New York's Finest Rebel

‘More or less.’ He nodded. ‘And can have your every move reported back to me if I have to. Your point?’

‘How long does it take to adjust?’

‘I was overseas seven months. I’ve been back one.’

‘What happened when you were over there?’

‘We got shot at.’ Lifting his cup to his mouth, he took a drink without breaking eye contact. ‘Avoid the subject all you want, but we both know if I want to find out what you’re hiding I can do it without your co-operation. I’ll start with Liv.’

It was an empty threat. Jo reached for the coffee he had given her. ‘Your sister won’t tell you anything.’

‘Meaning she knows what it is.’

‘Meaning she wouldn’t betray a confidence.’

A corner of his mouth tugged upwards. ‘You know my family. They’ll organize an intervention if they think something is wrong. If you’ve never been on the receiving end of one I can tell you they’re a barrel of laughs. Nothing beats a little quality family time when it’s five against one. And I did say I’d start with Liv …’

‘What makes you think you’re not the only one who doesn’t know?’ she asked.

‘If I am you’ve just made it easier for me.’

The message blood was thicker than water was clear. But she wasn’t so far removed they wouldn’t rally to her aid if she needed help. Jo had known that for years. They were all cut from a cloth threaded with loyalty, honour, integrity and at least a dozen other positive attributes she’d had absolutely no experience of in a family until she met the Brannigans. To Jo, they were everything a family should be. It was part of the reason she’d never understood why Daniel didn’t appreciate them more. But the comment he made about family interventions explained a lot. It was an insight into why he was fighting his demons alone.

She lifted the coffee cup to her lips. ‘When you speak to them you should mention the problems you’re having adjusting to shift patterns. Your brothers might be able to offer some words of advice.’

‘Maybe you should just tell me what’s going on before this starts to get ugly,’ he smirked in reply.

‘We could do this all day.’

‘Next round’s on you. I take mine black.’

She sighed. ‘You’re not going to back down, are you?’

‘Not my thing.’

‘Which brings us back to why you need to know. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you’ve answered that yet.’

When he didn’t reply, she set her coffee down and went back to work, answering some of the comments on her blog while he reached across to the next table and lifted an abandoned newspaper. They sat in silence for a while until Jo could feel a tingle along the back of her neck. Without lifting her chin, she looked up from beneath her fringe to discover him studying her intently. ‘What?’

‘Were the glasses a fashion accessory?’

She focused on the screen again. ‘I get headaches if I work at the computer for too long.’

‘So where are they?’

‘I left them in the apartment.’

‘Other things on your mind …’ he surmised.

‘I can make the print bigger on the screen if you’re so concerned about my eyesight.’

There was another moment of silence, then ‘Just out of curiosity, what look is it you’re aiming for today?’

‘It’s called Gothic chic.’

At least that was what the magazine had called it. Of all the outfits she had worn during the challenge it was the most outlandish. But since she’d awoken with a need to face the world with a little more bravado and it was the kind of outfit that required confidence to carry it off …

‘Might want to remember vampires aren’t supposed to walk in direct sunlight before you step outside,’ he said.

‘Are you going to tell me to avoid holy water, garlic and crosses too?’

He nodded. ‘And teenage cheerleaders with wooden stakes …’

Turning in her chair, Jo stretched her legs and pouted. ‘You don’t like the boots?’ she asked as she looked at him. ‘They’re my favourite part.’

Daniel leaned to the side to examine them, a small frown appearing between his brows. ‘You can walk in those things?’

‘Women don’t wear boots like these for comfort.’

Bending forward, she reached down and ran her hands over the shining leather, tucking her thumbs under the edge at her thigh and tugging as she lifted her foot off the ground. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she turned her head and smiled the kind of small, meaningful smile she’d never aimed at him before. ‘Didn’t we talk about how people wear things because of the way they make them feel?’

The glint of danger in his eyes was obviously intended to make her stop what she was doing before she was any deeper in trouble. Foolish man. He really didn’t know her at all.

Daniel gritted his teeth together as she repeated the motion with her hands on her other leg and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she sat up. When she smiled across the room, his gaze followed her line of vision to the barista who was smiling back at her.

The one who had known how she took her coffee.

The second his gaze shifted, Daniel glared at him. But the guy who immediately went scurrying back to his coffee beans wasn’t the source of his annoyance. Neither was the fact his plan to purposefully avoid looking at her feet as he approached the table had backfired on him, though, with hindsight, forewarned might have been forearmed. What got to him was how well her diversionary tactic had worked.

There wasn’t a male cell in his body that hadn’t reacted to those boots and the strip of bare skin below another sinful short skirt. He had spent every moment since he’d sat down with her consciously stopping himself from looking at the straining buttons on her black blouse and once again she’d got him with footwear. But if she thought it would distract him from his target for long, she was mistaken.

He was a Marine, for crying out loud; the phrase ‘courage under fire’ was as good as tattooed on his ass.

Watching with hooded eyes, he saw her slide her computer to one side before resting her elbow on the table. Setting her chin in her palm, she leaned forward, feigned innocence with a flutter of long lashes and asked, ‘Something wrong?’

‘You done?’ he questioned dryly.

‘Done with what?’ Amusement danced in her eyes. ‘You might need to elaborate.’

If he didn’t know what she was doing, he might have been tempted to play along. But if he did, Daniel knew what would happen. He would play to win.

‘Tell me what’s going on.’

When she rolled her eyes, he set his forearms on the table and leaned closer, his gaze locked on hers while he waited. Up close she did have pretty spectacular eyes. A little large for her face maybe, but they were so deep a brown it was difficult to tell where the irises began.

He’d never noticed that before.

After studying him for a long moment, she lowered her voice. ‘What if I told you it was private?’