“David Adams?”

The man was not who Michael would have expected. He knew David Adams was a powerful defense attorney in New York City, but he wouldn’t have pegged him for a shorts-and-wrinkled-T-shirt kind of guy. He decided that Kate’s looks must have come from her mother—her father had dark cropped hair, brown eyes, and a plain, oval face. Something about him screamed lawyer, though—or maybe it was that Michael didn’t trust lawyers, and he definitely didn’t trust Kate’s father, who had lied to his daughter all her life.

“Michael Maddox?” David closed the distance between them but didn’t meet Michael’s extended hand. “Where’s my daughter?” He looked around the busy lobby of the hotel and back at Michael.

“How’d you know who I am? I didn’t think Kate mentioned me.” Michael shoved his hands in the pockets of his black business pants and trained his attention on David’s brown eyes, trying to get an accurate read on his character.

“Doesn’t everyone know who you are?” He echoed Michael’s pose. “Besides, you’re the reason my daughter is here, right? She planned your event. And I want her to come back to New York.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on,” Michael said with a deeper than normal voice. “We need to talk. I’ll take you to my office.”

“I have no intention of going anywhere without seeing my daughter. This is her hotel, correct?”

“It was. She’s staying at my place now.”

David took a step back from Michael and removed his hands from his pockets. “What the fuck is going on?” His tan faded, replaced by bright cheeks. “If you think you’re going to manipulate her—I know your reputation, you son—”

Michael held his palms up. “Hang on, man. I’m trying to help, Kate. She’s in danger.” And that was all he had said before he made for the exit, assuming that David would follow.

“What’s going on? I want to see my daughter,” David demanded as he trailed after Michael.

Michael spun on his heel and motioned toward his Audi. “Get in. I’ll explain.”

David huffed out an exasperated breath and shook his head, but at least he followed instructions.

As soon as Michael was behind the driver’s wheel and pulled out into traffic, he spoke. “Kate has a stalker. Someone began following her the minute she arrived in Charlotte. It looks like he’s trying to scare her away.” He glanced over at David out of the corner of his eye. He was pressing his palms against his knees and staring out the passenger window. “I called in a favor from a friend of mine in the FBI. He told Kate about her mother’s murder.”

“This is crazy.” David looked over at Michael as they stopped at a red light. “Jesus, I told her not to come to this city. I told her.”

“My friend in the FBI doubts the stalker is connected to her mother’s murder, given that the police think Elizabeth’s murder was the result of a burglary, but he wants to pursue every possible angle.”

“I didn’t want her to find out. I didn’t want her to know that her mother was shot. Do you blame me?” His face pinched together as anger, or maybe guilt besieged him.

Michael pulled off to the side of the road and parallel parked a few blocks from his office. He looked over at David again, studying him, but found himself unable to get a read on the man. Had he lost his touch? “It’s between you and Kate as to why you lied, but I need to know if you think there’s a chance that there’s a connection between her mother’s murder and her stalker.”

David looked like a man who had just lost a child. Or a wife. Sadness replaced his hollow stare, and the muscles in his face sagged, as though gravity had become heavier. “I don’t think there’s a relation,” he said at last.

“Why’d you run away from Charlotte when her mother died? Why the hell did her grandparents abandon their home—sadness? Or fear?”

David straightened his slouched shoulders and wet his dry lips. He wondered if Kate received her nervous energy from her father. How could a powerful attorney be so weak? Maybe it took having a child to understand what David was feeling.

“Tell me the truth,” Michael said with a flash of warning in his voice.

“I don’t know if her mother’s murder was premeditated.” David rubbed his forehead. “Her mother, Elizabeth, told me that she felt like she was being followed. She couldn’t prove it, though, and I—a pre-law student to the core—demanded evidence. I wanted to help her, but I said that without proof there was nothing to go on. Soon after she told me that, she died.”

“What did the cops say?”

“Same as I said to Elizabeth. Without proof . . .” He shifted in his seat and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. His hand fumbled inside before retrieving a folded photo. He handed it to Michael.

It was a headshot of Kate’s mother, Elizabeth. The photo was creased in the middle and worn at the edges, the color faded, but the resemblance between Kate and Elizabeth was astounding. Michael studied the photo and touched the necklace in the picture. The white gold chain was simple, but the pendant in the middle was exquisite. He didn’t know much about jewelry, but he guessed that the center diamond was, at least, two carats, and there were also small diamonds encrusting the large stone.

“That was her grandmother’s necklace—the one the killer took.” David’s brown eyes grew dark. “Where’s Kate? I need to see her.”

“Right now, she doesn’t want to see you.” He was beginning to feel sorry for the guy. Would he have done the same thing if he had been in David’s shoes? Would he have silenced the past?

“I need to protect her.”

“I have that covered.”

