“Okay, once you’ve made a hard-packed snowball, you start rolling it through the snow, stopping once in a while to pat it down. We’ll need a large one for the bottom, medium for the middle and a smaller one for the head.”

  “Like Frosty the Snowman,” Cait added.

  “Yes.” Jordan laughed. “Just like Frosty.”

  Cait decided Jordan should make the biggest part, Laura the medium and she would do the smallest since she was the smallest. Soon they were all concentrating, rolling and pressing and patting as they went along to make perfect balls. As Laura finished the middle section, she stood up to show everyone…and a glob of snow hit her on the side of her face. She sputtered and turned to Cait. “Did you just throw a snowball at your mother?” she said indignantly.

  Cait backed away, giggling like crazy. “I didn’t mean to. I never threw a snowball before and I missed where it was supposed to go.”

  Practically before Cait finished her sentence, Laura felt another splat against her back. She turned to see Jordan egging Cait on. “Well, that does it,” she said, and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it into a hard ball. Within seconds a flurry of snowballs hailed around her and she was in the midst of a full-on snowball fight. The missiles flew, one after the other, pelting her time and again until her jacket was white with ice.

  She’d managed a few well-placed hits herself, but finally Laura crumpled to her knees, exhausted. “I give up. I give up.” She fell back in the snow and stretched out her arms. “I’m going to make a snow angel instead.”

  Cait dropped to her knees next to her. “Me, too.”

  Standing above her, Jordan tossed one last snowball from hand to hand. “Don’t you dare,” she said firmly, but couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Oh, I’m so out of breath. Either I’m way out of condition, or that was a lot of work.”

  “It was lots of fun,” Cait countered.

  “It’s the altitude.” Jordan sat in the snow next to her. “If you’re not used to it, you can get altitude sickness. Be sure to drink lots of water.”

  “But we didn’t finish the snowman,” Cait said.

  Jordan tossed his snowball to her. “Let’s get busy, then.”

  Two hours later, Laura had changed into a sweat suit, tucked Cait into bed and watched her drop off to sleep immediately. Playing in the snow was more exercise than either of them had had in ages.

  Pulling the door ajar, Laura felt a sense of peace. She couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. It was good to forget about her problems, and it even felt good to forget about the shelter for a while.

  But forgetting didn’t make her problems go away. She had to figure a way out of this mess she’d gotten them into. She went downstairs, and halfway down, she saw Jordan on one knee in front of the huge fireplace, coaxing a few flames into a blaze. He’d changed clothes, too, probably into one of his friend’s shirts and pants since he hadn’t brought anything with him.

  He turned as she descended the last step.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  “I thought I wore you out.”

  She walked over to him and stood with one hand on the mantel. “What…you think I’m a wimp?”

  He smiled. “Not a chance.”

  “All the fresh air did take its toll on Cait, though. She’s already down for the count.”

  “Too bad. I thought some cocoa by the fire would be fun.”

  Cocoa by the fire. Laura didn’t know what to say. This was a Jordan she hadn’t seen before. The take-charge guy had a softer side. Playful, too. “I’m sure she would’ve liked that. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Well, no reason we can’t do it, anyway—unless you’d like something stronger.”

  “Actually, I would love something stronger.” She rarely had the opportunity at the shelter since she was gone several nights on street watch, and when she wasn’t, she had to be a good role model for the girls.

  “Okay.” He got to his feet. “What’s your preference?”

  “Did you buy something at the store?”

  “No. There’s a well-stocked bar here. A wine cellar, too. Well, it’s not really a cellar, just a small room.”

  He was awfully free with his friend’s property, but then, if it was okay with his friends that she was staying here, she guessed it must be okay if he drank their liquor. “A glass of wine would be great.”

  “Come with me, you can pick out what you’d like.”

  Together they went into the kitchen to a small stairway—three steps—leading down to a rustic, hand-carved door that looked as if it was direct from Tuscany. “The wine room,” he said, and gave the door a shove.

  The room was like a small square closet with shelves on three sides, all filled with bottles. The space was so close, she felt the heat of Jordan’s body, smelled his cologne. An earthy all-male scent that made her pulse thrum. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  “You’ve never seen a wine cellar?”

  “Not in person…or in someone’s home.” The only wine storage she’d seen was the closet where her mother stashed whatever alcohol she had on hand, and the trash can for empty bottles—when they weren’t strewn around their trailer.

  “How about a nice merlot?” He held up a bottle.

  “Sure.”

  They went back into the kitchen where he uncorked the wine and poured some into two delicate glasses with needle-thin stems. He handed one to her, then took her other hand and drew her back into the living room in front of the now crackling blaze. Standing only inches apart, he raised a glass. “Peace.”

  She raised her glass to his. “Peace and happiness.”

  As they stood there in the firelight, his steel-gray eyes seemed to shimmer. His gaze locked with hers, so intense she felt as if he could see directly into her soul. God, she hoped not. He wouldn’t like what he saw.

  She shifted her stance, took a sip of wine and felt the rich liquid slide slowly down her throat, heating her from the inside out. As if her insides weren’t heated enough. “Mmm. That’s good.”

