Conflicting Interests (7 page)

He didn’t let her go until he was certain he could walk away,
and as he staggered back away from her down the hallway, he watched as she sank
to the floor, clutching her knees to her chest and letting her head sink to
rest on top of them. Her shoulders shook as she silently started to cry. His
soul was chastising him loudly, making it clear he was the cause for her pain
and while logic said her state was far more complicated than simple lust for
him, it didn’t abate the agony or the guilt he felt for what he’d allowed to
happen.

He stumbled back from her until he was standing back in the
living room, still watching the emotion that was coursing through her body.
“I’m so sorry.” His voice came out on a hoarse whisper and she shook her head,
refusing to look up.

He couldn’t leave her like this—there was no way in hell he
could just walk away from her in this state. He’d fucked up. Her emotion wasn’t
just about what had happened between them but he’d sure as hell made it a whole
lot worse. “I want you to stay with your friend Imogen. You’re exhausted, you’re
terrified to the point of falling apart. You need to get away from this place,
even if just for a few days. Please.” He was pleading with her and as she
continued to shake her head, he let his drop back in absolute helplessness.

All he wanted was to scoop her up and take her to bed, hold
her, make love to her, give her some small amount of peace but he was rooted to
his place in the living room, afraid to step even one inch closer to her. When
she climbed to her feet, she padded down the hallway past him and into the
kitchen, slipping on her hiking boots and coat, grabbing a tote bag that hung
by the back door and snatching up her cell phone from the counter.

She stood by the door, staring at his feet and waiting for
him to get the hint. He finally did. He snatched his own keys from the kitchen
counter and stepped through the door to the cool spring air.

She said nothing to him and he didn’t press. He’d done
enough already. He followed her all the way to Imogen’s house, where he’d
dropped her off the night she’d been attacked. He pulled over, waiting to see
that she got through the gate okay. She was eyeing him in the rearview mirror
and he waited until the gate was closed behind her to finally put some much-needed
space between them.

Too bad he’d not thought to do that sooner.

“Oh, love. I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. Talk to
me.”

“I touched his penis.”

“You what?” Imogen was practically shrieking at her. “You
box-grabbed the detective?”

“Imogen, where did you hear that? It’s not—”

“Study hall. Why? I’m not using it right, am I?”

“No. You’re not using it right at all. Backward. You’ve got
to stop copying junior-high sex slang. Half of them don’t even know what sex is
and the other half know more than we do.”

They were lying on their stomachs on Imogen’s bed, staring
out the wall of windows to the rocky shoreline below. Imogen’s bed didn’t have
a headboard and not because she couldn’t afford one. The head of the bed butted
right up against the expansive window wall and it was the most incredible
feeling in the world to lie on her bed and just stare down at the water beyond.
She was curled up in one of Imogen’s soft thick white down blankets, letting
the sight of the steam rising off the water soothe her overtaxed noggin.

She’d made a damn fool of herself. Again. She’d been half
crazy the night before, deliriously mad in her exhaustion and emotional lunacy.
He’d come to check on her and she’d crumbled into his protectiveness like some
seriously mentally disjointed woman. Maybe she needed to be locked up in an
insane asylum. She felt crazy.
But he’d felt amazing…

His desire for her was real. Hers for him was real as well.
But that was beside the point and she understood that. She didn’t like it,
especially not when that steadfast strength was what she needed most. But she
got it. Until she forgot about it last night and he apparently did too. Dear
God, she’d grabbed his wanker.

“So that’s not like a metaphor? You like actually grabbed
his Roger Moore?”

Talk about metaphor
. She cocked her head to the side
quizzically. It wouldn’t be the last time Imogen threw down a word that meant
absolutely nothing to Katrina and she could only assume a Roger Moore had
something to do with a man’s dick. So she nodded, turning her head to rest on
her upstretched arms as she looked at Imogen. “Like I zoned in and attacked. No
buildup, no inching my hands down along his body slowly, just—cock, hand, grab,
squeeze. I really think I lost my mind temporarily.”

“What was it like?”

“Losing my mind?”

“Don’t be coy with me. ‘Fess up.”

“Scary big.” She sighed as she returned her eyes to the
water. Lovely. Deliciously and arousingly big. Intimidating. Hard as steel but
smooth, like silk over steel. So very fucking masculine. Her mind was going
adjective-crazy on her.

