Set Up For Love (25 page)

“No internal injuries. But the hell she’s been through has left her shaky.” Jill twisted the telephone cord around her index finger and pulled it tight until the finger turned blue. “Now, about—”

“Is there anything she needs?”

Heat rose in Jill’s cheeks—she shouldn’t let him get away with cutting her off like that. “Tess’ young, and with therapy she’ll get over the ordeal. She stayed the night here. What there was left of it.”

“Look, Jill, I want to thank you for setting things right with the cops. That SWAT leader was determined to let me cool my heels in jail all night.”

Jill expected him to laugh. He didn’t. The rough night must have worn down his sense of humor. The sudden silence made her rethink her attitude toward him. After all, he had saved her life. “You rescued Tess...me. Thanks for that.”

“All in a day’s work.”

Her resentment rose to the surface again. “But it’s not
your
work.” Her mind spun in turmoil. She and Tess would be dead without him. How could she be mad at such a hero? But she was. His story had made trouble for her. This wasn’t the first time he’d stepped over the boundaries, and she feared if she continued with him, it wouldn’t be the last. Why did he always have to slam the Bureau? “You shouldn’t have...that is...” She pressed her temple. “Dammit, Dane, I had to take some serious flack from my chief because of you.” She tucked her hair behind her ear with unneeded force. “It can’t ever happen again.”

“Dane?”
He’d hung up on her.
She slammed down the receiver, then changed her mind and took the phone off the hook. Her beeper could catch the important calls. She couldn’t bear to even hear his deep throaty voice on her recorder. It was better this way—no regretful goodbyes, just a clean break. That’s what the Bureau wanted. What she wanted. She’d accomplished her goals: the killer was behind bars and Tess and all the other endangered models out there were safe. Working with Dane had just been part of the process, nothing more. And she was the worst kind of liar, she thought, the kind who lied to herself.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Dane left
The Chronicle
early, heading for his apartment. But his mind was so filled with Jill that he ended at her front door. He rang the bell. She didn’t answer. He knocked, then pounded. “Come on, Jill. I know you’re in there.” He patted his pocket.
Where was the blasted pack of cigarettes?
Then remembered he no longer smoked. His scowl deepened.

He pounded harder. He didn’t need this.

Finally, Jill opened the door. Her blue eyes sparked fire. “What do you want?”

Her fresh fragrance wafted around him. His heart thudded against his chest.
You,
he thought.

She looked like a well-developed teenager in the pink midriff top and shorts that revealed a smooth plane of thigh. He remembered the feel of those long legs wrapped around him in their moments of passion. He swallowed and forced himself to look above her shoulders. Her hair was piled on top of her head in damp ringlets.

In that defiant way of hers, Jill lifted her chin and glared at him. He wanted to draw her into his arms and kiss that fiery anger into passion. Her miss-nothing scrutiny stopped him. Suddenly, he wished he’d showered and shaved.

“Look, I’m tired. But I won’t sleep until we clear the air.”

“Consider it cleared.”

Her tone told him it was far from clear. He swore to himself. “Angelo wasn’t in this alone, you know. He had a whole operation going. You may still be in danger.”

Dane edged closer.

Jill rigidly blocked the doorway. “Don’t concern yourself, Mr. Big Time Reporter. You got all the story you’re going to get from me.”

Why couldn’t she yield and move aside?

Dane counted to ten. “You know this isn’t about any story. It’s about us.”

“There isn’t any us.” She lowered her eyes.

He hoped that was a lie and she’d only barred him from entry solely because she didn’t trust herself to keep him at a distance.

****

Jill crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s your point?”

Dane’s attack-mode made it easier for her to close her heart and send him away. She should thank him for that.

“Angelo was on the edge of several FBI investigations and was discarded as a suspect.” Dane paused, as though to allow time for his words to sink in. “Big mistake. And it could happen again. You don’t know who else might be mixed up in this.”

An irrational foreboding sent shivers down her spine.

“It’s covered, Dane. Bruce and his team are rounding up Angelo’s buyers and distributors as we speak. The Snuff Video operation and crew are through. We found records in his apartment.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that—he’d managed to extract information from her far too easily. Ray was right, she had to get him out of her life. She shifted her weight and started to ease the door closed.

Dane jammed his foot against it. “Just watch your back, Jill.”

She was afraid he’d force his way into the house. If he so much as touched her, her phony tough facade would dissolve into a trembling need. She managed a professional tone. “Angelo will go from the hospital prison ward straight to jail, and everyone that worked with him will be there waiting. All of them.”

