Task Force Bride (12 page)

Holding her breath, holding on to Pike, until the last intrusion on her morning drove away, Hope finally inhaled a deep breath that pushed against him. “What does he mean by that? Do you think he knows what we’re doing?”

Letting her pull away, though taking her hand so she couldn’t immediately leave, Pike turned to face her. “Knight’s a sharp one. If he senses there’s more to a story, he’ll be relentless in uncovering it. Plus, he’s been supercritical of KCPD’s handling of the Rose Red Rapist case.”

“Why?”

Pike pulled off his ball cap and smoothed his hand over his hair. “I don’t know. Something makes it personal for him.”

Hope trembled at the idea of one more person keeping a closer watch on her than she’d like. “Do you think he’ll blow our cover and tip off your unsub?”

The breeze caught a loose tendril of hair and blew it onto Hope’s forehead. But Pike’s hand was there to smooth it back into place. “We won’t let him, okay? What’s this?” He traced the same finger along her throat to the notch of her collarbone, tickling her skin as he took note of the extra couple of inches of skin she was showing. “You’re changing your looks on me.”

He’d noticed the difference of a button and a belt? She hoped that was a good thing. “I was studying other women today, trying to emulate how they dressed and acted around men. I’m trying to be more convincing as your bride to be.”

“You did great with Gabe Knight just now. I’m kicking myself that we didn’t think of a ring to go with our cover story.”

Just then the door to her shop swung open and Nelda Sapphire came running out. Well,
running
was a relative term, considering the way she shuffled down the street in those high platform heels. “Hank! You get back here!” Nelda ran right past them with nary a look or word of acknowledgment. Instead, she clutched her bag beneath her breasts and shuffled it into double time. “Where is he going with that woman? You’re not leaving me! You owe me!”

The cursing blonde climbed into her compact car and made a U-turn to follow Hope’s father down the street. Pike thumbed toward the car as she drove past. “Promise me you’ll never change to that extreme.”

Hope drew in an easier breath and smiled with him. “I won’t. I couldn’t handle the shoes.”

Pike’s laughter faded as he tucked his cap into his back pocket and settled his hands at the nip of her waist. He pulled her half a step closer, dipping his face toward hers to whisper, “Seriously, though. Are you okay? I had no idea the reporters would still be here. Nick gave me a call and said you had some hangers-on. When he described your dad and Blondie there showing up, Hans and I booked it back over here.”

“Hans is in the truck, I’m assuming?” Hope debated where to rest her hands in order to complete this public embrace for whatever audience they had. Her hands bobbed from Pike’s shoulders to his biceps and finally came to rest against the Kevlar armor on his chest.

He nodded. “You didn’t answer me. How are you doing?”

She stared straight ahead at the contrast of her pale hands against his black shirt. “Pretty well, I think. I haven’t run away or pulled a knife on anyone—yet.” Instead of laughing at the joke, Pike fiddled with that stray curl again, silently waiting for her to continue. “I said everything Dr. Kilpatrick and Detective Montgomery asked me to. I’ll be on television and in the newspapers. The whole city is going to know who I am now.
He’s
going to know.”

Hope was decidedly uncomfortable standing in the circle of Pike’s arms in front of her shop where anyone on the block could see them. And while his abundant heat and gentle hands excited something feminine and fascinating and unfamiliar in her blood, it was the movements and shadows in windows and vehicles along the street that really made her nervous.

“Do you feel it?” She voiced the tension humming through her.

“Feel what?”

“Someone watching.” She tipped her head back to see his sharp gaze swinging back and forth. He was looking, too. “Do you think I’m paranoid?”

That clear blue gaze settled on her. “No. I’ve felt it, too. Since moving in last night. Like we’re living in a glass house. Someone’s got to be watching the place to know when they can drop off those creepy gifts without me seeing him or Hans hearing him. But just the same...” His hands tightened at her waist and he pulled her into his chest, winding his arms behind her back and resting his chin at the crown of her head.

Her arms caught between them and she whispered against the KCPD logo embroidered on his chest, “Did you see someone? What do you need me to do?”

“Easy, partner. I need you to let me hold you for a minute. I need to know that you’re safe and that this isn’t the craziest idea KCPD ever had.” Pike’s fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of her neck and tugged several curls from the clip she wore. Then they tunneled beneath to cup her head and pull her more snugly against him. “Okay?”

Hope nodded. She willed herself to relax against him. “I’m okay with that.”

