Dash of Peril

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AFTERNOON SUNSHINE HAD melted away all the snow, leaving behind a mild springlike day. After running several errands, it was almost dinnertime before Dash returned to the station. He’d called over an hour ago to see if Margo was done yet, but she’d needed more time.

Not a problem for him.

He wanted her to know that a relationship with him wouldn’t get in her way.

But he also wanted to be a priority for her—because she was a priority for him. Now more than ever.

Knowing someone wanted to hurt her sent a rush of determination clawing through him. Somehow, someway, he would be near her, offering protection.

The fact that she could protect herself didn’t matter, not to his emotions, not to his instincts. He was a man and, cop or no, she was still a woman. In the most basic way known to nature, he wanted to protect her.

The easiest way to help her figure out the balance of life and work was to show her that he considered her work as important as she did, and intimacy with him beat indiscriminate sex any day. It heightened every sensation, making it better, hotter, more consuming than a random encounter with a stranger.

The argument was a reversal for Dash. Other than sexual relief, he hadn’t wanted anything from a woman in a very long time. But women, in his experience, wanted sex to mean something. They thought of it as a show of affection and caring, a prelude to love.

Not Margo.

Nope, she just used it as a carnal tension reliever from a very emotionally stressful job.

As Dash parked out front of the station, he saw Margo, Logan and Reese speaking together. Margo spotted him, too, and waved him over.

Interesting. Why weren’t they in the building?

Leaving his purchases behind on the seat, he exited the truck. Even from the distance separating him from her, he saw the anger on Margo’s face. She stood there without her coat—not that she’d need it with the sun shining down and the temps hitting the low sixties.

In several long strides Dash reached them, just in time to hear Margo give Reese an order.

“Get hold of the rest of your guys. I want them watched at the hospital, at home and at the shop.”

“Already took care of it.”

She paced, rubbing her injured arm, though Dash doubted she realized it. “I need this kept quiet. We’re not taking any chances.”

“My guys can be trusted.” Reese took a few steps away, still on the cell.

“Reese has guys?” Dash asked.

She looked up at him in a distracted way. “Men he trusts. Officers who have proven themselves loyal to him, and therefore loyal to the letter of the law.”

With a shrug, Logan said, “The crew was necessary before Margo took over.”

She did some more pacing. “They still come in handy when I want to make sure details are kept as private as possible.”

“And you have something you want kept private?”

“Everything.” She gave him a meaningful frown. “I don’t like taking chances.” All business, she added, “And speaking of chances, you need to park your truck somewhere safe. Away from where you live.”

She seemed so urgent, he agreed without question. “All right.”

“I mean it, Dash, you...” She frowned, finally realizing that he hadn’t questioned her. “Do you have good security?”

“On my house? My brother is a cop, so yeah, the place is kept secure.” He looked at Logan, hoping for a few answers.

As if to work off anger, his brother flexed his shoulders. “We checked out the pawnshop. The owner and his granddaughter were there when they shot the video.”

Oh, shit. “What do you mean they were there?” Dash watched Margo rub her shoulder, then her wrist, above and below the splint. “I thought Cannon stopped in and they—”

“Three men with a drugged woman in tow broke in and used the place. To control the owner they doused him and his granddaughter in kerosene, then the head guy threatened them with a lighter the whole time they were there.”

Reese disconnected his call and rejoined them. “I think the sick fuck enjoyed tormenting them. From what they said, he took as much pleasure in terrifying them as he did in videotaping the rape.”

“Damn,” Dash whispered. And these were the same people who wanted Margo? He wanted to haul her close and somehow insulate her from it all—but her job kept her at the forefront.

“A couple of Reese’s guys are with Mr. Sweeny at the hospital. I’m guessing he has a few broken ribs at the very least.” Logan stepped closer to Dash. “Cannon knows the granddaughter so he stayed with her at the hospital. She’s pretty shook up.”

“Margo?” Because he needed to touch her, Dash put a hand on the back of her neck. “What now?”

“They threatened that girl, told her they would use her next in a video if she talked to the police.”

