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  “Still think your client’s innocent, counselor?”

  Mike leaned forward. “First of all, Malcolm, you know as well as I do that you don’t ever talk about cases in public. Secondly, these personal events have nothing to do with Rowan McKinley’s innocence or guilt.”

  “Don’t they?” The waitress brought his drink and Malcolm slugged it down. “Seems pretty clear to me. The only thing I haven’t found out is who her accomplice is.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Phillip’s voice echoed in his ears. Had he shouted? Apparently not, since a glance around didn’t reveal any eavesdroppers.

  “Well, counselor, it seems pretty clear that the recent attempt on Staff Sergeant McKinley’s life wasn’t an attempt on her life but on yours.”

  “What?” The word came out in chorus from the three of them.

  Collins rested his elbows on the table and pressed forward. “Check out this scenario… She killed one man. What’s another? She knows she’s guilty. She knows she’s going to jail until hell freezes over. She has a kid she obviously doesn’t want the father to know about. She’s determined that the father not get his hands on the kid after she’s locked up, so she concocts this scheme to get him here as her defense counsel then sets up a hit.”

  Phillip stared at the man for less time than it took to blink then tossed back a belly-shaking laugh.

  “You should be writing fiction, Malcolm,” Mike said.

  “Should I?” he asked with a smirk. “Have any of you asked yourselves how well you really know Rowan McKinley? This gentleman doesn’t know her at all.” He indicated Zach, then pointed at Mike. “You’ve only known her about a year. As for her intrepid counselor here, we know how well he knows her, but people change and that was a long time ago.”

  Nine years, to be exact. Phillip’s laughter faded. He hated Collins for sowing even the smallest seed of doubt. Rowan had lied about Ian, but lying about murder entered a whole new ball game. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Would she?

  Collins polished off his drink. “Thanks for the company. I see my friends now. Have a pleasant evening, gentlemen.”

  “What a bunch of crap,” Zach said after the agent left not only them but the bar as well.

  “I’ll say,” Mike grumbled. “He stuck us with paying for his drink.”

  “Guess that divorce is taking more out of him than we thought.” Phillip tossed down the rest of his beer and set the bottle in the center of the table. “I need to go back to Rowan’s house and get my car. Someone else is going to have to drive me from there back to the base.” He fought a wave of dizziness. “I need to talk to Rowan.”

  “Not a problem.” Zach slid out from behind the booth. “I’ll make sure you get to her, but you have to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No matter what happens tonight, you won’t lose your temper.”

  When Phillip hesitated, Zach leaned forward. “Promise.”

  “All right, all right. Let’s get out of this place.”

  The combination of beer, the cool dryness of the nighttime desert air and the rocking motion of the car made Phillip drowsy. He fought sleep with every mile, determined to stay alert enough to have it out with Rowan. He rehearsed words, played out scenarios. She was nothing more than a witness on the stand—a witness whose composure he was determined to break.

  He jerked upright when Mike turned off the engine. Sleep had claimed him after all. Rubbing his eyes clear, he reached for the door handle then froze. Rowan’s van was parked beside his car.

  “What the…?”

  Mike kept the electric locks in place. “The battalion commander removed her restriction this afternoon.”

  “He can’t do that without—”

  “He can do whatever he wants,” Mike said. “He’s a lieutenant colonel.”

  “Fine. Open the damned door.”

  Zach draped his arm over the front seat and swiveled to pin Phillip with a direct stare. For once, his tone was dead serious. “You promised. Remember?”

  “That’s before I found out that I was being deliberately led around by the nose while Rowan was released. Now open the door. I have a right to an explanation.”

  “Is anything she says tonight going to make a difference to you now? It happened. It’s over. It’s in the past and you can’t change that. Accept your son and the life you can have together now and go on.”

  “Open…the…door!”

  “Your word as an officer and a gentleman?”

