“I had good preliminary talks with a German firm that trains dogs for protection work,” Sam told him. “We’ve had so many requests to add guard dogs to the security measures we offer that Del and I thought the time had come.”

  “We flew to Germany and visited three training centers,” Del added. “One clearly offered a superior product and they’re interested in working with us. Essentially, we’d act as a middleman. When dogs are requested, we’ll bring them straight from Germany to the client’s home. We’re adding a trainer to our staff who will evaluate all requests. If they’re approved, he’ll travel to Germany to transport the dogs. He also will stay with the client for a few days to ensure the proper setup is in place and there’s someone responsible for the dogs.”

  Robert whistled. “Sounds like a big step.”

  Sam shrugged. “It is and it isn’t. We offer every other type of home security on the market, but some people still feel more secure with dogs around.”

  “I can understand that,” the older man said. “Evvie wouldn’t be without our two.”

  Evvie was Robert’s wife. They’d been married shortly after Sam had met the man and he’d also met Evvie on one or two occasions. A pretty, youthful-looking woman of about Robert’s age, Evvie was a horsewoman and a dog person, as well. The couple had two large Dalmatians.

  “How is Evvie?” Del asked. “She was getting a colt ready for the Preakness last time I talked to her.”

  “She’s still horse-mad,” Robert said with a smile. “She recently invested in a new colt who’s a several-times-great-grandson of Man O’War and she has high hopes for the Triple Crown.”

  Del’s eyebrow rose. “Those are high hopes.”

  “Wish her luck from us,” Sam said as the waiter appeared to remove their salad plates.

  After the main course, Del rose and excused herself to freshen up. The moment she was out of earshot, Sam turned to Robert. “So I understand you know Del’s mother.”

  Robert smiled, but there wasn’t real humor in it. “I ought to. I was married to the woman.”

  “You’re kidding.” Sam was stunned. He tried to imagine Robert and the sort of woman Del’s mother clearly was, and failed. “Before Evvie.”

  “Well over a decade ago. It didn’t last two years,” Robert said. “And the only reason it took that long for me to decide to leave was because I was brought up to think one never quit working at a marriage.” He sighed. “But she wouldn’t meet me halfway. Hell, she wouldn’t even take the first step.” He shook his head, and to his surprise, Sam detected a fond note in his voice. “She was a spoiled brat, but she could charm the socks off any man she met. Still can, for that matter.”

  “You’re on good terms now?”

  Robert nodded. “Once she got over the fact that for once she hadn’t been the one to call it off, we were able to be civil. She’s even had dinner with Evvie and me a time or two.”

  Dinner with Robert and Evvie? This was getting stranger and stranger. “What attracted you to her?” Sam asked, still trying to fathom Robert’s interest.

  Robert looked at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Sam shook his head.

  Robert smiled. “Del’s personality is very different from her mother’s. Imagine Del dressed to kill, fluttering her eyelashes and deliberately aiming all that sex appeal at you.”

  “Ah.” Sam smiled wryly. “It probably wouldn’t have taken us seven years to get together.”

  Robert laughed. “Yeah. I could barely remember my own name.” He took a sip of wine. “So tell me about you and Del.”

  Sam shrugged, picking up his own wineglass. “We’ve worked together for a long time. One day we realized we had…good chemistry.” The understatement made him smile.

  A moment later he realized Robert was regarding him with less than enthusiastic regard. “Del is a wonderful young woman,” Robert said softly, “and I would do my utter best to tear your heart out if you hurt her.”

  Sam would have laughed except that Robert’s blue eyes carried not a hint of humor. “I’m not planning on hurting her,” he said evenly.

  “At the risk of sounding paternal, might I ask what your intentions are?”

  Holy hell. The man was serious. “I, ah, consider my relationship with Del to be a permanent one,” he said, feeling his way through the minefield that suddenly had developed, “and I hope to convince her to marry me eventually.”

  The steely expression on Robert’s face eased significantly and his eyes warmed again. “I see. Del isn’t keen on marriage?”

  Sam shook his head. “She doesn’t even want to talk about next week, much less anything permanent. I’ve convinced her to let me move in on a trial basis, but that’s it.”

  “Del hasn’t seen many examples of successful marriages,” Robert said regretfully. “But keep after her. I imagine you’ll get an ‘I do’ one of these days.”

  Del returned then and both men stood. She eyed them curiously as she slid into the booth. “You two look guilty,” she said. “Keeping secrets?”

  Sam laughed. “When was the last time I managed to keep a secret from you?”

  She smiled demurely. “True.”

  But he was keeping a secret from her, and his amusement faded as he thought of the phone call he’d received. Someone wanted to find Sam Pender, and if he wasn’t careful, the quiet life he’d created for himself was going to be blown right out of the water.

  After coffee, they rose to leave. Del preceded the men from the restaurant and Sam put an arm around her waist as they crossed the parking lot. At the car, Robert kissed her before Sam put her into the passenger seat and closed the door.

  As he rounded the hood, Robert kept pace with him. “Thank you for bringing Del along. It was wonderful to catch up with both of you.”