Dash searched her face...and saw iron resolve. “That’s not going to happen.”

“No, it’s not. We won’t let it.” Wearily, Margo leaned into his side.

Dash put his arm around her.

Logan stared.

Reese raised his eyebrows.

Dash was about to call them on their idiotic behavior, but Margo beat him to it.

“Put your eyeballs back in your heads, boys. I know it strains your boundaries of belief, but I enjoy a little human contact every now and then, same as anyone else.”

“Yeah, no, I wasn’t...” Logan transferred his bemused gaze to Dash.

Reese coughed...and clapped Margo on the shoulder, just like she was one of the guys. “Glad for you.”

She staggered into Dash, but laughed. “It doesn’t require applause, detective, so stow it.”

To Reese and Logan, Dash said, “You’re both idiots.”

Still leaning on him, Margo smiled at Logan. “He said it, not me.” Then she got serious again. “We can pick up the rental on our way home—”

Logan and Reese did more asinine staring at that disclosure.

“—and then you can stow the truck somewhere safe.”

“There’s only one problem with that. I can’t drive my truck and the rental, and you’re out of commission until the splint comes off.”

Logan checked his watch. “Leave your keys with Reese. He can store it and I’ll drive you both to get the rental.”

“You have time for that?” Dash asked.

“Sure.” His eyes narrowed. “That way I can be positive no one follows you.”

Disconcerted, Dash looked around the area. “You think we’re being watched?”

Margo nodded. “I feel it, too.” She took Dash’s hand. “But stop being so obvious, okay?”

Her show of affection surprised him enough that he looked at her instead of checking for signs of surveillance. He curled his larger hand around hers, holding her securely. “Sorry about that.”

Logan pretended not to see. “If Margo was driving she could lose a tail easy enough, but—”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed with a grin. “I haven’t exactly had a lot of practice at that.”

“You’d do okay,” Logan assured him, ever the loyal brother. “But I’ll feel better if I drive.”

Done discussing it, Margo started to walk away. “I’m ready if you are.”

Since she didn’t even try to let him go, Dash went along with her as she took the few steps to a nearby brick retaining wall to pick up her purse and coat. Taking advantage of the moment of dubious privacy, Dash asked, “Have you taken any aspirin lately?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” He took her items from her and hauled her along with him to his truck, where he fished aspirin from his glove compartment and handed them to her with a half-empty bottle of water.

For only a moment she looked defiant, then grateful. “Was I that obvious?”

“Only to me because I’m paying very close attention.”

A smile flickered over her lips before she tossed back the aspirin and washed them down. Nodding to the bags on the passenger seat, Margo asked, “What’s all that?”

“Groceries, dinner, the clothes and stuff I grabbed.” He hauled the bags out, holding them all in one hand.

The amount of clothes he’d packed in his overnight bag—enough for a week—seemed to throw her, but all she said was, “Dinner?”

“I figured I’d cook tonight. Fried chicken.” Your favorite.

That left her momentarily mute. “You cook?”

Didn’t everyone? Dash said only, “I’m a man of many talents.”

“And you want to cook tonight?”

He smiled, knowing she’d had other plans—plans to thwart his determination to wait until she had the splint removed. But he had a surprise on that score, too.

Bending to her ear, he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about that, about the care we need to take with your arm.”

“My arm is fi—”

“About making you scream with a killer O. And you know, I just might have come up with an idea that’ll work.”

Eyes darkening and cheeks flushing, Margo went perfectly still. Even the comically interested stares from Logan and Reese didn’t reach her.

“I can make you crazy with pleasure, but you have to trust me. You have to let me lead. And you—” his lips touched her ear “—will follow my directions...no matter what they are.”

Her breath shuddered in; she let it out in a soft groan. “Okay.”

Knowing he had her, Dash’s smile warmed even more. “Come on then. Let’s get the damned rental car so I can get you home alone and start on this very long, slow process.”

“Long and slow?”

“Agonizingly long. Excruciatingly slow.” He glanced at her breasts and saw that her nipples were stiffened points against her blouse. “Foreplay that I guarantee you’re going to enjoy.”