  Phillip flopped back in the seat. It was no use. Zach was about a million times more stubborn than any other individual he knew. It was either make the promise or stay here and rot. He felt too drunk and tired to spend the night in the back of a Matchbox car.

  “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “I promise.”

  Until I get inside that house.

  Chapter Ten

  Through the living room window, Rowan watched Phillip unfold himself from the backseat of Captain Connors’ car. He’d been drinking and it showed. Each step was cautious, as if he thought the ground would collapse beneath him. It was so unlike his normally confident stride where he owned the world and the world knew it. If her current circumstances hadn’t been so dire, the sight would have been funny.

  She wanted this done, but there would be no sense trying to talk to him tonight. He’d be unreasonable. Anything they did manage to discuss, he’d not remember come morning.

  Hugging herself against disappointment, she turned to her mother and Jess Alderman. “I’m going to bed.”

  Her mother shook her head. “You can’t avoid talking to him forever. Why don’t you get it over with?”

  “I would if those two hadn’t taken him out to drink.”

  Jess coughed into his fist. “You’re the one who wanted him gone by the time you got home.”

  “I didn’t want a confrontation in front of Ian, but I also didn’t want him snockered. He won’t listen to a word I say. And if he does, I’ll doubt he’ll remember it in the morning. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

  “When he’s hungover and defenseless,” Jess muttered.

  Her mother chuckled.

  Rowan whirled around to face them. “I’m glad this amuses the two of you.”

  “You have no one to blame but yourself,” her mom replied.

  Not exactly. There was someone else to blame. Unfortunately, at that time, Rowan had been too young and too easily intimidated. The years since then had taken care of the rest.

  The front door swung open before she could escape upstairs. She saw Oscar leap to his feet, tail wagging. It stopped in mid-swing when his master’s anger became apparent.

  Phillip jabbed a wobbly finger in her direction. “You!”

  “I refuse to speak with you when you’ve been drinking.” Rowan strode past him as he staggered in the entryway. She grabbed the banister and scooted onto the first step.

  “Apparently you refuse to speak with me whenever it pleases you.” He stomped after her. “Like nine years ago!”

  “Keep your voice down,” she snapped over her shoulder. “You’ll wake Ian.” Without another glance, she turned and started upstairs.

  The staircase shuddered behind her. “Damn it, Rowan, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you.”

  She took the stairs two at a time, anxious to put as much distance between them as possible. It wasn’t enough. His legs were longer, his determination powered by alcohol. As she closed her fingers over the doorknob, he was just a few steps behind.

  “I said wait!”

  He closed fingers of steel over her wrist. He spun her around. There was a growl from behind them that built to a snarl. Before either of them could react, eighty-five pounds of fur and muscle leaped at Phillip, knocking him forward through the doorway and pinning him to the floor with Rowan beneath.

  “Oscar!”

  His reprimand only earned another growl. Over Phillip’s shoulder, Rowan watched wide-eyed as
the dog bared his teeth. Two paws and the balance of his weight pressed down on Phillip’s back.

  Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Zach stopped inside the doorway. “Good God!”

  Phillip propped his elbows on either side of Rowan’s head to ease his weight from her. It was no use.

  “Maybe he’s trying to protect her from you,” Zach suggested.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Phillip snapped. “He’s not her dog. He’s mine. He’s supposed to be on my side.”

  But that was exactly what Oscar was doing. With each growl, Phillip’s anger grew, which only escalated the dog’s anguish. It was obvious that Oscar was torn between his love for Phillip and his desire to protect Rowan.

  Zach crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Looks and sounds like someone else wants you to keep your promise. You’d better find a way to calm down or you’ll both be there all night.”

  Phillip’s lips drew out to a thin line. He glared down at her.

  “I can’t believe you turned my dog against me.”

  “I didn’t,” she snapped back. “If you weren’t behaving like a buffoon…”

  Oscar’s amber-eyed gaze dropped to her. Her eyes widened. The dog meant business.

