A Fine Specimen

  Alex wasn’t aggressive with her, he asked her opinion on things and—miracle of miracles—he picked up after himself. He even picked up after her, being much neater than she was. And surprisingly enough for a neat freak, he never complained about her messiness and lack of organization.

  The passion that flared up between them still surprised her. She had never thought of herself as a passionate woman, but when Alex touched her, kissed her or even looked at her in a certain way, she melted instantly. They were so big and scary, these feelings she had for Alex. But Alex wasn’t a forever kind of guy. She had to remember that, pound it into her stubborn, oh-so-foolish head.

  He wasn’t looking for a life mate or even a short-term partner. She didn’t need for him to tell her that, it was evident in the way he lived. She had never seen anyone as completely self-sufficient as Alex Cruz. He didn’t need anyone, for anything at all.

  Ben Cade told her that it had been years since he and Alex had gone out carousing. No one called in the evenings. It would have been sad if it weren’t for the fact that it was clearly Alex’s choice. He could have any kind of company he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

  He didn’t appear to be a womanizer, which was a relief. But according to station-house scuttlebutt, there hadn’t been a woman in his life for a long time, which was odd in a man as attractive as Alex.

  It looked like he’d more or less written off having a stable relationship in his life.

  In a way, Caitlin could understand him. Just like he never spoke about the future, he rarely mentioned the past. But from her interviews with the cops, she’d pieced together a tragic picture of a neglected, even abused youngster who’d adopted toughness as a shell until it became his defining characteristic. Breaking through that shell was impossible. She was breaking her own heart instead.

  She had no idea what Alex’s feelings were about their affair. Maybe he didn’t have feelings. Maybe he didn’t even realize they were having an affair. Maybe he hadn’t thought about it at all. Maybe he was just enjoying their time together, assuming it would be over when she moved out. Maybe she was presuming too much, staying on. Maybe she should have looked for another hotel right away instead of accepting his invitation, maybe…

  A noise behind her made her whirl around.

  “Whoa,” Alex said, pushing her hand away from the region of his groin. “Take it easy and point that knife somewhere else. I like my private parts right where they are.”

  Caitlin was always off balance when she was jerked out of her thoughts. And she was always off balance around Alex anyway. He was too close for her to be able to collect her thoughts. “Alex?”

  “Right here.”

  Alex reached past her to turn the radio off. There was a sudden silence in the kitchen and Caitlin realized that he’d turned the TV in the living room off too.

  Alex always smelled so good, Caitlin realized as he moved even closer to her. Even at the end of the day, when everyone else smelled of the emotions they’d experienced, Alex still smelled good, as if he could control that too.

  Caitlin had read somewhere that males in a fight could smell each other’s fear. Alex wouldn’t ever smell of fear, he’d smell of himself. And win.

  He put his arm around her and looked into her eyes. His gaze was fierce and penetrating. Caitlin couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was thinking, except that whatever it was, it was intense. His dark eyes were slightly narrowed and his mouth was drawn into a tight line.

  “Alex?” she asked again. “Anything wrong?”

  “No,” he said and put his mouth on hers.

  Caitlin breathed in shakily, her nose next to his cheek. Alex’s kisses were always different, taking her completely by surprise each time.

  Sometimes he was so passionate she felt seared to her bone marrow. This one was sweet, hot, deep. Sweet enough to drown in, hot enough to ignite her, deep enough so she could never find her way out again.

  Alex’s mouth moved on hers and Caitlin felt a wave of desire move in her bloodstream.

  Alex tasted of beer and himself as he took the kiss ever deeper. He was holding her head in both hands, his fingers burrowed in her hair. He was connected to her only by the kiss, by his mouth on hers, his hands in her hair, and she wanted to be closer to him than that. She arched up against him, drowning in his kiss, moving ever closer, feeling her muscles go lax…

  And heard a soft boing.

  They broke apart and stared at Alex’s heavy, needle-sharp knife quivering in the hardwood floor a hair away from his bare foot. A touch to the right and it would have skewered it.

