done in the past. As though he didn’t miss a single freckle. She’d thought the intensity of his regard had been due to the fact that he’d been the detective in charge of investigating her case.

      But there it was, two years later, still searching out her secrets...

      “I imagine you have an appointment to keep,” she told him, pulling the strap of her black leather satchel more closely to her body. “I just wanted to thank you. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you since Kenneth went to prison and I could begin to heal, and I wanted to let you know what a difference you’ve made in my life. That you helped. So much. That the work you do...it matters so much...”

      It wasn’t like her to babble. Those brooding brown eyes of his, the flop of blond hair that never seemed to be in place, they were...familiar. As though she took them with her everywhere she went.

      The idea was shocking, and yet recognizable, too. His calm, his strength, they’d been like examples of a parent to her. Something she’d been emulating as she rebuilt her life.

      Rescuer, rescuee. Safety net. Sense of security.

      “I don’t have an appointment,” the detective said, rocking back on the heels of the black slip-ons he’d always worn. They looked like the exact same ones from back then. Did he buy several pairs at a time? Were they some kind of detective issue? Uniform to go with the dress slacks and button-down shirts he’d always worn? With a sedate tie in varying shades of blah.

      “You’re here on a call?” she asked now, adrenaline rushing to the fore. Knocking out the other...inappropriate emotions his unexpected presence had raised in her. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have kept you.”

      Even СКАЧАТЬ