Banning's Woman Page 4

  They were greeted at the door by a smiling hostess who called Chris by name. “You’re late, Captain Banning. You’re usually our first customer.”

  “Yeah. I had to take care of a tough assignment this morning.” He winked at Bren as they were led to a table for two overlooking a pretty patio where autumn leaves drifted from a towering oak.

  After filling their cups with steaming coffee and handing them menus, the hostess left them alone.

  Chris had no need to read the menu. He set it aside before lifting his head to study Bren. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in Congress?”

  Bren managed a laugh. “I guess I was a bit overwhelmed. It was the first time I’d ever faced an armed man. My brain cells were temporarily frozen. Why didn’t you tell me you were a police captain?”

  “Must have slipped my mind.”

  She tossed her head. “I doubt that too much gets past that steel-trap mind of yours. You were a formidable foe on Meet the Media.”

  “That’s what the chief was hoping. Of course, he’s well aware that I was captain of my debate team at Georgetown.” He sipped his coffee. “Where’d you do your debating?”

  “What makes you think I did?”

  “You’re too good.”

  She laughed. “Okay. You caught me. Princeton. We took top honors my senior year.”

  “With you as captain, no doubt.”

  She nodded. Her smile faded as she ran her finger around and around the rim of her cup. “I don’t mean to make light of what happened last night. My mother isn’t the only one who’s grateful, Chris. I never properly thanked you for saving my life.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  She gave an involuntary shudder. “When I think what might have happened…”

  He laid a hand over hers, stilling her movements. “Don’t go there. There’s nothing to be gained by playing that mind game. It’s over now. That’s what’s important.”

  “I know.” At the touch of his hand she felt a quick rush of heat and wondered if he did, too. “I did enough of that last night.”

  “You should have taken my advice and phoned someone to come over and keep you company.”

  She nodded. “In hindsight, I know you’re right. But I hated the thought of someone hovering over me all night long.”

  His smile was quick and dangerous. “I’ll bet there are a dozen guys who’d fight for the privilege.”

  Bren laughed. “Sorry. Only half a dozen that I know of.”

  “Give me their names, and I’ll have them all arrested.”

  They were both laughing when the waitress came to take their order.

  When she walked away, Chris drained his coffee cup. “What made you go into politics?”

  Bren fiddled with her spoon. “It wasn’t planned. I thought briefly about following my grandfather and father into police work.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “First of all, there’s my size.”

  That had him laughing. “Yeah. I can’t think of too many cops who’d want to partner with a pint-size female, even though I must say you’d look great in a uniform.”

  She joined in his laughter. “Thanks. And then there’s my attitude toward guns.”

  “So why politics?”

  “I went to law school, and had every intention of practicing with a firm.” She looked up. “My mother went back to law school after my father died, and works as a family advocate in the District. My brother Cameron followed her lead, and though he works full-time in one of the city’s top firms, he also works pro bono on a few cases each year. I admire him for that and thought I’d follow suit, but—” she shrugged “—I changed courses after working for Congressman Harrison one summer. I saw the way he fought for his constituents, and the difference one man could make. And when he decided not to run again because of ill health, I jumped in, even though I figured I didn’t have a prayer of a chance of winning.”

  “Next thing you knew, you were the freshman congresswoman from Maryland.”

  “Yeah. I still haven’t figured out which hallway leads to which chamber. I’m still trying to complete my staff, and I’ve already been appointed to my first committee.”

  “And making speeches heard around the world.”

  She flushed. “My speech wasn’t nearly as tough on the police as it sounded in those newscasts. They took a couple of sound bytes and made it out to be my entire speech.”

  He frowned. “I’ve had my share of media exposure. They can put some pretty interesting spins on words.”

  They fell silent as the waitress arrived with their order.

  As they dug into their omelets, Bren sighed. “Oh, this is wonderful. It may be even better than Pop’s.” Seeing Chris lift an eyebrow she explained, “My grandfather moved in after my dad was shot, and became our full-time cook, cleaner and housekeeper.”

  “Your mom didn’t mind?”

  Bren shook her head. “She often says that Pop saved her life, and we saved his. We were all in a state of shock. I guess none more than Pop, who’d just buried his only son. My brothers and I gave him a reason to live. And he kept all of us in food and clean clothes. Also in line. No one ever talked back to Kieran Lassiter and lived to tell about it.”

  “I think I’d like to meet your grandfather.”

  “You’d like him. And he’d like you.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Her smile was quick. “It’s a cop thing.”

  “Yeah. We do tend to stick together.” He smiled at the waitress who topped off their cups before handing him the bill. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What kind of name is Mary Brendan?”

  She laughed. “After two sons, my father expected another boy. Brendan was his grandfather’s name. When I was born, he just tacked on Mary, and left it at that.”

  “And that was fine with your mother?”

  Bren nodded. “Anything my father wanted was fine with my mother. Theirs really was a love match.”

  She saw a strange mix of emotions cross his face before he composed himself.