  He looked up and smiled into her eyes, a hot, secret smile just for her. He shook his head slowly. “You’re a dangerous woman, Caitlin Summers,” he said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex was sweating. Danger on the horizon.

  He was trying to keep his cool, but it was hard. It was Saturday and he and Caitlin were looking at their fifth apartment of the day. All the other apartments they’d viewed had been reasonably attractive, reasonably well maintained and reasonably priced.

  Shit, the last one had been in a nice neighborhood, in a pretty apartment complex with a pool, spa and gym and wasn’t expensive. The real problem was that it was all the way across town from his house. At least an hour’s drive away.

  It had taken him a sweaty half hour to talk Caitlin out of it. He’d had to become increasingly inventive in finding excuses to reject everything they saw and he could tell that the real estate agent was getting annoyed.

  The agent was a tall, tough-looking lady with big hair an improbable shade of red. Her name was Karen Lowden and she and Caitlin had hit it off immediately. By the second house, they were calling each other by their first names and now, by the fifth, you’d think they were lifelong buddies.

  At first Karen had addressed both of them, thinking they were looking for an apartment to share. Alex had felt a pang in his chest when Caitlin had made it clear that she would be living alone. After Alex found one problem after another with the apartments they viewed, Karen totally ignored him and spoke only to Caitlin.

  Why the fuck was Caitlin so hell-bent on finding herself an apartment? They were doing just fine the way they were. Weren’t they? He didn’t have any complaints and he hadn’t heard any from her.

  Why did she want to move out? Was she waiting for him to say something? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought of it, because he had. He had a feeling that if he asked Caitlin to stay, she would.

  Or maybe she wouldn’t. Who knew? What did he know about these things? Nothing.

  He didn’t want to find out. And anyway, asking her to stay would somehow formalize the arrangement, which he wasn’t sure he wanted to do. He wanted the situation to remain exactly as it was, for as long as possible, because it was just fine the way it was.

  They could both walk out of the arrangement at any moment though he knew that right now, he’d rather have root canal work on every single tooth in his head than to see Caitlin walk out of his home. She seemed perfectly happy too. They were doing just fine. Why the fuck fix it if it wasn’t broken?

  Alex wasn’t dumb. He knew there was a time limit on their time together. Caitlin was, by any measure or definition, a “good girl”. If she lived with a man for any stretch of time, she would start thinking marriage. And she would have every right to.

  She had so much to offer. She was kindhearted, gentle and mind-blowingly beautiful without a shred of vanity. She was very smart—probably smarter than he was—and she kept him on his toes. She had a wry sense of humor which was enchanting. She cooked like a dream. She had a fascinating mind and he loved to hear her take on things. Even her messiness was charming.

  Alex knew—because everyone made a point of telling him, over and over again—that he’d been easier to get along with at work lately, something everyone attributed to Caitlin’s influence on him. And they were right. He was feeling more relaxed than he had in years.

  Caitlin Summers would make
someone a delightful wife someday.

  But not him.

  Alex had never thought much about marriage. The few times marriage had flashed across his mind, his reaction was—no fucking way. He couldn’t see himself as anyone’s husband. What could he possibly know about happily ever after? About making a marriage work?

  Alex had always made a point of never asking about people’s backgrounds, because he wasn’t prepared to reciprocate. But Caitlin had volunteered the fact that, though her father had died at a young age, her parents had had a happy marriage. Alex couldn’t even begin to imagine a happy marriage. The whole concept was foreign to him.

  Happy for a lifetime with someone? What the fuck was that about? It was a minor miracle that he’d managed to be happy for a full week with Caitlin. How on earth could anyone manage a fucking lifetime?

  His parents’ marriage had been made in hell and he’d spent his entire childhood and adolescence watching up close and personal how badly two people could damage each other and everyone around them. No happy families in Riverhead.