  Phillip lifted the corner of his mouth in a ghost of a smile. “Well, looks like I’m not the only one being told to behave. Question is, how do we get out of this predicament?”

  “He’s your dog. You do something.” Rowan wiggled in a vain attempt to find a more comfortable position. Phillip’s weight was growing heavy.

  Too late, she realized her mistake. One press of her belly to his groin brought another heat flaring to life. Her heart hammered in response. She was barely aware of her breath quickening, so intent was she on the deliciously familiar sensation rippling along her skin.

  It would be so easy to surrender, to slip her arms around his neck, to drape her legs around him.

  The anger in his face softened. Lust replaced it. His gaze caressed her face, settling on her lips. If he kissed me now…

  Still holding her captive with his hooded gaze, Phillip traced circles against the outsides of her breasts with his thumbs, stealing her breath and shooting darts of pleasure throughout her body. Rowan closed her eyes on a soft gasp. His breath was hot against her neck, his lips a half heartbeat from nipping that extra tender spot under her ear. Her heart raced with anticipation.

  Oscar shoved his nose between them and assaulted them with an intensive, indiscriminate series of dog kisses. Phillip sputtered and rolled away.

  “Oscar…” Another licking followed. Phillip wiped the back of his hand across his cheek.

  All was forgiven as far as the dog was concerned, but Rowan was too rattled to move. She flipped over and crawled to her knees then edged to her bed and leaned against it for support.

  Zach snagged the dog’s collar. “Come on, you overgrown mongrel. I think they’ve learned their lesson.”

  Phillip shoved himself to his feet, swaying slightly. “I’ll be by in the morning for Ian. We’ll be spending the weekend together at Disneyland. Do you have any problem with that?”

  His voice dared her to challenge him.

  Rowan shook her head. “He’ll be ready to go.” It came out as a croak. She was surprised it came out at all. From the corner of her eye she watched Phillip leave, shutting the door behind him.

  After pulling herself onto the bed, Rowan drew her knees to her chest. She ached everywhere their bodies had touched and especially where they had not. This is never going to work. The wanting had been bad enough when they were on congenial terms. Now the undercurrent of old wounds was forcing them together in a state of heightened emotions.

  Rowan didn’t think she was strong enough to resist—didn’t know if she wanted to. Visions of muscled thighs and a rock-hard stomach passed through her mind. What was a career compared with the passion they’d once had?

  Had. That was the operative word. It was in the past, washed away by the years in between. Any reaction he had to her nearness tonight was nothing more than second-nature. After all, he was just a man—a very passionate man.

  And she was just a woman—a woman who had made more than her share of mistakes and been forced to live with them. A woman now, no longer a girl bullied by a narrow-minded, selfish old man. She banged the bed frame with her fist, yet her frustration remained.

  Damn the beer. She should rush right down those stairs and tell Phillip everything. He was calmer now. Surely he’d listen. A smile tugged at her lips. Oscar and Zach would see that he did.

  She hurried to the window. His car was already gone. Perhaps it was just as well. It would give him time to cool down and sober up. Give them both the time to take a giant step back from what they had almost let happen just now. She’d catch him in the morning before he left with Ian.

  There was a scratch at her door. Rowan opened it and Oscar slinked into her room, whining. With the most apologetic look she guessed he could muster, he draped himself along the floor beside her bed.

  Rowan stretched out next to him and rubbed his chest. “I know how you feel, boy.”

  After a few minutes, she slipped into her nightshirt, crawled into bed and turned out the light. Another long, sleepless night was going to keep her up. She just knew it.

  She glanced down beside the bed. Two plaintive eyes reflected silver in the moonlight. Patting the edge of the mattress, she smiled and said, “Come on up. You’ve earned it.”

  The bed sagged with Oscar’s weight as he snuggled next to her.

  “Do you mind telling me exactly what we’re doing?” Zach asked.