“A losing battle. Admit it, our country is a breeding place for crazies like Angelo. And if you continue this work, some day one of them will kill you.”

Jill lifted her chin. “You could have been killed. Are you going to quit your job?”

Dane frowned. “That’s been our problem from the start. We’re both in risky professions. But walking away from each other won’t change that.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You’re not going to ask me in, are you?”

She shook her head; one of her damp curls loosened and fell onto her forehead. Dane reached out and twisted the curl around his finger and brushed it from her face with the gentlest touch she’d ever felt.

He lowered his voice. “Afraid?”

Jill sucked in her breath. She had to remember that reporters and FBI agents were like oil and water. “Don’t flatter yourself, Dane.”

“So, no fear, right?” He held her gaze. “Prove it. Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“To celebrate. After all we both got what we wanted, the serial killer behind bars and Tess alive.” He grinned. “I promise not to press you for the details on what happened to the others during the round-up. At least not very aggressively.” Dane clutched her hand and the warmth traveled all the way up her arm. “I dare you.” His voice came from some deep, velvet place in his throat.

Her heart raced. “You scooped every other paper with your story. Reward enough, I’d say.” Could he guess that her hard, cold tone was the opposite of the soft, warm feelings that coursed through her veins?

He pressed his lips together for a moment, then grinned. “Not enough for me. I believe I deserve a celebration for coming up with the clue that located Tess, right?”

Jill sighed. How could she argue with that? Fear had caused her to handle this all wrong. The least she could do was cook him a meal and crack a bottle of champagne before they went their separate ways. Saying goodbye at the door like this was safer, but it wasn’t what she really wanted.

She squared her shoulders and stood taller. She could get through one meal without making a fool of herself. “I have to go to the Bureau for a few hours and tie up loose ends, but I plan to get home early. I’ll whip up something here. Say, seven?”

“I’d planned to take you out to some sensational place, but here is even better. I’ll bring the champagne and dessert.”

Jill swallowed. She’d just made a very big mistake. A public place would have been safer for her heart.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Dane embraced Jill, enjoying her softness. He felt no urgency to press for more. She leaned forward and with a trembling hand, picked up her coffee cup and held the fragile china like a shield.

She took forever to finish the coffee. At last, he removed the empty cup from her. What she needed was something to help her relax.

Not exactly drunk
, he thought. “Just relaxed. Mind if I get comfortable?”

Jill shook her head, a half-smile on her lips.

Tony Bennett’s husky tones, “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” came from the stereo. Dane felt Jill’s eyes on him as he shrugged out of his jacket. Her attention brought out a zany side to his character that he thought was buried. He did a couple of slow strip steps in time with the music, then a bump, a spin, and in a flourish, he laid his jacket over the back of a chair.

Dane unfastened the top button of his shirt...then another. Jill’s eyes widened.
I’m good for her
, he thought. This was what they both needed—a few laughs to break up the tension that had ruled their lives for days. He rolled up his sleeves a cuff-width at a time, halfway to his elbow. He spun around, wiggled his fanny once, then faced her again, pretending he was going to unbuckle his belt.

****

Jill felt Dane’s fingers inflaming her skin as he began to slowly stroke her neck. “Jill?” he asked, softly.

She looked into his dark, questioning eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her vow to keep the night nonphysical had been wise, but her determination to keep the promise had disappeared with the smoke curling up the chimney.

It was she who had pulled back before dinner, confusing him, confusing herself. She could fight the volatile chemistry, but not the love she felt for him. Suddenly, Jill didn’t want to rationalize her actions or paint them right. She just had to be with him one more time before they went their separate ways.

She wanted this night to last a lifetime. It seemed incomprehensible that she’d gone so long without Dane in her life. If nothing else came out of this mess, at least she had him for a little while. But she knew that just one more night wouldn’t be enough, not when she loved him so much.

“I want—”

Her words were stolen by Dane’s mouth closing over hers in a slow, deep possession.

He rose, taking her with him. She fit her body tightly into his and met his kisses with her own, just as hungry, just as fierce. Through her dress, his body heat mingled with her own fevered skin. She waited in anticipation for his next move. But there were only more kisses and thrilling, warm sensations stirring her, driving her crazy with desire. If this was a payback for her earlier reluctance, he should be ashamed. It was cruel to make her wait. Just when she was ready to admit she wasn’t above begging, he slipped down her zipper and her dress rustled to the floor. Slowly, he removed her bra and caressed her breast, kissing it, flicking his rough tongue over her hardened nipple.