ChasingShadows (11 page)

“You told her who he was and she broke it off, right?” James’
cool voice belied the anger that seethed in his crimson face.

“I didn’t have to. She figured it out after a couple of
dates.”

“Lisette never got friendly with him, did she?”

“How the hell do I know? She loves everyone.” Alex slammed a
fist into his open palm. The pain did little to relieve the ravaging ache in
his gut and heart.

* * * * *

Juliana’s afternoon was as quiet and peaceful as the
cerulean sky. She used the opportunity to unpack moving boxes stacked in her
garage. The task provided her mind a welcome respite from dwelling on Alex and
Lisette. Until Alex called for assistance or she experienced another dream, she
could do little.

In dismay, she looked at the boxes as endless as an ant trail.
Where had she put all this stuff in her New York loft? To top it all, she still
needed to sort through a storage shed full of her mother’s belongings—all she
wanted from her father’s house except for her own childhood mementos. She kept
no reminders of her father.

His death six months ago had been her catalyst to return to
San Jose. The only thing left to handle was his substantial estate. Thankfully,
the lawyers managed the probate matters, leaving her little to do except sign a
stack of papers that made the Library of Congress look small.

Dog-tired after unpacking and organizing for hours, Juliana
sat down at the kitchen table to eat a late dinner of leftover pizza. She
worked on the investment proposals for her newest clients in preparation for
next week.

An irritated grunt escaped her when she looked at her
research on Altz Corporation. Hastings had better have a solid lead on the
company or he’d lose every dime. He might as well have thrown the cash out a
high-rise window. The street bums would have gotten better use of it.

While deep into analyzing the Altz financials, the doorbell chimed,
and she jumped and bumped the file. Loose pages spilled across the tile floor. “Dang
it.” She glanced at her watch. Eleven p.m.?

The habit of living alone in New York forced her to grab the
cordless phone before setting off toward the front door. She poised an index
finger on the speed-dial button for 9-1-1.

Her eyes widened when she glimpsed the familiar rugged
profile through the peephole. “Alex?”

“Yeah.” His unforgettable voice was tired and flat.

“What’s up?” Juliana twisted the stiff deadbolt, but it
didn’t budge.
Why do I bother?
She glowered at the lock, yanked again,
and it clicked open.

“I was in the neighborhood, saw your lights on.” He craned
his neck to peek around her. “You could light up a city block with the power
you’re burning.”

In the neighborhood. Right.
She almost laughed aloud
.
“I like light.” Stepping aside, she let him into the foyer. “It keeps me
company.”

Alex’s dark eyebrows peaked and a smile tugged at his
sensuous mouth, causing her heart to flip-flop.

Juliana closed the door, leaving the deadbolt unlocked. “Why
are you really here? Arresting me for exceeding my electricity quota?”

“I promised to look at your porch light and deadbolt.” His eyes
probed hers, gripped and reached into her core. She forced herself to look away
before she drowned in the twin blue lakes.

“It’s a little late.” Juliana stepped away from him and set
the phone on the bombe chest. She ignored her fluttering heartbeat.

“You’re awake. I’m awake.” He shrugged his shoulders in a
leisurely manner.

“You shouldn’t be. Go home, get some sleep.”

Alex skimmed his fingers through his messy hair. “Sleep? Never
heard of it.”

Juliana loved to see his fingers tease his thick hair, and
the fluctuating effect. She longed to sink her own hands into the auburn mane,
to feel the satin softness she’d once loved touching. Her hands nearly lifted
of their own accord.

Stop!
her mind howled, and she locked her arms to her
side.

“Go keep Andrea company.”

“James is with her.” He scrubbed his face and sighed. “I
can’t face her right now.”

Juliana nodded slowly. Until he had concrete news to report
to Andrea, she could only imagine that bearing witness to Andrea’s grief was excruciating.

Her curiosity piqued, she changed the subject to one she
hoped was less sorrowful. “What’s the relationship between you and James?”

“We were recruited at the same time. We were partners until
I made Lieutenant in January.” Alex crossed his arms over his chest and leaned
against the kitchen archway. “He’s roomed with me since his divorce. It was
supposed to be temporary, but it’s been eleven months. Now,” he laughed dryly,
“he’s hot for my sister.”

