Turn on a Dime - Blane's Turn (13 page)

“Got it.” Kade tossed back the rest of his drink and stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

Blane gave him a nod, watching as Kade disappeared from the room, but as hard as he listened, he couldn’t hear when he left. A smile tinged with pride tugged at the corners of his mouth. His little brother was good. They made a damn fine team.

The first call Blane made while driving to work was to the florist he had on speed dial. Kandi had demanded flowers for every infraction, real or imagined. It had ceased being a pleasure to give them to her and had become a chore. This order made him feel quite different and he was clear to the florist about his specifications.

There wasn’t a woman Blane had yet met who didn’t have a weakness for an elaborate display, the more expensive, the better. He wondered when the last time had been that Kathleen had received flowers. This should work to get her back into his office and from there . . . well, Blane would just let things take their natural course.

By noon, however, he still hadn’t heard from her. He called the florist, who confirmed delivery, leaving Blane wondering if Kathleen was stubborn enough to not even acknowledge the gift. Well, what had he expected? Her to come falling into his arms because he bought her some roses?

Well . . . yeah. Sort of.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket and briefcase. He had to be in court this afternoon. It had been so long since Blane had needed to exert himself in pursuit of a woman, it seemed he was a bit rusty. It was a bit demoralizing.

His cell rang as he was leaving the building.

“I found Mark,” Kade said.

Blane slid behind the wheel of his Jag. “Good. Take him to my place.”

“Can’t. He gave me the slip.”

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t be judgy,” Kade retorted. “It was either follow him or his backpack, I picked the backpack.”

“So you have that?”

“Not yet—”

Blane interrupted him with a disgusted snort.

“—but I will.”

“And what exactly am I paying you for?” Blane asked as he started the car’s engine.

“You’re not,” was Kade’s dry response before he ended the call.

Blane smiled. Kade hated looking incompetent. Come hell or high water, Blane was positive he’d have that backpack and its contents within the next forty-eight hours.

Court seemed to drag this afternoon and afterwards Blane had dinner with a potential client. Wining and dining was his forte so William Gage, the managing partner of the firm, often sent Blane to win new business.

While part of his mind was focused on the conversation, another part was solely occupied in wondering about Kathleen. Blane couldn’t help the niggle of worry in the back of his mind. Yes, he’d taken away Sheila’s phone and hopefully distracted Kathleen from thinking there was anything else she could do with this case, but from what he was quickly learning about her, she wasn’t the type to dissuade easily.

His smile was automatic as he listened to the man sitting across from him, impatiently waiting for the dinner to be over. Finally, the tab came and Blane paid before walking the guy out to his waiting car. With a final handshake, he sealed the deal and sent him on his way.

Now to go check on Kathleen.

He was close to home so stopped to change into jeans, throwing on his leather jacket to conceal his gun. Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to her apartment.

The windows were dark and no one answered his knock. Blane stood there, wondering if she was on another date. He had no way of knowing, no way to track her down, and not enough of a relationship with her to be informed of what she was doing, and more importantly, who she was doing it with.

Shoving a hand through his hair in frustration, he turned to go just as her new neighbor stepped outside. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw him.

Blane immediately smiled. People always responded more positively to a smile. “Hi,” he said. “I’m looking for Kathleen. Do you know where she went?”

The girl was young with dyed black hair and black clothes. Her eyebrow was pierced and she had a lit cigar in one hand.

“What’s it to you?” she asked.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Blane lied. “Wanted to come by, surprise her.” His smile turned slightly sheepish. “I thought she’d be home tonight.”

The girl still looked suspicious, but said, “She left hours ago. I thought she was going to work or something, the way she was dressed.”

Of course. Her bartending thing. “Thanks,” he said before heading back down to his car.

Sure enough, her car was at The Drop. Blane checked his watch. On a weeknight, they’d be closing soon. He briefly considered going inside, but then decided against it.

At closing, a few of the workers left, but Kathleen wasn’t among them. Blane waited a bit longer, then got out of the car, leaning against the side as he waited for her. If he knew her like he thought he did, he’d lay odds she’d been the one who’d offered to stay behind, clean, and lock up.

Blane’s patience was rewarded when the door opened once again to reveal Kathleen. She didn’t even see him, preoccupied as she was with holding a sack and her purse while trying to lock the door.

The sight of her, alive and unharmed, eased a tightness inside Blane’s chest that he hadn’t even been aware was there. That surprised him. Yes, he was attracted to her and yes, he wanted to seduce her. But he hadn’t realized that keeping her safe had somehow become personal in the last forty-eight hours.

Distracted by these thoughts, Blane didn’t immediately say anything to alert her to his presence. Something he regretted when she turned around and he saw a flash of fear in her eyes before she saw just who was standing in the shadows, watching her.

“If you could stop scaring me half to death when you show up, I’d appreciate it,” she snapped at him.

Her obvious pique was adorable. “Did you get my flowers?” Blane asked.

Blane thought he saw guilt in her eyes as she said, “I did, thank you. They were beautiful.”

Yeah, she sounded real thankful. She was as prickly as a kitty cat, pretending aloofness while taking in every move he made. Even now she took a small step away from him, which was like waving a red flag at a bull. Or perhaps more like a tiger, the way the instinct to pursue her grew.

Blane’s lips twitched as he thought of what she’d say to that analogy. “Is it just killing you to thank me?” he teased, just to watch her get her back up, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“Of course not,” she denied in a huff. “I just don’t know why you sent them, that’s all.”

