The Detective's Undoing. Jill Shalvis
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frown. “What kind of way is that to greet your fiancé?”
Delia gave up with a groan and closed her eyes.
She heard whispering, then felt shifting, and when she opened her eyes again, Cade was in the seat right next to her, his arm and thigh brushing hers. She could feel the heat of him through their clothes, and the strength he carefully held in check.
And when her gaze lifted to meet his, all traces of amusement had been replaced by a passion she found harder to deal with than his teasing. “Cade—”
“Your light was on all night and you left at the crack of dawn,” he said quietly. “You didn’t sleep, you didn’t eat. You can’t travel like this.”
“I can get by on very little sleep, and believe me, my figure could do without a meal now and then. And coming from the consummate traveler, this conversation is very strange.”
“Everyone needs sleep, your body is amazing just the way it is and needs its fuel, and as a consummate traveler, I know what you’re doing. You’re nervous, you’re uptight and you need a friend.”
“Is that what you are? A friend?”
“I already told you that.”
“People tell me a lot of things.”
“That they don’t mean?” He shook his head, never taking his gaze off hers. “Not me.”
Of course she didn’t believe him; it would be ridiculous to do so. But she was breathless, and she told herself it was the pressure, since the plane had started its taxi down the runway.
It had absolutely nothing to do with his thinking her body was amazing. “You should have gone home, Cade.”
“Home?” The word rolled off his tongue as if it was foreign to him.
Which just proved her point. He could never really understand her and all that she held dear. “Home. Your office in Boise. Unless you have another home, which of course, since you never say a word about yourself or your private life, I wouldn’t know.”
“And that disturbs you.”
“I’m curious about you,” she admitted. “I don’t even know if you’re married.”
“I’m not,” he said with sudden grimness. “And I don’t talk about me. Ever.”
So much for their friendship. “Fine. Then go. Go far away.”
“Just go? Where? Anywhere, as long as it’s far from you?”
“Well…yes.”
He sighed. “You’re a tough nut, Delia, I’ll give you that. But I’m tougher.”
“What does that mean?” But she knew, and let out a groan. “You’re sticking.”
“Like glue.”
“I don’t need you.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I don’t want you.”
His full lips curved, and his expression lightened with genuine humor. “Now, now. Let’s not lie, not among friends.”
“We’re not friends. And I’m not lying!”
“Uh-huh.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back, deciding the only way to deal with this was to ignore him.
“Dream of me,” he whispered.
And damn him, she did.
* * *
The sunny warm weather in Southern California was so different from the cold autumn she’d just left, Delia couldn’t believe it. How could she have forgotten, even for a moment, how delicious the weather was at all times in Los Angeles?
She rented a car from the airport, still trying to ignore Cade, which was becoming increasingly difficult, especially since each long assessing glance he gave her seemed to affect her accumulatively, so that she was aware of little else. It got so she didn’t have to be looking at him; she could feel his every move.
Jacob, she reminded herself. Concentrate on Jacob. There had to be a way to ensure custody, which she wanted so very much. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t imagine letting him live anywhere else when his family was in Idaho, but also that she already loved him and had from the moment she knew he existed.
“It’ll work out,” Cade said into the silence, his voice gentle and subdued, all joking gone. “Getting Jacob.”
Startled, she glanced at him. He was driving—he’d insisted, claiming that it would leave her mind free to race around if she wanted—and was concentrating on the road in front of him. He had the window down, his hair whipping wild in the breeze. With his sleeves shoved up to his elbows, revealing strong tanned forearms and big sure hands, he seemed relaxed. Confident. And just a tad cocky.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“Do what?” he said innocently.
“Am I such an open book that you can read my mind?”
He risked a quick glance at her. “On the contrary, actually.” He gave a smile that might have been a killer, if she wasn’t immune to such things. “But I do have an edge.”
“An edge?”
“Yeah. I understand you.”
“That’s interesting, considering we’re polar opposites.”
“Opposites attract,” he said so grimly she realized for the first time that he resented their strange chemistry even more than she did.
Because that gave her too much to think about, she made a disagreeing sound, turned away to look out the passenger window and tried to think about other things.
Soon she’d meet her brother for the first time. Her stomach danced with jittery butterflies. What would he be like?
What would great-aunt Edna be like? It hadn’t been until after their mother’s death just months ago that Jacob had even met Edna. She was Delia’s mother’s second aunt by marriage and until last year had lived in France—which was why twenty years ago, when Delia’s mother had left her in the foster home, there hadn’t been anyone available to help.
Jacob must be terrified; she’d certainly been all those years back. But in spite of everything, Delia considered herself lucky. She had found Zoe and Maddie, and they’d turned out to be her heart and soul.
Jacob had no one but Edna, and no matter how sweet and kind and wonderful she might be, it wasn’t the same as close family.
Delia didn’t fool herself. Getting close to Jacob—given the terse restrained phone conversations they’d had—wasn’t going to be easy. But she knew what it was like to hide behind a cool facade; she’d find a way to Jacob’s heart. She’d never abandon him.
But as she gave Cade the directions she’d been given, they went from the relative slums surrounding the airport to the elegant mansions of San Marino, and any confidence she’d managed to muster faded.
Jacob was living like a king.
How could she compare?
That was simple enough—she couldn’t. With a sinking feeling, she stared at the house they’d pulled up in front of. Three stories of brick and windows shaped into the most charming Tudor-style home she’d ever seen. The circular drive was surrounded with meticulous gardens, and a BMW sat in the drive, beneath a colorful flag waving the words Welcome, Friends.
She felt every bit the misplaced unwanted city girl. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t compete, and all her buried feelings of worthlessness worked to the surface.
At the touch on her arm, she looked into Cade’s unsmiling face. Yet she had no trouble detecting the