  “It is, isn’t it.”

  His suggestive tone said he wasn’t talking about the wine. Desire stirred low in her belly. She ran her tongue across her lips, savoring the dry wine.

  “Come on.” He tugged her hand. “Let’s sit.” He grabbed two pillows off the couch and tossed them on the floor.

  She had the oddest feeling he was seducing her. But then she wasn’t sure she’d recognize seduction if it bonked her on the head.

  He seemed so relaxed, as if having wine in front of a blazing fire was something he was used to doing all the time. Perhaps he was. And perhaps she was letting her imagination, her wishful thinking, get out of hand. Four years of celibacy might do that to a person.

  But just because she hadn’t dated for a while didn’t mean Jordan hadn’t. He probably had women all over the Valley.

  She sat next to him all the same.

  “I’ve forgotten how nice it is up here in the winter.” He leaned back on one elbow.

  She plumped the pillow behind her and nestled into it. “I’ll bet it’s nice in the summer, too. I love the smell of pine.”

  He was still watching her. Studying her.

  “What else do you love? What are your passions?”

  The question gave her pause. She hadn’t thought about herself for a long time. She stretched out facing him, her weight on one elbow, too. “Lots of things. Cait, for one. My friends. Helping teens…the ocean, walking on the beach, music, dancing…” She raised the glass to her lips and smiled. “A glass of good wine.”

  He laughed. “One of my favorites, too. When was the last time you went dancing?”

  She looked away. “Too long, I think.” She wasn’t going to admit the only dancing she’d done lately was with Cait or the girls at the shelter when they cut loose. On the other hand, they kept her on top of the latest dance crazes and she was pretty good at most of them.

  “Okay. It’s your turn. What do you love to do? What are your passions?”

  He grinned and, keeping his gaze on hers, said, “I love being in the moment. And sitting by a great fire with a beautiful woman is about as in the moment as it gets.”

  Her heartbeat quickened. He was coming on to her. Feeling the heat from both the fire and the inferno suddenly blazing inside her, she took another sip of wine. It didn’t help. In fact, it had been so long since she’d had a glass of wine, it made her woozy. “Good,” she finally managed to say. “That way you don’t waste a lot of time living in the past or looking to a future that’s uncertain at best.”

  His brows arched and he looked puzzled, as if he was still trying to figure out what to make of her.

  Okay. That was too serious. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to drinking wine. It makes me too…moody and unpredictable.”

  He reached over and trailed a finger down her cheek, then lifted her chin so her eyes met his. “I like unpredictable. I like you.”

  Time stopped. His lips met hers, soft and warm and tasting of wine. It was a quick kiss, only a few seconds long. She touched her mouth with her fingertips. “What was that for?” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  His pupils were dilated, making his eyes seem charcoal instead of gray. “Because I’ve wanted to do that ever since I met you.”

  She blinked. Her heart raced. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him, only she made it longer, deeper—more urgent. And this time, they shared the kiss, passions suddenly unleashed. He wrapped his arms around her and she melted into him, need engulfing her. He traced her teeth with his tongue, she nipped his bottom lip. It had been so long…so long since she’d felt a man’s strong arms, so long since she’d felt…desired.

  When they moved apart, both breathless, she said, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while, too.”

  They fell back, smiling, both a bit befuddled. At least she was. Good grief. What was she thinking?

  After a moment, he said, “Well, now that we have that out of the way, why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

  Her guard came up. But her passion—the need—still pulsed inside. She felt as if the curtain had fallen at the end of a great play—and she didn’t want it to end. She wanted more. So much more.

  What would it hurt to enjoy herself for once? What would it hurt to share something about herself? Be in the moment.

  “My parents divorced when I was two. I grew up in a trailer park in Modesto with my mother. I never knew my father until I went to live with him in Sacramento. Then I moved out and went to USC.” She shrugged. “You know the rest.”

  “Any sisters and brothers?”

  She shook her head. Not that she knew of. “No, and it’s a good thing. My mother wasn’t the nurturing type. We weren’t very close.”

  “Weren’t?”

  “She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Like I said, we weren’t close.”

  “Is that why you went to live with your father?”

  “Partly… How about you?” she asked. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “One brother.”

  “Really. For some reason I pictured you as an only child.” She smiled at how little she knew about him. “Does your family live in California?”

  “Uh-huh. Right in L.A. There’s no escape.”

  His tone was joking, but his eyes weren’t. “My parents and I have our differences, but they’ve given me a lot. Sometimes I forget and take them for granted.”

  In the next hour, the conversation drifted all over the place. They talked about her job, his job. She talked about Phoebe and Rose, and he talked about his partner, Rico, and some other detectives in his unit. Luke and Tex. She got the feeling his job weighed heavily on him most of the time. Dedication had that effect on a person.

  By the time they said good-night, she felt she really knew what kind of man Jordan St. James was. Honest and caring, a man whose integrity and sense of justice directed his life. Men like Jordan had been few and far between in her world.