  His own relationships never lasted more than a month or two at the most, he’d seen to that. The instant the woman got that faraway, I-want-a-ring-and-a-fancy-wedding look in her eye, he cut loose.

  It didn’t happen often, thank God, because he usually chose his women carefully. They expected nothing but a good—though short—time from him and that was exactly what they got. No more, no less.

  Caitlin had somehow blindsided him, sneaking up on him while he wasn’t paying attention, and now it was too late. She was under his skin and the thought of losing her gave him a cold feeling in his gut.

  Too bad, because right now it looked like she was going to walk.

  She was ooh-ing and ah-ing over what the agent called the “crown molding”. So what was so fucking great about a little stucco work around the upper walls?

  Caitlin had smiled with delight at the Jacuzzi in the pale-rose-and-cream bathroom.

  The agent was ecstatic. A trickle of sweat ran down his back and his chest felt too tight.

  The apartment was in the center of town, had slightly more room than the average apartment in that price range and was right next to a bus stop. It was in a new building and the previous owner had stated her willingness to leave the brand-new blue-and-white kitchen appliances and a collection of thriving houseplants.

  It was perfect.

  Alex hated it.

  “Say,” he said in a conversational tone. “Wasn’t a murder committed here a little over a year ago? I’m sure I read this address in the report. It was right in this building. In this apartment, if I’m not mistaken.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “It’s enough to give you the willies.”

  “Alex, please…” Caitlin murmured.

  “No, officer—” Karen Lowden began, her strong jaw muscles working.

  Alex turned to the red-haired woman and bared his teeth in what could be called a smile. Just.

  “That would be ‘Lieutenant’,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

  “Lieutenant.” Karen drew a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Lieutenant, there has never, ever,” her voice was rising again, “been a murder here. I can guarantee it!”

  She turned to Caitlin, clearly the reasonable one of the two.

  “You can rest assured on that account, Caitlin. This building was constructed in 2005 and the only tenant this apartment has ever had was Helen Montgomery. Mrs. Montgomery was a high school teacher who moved away when she retired to live with her daughter. She moved to Billings, Montana,” Karen added, as if that were further proof of the irreproachable pedigree of the previous owner.

  “Nice place, Billings,” Alex said as he ambled toward the bedroom. Might as well torture himself with the thought of Caitlin sleeping there instead of in his bedroom, where she belonged. “Low crime rate. Not like Baylorville. ’Specially in this area of town.”

  The real estate agent shot Caitlin a can’t-you-do-something-about-him look and hurried after Alex in an effort at damage control. She probably felt her commission retreating every time he opened his mouth. Damn straight.

  Karen shouldered past Alex and made for the wall closets.

  “You see, Caitlin,” she determinedly pulled open the louvered doors of the walk-in closet, “there’s plenty of storage space. That’s really important if you want a neat and uncluttered living area.”

  The agent ignored Alex’s loud snort.

  “You see how large the closets are? That’s such a plus nowadays when many apartments skimp on that sort of thing.”

  Alex peered in. “Perfect place for an intruder to hide,” he said pleasantly. “Lots of head room.”

  “If you please, Lieutenant.” Karen Lowden’s voice was a touch above absolute zero. “Now, Caitlin, as I was saying—”

  “I’ll take it,” Caitlin blurted.

  “Good!” Karen Lowden said.

  “You’ll what?” Alex asked at the same time.

  “When would it be available?” Caitlin asked.

  “Look, Caitlin, maybe you want to think it over—”

  Karen pretended he wasn’t speaking. “Right away. When would you like to move in?”

  “Now wait a min—” He tried to keep a calm voice.

  “Tomorrow.” Caitlin said. “If Sunday will work. I’m starting a new job on Monday and I want to be settled in.”

  “Tomorrow it is.” Karen opened a purse large enough to be an apartment itself and hauled out some papers and a Montblanc pen. “Just sign this lease and the apartment’s yours!”

  Alex tried to block Caitlin with his body but she was nimble and quick. A minute later the lease was signed.

