Chapter 1
Where Was My Shield Now?
"Marie, there's a cop here to see you."
My head connected with the underside of my desk in a loud thunk.
Fuck! I gritted my teeth and rubbed the lump I was so sure would be forming, then dropped the tangle of electrical cords I'd been holding and backed out on my knees to reach up for the intercom button on my desk.
My hand shook. I purposely ignored the movement.
"Just give me a few minutes, Suze, then show them in," I instructed from my still kneeling position on the floor. There was a crackle in reply, followed first by static, then a loud piercing beep.
"Friggin' wires," I muttered, crawling back under the desk and coughing through the dust motes that my adventures were dislodging.
Whoever had set up the computer, phone and intercom systems in my office was surely a sadistic bastard. The tangle that met my fingers was better than any sailor's knot. I started laboriously threading one dust encrusted cable out after another. My back started to complain from the angle I was at, but I was determined to get at least one thing sorted today.
And I needed a moment to settle my nerves.
A cop. To see me. Definitely not words I wanted to hear.
I concentrated on the task in front of me and not the fear that threatened to choke my throat closed. There could be any number of reasons why a cop was here to see me. It didn't necessarily mean anything bad. It could just be a uniformed cop, hence Suzy mentioning his vocation, looking for an accountant to file his tax return.
I growled at a particularly gnarly twisted and tangled bunch of wires, knowing my anger was being fuelled by more than just ridiculously poor electronic safety measures at Whitcomb & Associates Ltd.
"Fuck it all to hell!" I muttered, yanking on a particularly stubborn black cord and hearing the computer monitor skid ominously and eagerly across the desk above my head. I glanced up, expecting to see the base of the monitor hanging precariously over the edge of the desk, but when nothing looked like it was about to whack me on the noggin, I breathed out a sigh of relief.
That was quickly inhaled as a throat was cleared behind me, announcing someone was in the room.
I froze, realising I must have looked a sight. Bum in the air, head under the desk, dust bunnies collecting on my - oh dear God - tight knee length skirt.
I have for too long now been the type of person who shuns fear. I've lived fear. I've almost drowned in it. I will never succumb to it again. Harsh lessons have made me shield my emotions from all but one person in my life. I wasn't about to start showing discomfort of any sort now.
My shield rose to the fore. Confidence. An emotionally detached person's best friend.
"I'll be right out," I announced in my signature assured voice.
"Don't mind me," a male voice said, hints of amusement in the gruff, deep words. "Please, take all the time you need."
An incongruous smile curved the corners of my lips. It took more effort than it should have to banish the reaction to my visitor's obvious delight at my current position. I wanted to glance over my shoulder and see what the man looked like attached to that sexy and sinful voice. I knew it had to be the cop. Either Suzy didn't hear my answer over the intercom, or knowing her idea of a joke, she ignored it.
I forced myself to focus on the knot of cords in my hand. It was going to be an impossibility to sort this out in a minute or two. This would probably take a normal person the better part of the morning to straighten and reconnect each plug, each lengthy cable, into some semblance of order. But two excellent reasons made me straighten my back and refuse to bow to convention by crawling out and facing the owner of that sexy voice. One, I needed more time to prepare for what was ahead. And two, I'm an obsessively clean and organised person. Dropping the tangle of wires now would set my teeth on edge. Not the best emotional state to face off against what could be the end of my world as I knew it.
"Do you need a hand?" the voice asked pleasantly. He still sounded like he was over by the door, hadn't approached at all.
Maybe the view was better over there?
"No, I've got it. Just take a seat and I'll be right out," I advised, yanking on stubborn cables and beginning to sweat.
I don't sweat. I don't show reactions. But I was doing both of those things this morning and I hadn't even faced the cop yet.
Why was he here? A cable came free and slammed into the side of the desk with the momentum of my tug. It could be something routine. A second cable released its hold on the tangle, bouncing off my thigh and ricocheting against my chest. I made a disgruntled sound. It's probably nothing. More than five years have passed since then. Cable three slipped free of its prison and rewarded me with a thwack against my elbow, right on the bone. I gritted my teeth. If he hasn't followed through with his threats by now, he never will. We were safe. I'd been sure of it. Number four refused to budge, but with shaking fingers, which were quickly becoming numb from the strain, I pried the bastard free. So, the cop was here for something else. Something mundane. Nothing to do with my former life. The last few cables untangled all at once, as though they finally realised the futility of fighting back.