Take the Key and Lock Her Up (19 page)

He thrust his tongue inside her warm, welcoming mouth and pressed her back against
the stall door. She answered his every demand with her own, her tongue dueling with
his, her heat scorching him from the inside out. When she moaned low in her throat,
he gave an answering growl and slid his hand down her back to the delicious curve
of her bottom. He lifted her against his thigh, reveling in the soft feel of her through
her clothing, the heat of her that branded itself on him.

A toilet flushed in the next stall.

They jerked apart, gasping for air, as the other person in the restroom muttered something
about “rude people” and “get a room” before yanking the main door open.

O’Malley’s eyes widened. No,
Emily’s
eyes widened. He could never think of her as O’Malley again after
this
.

She laughed, then covered her mouth, as if shocked at herself. She stared at him,
confusion chasing a myriad of other emotions across her expressive features as she
obviously tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Devlin was just as confused as she was. It was a kiss—a hot, intense kiss—but still,
it was
just
a kiss. And yet, every nerve ending inside him felt as if it had been seared and
left raw. His erection strained against the front of his pants. And his arms ached,
ached
, to pull her soft curves against him again. His hands shook as he adjusted his pants
to ease the pressure.

Emily’s gaze dipped down, then shot back to his, her cheeks flooding with color.

He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, struggling for words that would make sense
of a kiss that had not only tilted his world but knocked it completely off its axis.

A knock sounded on the main door. “Ma’am, sir, I’m Mr. Hutchins, the manager,” a man’s
voice called. “Another patron complained that you were in here together. I’m afraid
I have to ask you to leave.”

Emily’s confusion turned to horror. Her eyes silently begged him to do something.

He cleared his throat, then cleared it again before he trusted his ability to speak.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hutchins,” he called out. “My wife and I had an argument and needed
some privacy to . . . resolve our differences. We’ll be right out.”

“Two minutes or I’m sending the police in after you.” Footsteps sounded outside the
door and rapidly faded away.

Emily shoved the door to the handicapped stall open and ran into the main bathroom.
She turned on the water, wet a paper towel, and pressed it to her heated cheeks.

Devlin watched with regret as the disheveled seductress disappeared and was replaced
by the all-business policewoman. She patted down her hair, adjusted her clothes, and
whirled around to face him. The only sign of the passion they’d shared was her lips,
still swollen from his kiss. Which just made him want to kiss her all over again.

She held out her hand. “Give me back my gun.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Emily—”

“Detective O’Malley,” she snapped.

He sighed. Did she really expect him to call her that after sticking his tongue down
her throat? The woman didn’t have any idea how much she’d affected him. Which was
probably a good thing.

“I can’t give you the gun,” he said. “Not yet. Not until it’s safe.”

“Safe? For whom?”

“For me. I don’t want you shooting me just because of a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” she squeaked. “I hope you’re referring to the kiss, because what
happened in that alley was no misunderstanding. That so-called friend of yours shot
at us. And there was someone else there, on top of the building, someone who took
the first shot. He had a silencer. What is going on?”

“The kiss wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was . . . incredible.”

Her eyes widened. When he didn’t say anything else, she said, “And the alley? The
shooting?”

“Give me a minute.”

“For what?”

He grinned and held his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. “To come up with a
plausible-sounding lie?”

She rolled her eyes. “Now
that
I believe. Nothing you’ve told me so far has been the truth, has it? Well, I’ll tell
you
the truth. Kidnapping a police officer will get you in prison for decades, and that’s
just the first charge I’m going to slap on you if you don’t tell me what’s really
going on and give me my gun. Now.”

“All right. If that’s what you want.” He reached for his belt and unbuckled it.

“What are you doing?” Her voice rose an octave.

“Giving you what you want.” He unzipped his pants.

Her face turned a rather charming shade of red. “Stop that right now,” she squeaked.