  “No problem.” Sam stopped and held out his hand. “I can tell Del adores you. Thanks for joining us.”

  Robert smiled as he clasped Sam’s hand. “If you ever talk her into marrying you, let me know.”

  Sam nodded. “Don’t hold your breath. She’s still pretty skittish.” He glanced fondly at the small woman sitting in his vehicle. “But I’ll wear her down eventually.”

  Robert followed the direction of his glance and raised a hand in farewell when she waved at him. “Does she know you love her?”

  Sam paused, going still. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Robert clapped him on the back. “I recognize the signs.”

  Sam opened his mouth to respond. But what, really, was there to say? He watched as Robert walked across the lot to his dark rental sedan and drove away with a final wave.

  He loved Del. And Robert had seen it before he, Sam, had even been able to admit it to himself. The mere thought made him literally begin to sweat.

  He did love her. Her quirky eyebrow and the baggy clothes she often wore, that stupid baseball cap and the way she impatiently flipped her braid back over her shoulder. Her ready sense of humor and her quiet stubbornness when she thought she was right. Her firm no-nonsense approach to handling their employees and the warmth he didn’t have that she brought to the company.

  His chest felt too small to contain his swelling heart as he stood there with his car keys gripped in his hand and his whole world sitting there five feet from him.

  God, when he’d thought he’d been in love with Ilsa, it had been a manageable, controllable emotion, subject to his will. When she’d left him, he’d been a little hurt, but a lot humiliated and even more angry that she would desert him when he most needed someone.

  Loving Del wasn’t manageable at all, he realized. If she ever left him, he would be devastated. His pride wouldn’t even come into play, and perhaps that was the most telling thing. Abruptly, he spun and yanked open his car door, sliding into his seat and turning to Del.

  She was looking at him with a humorous question in her eyes, but he couldn’t explain. Leaning across the console, he cradled her head in both hands as he set his mouth on hers, kissing her with all the tenderness of the feelings rolling through him.

  When he finally lifted his head, her eyes were soft and dreamy. She touched her lips with one finger. “What brought that on?”

  He shrugged as he inserted the key into the ignition and turned on the engine. “Nothing in particular. I just thought you needed kissing.”

  It was her turn to lean over the console as she kissed him on the cheek. “You thought right.”

  He smiled as he put the car in gear and started home. He’d lied when he’d said nothing in particular. He might love Del, but he wasn’t stupid enough to tell her so. As cautious as she was, she’d head for the hills before he could get out the third word.

  No, it was going to take time to woo her, to make her see that she couldn’t live without him, either. To make her relax those ever-present guards around her emotions and love him back.

  Time. It wasn’t as if he was going anywhere.

  Seven

  In the middle of the night, he woke up sweating. His heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through his system as the remnants of the dream receded.

  Damn. This was the second time in less than a month.

  Del was sitting up in bed beside him, one hand lightly clasping his arm. “Hey,” she said. “You were having a bad dream.”

  After the first time, he’d had the dream over and over again, whenever he closed his eyes. Only in the dream, sometimes the gunman turned and pointed his weapon at Sam before he could get to the guy. It had been months before he’d gotten a decent night’s sleep. As the years had passed, though, it had ambushed him less and less frequently, so much so that now he was surprised when it recurred.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  He hesitated. He still wasn’t ready to tell her all about his past. Being called a hero made him cringe. He’d only been doing what he’d been trained to do that day; he’d known he had a moral obligation to try to stop that killer.

  But if he was going to continue to be with her she deserved to have some explanation.

  He pulled her down into his arms, enjoying the way she instantly softened and draped her body over his. “It’s a recurring dream. I’ve had it for almost eight years now.”

  “It has to do with your injuries, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He stroked her back, absorbing the silky texture of her smooth skin. Somehow it wasn’t as hard as he’d expected to talk about this with her, lying here in the dark, quiet room. “But I wasn’t wounded in combat.”

  “Then how did you get shot?” Her voice was intense and puzzled. “Those are gunshot wounds.”

  And she would know. One of their bodyguards had been winged a couple of years ago, and just last year a member of the abduction team took a bullet in the thigh while reuniting a little boy with his custodial parent after he was taken out of the country by the other parent.

  He took a deep breath. “I got shot by a nut job on the street. It was kind of ironic—I’d never been wounded in combat, but a day after I get home on leave, I get nailed right on the street.” That was all true. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

  “This one—” she lightly touched the puckered scar above his left hip “—must have done some damage.”

  “It nicked my spine,” he said tersely. “I spent a couple months at a rehab center.”

  “Rehab center?”

  “Learning to walk again.” He could feel the muscle clenching and unclenching in his jaw. “For a while they thought I was going to be paralyzed. I had no feeling in my legs for about three weeks.”

  She gasped and her hands moved in an unconscious gentling circle on him. “No wonder you have nightmares. That must have been terrifying.”

  “It was. Luckily it only lasted a short time.” He dismissed the fear and abject terror, the budding despair of those three weeks with one sentence.

  “I’m so glad you weren’t permanently paralyzed.” She stretched up to kiss his chin, then lingered, pressing light, soft kisses against his throat and working her way down his chest until she found one small, flat nipple.

