Nora Roberts - Private scandals

"I think I can handle you alone." She crossed the lot with him, hoping the meeting would be brief. The wind was bitterly cold and she didn't relish speaking with him. "Since I can't think of anything we'd have to discuss on a personal level, I assume you wanted to talk to me about Angela."

"It would have been difficult for you. Finding her."

"Yes, it was."

"I could help you." "Professionally?" Her brow quirked. The wind, and anger, brought color to her cheeks, a snap to her eyes. "No thanks. Tell me what you want."

For the moment, he stared at her. She was still perfect. Fresh, seductive. All luminous eyes and moist lips. "Have dinner with me," he said at last. "The French place you always liked so much."

"Marshall, please." There was no anger in her voice, only pity. It scraped like rusty blades over his ego.

"Oh yes, I seem to have forgotten to congratulate you on your engagement to our dashing correspondent."

"Thank you. Is that all?"

"I want the file." At her blank look he tightened his grip. "Don't pretend you don't understand. I know Angela gave you a copy of her investigator's report on me. She told me. She gloated over it. I didn't ask for it before because I'd hoped that you'd come to realize what I could offer you. Now, under the circumstances, I need it."

"I don't have it."

Rage darkened his face. "You're lying. She gave it to you."

"Yes, she did." Her arm was throbbing now, but she refused to struggle. "Do you really think I would have kept it all this time? I destroyed it ages ago."

He gripped both her arms now, nearly lifting her off her feet. "I don't believe you."

"I don't give a damn what you believe. I don't have it." More furious than frightened, she struggled against him. "Can't you understand I didn't care enough to keep it? You weren't important enough."

"Bitch." Too incensed to think clearly, he dragged her toward his car. "You won't hold that file over my head." He grunted, his wing tips skittering on the pavement as he was yanked from behind. He went down painfully, bruising his hip and his dignity.

"No, Tim, don't." Though she was shaking, Deanna grabbed her driver's arm before he could haul Marshall to his feet and knock him down all over again.

Tim adjusted his bulky coat, seeing Marshall was quelled. "You okay, Miss Reynolds?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Hey!" A baseball cap shielding his eyes, a camera on his shoulder, Joe raced across the lot. "Dee? You okay?"

"Yes." She pressed a hand to her temple as Marshall got to his feet. Perfect, she thought. Pictures at ten. "Yes, I'm okay."

"I was just pulling into the lot when I saw this guy hassling you." Joe's eyes narrowed. "The shrink, right?" He slapped a hand on Marshall's chest before Marshall could step toward his car. "Hold on, pal. Dee, you want me to call the cops, or should Tim and I just show this creep what happens to men who push women around?"

"Just let him go."

"Sure?"

She looked into Marshall's eyes. There was something dead in them now, but she couldn't find any pity. "Yes. Let him go."

"The lady's giving you a break," Joe muttered. "If I catch you bothering her again, I won't be so nice."

Silently, Marshall got into his car. He locked the doors, fastened his seat belt, before driving out of the lot.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you, Miss Reynolds?"

"No, he didn't. Thank you, Tim." "No problem." Tim sauntered proudly back to the car.

"I wish you'd let me punch him." Joe gave a regretful sigh before looking back at Deanna. "Spooked you, huh?" He glanced at the camera on his shoulder, grimaced. "I got so pissed I didn't get any tape of it."

That, at least, was something. "I guess there's no point in my asking you not to mention this in the newsroom."

He grinned as he walked her to her car. "No point at all. News is news."

She didn't want to tell Finn, but they'd made a deal. No holding back. She'd hoped Finn would have to work late, but as luck would have it, he opened the door and greeted her with a long, sloppy kiss.

"Hiya." "Hi yourself." She rocked back on her heels and gave Cronkite the caress he was whining for.

"We had a change in schedule, so I got home a little early." The change in schedule had been canceling all of his appointments and spending his afternoon with Jenner reading through Beeker's files. "Made dinner."

Cooperating, Deanna sniffed the air. "Smells great."

"New recipe." With one brow cocked, he tipped a finger under her chin. "What?"

"What, what?"

"You're upset."

She scowled and pushed his hand away. "Damn it, Finn, that's irritating. Don't you know a woman likes to think she has some mystery?" Still hoping to stall, she peeled out of her coat and hung it on the hall rack.

"What happened, Kansas?"

"We'll talk about it later. I'm starving." He merely shifted and blocked her path. "Spill it."

She could argue, but since an argument was precisely what she was hoping to avoid, what was the point?

"Will you promise to hear me out and not overreact?"

"Sure." He smiled at her as he swung an arm around her shoulders and led her to the steps. They sat together near the bottom landing, with the dog happily at their feet. "Is it about Angela?"

"Not directly." She blew out a long breath. "It was Marshall. He sort of ambushed me in the parking lot."

"Ambushed?"

His icy tone alerted her. But when she looked up at Finn, his eyes seemed calm enough. Curious, a little annoyed, but calm. "Just a figure of speech. He was upset. You know I haven't returned his calls." When Finn said nothing, she let the rest tumble out. "He was just angry and upset, that's all. About that. And about the files Angela had sent to me. I told you about them. Marshall has it in his head that I kept them. Of course, with the investigation going on he's worried. Naturally."

"Naturally," Finn said pleasantly. He'd hear about the rest anyway, Deanna reminded herself. From Joe, or someone else in the newsroom. That would be worse. "We had a little scuffle."

There was a dangerous light in Finn's eyes. "Did he put his hands on you?"

Deanna shrugged, hoping to lighten the mood. "In a manner of speaking. It was really just one of those push-shove sort of things. But Tim was there," she added quickly. "And Joe. So it was nothing. It was really nothing."

"He put his hands on you," Finn repeated. "And he threatened you?"

"I don't know that I'd call it a threat. It was just — Finn!" He was already up, removing his coat from the rack. "Finn, damn it, you said you'd be reasonable."

He shot her one look, one stunningly frigid look that had her heart stopping. "I lied."

Her knees were knocking together, but she was on his heels as he strode out of the house. The cold and the look in Finn's eye had her teeth chattering as she struggled into her coat. "Stop this now. Right now! What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go explain to Pike why he should keep his hands off my woman."

"Your woman?" That tore it. She bounded ahead of him, slapping both hands onto his chest. "Don't you pull that macho bullshit on me, Finn Riley. I'm not going to…"

Her voice slid back down her throat when he propped his hands under her elbows and lifted her off the ground. His eyes were blazing.

"You are my woman, Deanna. That's not an insult, that's a fact. Anybody who manhandles you, anybody who threatens you has to deal with me. That's another fact. Got a problem with it?"

"No. Yes." Her feet hit the ground with a thump and she ground her teeth. "I don't know." How was she supposed to think when all she could see were those furious, deadly eyes boring into her. "Let's go back inside and talk this through reasonably."

"We'll talk when I get back."

She raced to the car after him. "I'm going with you." There was still a chance, a slim one, that she could talk him down.