He watched her as he slid his hand into the top of his boxer briefs and slowly pulled
out her pistol. The waistband snapped against his stomach. Emily jerked and hit her
head against the wall behind her.

“Here you go.” He held it out toward her. “I didn’t have a holster. That was the only
place I could put it. Sorry about that.”

Her breasts rose and fell as her breaths rasped in and out. She reached for the gun,
her fingers touching his, sliding across his skin to the butt of the pistol.

“I’ve got it,” she whispered. “You can let go.”

He shuddered. “You’re dangerous.” His voice was thicker and deeper than usual as he
ever so carefully adjusted himself and then zipped his pants. As he buckled his belt,
she stepped around him, holding the gun down at her side. At least she wasn’t pointing
it at him. Yet.

Progress.

“We’re going back to the police station,” she said, her voice quiet.

“We need to talk first.”

A knock sounded and the door opened. “You two, out, now,” Mr. Hutchins said.

“Oh, good grief.” Emily fished her badge from inside her blouse where it hung on a
chain around her neck and held it up.

“I’m a cop. This man is a witness to a crime. I need a few more minutes. Get out.”

The man’s brows climbed into his hairline. He jerked back into the hallway and shut
the door.

“Huh. That was easy,” she said. “I must have sounded pretty threatening.”

Devlin gestured toward her hand. “Actually, I think it was the gun you were pointing
at him.”

“What?” She looked down and blinked, as if surprised to realize she was pointing the
gun toward the bathroom door. She groaned and thrust it into the holster at her waist.
“That’s like the fourth or fifth time in the past twenty-four hours that I’ve pointed
a gun at a civilian. I blame you.”

He grinned.

She narrowed her eyes.

He cleared his throat and forced a sober expression, but it wasn’t easy. The woman
was utterly adorable, especially when she was pissed off.

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called Tuck, giving him a quick account
of what had happened in the alley.

Devlin’s good humor fled. That stunt he’d pulled, kissing her to distract her, had
distracted
him
as well. How many minutes had passed since they’d entered the diner? Cougar and his
handler could be anywhere by now, or right outside, waiting for them to emerge.

Emily ended the call. “While SWAT gears up to secure the area outside, you can explain
what was really going on in that alley.”

He ignored her question and considered their options. SWAT was certainly capable of
getting Emily out of the diner and into the police station unharmed. But what about
later? When she went home? Devlin would rather keep her with him so he could watch
over her. But wouldn’t it be better if he used himself as bait and led them away from
the police station? Maybe, in the short term. It was a temporary solution at best
because Emily was still vulnerable as long as EXIT thought she was a threat.

There was another option—tell Emily the truth about EXIT so she’d fully understand
the danger. She was an intelligent woman. Faced with the facts, she’d have no choice
but to seek protective custody until the danger was over. No; Devlin had learned enough
from his law-enforcement family to know that wasn’t a good solution either. When budgets
got tight and Emily couldn’t produce any evidence to back up her claims, the protection
duty would be canceled. She’d have to go into hiding for the rest of her life, always
looking over her shoulder.

No. Impossible. That wasn’t fair to her, not when it was Devlin’s fault that she was
in danger in the first place. One bad decision—allowing her to ride with him in his
truck to go see Alex—had set everything in motion. If he’d made her get out, she wouldn’t
have seen him kill Hawley’s abductor and wouldn’t have done what no one had the entire
time he’d been an enforcer: connected the dots and realized he was an assassin.

He had to figure out how to ensure her safety long-term. That meant talking to Cyprian
again, trying to reason with him so he’d call his dogs off and leave Emily alone.
For now, Devlin would just have to allow her to go back to the station under SWAT’s
protection. He could make it even safer for her by going out the back and making sure
Cougar and his handler saw him. As long as they were trying to kill him, he’d at least
have the peace of mind of knowing they weren’t going after Emily.