“Ah. So, it was a Roger Moore.” Katrina was still clueless.
“Back in a flash.” Imogen hopped from bed, padding out of the room as Katrina
got lost in her adjectives.

Why couldn’t she have been sane last night? Katrina finally
felt human, thanks to the most decent night’s sleep in well over a week. She’d
slept next to Imogen all night long, falling asleep to the dizzying sight of
the lights surrounding the water and when she woke it wasn’t to a nightmare, it
was to dawn over the lake. She finally felt rested or something very closely
resembling it. She couldn’t stay here forever. In fact, she wouldn’t allow
herself to but she needed this break.

“Here.” Imogen handed her a long beanbag that was incredibly
warm to the touch.

“What is it?”

“It’s kind of like a heating pad.”

“And?”

“And you can cuddle it like Cat.”

“Kitty. And you don’t like Kitty and why, just out of
curiosity, would I want to cuddle a hot beanbag?”

“Well I don’t know. I use it for cramps but I just thought…”
Katrina’s lips started pulling up as she tucked the warm beanbag to her neck
and cuddled it. “That-a girl. Try to get some rest while I make breakfast. You
finally look awake again and you need to stock up on that for a while.” Imogen
left and Katrina drifted back to sleep.

* * * * *

“And you dated how long?” He was fighting the desire to
punch the man. It was Monday and he’d managed to avoid his tempting witness
over the weekend. No more messages, no more break-ins and she was still staying
with her friend Imogen. It all left him relieved—until he was forced to endure
her ex-lover. The man was a douche bag and while he was handsome, he was smug,
arrogant and he eyed every woman who walked past his office as though he’d
fucked every last one of them. He couldn’t stand the idea that this man’s cock
had been inside her body. It was a painful combination of absolute fury and
damn debilitating jealousy.

He shrugged casually as he leaned back in his desk chair.
The fucker was a corporate lawyer with a view for miles that Dillon was now forced
to stare out, behind the asshole’s head. Hatred was definitely what he felt for
this man but only half of it was actually warranted. The man was a schmuck—there
was no doubt about it. But he wasn’t a threat to Katrina. At least not the kind
of threat Dillon was allowed to worry about.

“A few months. We had our fun but you know, plenty of fish
in the sea and all that bullshit.” He chuckled, looking at Dillon as though he
expected some show of camaraderie.
Fat fucking chance
. Dillon tried to
kill the man with his eyes but the guy was oblivious to the hatred.

“I’d like to know where you were two Sundays ago.”

“Out of town. I was in San Francisco on business. I’m sure
you want verification. I’ll have our travel coordinator get it for you very
soon.”

Saying thank you was a struggle and not lunging across the
man’s desk and punching him was difficult but he somehow managed.

“So what happened to my Kat, hmm?”

He stood, shaking his head and turning for the door. “I’m
not at liberty to discuss that.”

“Been meaning to call her. You’ve seen her. Incredible ass,
tight pussy, perky as hell tits. I wouldn’t mind another run at it with her.
Maybe she’ll appreciate the distraction at the moment.”

Dillon’s limit hit a brick wall and disintegrated. “You’re a
fucking asshole, you know that? Get confirmation of your travel to me before
the end of the week or I’ll be paying you another visit.” And then he left
before Mr. Asshole could piss him off even more.

He should be happy the man was such an obvious dickhead but
he knew even dickheads could turn on the charm when they wanted—how else would
Katrina have ever fallen for a prick like him?

Dillon was suddenly glad he’d waited to talk to the man
until the end of his day. His tires nearly screeched into his driveway and he
didn’t even bother walking in his own house before he stomped down to Molly’s,
grabbed a beer from her fridge and flopped down at the dining room table. The
boys were in the living room scrambling to get their homework done so they
could disappear into Xbox world as soon as possible.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch, little bro?” Molly was
wiping down counters as she eyed him curiously.

“Nothing.”

She snorted. “Yeah. I believe that.” She tossed the rag at
him, hitting him square in the face. “Wipe that table clean. Pizza’s gonna be
here soon.”

He wiped down the table as she grabbed her own beer and
joined him. “Okay.” He sighed deeply, trying to let go of the day. “I’m having
a problem with a witness.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Girl problem.”

“Oh. You’re not really allowed to have girl problems with
witnesses.”

“And there’s the problem.”