And then she realized it didn’t take any will at all to turn her cheek to the strong beat of his heart. She didn’t have to think twice about sliding her arms around his waist and drifting closer to the imprint of his harder hips and thighs against her body. Her breasts pillowed against the wall of Kevlar and man and she had no desire to run away from the comfort and strength he provided.

Pike’s shoulders seemed to fold around her, blocking out the things that frightened her. He rubbed his chin against her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re not alone, Hope. It’s you and me, remember? This guy’s going to try to come after you, but he won’t get to you, understand? I won’t let him.”

Whatever the reason behind this show of support, Hope curled her fingers into the back of his shirt and held on. She needed to feel safe for a few moments. She needed to know she’d made the right decision to agree to helping the police.

She needed to hear him say it again, in that deep, husky voice that danced across her eardrums and soothed the fear from her heart. “You’re not alone.”

Chapter Eight

“I don’t like it.” Pike squatted down in front of the shattered windowpane in the vestibule at the bridal shop. Hans was right there in his business, too, sniffing the broken glass littering the floor, whining in his throat as Pike pulled his flashlight from the back pocket of his jeans. Those dark brown eyes were trying to tell him something about what had happened here, but nothing beyond the signs of a routine break-in were making the dog’s message any clearer. “What is it, boy?”

Hans sat and dipped his nose toward the corner where the frame around the busted pane met the adjoining brick wall. The dog’s long black muzzle moved closer and closer to the dangerous shards of glass—a strong enough hit on something that Pike swung his light around and leaned in closer.

The nose never missed a trick. There was a stain of viscous red liquid clinging to an arrow point of glass protruding from the window frame. “Our guy cut himself.”

Pike snapped a few pictures with his cell phone and texted them in with the report he’d made earlier. Then he patted the dog’s flank and pushed to his feet, drawing the shepherd away from the crime scene. “Good boy.” He bent down to ruffle up his fur before pulling the dog back into the shop. The intruder’s injury probably wasn’t the main reason he’d aborted the break-in. “You did good, Hansie. Bad Guy didn’t get in. You did real good.”

Hope was standing inside in the darkness of the closed shop, still wearing her trench coat and hugging her arms around her waist. “The one hour we were gone for pizza is when somebody breaks in? He’s definitely watching the place.”

“I know.” Pike unhooked Hans’s leash and harness and tossed him a crunchy treat from the pocket of the canvas jacket he wore. “I know it’s what we were hoping for, but I hate to say it. Our man’s taken the bait.”

At her audible gasp, Pike reached over to flip on a light switch to flood the store with light and hopefully alleviate some of Hope’s fear. Just as he’d imagined, she was pale as a ghost and keeping a wary eye on Hans to see where the dog settled down to enjoy his snack. But then those lake-gray eyes moved back to him, and he could see that, although she was rightfully concerned, she wasn’t on the verge of wigging out on him as she had done in the past. “I did a quick walk-through while you two were outside. It doesn’t look like anything has been taken or vandalized.”

Not for the first time, he wondered exactly what had happened in her past to cause those panic attacks, and what it took for her to control them. He knew one thing, though, the woman was a fighter. Whatever he, KCPD, her father, those damn reporters or the Rose Red Rapist himself threw at her, she kept coming back for more. Pike never would have expected that kind of tenacity from such a shy, feminine woman. But he admired it. He liked it.

He was beginning to notice and appreciate a few too many things about the neighborhood spinster. Things that kept distracting him from the idea that this was an assignment he was working on, not his “let’s be friends with everyone ’cause you got no game” love life.

But when he zeroed in on the patient expectation behind Hope’s glasses, he remembered she was looking to him for protection and guidance through this undercover op, not another kissing lesson.

“Hans tracked the scent to the sidewalk across the street, but we lost the trail. The perp probably climbed into a vehicle and drove north. It’d be easy to get lost in city traffic if anyone did spot him.” Pike shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his chambray shirt, physically reminding himself that this was work. He propped open the door and took a closer look at the mess they’d come back to. Whatever the intruder had been after, he hadn’t gotten through the newly replaced lock that led up to Hope’s apartment, or through the second door that led into her shop. The most likely reason the perp had turned tail and run was stretched out on his belly and licking treat crumbs off the tile floor. “I’m guessing Hans scared him off. He’s a better deterrent than your alarm system.” He aimed the flashlight at the wire tacked to the molding beside the door. “Which looks like it’s been cut. Camera’s out, too.”

