Roz Denny Fox - The Baby Cop

That garnered a laugh from Regan. “My former fiancé ran five miles every morning before he went to the gym. He couldn’t stand the thought of me sleeping in while he went out to sweat. I learned to keep up. It was either that or forever after listen to how weak women are.”

“Nice guy. Is that why he’s your former fiancé?”

Realizing she’d let something private slip, Regan dropped her affable manner. “I believe we came here to discuss Jeremy Smith’s situation and that of other children stalled in the foster-care system.”

The glimmer of interest aimed at Regan stayed in Odella’s warm brown eyes for another moment. “Before we get down to business, let me extend an invitation to meet me anytime to jog, hike or bike. My kids are grown. They’re all too busy with their own lives to join me anymore. Roger, my husband, said he had to punish his body every day of the twenty-five years he served Uncle Sam. Now that he’s retired, he prefers getting his exercise pruning our cactus. I guess you know how slowly cacti grow.”

“I don’t enjoy hiking alone,” Regan murmured. “In Phoenix I had friends who regularly hiked Squaw Peak. Or sometimes we’d drive to Prescott on the weekend to climb Thumb Butte. I haven’t inquired about trails here.”

“There are some nice ones in the Catalina Foothills. Mount Lemmon offers more strenuous routes.” Odella pulled a business card out of her suit pocket and shoved it across Regan’s desk. “I won’t bug you. But here’s my home phone number if you’re ever in the mood. And, Regan, for the record, I leave work at the office.”

Regan turned the business card over in her fingers several times before relaxing enough to tuck it into her pocket. “I’ve missed hiking. The weather lately has been perfect for it. There’s something about mountain air—it refreshes the mind and rejuvenates the soul. We’ll have to set something up for a weekend soon. I’ve been spending far too much time inside since I moved to Desert City.”

“Good.” Odella leaned forward. “Now, about Jeremy’s current status—” She was interrupted by a heavy footfall outside the door, followed by feminine giggles and deeper male laughter.

“Let me shut my door so we’ll have more privacy, Odella.” Regan rose and circled her desk. She’d gripped the knob, starting to pull the door inward when pointed black ears, a dark muzzle and lolling pink tongue appeared in front of her. Regan felt the floor shift and spin. Her legs refused to carry her backward as her mind screamed at her to do it and do it quickly.

Odella, who’d rotated in her chair, clucked happily. “Well, if it isn’t the Tasmanian Devil himself.” Climbing to her feet, she hastened across the room to rub the dog’s head and pat his wriggling hindquarters. “Is that your handsome master causing a ruckus in the hall? Where Taz is, Ethan’s not far behind,” she said, aiming a broad smile at Regan. Her eyes encountered a blank stare and a body so stiff it could have been carved from marble.

“Regan?” The question fell on deaf ears.

Ethan had paused across the hall at the open lounge door to chat with Nicky Mason, who was on her way out with a full cup of coffee. He spun when he heard his name. Realizing Regan’s door stood open, he excused himself from Nicole and called Taz sharply to heel.

The dog appeared on cue and sat. But rather than a furious Regan Grant flying out of the supervisory office, Odella Price emerged wearing a panicked expression. Ethan knew what had caused the look, and he suffered a stab of guilt. He’d intended to leave Taz in the SUV. He’d forgotten and had let the dog follow him inside the building out of habit.

“Nicky, could you keep Taz at the reception desk while I complete my business with Regan? I won’t be long.” In truth, Ethan couldn’t remember why he’d come. He’d been visiting schools today…. Oh, yes, the recipe she wanted. Yet he certainly hadn’t planned to make a special trip to CHC for that. He could, he supposed, blame it on a slow morning. Mitch had an early-morning court appointment to testify in the case of a local car salesman who’d been jailed for being drunk and disorderly. The guy had smacked his girlfriend around a bar parking lot. It was the joker’s third arrest in six months for the same thing. Different girlfriend, same charge. Mitch hoped to accomplish more than put the jerk on probation this time.

“Sure, Ethan. I love Taz. Hey—I heard you and Taz are participating in another endurance test.” Her red-slicked mouth formed a pretty pout. “If it’s this weekend, I’m free to be your cheering section.”

“Uh…it’s not that soon.” Ethan stumbled over his tongue. By now he’d reached the doorway where Odella stood. Behind her, Ethan saw the white-faced woman he’d considered inviting to go with him to Taz’s Schutzhund. Ever since Regan had refused to get out of her car until he’d restrained Taz, Ethan entertained a crazy notion that watching the dogs work might shake Regan Grant out of her nutty fear.

Observing her statuelike pose and her sightless eyes, Ethan quickly dismissed his plan. Nutty her fear might be to someone like him, but Regan’s terror was certainly real to her.

Ethan moved in close to her rigid body. Not positive she’d heard Taz’s receding pad-pad as the dog followed Nicole around the corner, Ethan felt a need to reassure Regan. “It’s okay. He’s gone. The dog left.” Ethan spoke softly and touched her chin, bringing the glassy blue eyes level with his own.

Regan identified Ethan Knight through a haze of fear. Her right hand curved tightly around her neck, hiding the thin scar she knew tended to stand out more when color flooded her face. She knew because Jack said people wouldn’t notice her disfigurement if she didn’t draw attention to it. It wasn’t until after their split that Regan realized Jack Diamond surrounded himself with perfection. She did owe him something. If not for his constant badgering, she’d never have had the last plastic surgery. Thanks to new laser techniques, what had once been ugly red welts were now faint white lines. But not even lasers were effective against unseen damage.

Her feelings surrounding the long-ago incident left her weak and vulnerable in areas she didn’t wish exposed to co-workers. Or to the likes of Ethan Knight. Wearing his uniform today, he looked especially imposing and very male. Too male.

Collecting her wits, Regan released her grip on the doorknob. She stepped back in an attempt to gather her tattered nerves. “Who’s gone?” she queried coolly. “Odella and I were trying to have a private conversation. Your dilly-dallying in the hall with Nicole disturbed us. If you’ll excuse us, we’d like to get on with our business.” Edging him into the hall, Regan began closing Ethan out.

He and Odella exchanged questioning glances. “I, uh, thought you might be concerned about seeing Taz close-up again.”

“I don’t like to be sniffed and licked, that’s all.”

Ethan donned a reckless seductive grin. Ignoring Odella, who watched his antics with interest, Ethan propped a broad shoulder against the door casing, crowding Regan in a way that was masculine and intimate. “Now if that was a true statement,” he said pleasantly, letting a lethally hot gaze follow the tip of his forefinger as he dusted the top three pearl buttons of Regan’s white blouse, “you wouldn’t buy perfume designed to turn a man’s insides out. Or man-tailored blouses that leave a guy itching to know what’s underneath.”

Despite the tight rein Regan had clamped on her nerves, she wasn’t able to prevent a surge of heat from racing to her stomach. For all that she didn’t miss about her former fiancé, she’d enjoyed the sex. Or she had until the extent of Jack’s infidelities came to light, forcing her to undertake the humiliating experience of explaining to her doctor why she needed HIV testing. If seeing her name on the vials of blood wasn’t sobering enough, the weeks of waiting for the tests to come back clear should have made her swear off men. Especially men whose egos seemed to need proof that they could conquer every woman they met. And policemen headed the list. Hadn’t Ethan Knight just been in the hall putting moves on Nicole Mason?