Molly stared at him. He watched as the gears turned in her
head and her mouth screwed up before she shook her head in confusion. “Wait. I
could have sworn you kind of had a thing for Ms. Page. I mean, I don’t know…the
way you kind of wanted to hate her after parent-teacher conferences but you weren’t
really very convincing and the way you were with her at the baseball game…I
don’t know. I just really thought maybe there was something there.”

He stared at her. He was trying to speak to her
telepathically but it wasn’t working, given the confusion evident on her face.
So he raised his brow and cocked his head to the side and he waited and waited…

“Oh! Oh oh oh
oh
… Well talk about a small world.
She’s obviously okay but is she, I don’t know, okay? Is she in danger or hurt
or…” Molly knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t talk to her about this so he returned
to staring at her. “Well shit. Now you’ve got me all worried. I like her.”

“Yeah, well I do too.” She gave him her best big-sister
sympathetic face.

“Then tell me about that part of it.”

“Well it goes a little something like this. I like her, she
likes me. I’m not allowed to like her but she comes on to me anyway, naturally
because I’m a man and can’t quite get my body to do what my brain is telling me
to do, I allow it to happen just a bit too long, then I hurt her feelings by
putting a stop to it. And now…I can’t stop thinking about her. Or worrying
about her for that matter. And she grabbed my crotch. That was nice.”

“Ohhhh. Like a reverse box grab. Nice.” He cocked his head
to the side in confusion. “I don’t know. Jake came home saying it the other
day. Where do they get this stuff?”

His phone started buzzing across the table and he snatched
it up. “Adler.”

“Hi Detective. It’s Officer Anderson. You said you wanted to
be called first if there was any activity at Ms. Page’s house?” He shot to his
feet just a bit too quick to appear casual and Molly joined him with a worried
expression on her face.

“Yeah.” His heart started hammering.

“Well it’s actually her. I mean—Ms. Page is here. She was
carrying a bag with her and she looks like she intends to stay. I mean I don’t
think she just showed up like she usually does to feed the cat.”

Shit
. “Okay, she’s allowed to be at her own home.
It’s not a crime for her to come home.” He sounded annoyed with the man, but in
truth he’d be livid if the man hadn’t called. He was just annoyed in general
and he didn’t want her there alone.

“Well, that’s…not all.” Anderson was starting to sound
nervous. “She’s not alone. Some guy showed up driving a Lexus. Rich-looking guy
in a suit with blond hair.”
The ex.
“She just let him in so she must
know him but I’m going to go up and check on her. Just thought you’d want to
know.”

He thanked the man before disconnecting and grabbing his
coat off the back of his chair. “Gotta go. I’ll be back in a while.”

His anxiety level was getting a workout today and as he took
off toward her place he gripped the steering wheel hard until his knuckles
turned white. His fury, his jealously, his roiling emotions which he couldn’t
even seem to put a name to were inappropriate given his position but he failed
to care in any way.

He had no real business going over there at the moment but
he just couldn’t seem to make the rational decision he knew he should make. He
should still be sitting at Molly’s table eating pizza but instead he was
speeding toward her house with no real purpose except her douche bag-ex was
with her and his heart felt like it was going to explode.

His composure promised to be a challenge.

“What are you doing here, Jason?”

“Oh come on, Kat. I’m worried about my girl. A cop shows up
today asking questions about our relationship. I mean I’m a lawyer, for fuck’s
sake. I’m not stupid. You were obviously involved in something.” He looked
worried. She knew better but she held the door open and let him in.

He moved instantly to her couch and planted himself there as
she stared at him. She really didn’t want him there. At the same time she
wasn’t sure she was ready to be alone there either. She’d not been at her home
alone since the butt crack of Saturday’s dawn. Imogen had begged her to stay
but Katrina just wasn’t capable of being so dependent on her.

Besides that, she was starting to think maybe the whole
thing had just gotten blown out of proportion. He’d broken in and then he’d
called and threatened her. Maybe that was all he wanted to do, scare her. Maybe
the police activity had scared him off. Maybe nothing would ever happen again
with this creep. But the maybes didn’t really help when she stepped into her
home alone and the fear set in.

She stayed in the kitchen getting Kitty’s food ready for her
as the old cat staggered her drunk self out from the spare bedroom.
Poor old
girl
. “Well you can see I’m fine, Jason.” She set the cat food dish on the
floor and moved to refill her water dish as Kitty attacked the food dish like
it was a living rodent.