She didn’t know? Hadn’t figured it out yet? Yes, he was indeed too rusty at this if his wanting her wasn’t blatantly obvious by now.

Blane pushed away from the car and stalked her as he’d wanted to. She took another step back, running into the wall at her back. The predatory feelings inside seemed directly linked to his arousal, which notched upward with each step he took. When he stopped, he was directly in front of her, their bodies nearly touching.

“How was your date?” Blane asked, reaching out to snag the long braid she wore. He had a burning desire to see her hair long and loose again and didn’t think twice about slipping off the band holding the strands together.

Kathleen was breathing faster, he noticed, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. It took a moment before she responded. “Fine, it was fine,” she said.

“Sounds thrilling,” Blane replied, immediately dismissing James as a rival. Her hair was slowly unbraiding under his hand. The light from the street lamp made the long tresses shine as they slid like silk between Blane’s fingers. He imagined how that hair would look spread upon a pillow with him above her. . .

“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.

“Touching you,” he said, pitching his voice even lower. If she only knew the thoughts going through his mind right now on exactly where he’d like to touch her, she would blush an even deeper rose.

“Stop,” Kathleen said, but the tone of her voice said something else entirely.

“Do you want me to stop?” Blane asked. His fingers combed up from her neck to the base of her scalp before sliding again through her hair. Her eyes fluttered closed at the touch, as though his petting would make her purr. Blane’s hand moved to her hip, its curve fitting perfectly in the palm of his hand.

The electricity between them had Blane’s every sense on high alert. He could smell the scent of her perfume, the fragrance of her hair as he combed through it. He heard the small sounds of her breath, quick little pants that went straight to his cock.

Her eyes opened and focused on his. “Did you find out anything with those numbers on Sheila’s phone?”

Blane froze.

“I know you’re the one who took it,” she continued. “Which was really low of you, you know?”

Fuck. Well, it looked like he’d been right about her tenacity, damn it. “How do you now I took it?”

“I don’t. I mean, you could’ve . . . but maybe not,” she stammered. “I guess anyone could’ve broken in and taken it. Hey, what do I know?” Kathleen seemed to realize she was just babbling now so she stopped, her lips pressing tightly closed.

Blane thought fast. Should he tell her? He couldn’t tell her all of it, that would only put her in danger. But she was clever, she’d figured out he took the phone. Usually, he’d just lie, but for some reason he was reluctant to do that to her.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I did take the phone.”

Blane assumed she’d be relieved to know a stranger hadn’t been in her apartment, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. She swallowed hard, her eyes glancing nervously past him to the empty street. When his fingers unconsciously combed through her hair again, she jerked back, a tremor running through her small form. Blane abruptly realized she was afraid.

Of him.

His hand cupped the base of her skull, forcing her to look at him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I took that phone because I’m trying to protect you.” She still looked skeptical. “The people who killed your neighbor, they wouldn’t think twice about doing the same thing to you.” But first, they’d have to get through him.

“You know who killed Sheila?” she asked.

Of course she’d leap on the one thing he didn’t want her to focus on.

“Stay out of it, Kathleen,” Blane said firmly. “Or you’ll end up the same way.”

“Is that a threat?” she retorted, fire in her eyes.

Blane closed his hand, pulling her hair and forcing her head back. She made a little gasp that sent Blane’s pulse into overdrive. Snagging her around the waist, he gave in to temptation and pulled her fully against him, lifting her feet off the ground. She dropped the bag she’d been carrying, her hands coming up to try and push him away, but it was a futile effort.

“You’re like a cornered kitten, Kathleen,” Blane said, his eyes intent on hers. “Still hissing and pretending you can fight your way out. I’m trying to protect you. Let me.”

She stopped fighting, her brow knitting in confusion as she stared at him. The blue of her eyes was as deep as a midnight sky.

“But . . . why?”

Why indeed
, Blane thought. How to explain that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop fantasizing about her?

Her body felt right against his, the curve of her hips, dip of her waist, swell of her breasts, all of her so very feminine and fragile. Blane touched his lips to her jaw, gratified at the choked breath she took. He tugged her hair again, forcing her head further back so he could trail his mouth down her throat, the scent of her more potent at her neck. Blane breathed it in like the aphrodisiac it was.

“I don’t know,” he murmured against her skin. She shivered in his arms and this time it wasn’t from fear. “I can’t seem to stay away.”

The taste of her was like a fine wine, her skin satin against his tongue. Blane buried his head against her neck, licking and kissing the tender skin. She was making those panting noises again, causing his dick to go hard as a rock. Her body melted against his, her little arms sliding around his neck. Her nails scraped lightly against his scalp, a gentle pain that caused Blane to briefly wonder who was seducing whom. He fastened his mouth to her neck and sucked.

“Ma’am, are you all right?”

The voice made Blane react on pure instinct, releasing Kathleen and pulling her behind him, putting himself between her and the unknown threat behind them.

But it was just a cop.

“Ma’am, do you need some help?” he asked again, giving Blane a jaundiced glare.

Kathleen stepped out from behind Blane. “I’m fine,” she said to the officer. “Just heading home for the night.”

She glanced at Blane, who was too busy trying to reign in the desire to tell the cop to fuck off so he could toss Kathleen in his car, drive her home and talk his way into her bed. From her responses to him so far, he didn’t think it would take much talking.

“I’ll see you later, Blane,” she said before heading to her car. She gave him one last glance before driving away.

“Better luck next time, buddy,” the cop chortled before turning away and ambling down the street.

Asshole.