She shivered and Dash put his arm around. But she didn’t move.

“Margo? Logan and Reese are watching. One foot in the front of the other, honey.” He urged her forward and she finally got with it.

“How you can distract me like this when usually my brain would be eaten up with work—”

“You won’t slide on work. You’re better than that. But this way you can tackle it with a clear head.” He kissed her temple. “You’re every bit as primed as I am, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am now.” But then she let out a long sigh and admitted, “Yes, I was plenty twitchy before your little tease, too. God’s truth, Dash, you plague me.”

Logan and Reese pretended to be busy, but they didn’t fool anyone.

With her coat folded over an arm, Margo hid herself as she approached them. “The second either of you hears anything, I want to be told.”

Reese took the keys that Dash offered him. “They’re releasing Mr. Sweeny from the hospital tonight, so I’m going to run by there myself before I head home for the day, just to make sure everything is set. I’ll let you know how he and the girl are doing.”

Still worried, Margo thanked him.

“After I drop you two off I’m going to meet up with Cannon at the sports center to talk with the boys just in case I can find out anything else.”

“Pepper allows you to be out late?”

Logan started to reply, realized Dash had baited him, and instead glanced at the fading sun. “She understands the responsibilities of my job.”

“Yeah, Pepper is great.” But he enjoyed taking part in the running joke. Pepper could be noticeably demanding when it suited her, and despite all earlier indications, she was a true mother hen when it came to worrying about the people she loved.

Margo seated herself in the back of Logan’s car. “Cannon might not be comfortable leaving Tipton and Yvette. I got the feeling he’s taking responsibility for them both.”

“For the entire neighborhood,” Dash said. “At least that’s how it seemed to me.”

Rather than get in the front seat as Margo had probably expected, Dash squeezed into the back beside her, forcing her to scoot over, and then he put an arm around her before she could move all the way to the other side.

Smiling at her disgruntled expression, he helped to fasten her seat belt.

“We talked about that.” Logan got behind the wheel, denying her the opportunity to switch things around. “I convinced him they’d be safer once we found the guys responsible, so for now, he’s willing to trust Reese to help see to their protection.”

“We’ll definitely get them,” Margo decreed. “Sooner would be better than later.”

“We’re on it.” Logan started the car. “But until then, watch your ass.”

“My words to you, Detective.” Margo got comfortable against Dash. “But yes, we’ll be careful.” She glanced up at Dash. “Both of us.”

PULLING HIS STOCKING cap a little lower, Curtis ordered, “Follow them.”

Toby, who’d also worn a hat and kept his back to the scene, glanced over his shoulder. Two vehicles headed in two different directions. Without looking at Curtis, he asked, “Which one?”

“The car.” Curtis took off his glasses and polished them on a sleeve. “I want to know where they go, what they do—I want to know where she lives, if she’s alone or if he stays with her. I want to know...everything.”

In that inscrutable way of his, Toby said, “No problem,” and in two long strides he reached his big muscle truck. He’d catch them at the next light and because he was good, Saul knew he wouldn’t lose them.

Curtis held back, looking at the police station, at the truck the big cop drove, and then at Saul.

Feeling like an anxious puppy hoping for affection, Saul waited. Ever since the cluster-fuck where the cop had gotten away, Curtis had been more glacial than usual—which was saying something given Curtis’s aloof manner. Saul was used to him being that way to others. And to some extent he froze Saul out, too.

But never like this.

Taking in Saul’s ball cap, his aviator sunglasses, Curtis smiled.

And Jesus, that scared Saul more than anything else. He’d been told to disguise himself and so he had. He’d left the morning whiskers on his face, dressed down in an old corduroy jacket and worn jeans. Should he have worn a fake mustache, too?

Very uncertain of his brother’s mood, he asked, “Everything okay, Curtis?”

“It will be.” He approached Saul, his expression indulgent in that big-brotherly way. He cupped his face. “No more fuckups, Saul.”