“And we’re sure it’s him?” Her voice was closer now and he turned to find Hope standing in the shop doorway, holding a broom and dustpan, ready to keep moving forward. Definitely a fighter. But Pike had seen the worst the Rose Red Rapist and his accomplice could do. No matter how tenacious Hope might be, she didn’t stand a chance on her own against them. Pike needed to make her understand that she was part of a team.

“Sorry.” He took the broom and dustpan and set them just inside the door. “We’ll have to wait for the CSIs to secure that blood sample, dust for prints and check for any other trace before we can clean up.”

“Oh. Right.” She plunged her hands inside the pockets of her coat, marked where Hans was lying and that the dog was stationary and headed over to the counter, where she pulled down a long ivory dress and carried it toward the fitting rooms. “Then I’ll finish cleaning up in here while we wait.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Pike resigned himself to his most difficult challenge yet, and followed her across the shop. “Hold up, Hope.” He came up behind her in the mirror. He settled his hands lightly at her waist and looked at their reflection in the mirror. She hugged the simple, lacy dress in front of her and met his gaze in the mirror. He liked how the deep V of the neckline would reveal an enticing bit of skin, but the lace on top would keep her all covered up and ladylike. “You’d look beautiful in this.”

A rosy hue of self-consciousness crept up her neck and warmed her cheeks. “Thank you.” She blushed beautifully, without any false modesty, and he added that to the growing list of things he liked about this woman. He even kind of liked the rush he got, knowing something he said or did could cause all that pretty, porcelain skin to turn rosy. “Have you ever worn a tux?”

He nodded above her head. “Just once. My brother Alex’s wedding.”

“I bet you made a handsome figure all dressed up like that.”

Pike chuckled. “Except for that noose of a tie and the shoes that pinched my feet, it wasn’t altogether the worst wardrobe experience I’ve ever had.”

“You’re not a suit-and-tie kind of guy?”

Although he still wore his gun and badge on his belt, the jeans and work boots he wore now were pretty much the only uniform he had outside of his black KCPD regs. Unless he was truly off duty. Then it’d be running or fishing gear. “How’d you figure that out?”

Her lips softly pouted together when she smiled and something hitched inside him. Oh, yeah, he wouldn’t mind a little more schooling in
that
department. But, tempting as it was to uncover a little more of the innocent passion hiding behind the spinster facade, Pike had something more important they needed to accomplish first.

“I think we need to have another lesson.” He heard her breath catch when he reached around her to take the gown and drape it over the sofa.

“On what?”

“Trust. And what we can do to keep you safe.”

She spun around with an apology stamped on her face. “I don’t blame you for the attempted break-in. I know it takes me a little while to relax around new people, but I trust you.”

Pike reached for her hand. “I need you to trust my partner, too.”

Hope planted her feet and pulled against his grip. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable—”

“Shh.”

Hope’s eyes widened like twin moons as he turned his head and whistled. Hans jumped to his feet and loped across the shop. His toenails clicked on the hard tile floor.

“Come on, boy. Up.” Pike tapped his chest and the beast rose on his hind legs and propped two tawny paws on Pike’s shoulders. He panted with excitement as Pike rubbed his hands along Hans’s jowls and neck. “I always think he looks like he’s smiling when I do that.”

Sadly, the instant he’d released Hope’s hand to pet the dog, Hope had darted away to hide behind the trio of mirrors. “Dogs don’t smile.”

“One step forward and two steps back, eh, buddy?” Pike’s shoulders lifted with a deep breath. In a firmer tone, he pushed the dog down and ordered him to sit. Then he brushed off his hands and turned to Hope. “Come here. Hans is part of this undercover op, too, so we have to do this.”

Hope couldn’t seem to release her grip on the mirror. “Have to?”

“He won’t hurt you. I promise.” Pike held out his hand, asking her to trust him with this, too. He stretched his arm out farther. “He’s part of your protection team, Hope. I need Hans to be able to do more than guard the place when we’re gone. If, for some reason, I can’t be there when you need me, Hans is my backup.”

“Why wouldn’t you be there...?” There was no blush on those pale cheeks now. “Oh.”

He was her first line of defense. But he wasn’t her only line of defense. “Hans doesn’t know how to quit. If something happens to me, he’ll protect you.”

He waited patiently, never taking his eyes from hers. His patience paid off when she finally moved away from the mirror and laid her palm against his. He bit down on the urge to say,
Good girl,
and curled his fingers around hers to pull her up beside him, not two feet from the watchful eyes and black muzzle with all those teeth that seemed to terrify her.

