Tami Hoag - Heart of Gold

“Is the apology accepted?”

She nodded but didn’t look at him. Was he apologizing only for his belief in her culpability or for the kiss as well?

Overhead the sound began. Ker-thump… ker-thump… ker-thump…

Shane tensed. Faith smiled. “It’s Captain Dugan.”

He stared at her as if she’d suddenly begun speaking Portuguese. “Who?”

“The man who built the place.”

“He’s dead.” His statement held all the finality of the fact.

Faith rolled her eyes. “I know that. It’s his ghost. Ask anyone in Anastasia. They’ll all tell you the same thing. This house is haunted.”

“Californians,” Shane grumbled, scowling darkly.

“Skeptic,” Faith countered. A man like Shane Callan wouldn’t believe in anything that couldn’t be admitted as evidence in a court of law. She suddenly found the trait oddly endearing and decided she was losing her marbles. “Of course it’s Captain Dugan. He had a peg leg. The other ghosts here don’t make any racket at all.”

Shane’s brows lifted. No one had warned him he would be guarding a crazy woman. “Other ghosts?”

Faith’s look was one of feminine wisdom and mystery. “You don’t believe in ghosts, do you, Mr. Callan?”

Not the kind that haunted houses, he thought. He knew well the ghosts that haunted one’s soul were all too real, but dead sea captains with peg legs were a whole different thing.

He frowned at Faith as he rose from the piano bench, his head swimming as he did so. He ignored the dizziness as he had all day. It was nothing more than fatigue.

Easing his gun from its holster, he said dryly, “I believe in justice, football, and Smith and Wesson. Go to your room, lock your door, and stay put.”

Faith shook her head as she watched him leave. Of all the cops in the world she had to get stuck with Dirty Harry. And darn it, she had a terrible feeling she was falling for him.

“THE STRESS IS making you irrational,” Faith muttered to herself as she paced the width of her bedroom. “That’s the only logical explanation. You’re not really falling for Shane Callan.”

Her entire body seemed to reject the statement she’d just made. An ominous sense of certainty descended on her.

She had to admit the physical attraction had been there from the beginning, from the minute she’d opened the front door and looked up into his silver eyes, from the instant she’d first heard his sexy bedroom voice. She hadn’t been able to deny it even when he had all but accused her of treason.

Lust. There wasn’t anything rational or logical about it.

But this was more than mere lust.

Faith’s slim shoulders rose and fell with her sigh of defeat. She couldn’t have picked a more difficult man if she had held auditions for the part. Shane was jaded, sardonic, a loner… he was battered and tired and alone. Just the memory of him sitting at the piano, pouring out feelings he would never have revealed otherwise, brought a pang to Faith’s heart. There were no two ways about it-the darn man needed love.

“But I don’t have to be the one to give it to him,” she declared with a shake of her head, half wishing he’d never apologized to her for suspecting she was in on the DataTech conspiracy.

At least before his apology his suspicion had been an effective barrier between them. Now that wall was gone. Now Faith knew there was a lot more to Shane than what pleasingly met the eye. Now she was in real peril.

She had a wealth of love inside her, stored up from years of being married to a man who had looked on her as nothing more than an asset. But she knew she would have to be a fool to try to give those feelings to a man like Shane.

Shane Callan was a dangerous stranger, there because it was his job to protect her. Their lives would run on the same track only until the DataScam trial. In a matter of weeks Shane would be gone to fight someone else’s battles. To become involved with him would only be asking to have her heart broken.

No, Faith announced inwardly, she wouldn’t make that mistake. She had settled there to rebuild her life, not to tear it apart all over again.

A knock at her door jolted her from her brooding. Alaina stuck her head in the room. “I just got in and saw your light. Is something going on?”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Rambo is upstairs trying to hunt down Captain Dugan.”

Alaina’s wry smile tilted up one side of her lush mouth as she came in and closed the door behind her. “I don’t suppose it did you any good to explain to him about the captain?”

“A complete waste of good breath. The man has a head harder than granite.” And the rest of him wasn’t exactly Play-Doh, either. The thought sneaked into her conscious mind from her memory, bringing a telltale flush to her cheeks.

“He’s not the type to believe in things he can’t point a gun at,” Alaina said.

Like love and romance. Faith cursed her brain for letting thoughts like that form and surface. She resumed her pacing, hoping the movement, coupled with the dim light in the room, would keep Alaina from reading too much in her expression. Her friend had an uncomfortably sharp eye when it came to reading people.

“Well.” Alaina shrugged, sticking her hands in the pockets of her red cashmere cardigan. “He’ll find out for himself that there’s nothing up there worth arresting. He can’t very well slap handcuffs on an apparition. How’s Lindy? Still itching?”

Faith smiled in appreciation for the change of subject. Her whole body relaxed visibly as she leaned against the carved cherry foot post of her canopied bed. “She’s much better tonight. This might be the world’s easiest case of chicken pox, which means I have something to be grateful for after all. How was the movie?”

It was Alaina’s turn to roll her eyes. “Let me give you a piece of sound advice,” she said, prowling the small bedroom as if it were a courtroom and Faith a juror who needed to hear a convincing argument. Her elegant hands moved in harmony to emphasize her words. “Never go to the movies with a film critic. Our dear friend Jayne, whom I find to be perfectly pleasant in most respects, is a fanatic. She takes her vocation much too seriously.”

“She didn’t like the movie?”

“Roget’s Thesaurus doesn’t hold as many synonyms for the word bad,” Alaina said dryly.

As if summoned, a head of rich auburn waves poked into the room. “Is there something exciting going on?”

On cue a thud sounded overhead. Alaina grinned and motioned her inside. “You’ll love this. Callan is upstairs playing ghostbusters.”

“Bad casting,” Jayne said, making a face as she slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. “I have serious doubts about Faith’s Mr. Callan playing comedy. He doesn’t seem particularly fun loving. My guess is he’s a Capricorn.”

“He’s not my Mr. Callan.” Faith protested so quickly the words seemed to tumble over each other on their way out of her mouth. She looked on in horror as her friends exchanged a significant glance. “I mean, he’s here because of me, but I don’t want him. I mean, I don’t want him here. Not that I’d want him anywhere.”

She groaned under her breath and knocked her forehead against the bedpost. She’d just managed to make it fairly obvious that she was attracted to the man. She jumped as Jayne’s hand settled gently on her shoulder.

“Honey, if you’d ever care to translate that into understandable English, I’d be more than willing to listen.” Jayne shot a questioning look at Alaina, who physically backed away from the topic.

“Don’t look at me for advice on this. I’m a lawyer. I’m the last person you want to talk to about romance, unless it concerns community property.”