His thighs actually felt shaky. “No—no, there won’t be. I swear.”

“You like spending my money, don’t you, Saul? You enjoy the house I supply, the clothes. The playtimes?”

“Yes.” It was thanks to Curtis that Saul never had to work a legitimate job. Curtis was a genius at making money, and even better at entertaining.

“Very soon,” Curtis continued, as if Saul hadn’t spoken, “you’ll get the opportunity to right your wrongs, to make up for the extra trouble you’ve caused me.” His fingers tightened, squeezing into Saul’s face, deliberately painful. “You will not disappoint me again.”

As Curtis walked away, Saul stood there, working his jaw, awed by his brother’s strength...and hating him just a little for it.

MARGO COULDN’T BELIEVE how affected she was by the promise of getting alone with Dash. Never had she experienced such a level of anticipation. And here she’d thought he might not be exciting enough.

She’d missed the mark on that one by a mile.

Dash’s muscular thigh pressed against hers and his long arm kept her close. Logan continued to talk, probably just to make conversation, but Margo didn’t bother trying to follow along. When necessary, Dash replied.

He also kept his fingers teasing her arm. The sunny day had warmed his skin, amplifying his scent, making her blood surge. She wanted to put her nose in his neck, but not with Logan continually glancing in the rearview mirror.

Hopefully on the outside she looked impassive because on the inside an inferno of sensation and need burned. She kept thinking about Dash naked, running her hands over all that solid muscle, rough hair, warm flesh.... She could almost feel the wet heat of his kiss, his hard fingers on her, in her....

She closed her eyes, but that only made her picture him over her, his biceps bulging, his hair-roughened thighs spreading her more slender legs as he slid deep.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, she tried to compose herself—and instead drew the attention of both men.

Gaze dark and knowing, Dash watched her.

Logan asked, “You okay?”

Get it together, Margaret. “I’m sorry. I... It’s not easy for me to...” The stammering didn’t help. She straightened away from Dash. “No offense to you or Reese, but I’d rather be handling things myself.”

“I know.” Sympathetic, Logan said, “I’d feel the same, so I get it. But don’t worry about it. You’ll be plenty involved.”

“I’d better be.”

“And,” Logan said, ignoring her tone, “that’s why I’m telling you that we’re being followed.”

She frowned, then grabbed Dash’s thigh when he started to look out the rear window. “Don’t.” Leaning forward, she asked Logan, “You’re sure?”

“Whoever he is, he’s good, staying just far enough back that it’s not obvious. But yeah, he’s been on us almost since we left the station.”

No longer distracted by Dash, Margo’s blood surged for a whole different reason. “Can you lose him?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She considered things. “If Dash wasn’t staying with me, I wouldn’t mind laying a trap for the bastard. But—”

Dash spoke over her, saying, “Fuck that. Don’t change things because of me.”

At least he hadn’t objected to the trap part. In so many ways, Dash proved that he trusted her ability, her instincts and her position.

Oh, he was still a guy with a guy’s instinct to protect the little lady. But he didn’t downplay her own skill.

“No,” she said, thinking it through. “It’s never a good idea to leave a trail to your home. If we knew he was the only one involved—”

“But we know he isn’t,” Dash interjected. “There are at least three.”

“And maybe more,” Logan said. “So if I can make a suggestion...”

“Let’s hear it.” Margo leaned forward to look through the side-view mirror but she didn’t see anyone suspicious.

“How about I draw him out?” Already making the decision, Logan turned away from their destination. “I can lead him on a winding chase until he’s forced to get closer. At the very least we can maybe pick up the plates.”

Appearing fascinated by it all, Dash asked, “Do you think they might match the plates from the van?”

“Doubtful. We’d have to be dealing with morons. Plus it’s a truck following us, not a van.” Margo opened her seat belt and moved into the window seat—away from Dash. Her Glock had a fully loaded clip and she had another weapon in her purse. It bothered her that Dash was along for the ride, and it bothered her more that she cared.

Making up her mind, she met Logan’s gaze in the rearview mirror and gave a nod. “Let’s do it.”