“When we’re alone, it’s Kim, please.”
Was she tired of what she was?
The judge went to a mirrored wall, inserted a key and opened a door Zach had no idea was there. From inside she removed a large briefcase and a tailored white purse that was as sleek as it was expensive. “Mr. Hood—”
“Zach,” he said, standing.
Opening the classy white bag, she pulled out a black band that she wound around her hair until it was in a professional bun again. She dipped into the bag once again and came out with a shiny black case. Opening it, she slid black sunglasses into her hand. Leaning over her desk, she electronically signed the contract before stowing her iPad in her bag.
“Zach, you have to make those two things happen or I’ll find another security detail. I heard that Hood Investigations was the best. You not only get your man, but you make them pay without killing them. Between you, me and the wall, that’s my brand of justice. If I go into hiding and they kill me, they win. Can you do the job?”
Zach didn’t try to conceal his smile. She had become the judge again. Her logic was impeccable and refreshing. Women just didn’t think like her. “We do whatever it takes to get our man.”
She handed him her pashmina to drape over her shoulders, and when she turned, she was just beneath him. Kim’s sensuality was as effortless as her beauty.
“Let me make this clear,” Zach continued, denying himself the opportunity to be lulled by her feminine appeal. “If he gets too close, if anyone in your circle is endangered, you do it my way.”
Her face was expressionless, and then he saw it. Respect sparkled like a firecracker on a hot July night. She covered her eyes in black sunglasses and her lips eased into a sexy smile. “You’re the boss.”
The words had never sounded sexier. Never sounded more provocative than they did right then.
“First, we’re going to do background checks. Shake the trees and see what falls out.”
Zach decided right then that he loved her eyebrows because they arched over her dark glasses and told him what her eyes would not. He got her safely into his SUV and they were under way quickly.
He made sure they weren’t being followed, driving through the streets of Atlanta that he knew so well. Kim crossed her legs and he averted his gaze, vowing not to look again. If he was going to get the job done right, the last thing he needed was to want her. “You haven’t told me something,” Zach said. Her body language was different since they’d left the courthouse.
“I didn’t want to mention this while Clark was still in the office. He would never have gone on vacation. This was on the gate when I drove to work this morning.” She handed him a note.
Zach didn’t want to pull over, but he had no choice. He broke protocol and stopped at a well-known restaurant parking lot and shifted the gears into Park, the car facing the street. He needed an easy escape route, if that became necessary. He pulled latex gloves from the glove box, a staple in his profession. “You should have told me earlier. I could have had this scanned and analyzed by now.”
The note was simple. You will feel my pain.
It was impossible to tell whether the writer was male or female, black or white, young or old. The one thing he could say was that they were smart. No unnecessary words. No clues, no hints at their next method of attack. Only the promise. These were the worst. Zach hated these perpetrators. Catching this one would take skill rather than strength. “On the gate of your house?” he asked.
“Yes. They couldn’t get in,” she assured him.
He nodded. They weren’t professional. Not yet. “Don’t keep anything else from me. We’ll catch him that much sooner if I know everything. I hate surprises. They put us at a disadvantage.”
She’d already pulled off her glasses.
Her gaze cut across the traffic, then back at him. “Get used to them. That’s what law is all about. Managing the bad and evil surprises.”
“I don’t get used to anything. That’s why I always get my man,” he assured her. “Or woman.” She crossed her left leg, then folded her arms. He knew what that meant. Off-limits. Women only clouded men’s judgment, and he was there to work, only.
The judge had nothing to worry about. If her work ethic was as strong as she’d stated, his was made of carbonized steel.
Chapter 3
When was the last time a man had made Kim feel incompetent and unable to take care of a situation?
Zach pushed on the first-floor window in the sunroom, finding it unlocked. He frowned as he’d done a thousand times since they’d arrived at the house. He didn’t like anything. Not her house, or the fact that it was a two-story and not a three-story. He made it clear that he thought her security system was inadequate and that she needed upgrades, including a dog, and he’d asked her more than once why was she single. As if she hadn’t asked herself that a thousand times over the years until finally accepting the answer. She was meant to be alone.
Zachary Hood couldn’t be made happy about anything. Kim had stopped trying. His expectations were too high. They’d slid into hour three of his interrogation fifty-nine minutes ago, and as hour four ticked away, she took a mental moment to figure out why her frustration level matched his. She had been happy with her life… Until she’d met him.
Kim wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t a judgmental man. She’d expected him to be more conciliatory. Someone who…well, acquiesced to her position as a judge. Someone who was at least nice.
Releasing the biggest sigh of the day, her tension eased a bit. It was the truth. It had been so long since anyone besides Clark told her she was wrong about something, and he was so gentle about it. Zach was trampling all over her tender feelings.
Kim slid her hand through her hair as they entered the keeping room, her mother’s favorite room in the house she and Kim’s father had owned before their deaths. This was the only room Kim had not changed when she’d had the house renovated a year ago. The curtains were still thick velvet brocade, and hung from heavy fourteen-foot rods, protecting stained-glass windows that dated back to the early nineteen hundreds, when the house had first been built.
The windows had been treated and re-stained, but that was all she’d had updated in the room.
“Wow, this is a throwback to the past,” Zach murmured, more to himself than to her. His words weren’t a criticism or snide, just a statement about the overall state of the room. It was mausoleum-like with the heavy dark furniture and the real Persian rugs. Kim knew that at some point she’d have to deal with the room and renovate. She’d have to deal with her feelings for her mother, too. Perhaps that was why the room was still in its untouched state, even after eight years.
Zach was ten feet into the room before he spoke. “Turn on the lights, please.”
The lights were on a dimmer switch, and Kim tried to see the room as he did. The portrait that hung over the fireplace of her and her mother came into view as the lights grew brighter. Zach drew closer and studied her mom. “She was beautiful. You look just like her.”
When more words didn’t come, Kim became embarrassed.
“Thank you.” The unexpected compliment had caught her off guard. Her heart hammered. She’d been called beautiful before, but she wanted to be respected by Zach.
She looked at her mother and her heart ached for the closeness they had lacked. For all that they hadn’t been.
The sadness in the room overwhelmed her. “Are you almost finished? I can meet you in the library.”
Zach had moved on, even as she walked toward the door, her heart beginning to race again. Anxiety from being in her mother’s space was beginning to get to her.