  He didn’t have any moves left, short of picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

  Check and mate.

  Alex gave up. “I’ll help you move,” he said on a sigh.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are you sure you don’t want to think this over for a while?” Alex asked for the tenth time over lunch at a pleasant diner around the corner from her brand-new apartment. “What’s the rush?”

  Caitlin insisted on paying, saying she wanted to celebrate. It was the first time he’d allowed her to pay for a meal. It was supposed to be a celebration, but it felt more like a wake.

  “You wouldn’t want to do anything rash. That real estate agent looked like a shark.”

  “Alex.” Caitlin sighed, her head bowed. She looked up again, searching his eyes for…what? Whatever it was she was looking for, it wasn’t there. The only thing in his eyes was impatience, because he wasn’t getting his way. “I made the right decision on the apartment and Karen isn’t a shark. She seemed like a perfectly nice lady. It’s a lovely place and right on the bus line for the Foundation. It’s in good shape, it’s large and it’s affordable. I was very lucky.”

  God, signing the lease contract had been so hard. She’d had to stiffen her muscles to hide her shaking hands and had held tears at bay by sheer willpower.

  But she was doing the only thing she possibly could. She needed a home base, she needed her books and her things, he wasn’t asking her to stay…ergo, she had to find an apartment. No other way around it. If there was one thing twenty-three consecutive years of school had taught her, it was logic.

  Logic really didn’t have too much to do with her feelings though. Perfectly aware that she was doing the right thing—the only thing—it had still been like cauterizing a wound. Painful and necessary.

  Who knew what Alex was thinking? He was scarfing down his lasagna, face remote and closed. Not talking.

  Well, it was his show all the way. If he wanted her to stay, he had to say so, loud and clear.

  Though part of her wanted to weep, another part of her understood.

  Alex was a loner and, though it felt as if her heart were being ripped from her chest, she had to respect that. He obviously didn’t want her to go—but he just as obviously wasn’t willing to ask her to stay.

  Which left her where sh
e had somehow always known she’d end up with Alex.

  Nowhere.

  She pushed her food around on her plate, plastering a serene expression on her face. After a lifetime’s silence, Alex cleared his throat and Caitlin looked up.

  He forked up the last bite and pushed his plate away. “That was good.”

  Food. Okay, they were going to talk about the food. She could do that. “Yeah. Mine’s delicious.” It was—a creamy, warm goat cheese salad. Fabulous, except that every bite stuck in her throat.

  “Uh-huh.” His mouth lifted in a half smile. “If you’re a goat. Or a rabbit. Fantastic.” He made of habit of ribbing her good-naturedly about her light eating habits, mostly salads and whole grains. “How’d you know about this place? I didn’t know about it and I’ve lived here all my life.”

  “Karen told me.”

  His face closed up. Well, that was a conversation stopper. Dropping the K-bomb.

  Silence. Complete and utter silence.

  Get used to it. Once she moved into her new apartment, there was the possibility that they might see each other a few times. A lunch or two. Dinner, maybe. Maybe even go to bed together, and she’d get dressed and go back home, not knowing when she’d see him again. That was number one hundred forty-six in her Scenarios for Heartbreak.

  A clean break was best, the smart thing to do. The only thing to do. So why did it hurt so much?

  She finished her salad and sat back, hands in her lap, waiting to see what his next move would be—if there was a next move. Maybe this was It. One last meal, clearing out her stuff and she’d never see him again.

  She breathed in and out, past the pain of the thought.

  Alex cleared his throat. “Caitlin, I, ah, I wanted to ask you if, ah…” He stopped.

  She blinked. That was totally unlike Alex’s normal speech patterns. He spoke crisply, well and always to the point. She’d never heard him stammer, not once.

  Caitlin’s heart started pounding. She leaned forward. “Yes, Alex?”

  He pulled apart a slice of bread and started rolling the bread into little balls. “I was wondering if you would…”