“Hell, sweetheart. I’m not being a gentleman. I can catch a cab over at your place. I’m expecting you to protect me.” He winked.

  But she could do it. Holland was more competent than anyone he knew with the singular exception of Connor. Instead, he grinned her way and decided not to tell her that he would walk her home because he didn’t want the evening to end.

  St. Louis Street was a crowded mess, but then it was every night. Even during the dog days of summer, the Quarter was jammed with tourists and students, all trying to out-party the next guy.

  Dax grabbed her hand so he wouldn’t lose her in the throng as he headed for her apartment. Maybe he could convince her to fix him some coffee and they could talk a little more. Not about the case. He wanted to forget about that for one night. He wouldn’t kiss her again. He would show her they could be friends and when she was comfortable, he would move them to something more physical.

  A woman bumped into him, their shoulders banging together.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Sorry. So sorry. Hey, do you know where Bourbon Street is?” Given the way she slurred her words, it sounded as if she’d already had enough for the night. She also looked like she couldn’t be much past nineteen. She pushed her unruly hair out of her eyes, which weren’t quite focused.

  “Where are your parents?” Holland asked, obviously seeing what he did.

  “Fucking cops.” The girl rolled her eyes and stumbled on.

  “Par for the course.” Holland sighed. “I could follow her, but I don’t have jurisdiction here. I hope she’s got a good fake ID because those boys on Bourbon Street know they’re being watched. When we get home, I’ll call and have the street cops look for her. At least we know where she’s going.”

  A group of women decked out for a bachelorette party rambled through, causing him to separate slightly from her.

  She stepped out of the way of the drunk women. Unfortunately, that caused Holland to step into a part of the street that hadn’t been blocked off to traffic. A long line of cars waited, their drivers impatient. He turned in her direction when a man on a bicycle wove through the cars.

  That bike was on a collision course for Holland. Dax’s eyes widened.

  “Holland!” He tried to push his way through. Only feet separated them, but he couldn’t reach her fast enough. “Watch your twelve!”

  She seemed to hear him and looked up just in time to see the bike plowing toward her. Horns honked and the world suddenly seemed louder than before. Holland didn’t panic. She simply stepped back up onto the curb and balanced herself.

  He breathed a sigh of relief as the bike started to zoom past her, its rider thrusting out a muscled arm. He snatched the bag right off Holland’s shoulder.

  She whirled around and fell to one knee, knocking it hard against the pavement.

  Dax finally managed to push his way through to her. He knelt and lifted her.

  Holland clutched his hand as she struggled to her feet. “He took my computer. That asswipe took my computer.”

  Now that he knew she wasn’t hurt, Dax spun around and gave chase. If she wanted her computer, he would get it for her.

  He took off running, his feet pounding on the uneven pavement. He had to fight his way through the crowd, keeping his eyes on that bike. As he wove through the nasty tangle of traffic, he heard someone shouting behind him. He thought it might have been Holland, but if he took his eyes off the man for even a second, he might lose the thief.

  Damn it, he hated not having control—over the press from following them, over his past, and definitely over this stealing motherfucker. But he intended to hunt the thug down and get her computer back.

  Then it hit him: someone had targeted Holland, specifically went out of his way to take her computer. The Quarter was filled with tourists who’d imbibed too much dangling purses from their shoulders and tucking fat wallets in their back pocket. But the guy on the bike had gone straight for his girl. She’d just started the investigation and already someone wanted whatever notes or evidence she had, so they’d taken her laptop.

  Just like they’d taken the life from his father.

  He shoved the suspicion aside in favor of running, of giving into his predatory instincts.

  The bike turned, gliding down a side street.

  Traffic was moving, but that didn’t matter to Dax. He heard the horns blare but ran anyway. He slammed his hand on the hood of a car that stopped suddenly and dashed around it, across the street, his chest heaving.

  He managed to sprint onto that street and his way opened up. Then he picked up the pace. If he let the thief sneak out of these tight streets, Dax would surely lose him.

  The guy on the bike pedaled hard, but the streets were uneven and riddled with potholes that could trip up a person walking—much less some asshat pedaling hard to flee the scene of his crime. Dax watched as the guy hit a big divot in the road, his body flying forward before finally giving in to gravity.

  Fucking hell, yes. This was the break he needed.

  He sped up, even though his heart was threatening to pound out of his chest. He saw Holland’s laptop bag go flying. It had been hanging from the handlebars and now flung upward before falling once more and hitting the street.

  Dax headed for it but he watched the groaning man writhe on the ground. Nondescript besides being tall and well built, the criminal wore sweatpants and a black light jacket.

  He cursed loudly and twisted to his feet. When he spun around, Dax could see the guy wore sunglasses under his helmet. He couldn’t tell much more than that except that the man was tan and either Caucasian or Hispanic.

  “I’m taking that bag back,” Dax yelled as he moved down the alley.

  “Fuck you,” the man said in a deep voice and reached for his bike.

  Darkness had fallen and very little light penetrated the bodies and buildings from the main streets. Shadow encroached on all sides, but Dax was determined. He went for the bag.