Pike started talking before Hope’s fear took hold and she ran from him again. “It’s smart not to approach a dog you’re unfamiliar with. But I know Hans and how he behaves. A dog’s owner or handler should always clue you in on a dog’s behavior before you jump in to pet him or play with him.”

“That makes sense.”

“Curl your fingers into a fist and let him sniff your scent before you try to touch him.” Pike demonstrated what he wanted her to do. But when the dog’s long red tongue slopped out over Pike’s fist, Hope jumped back, digging her fingers into Pike’s forearm as she ducked behind him. Hans’s midnight-brown eyes shifted to her jerky movements and she retreated another step. But Pike pulled her right back to his side and the dog turned his attention back to him. “Most dogs bite because they’re startled, not because they’re inherently aggressive. Some breeds do attach their loyalty to one person or pack unit, and can be protective, but most of them will simply avoid or ignore an outsider unless you startle him or threaten his person or pack in some way.”

Hope squeezed her hand more tightly around Pike’s grip. “But some guard dogs
do
attack.”

“If that’s what they’re trained to do. Unless he’s got some mental defect, with enough time and consistency, and if they’ve been properly socialized, pretty much any dog can be trained to behave the way you want him to. So whether he’s a safe dog or a danger to others usually depends on the owner.” When she didn’t respond, Pike leaned closer and nudged his shoulder against hers. “I’m thinking maybe you haven’t been properly socialized, either.”

A deep breath eased from Hope and she bumped him back, understanding he was teasing her. “Are you training me like the dog?”

“It’s what I know how to do. Hans,
steh.
” The dog lurched to his feet and Hope darted behind Pike. Her fingers clawed into the back of his shirt, and Pike’s skin jumped where the ten needy imprints dug in. For a split second he was aware of breasts and grabbing hands and Hope’s warm body clinging to his. But despite the instant, thumping urge that heated his blood, Pike made himself stand rock-still. He spoke to her in the same calm, articulate voice he’d used with the dog. “Now you tell him to lie down.”

Her fingers tightened above his belt.

“Say his name and the command in a firm voice. You don’t need to yell, just be succinct.”

“He won’t listen to me.”

“The command is ‘Hans,
platz.
’”

The big German shepherd tilted his head to one side, as though questioning who Pike was giving the command to. “Hans,
platz,
” Hope whispered into the back of his shirt.

Pike reached behind him and pulled Hope in front of him. “You’ll have to say it so he can hear you.”

The dog was looking up at her now. And though she backed that sweet, round bottom right against his groin, Pike resisted the urge to do more than cup Hope’s shoulders and encourage her to try again.

“Hans.
Platz.
” Hope repeated the command in a stronger voice.

With what looked like a nod of his large, masked face, Hans stretched out on the floor at her feet. The warm vanilla scent of Hope’s hair swept past Pike’s nose when she tilted her head back to beam a smile at him. “He did it.”

Pike squeezed her shoulders before moving to stand beside her. “Now reward him for obeying.”

“How?”

“Treats. Playing a game—although I don’t think you’re ready for tug-of-war quite yet.” Pike squatted down beside Hope and mussed the dog’s fur on top of his head. “Or pet him.”

“I can’t.”

Pike tugged her down to her knees beside him. “You’re the bravest woman I know, Hope. If you can stand up to the Rose Red Rapist, you can pet ol’ Hansie here.”

While she processed that reassurance, Pike placed her hand on top of Hans’s head, and using his fingers to guide hers, showed Hope how to pet the warm, furry head.

“Easy.” Stroke once. Again. “That’s it. Did you know that petting a dog is supposed to lower your blood pressure?”

“I doubt they’d want to include me in that medical study.” Despite the sarcasm, she took over the gentle massage, and Pike gradually pulled his hand away.

“He’s warm like you,” Hope observed, continuing the gentle strokes on her own. “Hairier, of course.”

“I hope so.”

“And his ears are so soft.” Hope’s grip on Pike’s knee eased as she lengthened her strokes out to the dog’s shoulder. Although Hans was panting lightly, he seemed to enjoy the tentative massage. “We had two dogs when I was little. Short-haired. Bigger than Hans.” She swallowed hard and her fingers pinched his knee again. “Maybe because I was a little girl, they seemed bigger than they really were.”

Was she opening up to him about whatever had triggered this phobia of dogs? Pike brushed a tawny curl away from Hope’s cheek, silently urging her to continue. “What were their names?”

Pike felt the tension radiating off her. Hans sensed it, too, judging by the whine in his throat. Her fingers twitched in Hans’s fur. “Hank called them the babysitters.”