Page 17 of Trap ’N’ Trace

Hushed cursing drew him back to the foyer where Morales held his cell to his ear again. “Yes, sir. I understand.” The cop ended the call, looking about as sad sack as a guy could get.

Clearly, getting a replacement was still a no-go. Dayne exhaled a long breath. As much as it killed him, the brotherhood demanded he do it. “I’ll stay here in your place.”

Morales jerked his head up, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Seriously?” Dayne nodded and the cop’s grin broadened. “Just let me run it by my CO.”

A minute later, Morales got the green light to beat feet and Dayne was pouring himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. The other cop was still outside in his patrol car.

A vase on the end of the island held a bunch of slightly wilted pink roses. Already bored, he counted the flowers. Eleven, not a dozen as he’d expected.

A creak came from the staircase and Angus scampered off with his rubber chew toy. Dayne set the mug on the counter, resting his hand on his Glock. He stepped quietly into the living room to find Kat kneeling, stroking Angus’s ears. She’d changed out of her jeans and sweatshirt and now wore a long purple robe.

The puppy dropped the chew toy and stood on his hind legs, begging to be picked up. She cooed to him, dropping gentle little kisses on the top of his head, the same way a mother would kiss a child. Apparently, like his K-9, Kat had a maternal streak a mile wide. And this puppy wasn’t even hers.

“You are so cute. I wish I could keep you.” When Angus landed a puppy lick to her face, she smiled.

He’d seen her smile before, but not like this. This one was genuine. The other times, they’d been perfunctory and then only because protocol dictated it.

Angus yipped, and Kat reached down to scoop him into her arms. When she rose, she sucked in a tight breath. Her eyes squeezed shut and her lips compressed, but she didn’t let go of the puppy.

“Are you all right?” Any idiot could see she wasn’t.

She spun to face him, wide-eyed. Neither of them uttered a word. He couldn’t say why she was speechless, but he knew why he was. Whatever material that robe was made of clung to a set of long, shapely legs, defining every sleek muscle.

“Agent Andrews, what are you doing here?”

“Call me Dayne.” It seemed silly not to when he’d been using her first name all this time. “Morales—the cop who was here—had to leave. His wife just went into labor.”

“That’s wonderful news.” Again, she smiled, but pain rimmed the tight lines of her mouth, and only then did he notice how red her eyes were. “And you took his place? How noble.”

Was there a touch of sarcasm behind her words? Maybe. Then again, she was one of the most polite people he’d ever met.

One of Angus’s tiny paws rested on her collarbone. He sobered at the pale pink marks on her neck. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“I don’t like hospitals.” She went past him into the kitchen.

“Nobody does.”

“My parents died there.”

“I’m sorry.” Man, he couldn’t seem to say anything right around her. “What happened?”

“Plane crash. I was sixteen, but I remember everything. The awful hospital smell. The sadness. The terrible loneliness. The—” She stopped, as if she hadn’t meant to confess something so personal. “It’s just something I never forgot. Since then, the only times I go to a hospital are for charity events.”

“Understandable.” As favorite places to visit went, hospitals were at the rock bottom of his list, too. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He thought he knew the answer but needed to hear her say it.

She leaned against one end of the counter. “Like you said, finding a dead body, let alone two in one day, would mess with anyone’s head.”

He gave her an assessing look. “Are you sure you’re telling me everything?”

“Are you suggesting that finding two women—one of whom was my friend—dead doesn’t bother me in the slightest?” Her voice trembled at the reference to Amy Thorpe. When Angus wriggled in her arms, she hissed in a breath.

“No. What I’m suggesting is that you’re in pain. Emotional and physical.” He lifted Angus from her arms, and as he did, one of his hands brushed against her breast. Her eyes widened. His did, too, but not because he’d accidentally touched her inappropriately. The puppy’s paw had caught on the collar of the robe, tugging it from her shoulder and revealing an ugly bruise the size of a grapefruit.

He ground his jaw, angry as hell at the fucker who’d done this. Angrier still that he and Remy hadn’t gotten to the Haven a few seconds sooner.

Dayne set the puppy on the floor then crossed his arms, watching her draw the robe back in place. “You’ve got two choices. Either you let me take you to the hospital right now to get that shoulder looked at, or you let me examine you.”

“You?” She tightened the robe around her torso.