  Phillip watched the light in Rowan’s bedroom go out. He’d be damned if he knew what he was doing. All he had wanted was for Zach to stop the car off the dirt road in a turn-around a few hundred yards from the house and let him think for a minute or two. The cool desert air helped clear his head and focus his thoughts. Zach had stayed quiet until now.

  “I was wondering if leaving Jess and Mike there for surveillance will be enough protection for Rowan, Ian and Emma.” A lie, but maybe it would be enough to keep Zach off his back.

  “They’ll be fine.”

  Phillip’s head spun with images of Rowan beneath him, rubbing against him. He’d been hard with want the instant it had happened. Thinking about it only made the ache worse. There was no doubt about it. If not for Oscar, the two of them would be making love right now and damn the consequences.

  “Snap out of it,” Zach said. “You’re treading on dangerous ground and you know it.”

  He knew it all right, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself, much less Zach.

  “You were ready to fuck her. If that stupid dog of yours hadn’t butted in, you would have.”

  Phillip scratched at the stubble along his cheek. His alcoholic haze was quickly fading, leaving the start of a throbbing headache. “Oscar’s not stupid.”

  “After what I saw tonight, I may have to agree with you. In fact, I’d say he’s a lot smarter than either of you. I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that. You wanted her. You still want her and you still love her, no matter what she’s done now or in the past. You admitted that in the bar tonight.”

  “Wrong. I despise her.” Another lie. Angry, yes. Angrier than he’d ever been before. But despise? Never.

  “Just as extreme an emotion as love. You hate what she did, but you’re so crazy in love with her that you can’t even think straight. My God, Phillip, we’re talking professional suicide here. She’s an enlisted Marine. She’s your client.”

  Phillip watched a gray Ford pickup cruise past them. Zach was on a roll. There was no stopping the lecture. “She’s Ian’s mother. I can’t avoid her. We have a child to raise.”

  “Then raise him—separately. Stay as far away from Rowan McKinley as you can or you can both kiss your military careers good-bye. And you might as well ask yourself another question.”

  He was worse than a parent. Phillip sighed. “What’s that?”
>
  “How in the hell can you objectively defend this woman?”

  Phillip had already been asking himself that question. The way he felt right now, thinking about Ian and the time they had been denied… A part of him wanted Rowan to hang, to spend each and every day of the rest of her life in prison. At the same time, he wanted to hold her slender body in his arms and make love to her on that king-size bed until they both collapsed from exhaustion. Rage, lust, hurt, exhilaration—it was a heady combination.

  Zach snorted. “The command is going to have a field day over this. You know it won’t take long for our colonel to find out about Ian. He probably already has. You should have seen the look on Laura’s face when she saw that kid. She’s going to demand you be released from the trial—and you should be.”

  The pickup slipped by once more. The headlights momentarily blinded them. Phillip welcomed the distraction.

  “I’ll take care of Laura,” he said.

  “And who’s going to take care of you?” The question came with the force of a knife thrust.

  A hot glare from Phillip wasn’t enough to make Zach stand down. Nothing could when he was lecturing.

  “Do you want me to defend her?”

  Phillip sucked in a breath, hoping it would clear the growing ache in his head. It only made him dizzy. “I’m a professional, Zach. I’ll defend her.”

  “Objectively? To the utmost of your ability? No matter what she may have done?”

  “No matter what.” Phillip stared at the house, all dark now. “Zach, you don’t think she would really have me killed, do you?”

  “Malcolm’s big theory sounds far-fetched to me,” he replied. “Even if she was guilty, why bother to have you killed? You never would have known anything about the boy if she hadn’t asked you here. If she had gone to prison, her mother would have raised Ian and you would have been none the wiser.”

  “Then why would Collins suggest it?”

  Zach shrugged. “He’s probably angry because you brought his botched investigative efforts to light and he wants to get even. From what Mike told me, Collins didn’t do one thing right with that crime scene.”