“I miss you, Kat. What can I say? When the cop showed up
today I got scared and it just reminded me of how much I care about you.” He
was driveling on, his bullshit literally slipping past his lips like verbal
vomit. She really did hate this man now that she could see him for the jackass
he truly was.

“You said a cop came to visit? Who was it?”

“How the fuck should I know? Just some detective. Tall, dark
hair, mid-thirties. Why does it matter? The guy was a dick. So can I take you
out Friday? Help take your mind off all this nonsense?” Her lips pulled up in a
small smile at the thought—not of going out with Jason—ick—but of Dillon. If
Dillon was rude to him Jason had deserved it and given their conversation was
without doubt about her, she couldn’t help but feel a trill of warmth coursing
through her. Dillon had defended her in some way. She was certain of it.

When there was a knock on her side door, she jumped a mile
and dropped the lid of the cat food can she’d just picked up. Officer Anderson
was standing there, waiting patiently for her to open the door. “Hi, Officer.”
She was hoping he’d want to come in.

“Hi. Everything okay, Ms. Page?”

“Yes. Jason is an acquaintance of mine. I’m fine but thank
you for checking. Would you like to come in?” Her face fell when he declined
the offer and she was once again stuck with Jason and his proposition for a
date. Maybe she should agree. She could use the distraction for sure.

Jason thought he was far better in bed than he actually was
but who was she to complain? It had been months since she’d gotten laid and
since Dillon had made it clear they wouldn’t be going there she was now just as
sexually frustrated as she was just plain frustrated.

But could she really stomach dealing with the ass just to
get laid? Was she capable of doing that? Normally she’d say no. Right now she
was hurting thanks to Dillon’s rejection and she was just desperate for
something, anything, to give her some relief from the constant worry that was
plaguing her. But Jason? Ugh.

Instead of answering she changed the subject. “How are you,
Jason?” That would throw him off. If there was one thing Jason liked to do it
was talk about himself.

“You know how busy I am. It’s why things didn’t work out for
us the first time around.”

She snorted and nearly lost the swig of beer she’d just
taken out through her nose. “It is not!”

“I miss you, Kat. I’ve been thinking about you for so long.”

“Like since this afternoon?” She really wasn’t making this
easy on him but he didn’t much seem to care. She wasn’t surprised. He was one
of those people who could sit blandly by while you talk and not hear a word of
what you were saying. Self-absorbed was an understatement.

“So are you going to tell me what happened? The cop wouldn’t
say, of course.”

“Oh you know, some guy broke in, attacked me and then called
me and left a nasty message.”

“That’s it?”

“Because that’s not enough? What the hell does that mean?”

“I just assumed you’d been, I don’t know, nearly killed or
something.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she muttered. She hadn’t even
offered him a beer and she stood at the kitchen counter refusing to join him in
the living room drinking her beer. She really did not like this man.

“You want me to stay tonight? I promise I’ll make it worth
your while.” His expression was suddenly seductive but it kind of made her want
to puke.
The hell he would.
He was as self-absorbed in the bedroom as he
was in real life. But part of her was still tempted. She hated being alone now
and he was offering.

When another knock came at her side door after they’d made
another ten minutes of small talk and she’d subtly rejected his advances three
more times, she jumped a mile again, spilling her beer this time.

Dillon was suddenly filling the window of her door with his
hands on his hips. He was glaring at her and she instantly had a lump in her
throat. She was trembling as she approached the door and she took a deep breath
as she reached for the doorknob. He watched every last move she made.

She couldn’t tell what was going on in that handsome head of
his. He looked angry but his eyes looked worried. The intensity of his body
language left her tingling.

“You have company?” He spoke quietly as she pulled the door
open but quiet as his voice was, he couldn’t disguise his irritation. Her gaze
dropped to his chest as he stood in the doorway, making no move to enter. She
suddenly felt guilty—rational thought didn’t support that in any way but she
did. She was also still mortified. This was the first time she’d seen or spoken
to him since the unfortunate cock grab and as she tried to function like an
adult her brain started flashing images and memories of her assault on his
body.

Traitorous fucking brain.
She could feel his hard
erection under her hand as surely as if it was that night all over again and as
she stared helplessly at his chest she started to panic.