Surprised by his cool admission, she asked, “You okay with
that?”

“He’s my best friend. There’s no one I trust more.” An
indefinable expression skipped cross his face.

“I’m glad. For them.” If she couldn’t experience blossoming
love, at least she could watch it happen from a distance. Juliana brushed past
him through the archway, feeling his body heat shoot through her, compounding
her misery.

He followed her into the dining nook. Kneeling to gather the
papers strewn across the floor, she felt his eyes scour her.

“Do you always treat your files so well?”

“Only when the doorbell scares the crap out of me.” A flush
leapt to her face.

A few pages rested against the far wall, and Alex bent to
retrieve them. “Altz? You’re kidding, right?”

Obviously, his own investment knack still shadowed him. “I
take my work seriously,” she teased with a mock glower.

“Then maybe you ought to quit your day job and become a
psychic full-time.” He stacked the loose papers on the table and regarded her
with wry amusement. “Don’t you know what’s going on at Altz? The company should
never have gone public. They’re weak; the stock will never rise.”

“It’s a solid company. Why shouldn’t I invest in it?”

“Gold Maker, huh?” He laughed, shaking his head.

His hearty, open laugh made her heart soar. She so missed
his incredible laugh and the way it lit up his face. He flashed that slightly
crooked, devastating grin she adored. “Don’t tell me you had a vision the
company’s on a turnaround?”

Her own laughter bubbled out and she fell back on her butt,
fanning her warm face with the retrieved papers. “It’s a dog, isn’t it? I have
a client who thinks he has a crystal ball.” Juliana hesitated. She’d convinced
herself earlier in the day that she wouldn’t allow her mind to intimidate her
heart where it concerned Alex. There were things she wanted to know about him. “You’ve
kept up with the investing world.”

They had finished first in a high school investment contest
together. Their plans following graduation had been to earn their finance
degrees, hers at Stanford and his at San Jose State, where he had won an
athletic scholarship. They planned to work at a brokerage firm together for the
experience, then eventually start their own company.

Foolish dreams.
Damn you, Dad! Damn the Westwood curse.

He moved closer, towering above her. “I follow the market. Made
enough to buy a decent house before the real estate boom sent prices
rocketing.”

“Good for you.” She accepted Alex’s extended hand, and
electricity zinged up her arm and down her back. He pulled her nearly into his
arms.

Their fingers twined and he looked down at her, his eyes
smoldering. “I’m glad you followed your dream.”

His voice was like a sultry breeze. He caressed her cheek,
leaving her knees shaky.

She reached up to stroke his face, but he caught her wrist
gently in his large hand. He bent his head and she sucked in her breath when
his lips brushed her palm so provocatively, her entire body trembled. She would
have melted to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her up.

“Alex, please.” The whispered words escaped before her heart
stopped them. Her mind screamed at her to run for the hills, while her heart
told her to cave in and let go.

As well as she knew it was dark outside, she knew she’d
never stopped loving Alex. The realization slammed her hard, and her heart
jolted.

She pulled free and backed away from him. Crescent fingernail
marks in the papers clutched in her hands diverted her attention as she
smoothed them out.

Alex cleared his throat, edging past her. The sexual tension
followed him to the foyer as if handcuffed to him.

“Call me if you need help.” Her emotions roared inside with
no door, no window, no outlet. She focused on arranging her files into a
semblance of order while she whipped her emotions into line.

A few minutes later, Alex called to her. “Jewel, come here.”

There he goes with that nickname again!
The memories
the name summoned disconcerted her. She loved hearing him call her Jewel
too
much.

She slid past him and stood in front of the door. He moved
so close, the heat emanating from his muscular body burned into her already
boiling core.

Inching the door shut, he showed her how the lock didn’t
line up with the doorjamb. “That’s your problem.”

Her eyes absorbed the misalignment. “I suppose the builder
will have to fix it?” She looked up into Alex’s face. His eyes hooded, he was
all business again. A silent cry of relief shot through her head.