  Minutes later their waitress returned to clear their table and take his credit card.

  Chris sat back, obviously content after his meal. “Can you take the rest of the day to play?”

  Bren sighed. “I wish. I have so many committee reports to read, I may go blind.”

  “Sounds like a fun afternoon.”

  “What about you? Is this a day off?”

  “Sort of. It will be after I drop by the office to complete last night’s report and go over the interrogation of your attacker. I figure by now he’s probably climbing the walls of his cell and hoping a lawyer can get him out so he can get a hit of something to take the edge off.”

  Bren looked alarmed. “They won’t release him, will they?”

  Chris lay a hand over hers. “Relax. Now that it’s all over the news that he attacked a member of our esteemed Congress, there’s no chance a judge will let him out on bail.”

  She gave a visible sigh of relief.

  “Come on.” Chris held her chair before leading the way across the room.

  Outside, the air had a bite to it, even though the sun had burst through the clouds.

  As Chris turned the ignition and headed back to the television studio, Bren studied his hands on the wheel. There was such power in them. When he’d come to her rescue, he’d become, in that moment, her white knight. She could swear she’d heard her attacker’s bones snapping like twigs. When it was over, she’d wanted, more than anything, to fling herself into this man’s arms and beg him to hold her.

  Safe. When he’d dropped an arm around her in the elevator, she’d felt as though nothing could possibly harm her.

  “Here we are.”

  She looked up to see that they were already in the parking lot of the TV studio. Chris came around and held her door while offering his hand.

  She had no choice but to put her hand in his. At once she felt the sizzle of heat along her arm. She kept her smile in pl
ace. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome.” Instead of moving back, he remained where he was, so that their bodies were almost touching. “I’d like to see you again. Is there someone significant in your life?”

  She decided to keep it light. “Well, you know about my mother and grandfather. I also have three brothers and two sisters-in-law. Is that enough significant people in one life?”

  “Yeah. More than enough. And none of them what I’d consider competition.”

  “You don’t like competition?”

  “I thrive on it. But I’m not interested in another man’s woman.” His hands were moving along her arms, sending the most delicious tingles along her spine. “And now that I know there isn’t a husband or significant other…”

  Without warning he laid a hand on her cheek and stared deeply into her eyes as he brushed her lips with his. It was the merest touch of mouth to mouth, but he saw her eyes widen before the lashes fluttered, then closed. Heard her little sigh of surprise before her breath mingled with his and her lips softened, then opened to him.

  Sensing her compliance, his arms came around her, dragging her firmly against him. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that had the breath backing up in her throat.

  His lips were warm and firm as they moved over hers, taking with a possessiveness that shocked her. What shocked her even more was her response. A sound like a whimper escaped her throat. She reached a hand to his chest to hold him at bay. The next thing she knew, her fingers were curled into the front of his shirt, drawing him even closer.

  She wanted desperately to wrap herself around him. To feel that strong, muscled body against hers. Instead she forced herself to stand very still. But though her body obeyed her, her mind refused. In the space of a single kiss, she could feel her focus beginning to blur. Could feel her mind emptying and her body straining toward his.

  When at last he lifted his head, she had to take several deep breaths until she was able to gather her thoughts.

  He took her hand, linking his fingers with hers.

  She shot him a look of astonishment.

  He merely smiled and led her toward her car. When he had the door opened he settled her inside, then leaned close. He saw her eyes widen. That only made him smile all the more.

  “I’ll call you.” His warm breath feathered the hair at her temple and sent an odd little tingle down her spine.

  “I have an unlisted number.”

  He gave her a smile that had her heart taking a hard, quick bounce before doing a dance in her chest. “Then I’ll just have to knock on your door one of these nights.”

  “I put in long hours on committee meetings.”

  “I’ll come over afterward and we can debate the effect of sensitivity training on overzealous police officers.”

  “That’s not my idea of a fun evening.”

  “Give me a chance to change your mind.”

  “About sensitivity training? Hardly.”

  “Well then, at least about the fun part.” He leaned in, until his mouth brushed hers. “Did I tell you that I do my best debating while rubbing my opponent’s back?” He kissed her again, keeping it as light as an autumn breeze. “Or feet.” One more feathery kiss as he whispered, “Or other parts of the anatomy. Goodbye, Mary Brendan Lassiter.”

  She heard the car door close. Watched as he walked back to his own car and started the engine. And though she mechanically fastened her seat belt and turned the key in the ignition, her mind was still spinning in endless circles.

  She waited until he’d driven away before lowering the windows and breathing deeply. Then, putting the car in gear, she started toward her apartment. All the way there she wondered just how all that had happened. One minute they were having a leisurely breakfast and a few laughs. The next they were acting like long-lost lovers.

  Lovers.

  She touched a fingertip to her lips. She could still feel the imprint of his mouth on hers. Could still taste him. So dark and male and…potent.

  She shook her head to clear her mind. What she needed was a good dose of reality to bring her back to earth. And she knew just the thing—the endless pages of her latest committee report that needed to be digested before the start of another work week.