  He forgot his somber thoughts as pleasure instantly ricocheted through his body. Del didn’t seem to want to talk, didn’t seem to need additional explanation. And that was fine with him.

  Way more than fine. She was soft and warm and eminently arousing as she squirmed into better position atop him, and he found himself swiftly, completely aroused, hard and full and aching for the sweet oblivion she promised. He reached down and pressed against her inner thigh until she parted her legs on either side of his body.

  He sucked in a raw breath of need as he grabbed protection from the bedside table. “Wait a sec,” he growled as he deftly covered himself. Then he moved into place, inching himself into her at an excruciatingly slow pace. When she moaned and wriggled, trying to push herself down onto him, he held her hips in his big hands and kept it slow and leisurely.

  “Sam,” she pleaded, “please…please…”

  “Please what?” With one quick move, he rolled them so that she lay beneath him. The motion had nearly dislodged him, and her hips surged restlessly as he braced himself above her and resisted her urgings.

  “Please…” She was panting, her fingers digging into his hard buttocks as she tried in vain to pull him closer.

  “Please…this?” He lowered his weight onto her abruptly, driving his hips forward, embedding himself deeply within her as she arched up to meet him, her arms tightening as if to hold him there forever.

  “Yes.” The word was a bare whisper of delight.

  He looked down at her, silhouetted in the moonlight that shone through her window. Her dark hair was a wild spill across the pillow. Her eyes were closed and her lips were full and soft from his kisses, lightly parted now with passion.

  God, she was beautiful. And she was his.

  He and Del were meant for each other, meant to spend the rest of their lives together. They complemented each other in so many ways. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, couldn’t predict a future that didn’t have her in it.

  He was determined to have her in his life.

  Now all he had to do was convince her. She was wary and as skittish about commitment as he’d been just days ago, but he was going to change that, he vowed. He was going to marry her.

  The following week, Del popped her head into his office toward the end of the day and said, “We’re celebrating Beth from bookkeeping’s birthday this evening. Do you want to go?”

  He hesitated. No was on the tip of his tongue but he wanted to spend the evening with Del, and he supposed this was her indirect way of telling him she planned to go. “I guess since I went to one, it might cause ill will if I didn’t go to them all now,” he said with a grimace. “Right?”

  “Probably,” she said in a cheerful voice. “It would be a nice thing to do, too.”

  He stared at her. “I am not nice.”

  She laughed. “All the more reason for you to go and be civil.”

  Which is how he found himself sandwiched between Del and the new woman, Karen, at a round table in a small Italian restaurant, singing “Happy Birthday” to Beth from the bookkeeping department. They had just finished the song when the door to the restaurant opened and Walker entered.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Happy birthday, Beth.”

  Sam felt both Del and Karen stiffen. It was hard to miss, smashed between them as he was in the bench seat. Women, he supposed, had an internal radar for relationship trouble. And that was what had just walked through the door.

  Walker had the top-heavy, intellect-light redhead with him again. His tie was crooked—very—and the redhead’s lipstick was smeared across one cheek. Her hair looked as if someone had set off a small explosion beneath it. There was little question what the pair had been doing. God, he hoped he and Del were never that obvious.

  Both of them looked as if they’d had more than a few drinks. Even if Karen had divorced Walker a long time ago, it probably still was no fun seeing your ex make an ass of himself with a woman young enough to be his daughter.

  “Thank you,” said the birthday girl. “Pull up a seat.”

  Walker grabbed a chair from a nearby empty table one-handed, swiveling it around so that he could sit. Then he grabbed the redhead and tugged her down onto his lap, winding a brawny arm about the girl’s waist as she giggled. “Jennifer, everybody,” he said, waving a hand. “You met some of them before. Everybody, this is Jennifer.”

  “Hi.” Jennifer waved like a beauty queen on a parade float. She turned to Walker. “Which one is Karen?”

  “That would be me.” Karen raised her hand, her voice cool and casual.

  Jennifer examined Karen for a long silent moment, then turned to Walker. “You said she was old. She’s pretty,” she said in a sulky voice.

  Walker looked as though he’d swallowed his tongue. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and Sam wondered if he was talking to Jennifer or Karen.

  Around the table, curiosity was as strong a presence as the new guests. No one else in the company, other than Del and he, knew Walker and Karen Munson had been married once, as far as Sam knew.

  At his side, Karen stirred and spoke into the uncomfortable silence. “Could you excuse me, please? I need to get going.”

  She stood and Sam stood automatically, pushing Del before him so they could let Karen slide out of the seat.

  She paused at the edge of the table and smiled at Beth. “Happy birthday,” she said. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “We do it all the time,” Peg said. “You’ll soon be good and sick of us inviting you to celebrate birthdays. We might as well just glue this on our thighs.” She indicated the piece of chocolate cake on her plate.

  There was a general ripple of agreement and a few chuckles, and Karen smiled again. “See you tomorrow.”

  She was already turning to walk away when Jennifer-the-redhead said, “Why’s she leaving? I thought you said she didn’t have a family anymore.” Although she was speaking to Walker, the words carried across the table.