“More than I can handle tonight. You should get it fixed
before it gets worse. It’s easier to lock if you lift up on the door.” His
demonstration looked effortless with his strength. “You try.”

He stepped back, and they deliberately avoided touching each
other. But the air sizzled around them, along her bare skin.

Following his example, she found less pressure on the lock. “I
can deal with it until it’s fixed.”

With a familiarity of long-time friends, they began diagnosing
the porch light. Juliana held a flashlight to illuminate the dead lamp while
Alex dismantled it.

Curiosity about his past burned within her, and he seemed
open to conversation. She couldn’t forego her first chance to grill him. “Alex,
did you ever marry?” Her throat held her breath hostage.

“What?” The muscles of his extended arms tightened.

A screw dropped to the brick porch and pinged down the
steps, landing among the multicolored petunias and marigolds.

“Just making small talk.” She swallowed the stagnant air in
her throat. “Do you mind?”

Alex handed the glass lamp globe to Juliana. “Only if I can
ask the same.”

“Deal.”

“No. Never been married.”

“Anyone serious?” She set the lampshade on the porch and
illuminated the guts of the porch light.

“No.”

The flashlight silhouetted his profile, and Juliana couldn’t
see his expression. “Why not?”

“Because no one—” He paused, as though to say something
else, then appeared to change his mind. “Because cops and wives don’t mix.”

“Oh.” She sensed what he wanted to say, but shied away from
that line of questioning.

“My turn.” Alex dangled the light’s electrical wires, his
eyes fixed on the repair job.

She made it easy on him. “No, I’ve never been married, and
no, there’s no one serious.” The wistfulness in her heart steered clear of the
words that slipped from her mouth.

“Why not?” Intense skepticism marked his expression as he
glanced down at her. Her insides tingled from the impact.

“Because psychics and husbands don’t mix.”

Wariness registered on Alex’s face, as if he expected a
seasoned liar’s lamest excuse.

Now or never. Juliana took a deep breath, inhaling Alex’s
musky male scent. She lowered her arm to her side, the light beam bouncing off
the brick landing. Alex ceased working, and his eyes probed for hers from the
dark porch.

“I didn’t leave you of my own free will.” Air became thin
and her heart beat wildly. “My father had me committed.” Her voice sounded
strangled to her ears.

But she clearly heard Alex’s sharp intake of breath. “What
the hell?” The screwdriver clanged on the porch and followed the screw into the
flowerbed. He advanced toward her as if in slow motion.

A tremor rolled through her from the horrible memories. She
dropped the flashlight on the bricks and it landed with a crunch. The beam winked
out.

Nothing prepared her for actually uttering the truth to Alex
in person. The impact and release were so great, her knees buckled beneath her.

In a blur, Alex caught her to him. Her arms wound around his
neck of their own volition. She clung to him while he carried her to the couch
in her family room. He sank into the thick cushions and cradled her on his lap.

“Jewel?” Alex tenderly swept loose hair off her face.

Gazing into his eyes, she recognized pain—and guilt. Unenthusiastically,
she said, “Alex, let me up, please.”

Instead, he cuddled her closer and she let it slide. Bound
by his arms, sitting on his lap felt exquisite.

“Look at me.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to
latch with his. “Your father did what?” His voice faltered.

“You heard me correctly,” she whispered.

“What the hell do you mean, he had you committed?” Alex’s
steely arms stiffened around her.

Juliana’s heart beat as rapidly as a jackhammer and her face
flushed hot. The day of reckoning had arrived. One, two, three… The calming
count to ten was maddening.

“Answer me,” Alex demanded through clenched teeth.

A blade of snow defined his scar. With a tentative finger,
Juliana traced it, gaining strength from the pulsing edge. Alex dropped his
fingers from her chin and twined them tightly with hers.

She exhaled, then seized a deep breath. “My father had
doctors shoot me up with sedatives after the prom night accident until he
shipped me off to New York.” She nestled their threaded hands on her lap,
giving a gentle squeeze. “Our housekeeper helped sneak me out of the house between
doses so I could go to Johnny’s funeral.”