“Who’s there, Kat?” Jason hollered from the other room and
she rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.

“That man is an asshole.” Dillon was still talking quietly
for only her to hear as he leaned toward her. And he still looked angry. Which,
frankly, left her feeling defensive.

But her defensiveness was a blessing and she got hold of her
humiliation quickly as her own irritation built. “Is that a professional
assessment? Does it bear on this case in some way?”

And then the prick was there, eyeing Dillon with a narrow
glare. Dillon was glaring right back and Katrina was doing the only thing she
could—shaking her head like an idiot.

“I have business to discuss with Ms. Page.”

“Are you asking me to leave or telling me leave?” It was
turning into a damn showdown at the Katrina Corral.
Fuck fuck fuck
.

She turned to Jason quickly, grabbing his arms. “I’m telling
you to leave. I’ll talk to you soon but now just isn’t a good time.” He was
still glaring at Dillon and though Katrina’s back was to him she was guessing
he was glaring right back.

“Until Friday then, Kat?” And then eyeing Dillon with a cold
stare before returning his eyes to her, he continued. “Like I said, I’ll make
it worth your while. I know exactly what you need to ease all this damn
tension. You know I can show you a good time.”

She wanted to gag. Jason wasn’t even looking at her when he
said it but instead was taunting Dillon with his eyes and an immature smirk.

“I said I’ll talk to you later.” She should have rejected
him outright, put Dillon at ease and been honest but she knew that would rile
Jason up. He didn’t like rejection. He was too pompous and self-righteous to
handle it and she didn’t feel like dealing with that at the moment.

And then before she could stop him Jason kissed her. He just
laid it on her as she cringed, pulled back and let out a shriek of surprise.
She felt Dillon’s hand on her shoulder as he grabbed her gently but firmly and
pulled her body back to his. His other hand shot out over her shoulder and
shoved Jason away from her.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” He was damn near growling
and she could hear the vibration of his voice through his chest as it radiated
out through her body, held snug to him.

Jason looked flabbergasted, appalled, offended and just
plain floored. “My hands have touched every last inch of her fucking skin. Who
the fuck are you to—”

Dillon’s hand was suddenly on her hip, pushing her to the
side as he started lunging toward Jason. But Katrina could sense what he was
going to do with nothing more than the forward movement of his chest against
her back and she spun to him, putting her palms on his chest.

His breathing was harsh and his sneer was venomous as he
glared at Jason over her shoulder. “Detective.” She was trying to talk in a
soothing voice but she realized quickly it was going to take more than that to
get his attention. “Detective!”

His eyes flashed to hers for the briefest of seconds before
nailing Jason to his spot again. “Dillon, please.” Now she was just begging but
the rush of breath that escaped his lungs at the sound of her pleading voice
made it clear she’d finally reached him.

His eyes finally returned to hers and she could do nothing
but hold his gaze. She felt her brow flinching at just the same time as his
brow flinched and his hand moved to gently grip her shoulder.

“Jason, I need you to leave.”

“Kat, this man—”

“Now! Please.” She still couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from
Dillon’s and he seemed just as trapped by her eyes. Jason left without a
further word and she breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally closed
behind him.

“He is not a good man, Katrina.” His voice was low and warm.
“Please.” He shook his head in frustration as she studied him. “Please don’t
see him.”

“What right do you have to ask me?” She couldn’t seem to
make her voice sound as challenging as she intended. Instead she just sounded
quiet and desperate.

“None. But I care about you and I don’t want to see you hurt
by him.”

“But this really doesn’t change anything with us does it?”

He looked broken and devastated, just how she felt. She
wanted him so incredibly and knowing he desired her too did nothing but make
her feel helpless. “I’m sorry. I know I have no right to ask but please just
give me this.” His hand was gently holding her shoulder and she’d not managed
to remove her palms from his hard chest that was slowly rising and falling
beneath her hands.

She nodded but said nothing and when she stepped back from
him to her kitchen counter, he exhaled a deep breath and they went back to
studying each other. This was just damn painful. She needed him. She needed him
in this moment more than she’d ever needed a man but he was just out of reach. “You
can let yourself out.”

She turned and walked from the room to her bedroom, refusing
to look back. She stayed there sitting on the side of her bed, waiting to hear
the door close again and once it had she returned to the kitchen, finding a
note on the counter.

I’m sorry.

Yeah? Well she was too.