“Start explaining, Devlin,” she repeated, sounding annoyed that he hadn’t answered
her yet. “And don’t think you can kiss me again to stall for time. I’m onto your game.”
Her right hand hovered over her holster, but her gaze dropped to his mouth, as if
she were thinking about their kiss.

The thought of pulling her into his arms and going for round two had him hardening
again. What was it about this one specific woman that was so addictive, so compelling?
She was nothing like Arianna, his fiancée. She had been kind and sweet, tall and willowy
thin, with legs that could have graced a fashion-show runway. He’d always thought
of her as the perfect woman. And then he’d met Emily, a little spitfire with generous
curves who was a full foot shorter than he was. Arianna would have been horrified
if her long, honey-blonde hair was ever out of place. But even though Emily’s shoulder-length
brown hair was messy half the time, he thought it looked absolutely perfect on her.
The unruly curls reflected her personality and had him longing to tug on them to see
if they’d bounce back like a spring.

“Devlin?” She stared at him, waiting for his explanation about the alley. She was
all business and completely unaware that she was confusing the hell out of him and
turning his perfectly planned, organized, categorized world upside down.

The alley. He had to make up a lie about the alley. No problem. He was good at lying.
Lies were useful. They were shields against the ugliness of reality. A carefully crafted
lie could mean the difference between life and death. So it didn’t bother him at all
to lie to Emily right now to protect her—even though he wished he didn’t have to.

He drew a steadying breath and schooled his features into a look of embarrassment.
He wished he knew how to blush to make the lies he was about to tell more convincing.

“I might have . . . taken advantage . . . of Steve’s sister and taken off without
leaving a number. The other guy, on the roof, that was his brother. They came out
here for some old-fashioned justice—a shotgun wedding, so to speak. When you entered
the picture, I think it spooked them. Things got out of hand.”

She frowned, weighing his answer. “I can totally see you taking advantage of some
naïve young woman and making enemies of her family. Probably got her pregnant too.”

He gritted his teeth but held on to his sheepish look, barely.

“I don’t buy the part where they got spooked and started shooting. I identified myself
as a police officer.”

He shrugged. “Did you smell Steve’s breath? I figure he and Jack pumped up their courage
with one too many beers before they confronted me. Alcohol and good judgment don’t
exactly mix.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s what, nine o’clock in the morning? And you expect me
to believe they’re already drunk?”

Shoot.
He hadn’t thought of that.

“What about the silencer?” she demanded. “Did you think I didn’t notice one of the
guys had a noise suppressor? Your average Joe doesn’t exactly walk around with expensive,
illegal equipment like that.”

“It’s not illegal if you register a suppressor with the ATF. Steve and Jack are typical
gun nuts. They probably have concealed weapon permits too.”

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. He tried not to feel offended that she was buying
his story so easily. He wasn’t in the habit of seducing innocent young women and taking
off like a coward after getting them pregnant.

“I’m not saying I totally believe you,” she said. “You may have made this all up on
the fly. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now. We need to get across
the street and sit down for another interview. I already had a boatload of questions
for you even before that fiasco in the alley.”

“Sure, let me call Alex first so he can sit in on the interview.” From the aggravated
look on her face, he could tell she didn’t like that, just as he’d hoped. He pulled
out his cell phone to complete his bluff.

She hurried forward and wrapped her hand around the phone. Since he didn’t let it
go, that meant her hand was essentially holding his. He found that he didn’t mind
that one bit. He grinned. She snatched her hand away and backed up a few steps, her
face flushing a delightful pink.

“There’s no reason to involve a lawyer,” she said. “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t
press charges against you for this debacle, as long as you answer a few harmless questions
and you
don’t
call Alex.”

“What kinds of questions?”

“I want Steve’s and Jack’s full names so I can follow up with them. There’s a whole
host of charges I’ll lay at their door.”

He nodded his agreement. He could make up a last name to go along with the fake first
names.

“And I want to talk to you about what you do at EXIT.”