He balled his fists at his side, his round face flushing an unnatural shade of red. “Why don’t you leave well enough alone? You’ve got one place for them, why do you need another?”
She straightened up to her full height, refusing to be intimidated by a man with questionable motives, even if he did wear a badge. “Because some men don’t understand that it’s against the law to hit their wives or girlfriends. Those wives and girlfriends need a place where no one can get to them.”
“Cops can go anywhere they want.”
“Not if they’re stopped.”
He gave her a sickening once-over, then smirked. “And who’s going to stop them? You?”
Erin opened her mouth to respond but was stopped short by a deep, controlled voice. A voice full of hatred. A voice belonging to Zach Miller.
“I will.”
Tension as thick as a winter fog settled over the small office. Neither man moved, as if facing off for a duel.
Zach tightened his grasp on the rolled blueprint he clutched in one hand. “What do you want, Andrews?”
The sour apple look on the detective’s face repulsed Erin. “This is business, Miller. And it’s none of yours.”
Zach took another step forward. “Yeah, well I don’t intend to involve myself in your business. Unless I have to.”
“Good. At least you’ve learned your place.”
“But I doubt you have.”
Erin watched Zach’s features harden as if the last vestiges of his control were slipping away. She couldn’t let that happen, so she moved from behind the desk and said, “Detective Andrews, Mr. Miller is my next appointment, so if you’re through now—” she headed to the door and held it open “—I’ll see you out.”
“Don’t bother,” Andrews retorted. “I can find my way.”
The detective strode past Zach with an acid glare. Erin closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.
Zach stood in the middle of the room with a choke hold on the blueprint as he stared at some focal point above her head.
Erin pushed off the door. “Old friend?”
He finally met her gaze, fury flashing in his dark eyes. “Old acquaintance. Not a friend.”
Zach strolled around the room. Erin didn’t speak, deciding to give him a moment to cool down.
He lifted a slat on the lone window’s dusty miniblind and peered outside into the parking lot. “Why was he here?”
“He’s curious about the new shelter.”
Zach turned away from the window, his anger almost palpable. “How does he know about it?”
“Just because we keep the proposed site’s whereabouts a secret doesn’t mean we can keep its existence from the community. The surrounding police departments know about it. So does Langdon’s police chief. We’ve always had a good rapport. I consider many of the men and women on the force good friends. In fact, almost all of them understand the need. Unfortunately, your acquaintance doesn’t.”
“That sure as hell isn’t surprising.”
Erin wanted to know why and exactly what Zach was hiding. What was his relationship with Andrews? More important, would it affect the new shelter? She walked to her desk and fumbled for a pencil and notebook. “What do you know about the detective?”
“Enough to know the bastard’s trouble.”
“I gather you two have a history.”
Zach tapped the end of the desk with the blueprint. “Yeah, one I’m not willing to go into.”
The intensity of his deep voice warned Erin not to press, even though she dearly wanted to. Eventually she would have to find an opportune time. But not now. Not while he was in such an agitated state. “Are you ready to get to work now?”
“Sure.” He sent her a brief smile. “I left the food at the front desk. Where to?”
“The conference room.”
Zach sat across from Erin at the mile-long table and stared at his food. Today Ron Andrews had ruined his appetite. Three years ago he’d ruined Zach’s career. Every time he came in contact with Andrews, Zach was reminded of another ruthless man who also had been respected in his field. His own father.
As a successful physician, Vernon Miller should have been Zach’s mentor. Instead he’d been his shame. Something Zach would have to live with for the rest of his life. Something that had colored his judgment during a time when he’d needed clear thinking the most. But he hadn’t realized the error of his ways until it had been too late. Until he had failed another woman, just like he’d failed his mother.
“This is great.”
Erin’s comment drew Zach’s attention back to her. He noticed she had no trouble eating. She wrapped her pretty mouth around an egg roll, waking another kind of hunger in his gut, bringing to mind all sorts of possibilities.
At least she served as a nice diversion from the earlier encounter. He wondered what she really thought about the confrontation, and then decided he didn’t want to know. His past was his, and he didn’t want to share it with anyone.
Zach pushed the recollections and food away, then stacked his hands behind his neck and leaned back in the chair. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Umm-hmm,” she said around a bite of Szechwan chicken. “I didn’t have time for lunch.” She sipped from a foam cup of iced tea. “You didn’t eat much.”
“I’m not that hungry.” At least not for food.
He expected her to make some comment about Andrews but instead she said, “I’m all done, so let’s get to work.”
A code of honor among police officers prevented him from revealing too much to her. To anyone. He appreciated the fact she didn’t prod him for information. He appreciated a lot of things about Erin Brailey.
They cleared the red-and-white cartons away so Zach could roll the shelter’s floor plan out onto the table. Erin anchored the blueprint at the corners with her beige briefcase, a spiral notebook and two stacks of Rainbow Center’s trifold pamphlets.
Hands braced wide on the table, she leaned forward to study the plan. Zach stood behind her, the smell of her perfume drifting into his nostrils. The scent was pleasant, erotic. So was the dress she wore—sleeveless, high-necked, soft blue material that clung to every curve. A man-killing outfit. He should know. He was about to die right there on the spot.
After a good internal scolding, he leaned around her and pointed to the plan. “I’ll set up two sensors here in the living room, wires on every window.” He indicated the front door. “Key pad here. You can arm the system from this point, or in the back room where the resident manager stays.”
“What about outside?” she asked.
“Motion lights.” Despite his caution, he moved closer. Now almost flush against her back, his body paid the price. When he gestured at the plan again, their arms brushed, sending a rush of fire through him. If that’s all it took, one simple touch, then he wondered if he’d survive kissing her. Why the hell he was considering that, he couldn’t say. His thoughts had crossed into dangerous territory. Right now kissing her was foremost on his mind. Something to rid him of anger over the confrontation. Something to make him forget. But he needed to step back, proceed with caution.
“If there’s a security breach and the guard needs backup, who will answer the call?” she asked.
“I will.”
She straightened and looked over her shoulder, bringing their bodies into closer proximity and their faces only inches apart. She was so close. Too close for his comfort. He wasn’t giving her much space. He didn’t want to.