  The man’s foot kicked out, catching him on the forearm. Dax gritted his teeth and whirled around, attempting to stay on his feet. The asshole was stronger than he looked and Dax found himself taking a hard punch that landed him on the ground, his knees hitting the bricks with a jaw-jarring strike.

  Pain flared through him, but he tried to shove that aside and reach for the laptop bag.

  Just as he grabbed it, Dax realized the asshole on the bike had brought along more than a helmet for protection.

  “Let go.” The man stood over him, gripping a gun in his hand.

  Unfortunately, Dax knew what kind of damage a SIG Sauer could do, and the thug looked pretty competent with the damn thing. He was forced to drop the leather satchel.

  Damn it, he was in the inferior position, never thinking that his pleasant evening with Holland could turn dangerous so quickly. He calculated his odds of distracting the other man, but his knee had taken a nice hit, the right one bleeding. Jarring pain swept through his thigh and gripped his kneecap. He might be able to use his martial arts training and catch the criminal off guard with a well-aimed kick using his uninjured leg, but if he couldn’t sprint away, Dax knew he’d have a big, fatal hole in his body.

  “I’m serious, fucker,” the man ground out. “Move another inch and I’ll blow your head off.”

  Dax believed him. Humiliation flashed hot through his blood. He should be able to take down a lone assailant and retrieve Holland’s bag. He was a damn Naval officer. He’d had years of training, but that didn’t make him Superman. He was defenseless against a speeding bullet.

  “Dax!”

  Shit. Holland. She’d followed him. She would have a gun, but might not see that this fucker also did until it was too late. The thug could turn and shoot her before she could even defend herself.

  Never taking his eyes off Dax, the criminal stooped down and nabbed the bag, looping it over his head and across his chest. The gun never wavered as he shouted down the narrow alley, “Don’t make a move or I’ll blow his head off.”

  “Take the bag and go. I’m not making any kind of move.” Holland halted near the street, her hands in the air. “You don’t have to make this worse. Right now, all you’ve managed is some petty theft. We’ll file a report and move on. You shoot him and the cops won’t ever stop looking for you.”

  The man used his free hand to lift his bike, but he didn’t turn his back to either of them. The alley was narrow, letting out to the next street west. He could easily lose himself in more tourists.

  “Go on. I won’t stop you,” Holland promised, her voice calm and easy.

  The man backed down the alley and took off.

  Dax rose to his feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the assailant.

  “Don’t you dare,” Holland warned, racing down the alley, her gun in hand. She carried it with the competency of a woman who had been around firearms all her life. She got to the end of the alley and holstered her weapon.

  “We can still catch him,” Dax insisted.

  She pulled her phone from her purse and started to dial. “You’re not going anywhere. Chasing him down was a crazy thing to do.”

  Dax had to stop her from making that call. “Holland, if you call the police, the press will follow. They’ll be everywhere. It’s why I took off after him in the first place.”

  She hesitated, sighed, then tucked the phone way. “I have to file a report, but you’re right. Are you okay?”

  The night had gone to shit. “I’ll clean up at home.”

  “Absolutely not. We’re a block from my place. Let’s go.”

  “How can you let him get away with that?”

  She frowned. “You know how? Because if I chased him down and started shooting, someone would get hurt. You’re looking at me like I should have been more of a cop. You know what? I was being a cop, Dax. My job is to protect and I didn’t act any differently than I would want someone else to in my situation. That computer is a thing. It can be replaced. People can’t.”

  Dax studied her stony expression, her tight jaw. She was more upset than she was letting on.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I was helping.” He’d thought he could be her hero. He’d done it a hundred times over the course of his career, but he’d failed with his woman.

  “I know. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  So he could head home. Gabe and Mad were probably somewhere partying it up. He would sit with his mother and have a quiet, lonely chat over a glass of brandy, see if he could catch a glimpse of the laughing, happy woman he remembered from his childhood.

  He followed Holland toward her place and wished they’d never left the restaurant.

  * * *

  This is going to hurt.” Holland winced as she dabbed the antiseptic on his elbow.

  Dax hissed slightly but didn’t flinch. More proof that he was completely insane. Instead, he stared at a stationary point above her head.

  “You really should have let me call the paramedics so they could take a look at you.”

  He shrugged as she placed the bandage over his wound. “I didn’t want to deal with the press. It’s better if we just quietly file a report on the theft and leave the rest out of it. Have you wondered why he didn’t take your purse?”

  She moved on to the angry red scrape across his knee. He’d hit the pavement so hard he’d torn through his slacks, but it didn’t look as if he needed stitches. The bleeding had thankfully stopped. “I have no idea. He wasn’t very smart, though. He got the cheaper of the two bags I was carrying. This purse is actually vintage Versace. Joy bought it for me as her maid of honor. It’s worth a small fortune, much more than the laptop itself.”

  “Was that the only thing in the bag?” His low voice sounded monotone. He’d been distant, almost removed ever since the asshole had gotten away.

  Holland wondered if he was angry or embarrassed that he hadn’t brought the bad guy down. There was nothing more Dax could have done. “My laptop, an extra battery, wireless mouse. That’s all. My phone was in my purse, thank god.”

  “Was it a particularly expensive laptop?”

