Bulletproof Hearts

“There are always exceptions to a rule.”

“Not this one,” she said firmly, digging in to her omelet.

He knew she was right. In fact, he’d come to the same conclusion himself—and had promptly forgotten his own resolution the minute she’d sat down across from him.

“Besides,” she said, “I find your sudden interest more than a little suspicious when you’ve made no secret of the fact that you don’t approve of my being hired to fill the vacancy in the D.A.’s office.”

“It doesn’t matter if I approve or disapprove, and I distinctly remember telling you that I was reserving judgment.”

“You were quick enough to pass judgment when you found me in Merrick’s apartment.”

“And I’m not going to apologize for that,” he told her. “You shouldn’t have been there. However valid your reasons for agreeing to meet with him, you should never have ventured into that neighborhood on your own without telling anyone where you were going.”

“I called you,” she admitted.

That surprised him. “You did?”

She bit into a piece of toast. Frowned. “It’s buttered.”

“I’m sure your arteries will survive.” He slathered jam onto his own bread. “When did you call me?”

“Before I left to meet with Merrick. I left a message on your voice mail.”

“Oh.” He usually left his cell phone in the car when he was home. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

She smiled wryly, drawing his attention to the fullness of her soft pink lips. Kissable lips, he thought again. And glistening now with traces of butter. He tore his gaze away, gulped down a mouthful of bitter coffee.

“I tried,” she said. “You weren’t listening. You just steamrolled past without giving me a chance to explain.”

Well, he was paying complete attention to her now, and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the feelings she stirred inside him. Feelings he hadn’t been aware of since Beth’s death. Feelings he hadn’t thought he’d ever experience again. Not with another woman. Grief, guilt and regrets assailed him, not just because of Beth and everything they’d lost, but because he’d treated Natalie unfairly. He hadn’t expected the instantaneous attraction, and he’d immediately taken an adversarial stance with her to avoid examining his feelings.

“I guess I should apologize,” he said, although she wouldn’t know he was referring to more than just his behavior at Merrick’s apartment.

She shook her head. “I just want to forget everything that’s happened in the past few hours.”

“That’s not likely. Not once the press starts sniffing around.”

She groaned. “I’ve stepped in it up to my knees, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, but you’re wearing nice shoes.” He’d noticed those immediately. Expensive designer shoes like the ones his sister Hannah favored. With skinny heels that added at least two inches to her height and emphasized her slender ankles and shapely calves. There wasn’t much about Natalie Vaughn he hadn’t noticed.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“In my job, if you don’t learn to find the humor in things, you don’t last very long.”

She pushed her plate aside. “How long have you been a cop?”

“Almost fifteen years.” He dumped salt on the potatoes left on her plate, then scooped up a forkful and brought them to his lips.

“You keep eating like that, you won’t last another fifteen,” she warned him.

He grinned. “It’s nice to know that you’re worried about me.”

“I just hate to think of the loss to the Fairweather P.D. if you die of heart disease.”

“Yeah.” He put his fork down. “Tierney might get my job.”

“I met him yesterday, at the courthouse.” She picked up her coffee cup, sipped.

“Then he stopped by your office this afternoon and invited you to dinner.”

She frowned. “How did you know that?”

“He told me he was going to.”

“Oh.”

“Obviously you turned him down.”

“I’m working sixteen hours a day, just trying to get up to speed on my files.”

“Is that the only reason you declined his invitation?”

“I don’t mix business and pleasure,” she reminded him. “And even if I wanted to, I don’t have time for complications in my life right now.”

Dylan didn’t think Ben wanted anything more complicated than sex from Natalie, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Not when he had to admit his own thoughts had gone down that same road. “Complications are what make life interesting,” he said instead.

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m a little too tired for a philosophical discussion right now.” She pushed her cup aside. “And I should try to catch an hour of sleep before I have to get ready for work.”

He nodded. “I’ll keep you posted on the Merrick investigation.”

“Thanks.” She slid out of the booth. “Do me another favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t tell Detective Tierney I had breakfast with you.”

He grinned. It was a tempting thought. “I think I can restrain myself.”

“Thanks,” she said again.

He watched her walk away, enjoying the subtle sway of her hips in the slim skirt and the flex of finely toned muscles in her calves.

Then he paid the tab and headed out of the diner to return to the scene of the crime.

Chapter 3

Natalie jolted at the quick knock at the door. She’d been jittery all day, unable to banish from her mind the sight of Roger Merrick’s bloodied body. Unable to stop thinking about Lieutenant Creighton’s reminder that she might easily have met the same fate on her nocturnal adventure.