  Chapter 4

  “Pop?” Bren was busy stuffing papers into her already bulging briefcase as she rested her cell phone between shoulder and ear. “I’m really sorry about missing dinner again tonight. It couldn’t be helped. Two of our committee members had to juggle their schedules, and this was the only night we were all available. So tell me what I missed.”

  With her grandfather’s voice buzzing in her ear, she waved a hand to the cleaning crew as she swept from the office and along the almost deserted hallway. At the entrance she paused to smile at the night guard before hurrying to her car.

  Inside, she tossed aside her briefcase and turned the key in the ignition, all the while making appropriate sounds of pleasure as Kieran Lassiter described the stuffed pork chops, the garlic mashed potatoes and the lemon chiffon pie her family had enjoyed in her absence.

  “Stop.” She laughed. “Do you know what I’ve had to eat all day? A cafe latte around seven this morning, and a wilted salad at my desk sometime around midday.” She sighed as she turned into her apartment complex and found an empty slot. Before stepping out of her car she took a moment to peer around for any sign of movement. It had only been days since the attack, and each night when she arrived back here she found her heart rate speeding up and her adrenaline pumping through her veins at the thought of navigating the dimly lit parking structure.

  Was that why she kept her grandfather talking? Was she subconsciously in need of company until she reached the safety of her own apartment?

  With his voice still humming in her ear she scooped up her briefcase and stepped out of her car. “Yes, the thought of a midnight snack of leftovers is tempting, Pop. But I still have a ton of paperwork to finish. I’ll have to take a rain check. But I promise you, I’ll make it over before the end of the week.”

  She pressed the elevator button and turned to stare around at the parked cars. When the elevator doors slid silently open, she stepped inside and pressed the button to her floor. “Tell Mom and Cam I send my love, Pop.”

  She tucked the cell phone into her coat pocket and stepped off at her floor. As she started along the corridor, she heard a footfall behind her. She stopped and turned. Was that a shadow in that doorway? Or was she letting her imagination get the best of her?

  She resolutely started forward again, only to feel the hair at the back of her neck rising. She could sense someone behind her. She quickened her pace and could feel the footsteps behind her picking up the pace, as well.

  Her breath was coming hard and fast as she rounded the corner toward her apartment. Blindly digging into her pocket for the key, she looked up just in time to see a tall shadowy figure standing outside her door. Before she could halt her momentum, she slammed into him.

  Her breath came out in a whoosh of air.

  “Chris.” She started to push away but he caught her by the upper arms and stared down into her eyes. Eyes wide with terror.

  His voice was gruff. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought…” She took a moment to suck in a breath. “Just nerves, I know. But I thought I sensed somebody following me.”

  “Go inside.” Without waiting he took her key and fitted it into the lock, shoving her inside. “I’ll be right back. Don’t open the door until you hear my voice.”

  By the time she’d closed the door, she could hear fast, impatient footsteps receding. A short time later she heard a rap on her door, followed by the sound of his voice.

  “It’s Chris. Open up.”

  Bren peered through the peephole, then threw the safety lock and stood aside.

  “Nobody there?”

  He shook his head.

  She gave a shaky laugh. “I’ve always been cursed with an overactive imagination. Pop used to say I
was too fanciful for my own good.”

  “Don’t put yourself down.” He touched a hand to her arm and felt her jerk back. Nerves. She was so wired she was jangling. “I believe in trusting my instincts. You should, too.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve got to get over it. I can’t believe how jumpy I’ve been since that…” She turned away, clearly annoyed with herself. “I’ve never been a timid mouse. I’m not going to start now.”

  She turned back, her smile in place. “If I hadn’t been so distracted, I would have asked sooner. What are you doing here? Not that I mind. I was awfully glad to see a familiar face after running into you.”

  “I told you I’d come knocking on your door. Since this was my first free night in a week, I thought I’d spend it with you.”

  “Just like that? Without calling first?”

  “I tried your office number. One of your staff took my name and number and said you were tied up, but you never called back.”

  “Sorry.” She flushed. “I left my office this afternoon for a committee meeting. By the time I returned, it was so late I didn’t even bother to look through my messages.”

  “Yeah, well, since you have an unlisted number here, I thought I’d just take a chance on catching you in. Have you eaten?”

  “No. As a matter of fact I—”

  “Good.” He turned away and opened her door, bending down to retrieve something. When he straightened, he was holding two handled shopping bags.

  “What’s all this?”

  “Dinner.” He moved past her to the kitchen, where he began removing items from the bags. “I’m about to feed you.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  He shook his head. “Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable. Unless, of course, you like relaxing in those fancy-lady clothes.”

  “I’ll be right back.” She made her way to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes. Within minutes she’d removed her suit and replaced it with a russet turtleneck and matching leggings. Tossing her earrings on the dresser top, she walked barefoot to the other room.

  He looked up from the kitchen counter where he’d just filled two stem glasses with red wine. “Now that’s what I call relaxed.”