“I’m her father.” David slammed his hand against the dashboard as he glared at Michael.

“I’ll talk to her. I’ll see what I can do.” He opened the door and got out of his Audi. “Check into a hotel, and I’ll call you later.” Michael opened the trunk and retrieved David’s small suitcase. “Can I hang onto this photo for a bit?”

“Yes,” he answered as he met him on the sidewalk and stared at Michael, disbelief etched in the lines of his face.

“Here’s my number.” Michael handed him his business card. “I’ll call this afternoon. I promise.”

David knitted his eyebrows together as he took the card. “I have to see her. Please, tell her I’m sorry.”

Michael nodded and walked away, uneasiness building into a full storm that swirled inside him, threatening to break free.

* * *

“Michael met with your father earlier, and he’s at a meeting right now. He’ll fill us in when we see him later,” Connor said, peering up from his newspaper. “I made coffee. The real kind of coffee. I didn’t know how to use his fancy schmancy gadget.”

Kate tried not to feel disappointed by the fact that Michael wasn’t there. It was after nine, though. She was the one who’d asked him to meet with her dad because she was too cowardly to face him, but she wished she and Michael hadn’t left things the way they had the night before.

She wondered if he had slept with someone last night. Her stomach clenched tight, and she almost felt ill at the thought of him having sex with someone else.

But what had she expected—flowers and a proposal after they’d hooked up?

She couldn’t believe this was her life now.

“Uh, you okay, Kate?” Connor waved his hand in front of her face before handing her a cup of coffee.

She hadn’t even realized he was standing in front of her. Was she so blinded by thoughts of Michael that she couldn’t even see the hot man before her, holding her favorite beverage? “Sorry.” She smiled at him, took the coffee, and slid onto a barstool. “Thank you.” She brushed her hands over her sundress and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Connor responded with a grin that she was sure would make most women quiver with excitement. “Jake called and said he’d try and be here by two. Michael promised to be back by then, as well.” He sipped his coffee. “Would you like to get out of the house today? We could walk around the city. I assume you must feel a little claustrophobic being stuck inside.”

The man had a point. Fresh air was exactly what she needed. “I could almost kiss you for suggesting that,” she exclaimed, promptly rising to her feet.

“I would take you up on that, but Michael would kill us both,” he said before flashing her a knowing smile.

“Michael and I are just friends.”

Connor nodded. “Uh huh. Okay. So, Michael didn’t look like he wanted to snap my neck when he saw you asleep next to me on the couch last night . . .?”

Kate turned back around. “Oh. What time did he get in?”

A slow grin met his lips. “We should go,” he said instead, which deflated her a little. Did he not want to shred her with the truth? Or was he purposefully trying to get her to admit her feelings for Michael?

He tilted his head and motioned for her to follow.

“Connor, has Michael always been—”

He stepped into the elevator and cocked his head to the side. “An ass?”

Kate’s lips twitched with amusement.

“He’s a good guy, Kate. Give him a chance,” he said and then winked at her.

He waited for her to enter the elevator and crossed his arms, showing tanned biceps that bulged from beneath the sleeves of his gray T-shirt.

“Did Michael mention to you that I have a date on Friday?” she asked as they rounded the corner of the street and headed for a local coffee shop.

“Yeah, I heard about the auction.”

“The thing is, I don’t want my date to know about any of this, and it might be kind of hard to explain why I have a, um, bodyguard.” She fidgeted with her fingers as they walked.

“Well, you know that Michael will never let you go alone. If he even lets you go at all.” He opened the door to the cafe so she could enter. “I could keep some distance from you. I could be out of sight but always there. Would that work? Maybe Michael will be okay with that.”

“He better be okay with it, because I’m not giving him a choice. Thank you.”

After finishing their breakfast sandwiches and lattes, they exited the cafe, but Kate stopped in her tracks before they made it more than a couple of feet outside the door. She had forgotten how close they were to Michael’s office building.

And there Michael was, standing on the other side of the street. He was talking to the slender auburn haired woman she’d seen at his office last week. The redhead was touching his chest, and then she reached up and pressed her lips to his.

A city bus zipped by, blocking her view for a moment. When it was gone, she saw Michael looking over at her.

Michael’s eyes left Kate’s and returned to the redhead. He took the woman by the elbow and led her inside his office building.

Jealousy was an ugly thing. Kate was rarely a party to it when it came to men, especially since she hadn’t ever really fallen in love before—but with Michael, a bubbling caldron of emotions had brewed into something frustratingly toxic. She needed to get out of his home, and fast.

“You okay?”

“Do you know her?” Kate asked while looking up at Connor.

There was a sudden darkness, or maybe a pain, flickering in his irises.

He stared at her for a brief moment and then shook his head as if he were shaking free a thought. “I don’t know. Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“We’re just friends, Connor. Maybe not even that. . .”