As she stepped out of the cell, she knew that handling Danny’s case wasn’t a good idea. It could really mess up Jericho’s prosecution, but she knew in her heart that Danny wasn’t responsible for Mrs. LePlante’s death. She was going to prove it.
She had no doubt that Stephen would handle Danny’s case. Another violation against her sworn duty as a criminalist in service to San Diego, but she also couldn’t go against her conscience, which dictated to her that if she turned her back on Danny right now, he’d be convicted of the LePlante murder and be sent to prison. She couldn’t let that happen to him, no matter what the repercussions meant to her job or her personal life.
Danny was all alone and had nobody to look out for him. That left her, and if she buckled under the pressure of her job or Jericho’s orders against what she believed, who would that make her?
Not anyone she would like at all.
* * *
It wasn’t what she’d expected, Kate thought as she ascended the steps leading to the two-story brownstone’s front porch. The beds of begonias and marigolds that lined his walk surprised her. Jericho didn’t seem the type to notice small things like flowers. The wooden swing hanging by chains from the porch was also a surprise. Relaxation didn’t seem to be a word in Jericho’s vocabulary; his intensity was part of his genetic makeup, like his hair and eye color.
She found out that Jericho didn’t do anything by halves. Something inside her made her want to push him beyond that tightly controlled persona to show what was inside him. Peel away the layers until she found the man beneath.
She walked across the porch and then paused in the spill of white light from a crystal and black wrought-iron lamp. She was certain he was home; a sleek, black Mercedes he’d driven and pegged him to a T sat in the driveway. All the house windows were dark except for a small amount of light that peeked out of a basement window.
Her mother had taught her never to show up on someone’s porch step. But she hadn’t wanted to give Jericho a heads-up. It was late, sometime after midnight, and she could have waited to tell him that she should be removed from the case.
But it was more than confessing to him that she wasn’t fit to continue with this investigation and certainly shouldn’t be put on the witness stand. She’d craved him all afternoon. Her desire gnawed at her.
Kate slid her hand to the tight muscles in the back of her neck. Her mind should be on what she had to do, not on Jericho, the man. She was putting herself on the line for Danny because she believed in his innocence. It was in direct conflict with her job. He had to know that she was compromised and not objective at all.
Expelling a slow breath, Kate raised a shaking hand, lifted the ornate knocker, and let it fall.
Minutes later the hall light snapped on, flashing through the three panes of glass at the top of the heavy oak door, illuminating the porch in bright light. The dead bolt above the doorknob disengaged with an abrupt snick, then the door swung open.
Kate found herself facing a half-naked, lethal Jericho in tight gray shorts and a white sleeveless T-shirt. A fine sheen misted his body, his hair wet and slicked back off his face.
He certainly was…big, she thought inanely, feeling suffocated by his closeness. He was taller than her, but she had no idea that the impeccably tailored suit had covered this.
His shoulders were so broad they blocked her view of the room. His arms bulged with muscles, as did his chest, which the damp T-shirt clung to revealingly. The power was echoed in the long ropes of muscles in his legs and calves. She fidgeted in spite of herself. Something about all his masculinity intimidated her. Until she looked into his eyes and saw that intensity trained on her. He was going to change her. She knew that, but how and when made her edgy and nervous. It was a change she craved yet feared. She knew who she was, but had always dreamed about who she could be if only…
“Kate? Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
He moved out of the way so that she could step into the foyer. The rug beneath her feet was Oriental and cost a fortune. There was a small occasional table made out of a rich mahogany wood with a mirror over it in the foyer. She caught a glimpse of herself in its polished surface. She looked tired, bone tired. Her hair was a mess.
She grabbed at her hair, trying to smooth it into place.
“What’s wrong, Kate?” His eyes followed her fingers as they worked through her hair.
“I asked Stephen Castle to represent Danny.”
His eyes flew to her face. “Youwhat?”
“He’s doing it pro bono,but the bottom line is I still asked him. He’s doing it as a favor to me.”
Jericho closed his eyes and ran his hands through his damp hair. “Come in,” he said brusquely. “We can talk in the living room.”
Fatigue weighted her as she followed him down the long-carpeted hallway past the dining room with its hardwood floor, another more luxurious Oriental rug and thick dark furnishings.
When they stepped into the spacious living room, she took the measure of the beautiful room from the couch and chairs upholstered in a cream-and-red fabric, the tapestry pillows that matched the rug spread out over the polished wooden floor to the breathtaking carved fireplace.
He nodded toward the couch. “Have a seat.”
“Are you going to stand?”
“Considering I’m all sweaty from working out, yes.”