  “It’s government issued, so what do you think?” she asked with an acidic little grin. “It sucked. And don’t worry. I already called the office. They shut down any access from that system and changed every one of my passwords. It’s really more of a hassle than anything. I bet he was actually trying to get my purse and missed.”

  Dax finally cast his gaze on her, his eyes chilly. “He wasn’t. I watched him. He knew exactly what he wanted.”

  A tinge of disquiet rolled through her. “Are you saying someone followed us? How would they even have known where we were?”

  His mouth tightened. “Don’t forget, someone took a picture of us going into Antoine’s. It was up about five minutes after we entered the restaurant. We were there for two hours. Unfortunately, it’s not hard to follow someone like me around. All you have to do is watch the gossip sites.” He glanced at his phone. “I’m glad no one snapped pictures of me fighting that asshole. That would have made for awesome press.”

  With a wry nod, Holland closed up the first aid kit and sat back on her couch, trying to figure Dax out. He’d been so heroic and intent on saving her. Now he seemed all but shut down and she couldn’t stand it. She needed to come at the problem from a different angle.

  “I was scared for you,” she murmured.

  He stared her way through narrowed eyes. “I know you like to think of me as a spoiled rich kid, but I am a captain in the Navy. I know how to handle myself in a fight.”

  As the truth behind his mood hit her, she softened. He was still feeling the adrenaline. She’d seen this time and time again after a battle or fight, felt it herself a few times when she’d gotten into dangerous situations. He needed calm and she was going to give it to him.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have shot you. My laptop wasn’t worth your life. I back everything up. Every note I had, every file I’ve gathered is saved to an alternate storage system. Even the notes I took during the interview with my uncle are saved there. I’ll pull it all onto my home system tonight, so it’s not a big deal. You were amazing, Dax. I appreciate you for trying to come to my rescue but I never want you to put yourself in that position for me again.”

  His body language softened slightly. “Didn’t like watching him pull a gun on me, huh?”

  Her heart had nearly stopped when she’d caught up to them. “If I never see it again, it will be too soon.”

  She’d stood at the entrance of the alley helplessly, knowing she couldn’t get to him or her own weapon in time. If the assailant had wanted to pull the trigger, she couldn’t have saved Dax. In that moment, she’d realized she could lose him. And something had shifted inside her. Yes, she was afraid that a relationship with him could end in heartache, but was she willing to go her whole life without knowing what it felt like to wake up beside him? To wrap her arms around him and know he belonged to her? To surrender utterly to the one man she knew would make everything else worthwhile?

  As if their kiss at Antoine’s had taken place mere moments ago, she could still feel his lips on hers, tempting her as his big body had pressed her, hot and hard, to the wall. She’d almost been willing to do anything to have him right then and there.

  “He got lucky. If I’d been closer, I would have gotten that gun out of his hand and grabbed your laptop,” Dax vowed. “If I ever see that asshole again, I’m going to wipe the floor with him.”

  She gave him a placating smile, intending to make sure they stayed far away from the guy. “Like I said, there’s nothing important on that laptop that I can’t get back. So if this was some nefarious plot to steal my secrets, they failed.”

  He fell quiet for a moment. “I find it interesting that you start investigating my father’s case and someone immediately assaults you.”

  He sounded a bit suspicious, like he was looking for conspiracy theories all around him. She had a few theories of her own. “It was very likely a random street crime. It’s the season, and we happened to be on the perfect street and at the right time of day. Or if they were targeting me, it was because of your media attention. If a reporter thinks we’re dating, they likely want the laptop to get information on me. Or in case we have stuff stored on it.”

  “Stuff?”

  She felt herself blush. She really shouldn’t have to tell him what she could potentially have on her computer that a tabloid might pay tons of money to own.

  His lips curled up into a broad, male grin. “You think someone hoped that you had a sex tape of us?”

  “I’ve heard that there’s a bounty out on any of the president’s friends. Well, except for Mad. He practically has a YouTube channel devoted to his sex life. If we’ve already hit the tabloid pages, it makes sense that some asshole reporter would try to get a scoop. He did have a camera bag on his bike.”

  “Stupid bicycles should have license plates. I didn’t get that great a look at the asshole once we turned down that alley. It was too dark and he was wearing that douchebag helmet. I don’t like that someone is already stalking us. Holland, I should go.”

  “Leave?” She blinked at him and resisted the urge to pull him close.

  “I think I should,” he said grimly. “Maybe you should stop investigating and we shouldn’t see each other anymore. It’s too soon after the giant shit storm of my father’s scandal. Whoever wanted him dead doesn’t want the truth uncovered. I can’t risk you.”

  Yesterday, she would have started singing hallelujah at the thought of Dax not dangling his tempting self in front of her anymore. Now she couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing him every day. She’d been a coward where he was concerned for nearly ten years, always running from this amazing man because she wanted him too much and she’d long feared he would leave her broken. Yes, he came with baggage. Granted, some phenomenally wretched baggage, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the loneliness on his face when he’d admitted that no woman he dated had cared about him enough to know his favorite foods. She knew far more about him and they’d barely flirted with anything beyond friendship.