  As she climbed the stairs, he said, “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  ***

  For Jordan, morning came too soon. And too often. Once at 2:00 a.m., again at 3:00 a.m. and now at 6:00 a.m. And each time he woke up, all he could think about was Laura. She was an admirable person, someone who cared more about others than herself. He liked her sense of humor, her forthright personality. No wondering where you stood with her. Then there were her eyes, and her soft lips, and how perfectly she fit into his arms.

  He probably shouldn’t have kissed her, but he was glad he had. He liked her; she obviously liked him. What could be the harm?

  Yeah, right. No harm at all. If he wasn’t deceiving her. If he wasn’t trying to get information from her about Kolnikov and DeMatta.

  He hadn’t actually lied to her, but he hadn’t been fully truthful, either. His motives for solving a murder and taking down a mob boss were one thing. His reasons for helping her, another. He cared about her. Cared about her and her daughter. Knowing they were in danger—and not knowing why—made him feel helpless. A feeling that burned like acid in his gut.

  Finally he got up, went to the kitchen, made some coffee and flipped on the small TV on the counter.

  “Unrelenting rains in the Valley are causing major backups on Highway 10, at the El Toro Y at 5 and 405. Mud slides in the Malibu Hills and farther north may make it necessary for residents to evacuate their homes. There are reports of heavy snow in the mountains above six thousand feet. Roads are closed on Highway 330 at Redlands and on 18 through Lucerne Valley. Don’t travel if you don’t have to.”

  Damn. He walked to the window and peered out. Snow blanketed everything, the white so bright it hurt his eyes. The pines were so heavy with snow, he couldn’t see the green. He couldn’t even see the snowman they’d made.

  Grabbing a jacket, he headed for the garage, then opened the side door. Snowdrifts. Five feet tall. One stab at the button to open the garage door told him either the mechanism was frozen, or there was too much snow against the door. He picked up a shovel, intending to cut a path from the side door, but after a couple of swipes, he realized it was futile.

  Great. His only option was to call for a snowplow, but if he couldn’t get one, he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. He pulled out his cell phone and surprisingly got a signal. After contacting headquarters to let them know he was tied up, he left a message for Mary Beth to call him if she’d had any luck getting a name for the head of the Belzar Corporation. He went back inside to look up the number for someone with a snowplow to come out.

  “Good morning,” Laura greeted him as he walked into the kitchen.

  “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

  “Like a baby. Caitlin is still asleep.”

  “Understandable. It’s early.” He indicated the coffeepot. “Would you like some?”

  “Thank you.”

  “We had a snow dump last night. The road is closed and the drifts are covering the doors.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What will you do?”

  He handed her a mug as well as a half-gallon milk carton from the refrigerator. “I contacted the captain, said I’ll be gone another day. If I can get a snowplow out here, or the sun melts some of the drifts so I can use the snowblower, I can get out.”

  “But if the roads are closed…”

  He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  Taking her mug, Laura walked to the table in the breakfast nook. “That means your cell phone works.”

  “So far so good.” He punched in the number for the plowing company and left a message. “I guess I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

  She glanced out the bank of windows. “Well, last night you said you wanted to talk. I guess this gives us the opportunity, doesn’t it?”

  He sat next to her. “About last night…”

  She looked directly at him. “I’m fine with last night. Forget about it.”

  Okay. The forget-about-it part was good. Especially since he’d come to the same conclusion. A relationship between them would only hurt her in the end. Apparently she felt the same. Good. Except for the twinge of disappointment he was suddenly feeling said he wasn’t so sure he wanted her to blow it off so easily.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, I’d like to make sure you have everything you need to stay here. And…I’d like it if you could give me more information so I can do further investigation while I’m gone. I really do want to help you resolve whatever it is that’s hanging over your head.”

  She stiffened.

  He placed a hand on hers. “This is a great place, Laura. It’s safe and secure, but you know you can’t stay here indefinitely. There’s Cait’s school…and the shelter. The reality is that you probably can’t stay anywhere long enough to make this stalker go away. Stalkers aren’t like other criminals. They keep coming back.”

  Her expression hardened. “I know. I’ve dealt with stalkers before at the shelter. But once you find out who the car belongs to, you can do something about it. Right?”

  “That’s the problem. I haven’t found out anything. The license number you gave me wasn’t traceable. We’re still working on it, but there’s no guarantee we’ll get anything. I want to help you, and to do that, I really need to know what’s going on.”

  Her face paled. Slowly, she rose to her feet, and in a low, firm voice, she said, “I can’t. I can’t tell you anything more.”

  “You can tell me who threatened you.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “I brought you here because it’s a place I knew no one would ever think to find you. But no place is safe forever. You can’t run forever, either. Think of Cait.”

  She whirled around, anger flaring in her eyes. “I always think of Cait. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t thinking of her.” Her hands on the counter, she bowed her head in frustration. Her voice cracked when she said, “She’s my life.”

  “W-what’s wrong, Mommy?”

  Both Laura and Jordan turned.

  Cait stood in the doorway in her jammies, clearly terrified.

  “Nothing’s wrong, honey. Nothing at all,” Laura said, hurrying to her daughter. “Jordan and I were simply having a discussion, and sometimes adults get loud when they discuss things.”

 

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