Chapter One
Having prophetic dreams on a regular basis wasn’t nearly as fun as one might think, especially when only half of them made sense, but Dani Botelli wasn’t complaining. Instead, she intended to make the next thirty years of her life better than the first thirty had been. Wasn’t thirty the new twenty-five anyway?
As she raced for the courthouse steps, she vowed that this time around she’d search for a more compatible man, she’d hold down and thrive at her job, and she’d do her level best to stay out of harm’s way for more than a day or two at a time. When a person was on a first-name basis with most everyone at the police station and the emergency room, it probably wasn’t a good thing. Unless you actually worked there.
The first item on her self-improvement list involved convincing her detective almost-ex-husband, Jake, to sign their divorce papers. She’d finally gotten serious about the divorce and cut off the sleeping-together part about three weeks ago. They’d never gone that long before, so it was a new record, but he still hadn’t signed.
Next, she needed to make a success of her job as a Realtor and stop living off her famous mother. The living-off-her-mom part wasn’t going to be so easy. Shopping in designer boutiques and traveling to exotic places had become commonplace in her past life.
Actually, it had been the best part of her former life, but she’d been too young to appreciate it before she got married. Paying her own Visa bill that first time had been a life-altering experience. Those statements should come with some kind of health warning like cigarette packs do: “Your risk of a heart attack may increase after you see how irresponsible you’ve been this past billing cycle.”
But in order to keep her job and earn enough money to move out of her mother’s guesthouse, she planned to ignore the unwanted visions that kept popping into her head, the ones compelling her to share them with her ex.
Let Jake figure out “who done it” all on his own.
Jake never missed an opportunity to take advantage of her odd dreams and mostly right hunches about things, but sometimes her visions, ones that seemed to come out of nowhere, could be as confusing as sudoku puzzles to the math impaired.
Her little “extra abilities” were an unwanted burden, and keeping them a secret had always been a daunting task. But, by ignoring her secret woo-woo skills, she’d be able to put some distance between herself and Jake and stay out of the crosshairs of the criminals who loved to hate her after she helped throw them into jail.
Dani lengthened her stride as she approached the courthouse in downtown Albuquerque—yes, the same place Breaking Bad was filmed—to testify for the prosecution in another, and hopefully the last, of Jake’s stupid cases. A glance at her watch showed she was late.
Being on time was absolutely not on her self-improvement list because everyone needed a few vices to keep them interesting, didn’t they? But judges tended to be picky about that sort of thing, so she needed to get a move on.
Just as her stiletto landed on the bottom step, a familiar voice called out, “Dani?”
Michael Reilly.
Crap. Now what?
Michael was the first man she’d ever slept with—to her undying regret—and in a strange chain of events, he had become one of her mother’s many lawyers.
It was something they never talked about. The sleeping-together incident, not the lawyer aspect.
He looked like an extremely buff Ben Affleck, and she’d always been insanely attracted to him. But their complicated past threw a bucket of cold water on those desires.
Most of the time.
Pretending she didn’t hear him, Dani picked up speed, taking the slick stone steps two at a time. No easy task in three-inch Manolos. Michael had once been a starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys, however, and she was no match for his powerful strides.
“You’re a little overdressed for a jog, aren’t you, Botelli?” A large hand gently wrapped around her arm, thwarting her plans for escape.
She turned and stared into his gorgeous jade-green eyes. “I’m so late, Michael. Can we do whatever tedious lawyer thing you have in mind later?”
“Sure.” He smiled, exposing deep, sexy dimples. “If we wait until next week, I can just visit you in jail.” His eyes danced with mischief as he leaned so close his breath tickled her lips. “I bet you’ll look extremely hot in one of those orange jumpsuits.”
Okay, maybe it’d be worth her while to hear what the man had to say. While trying to keep her rising panic in check, along with her hormones, she gave him a casual shrug. “What’s the problem?”
He tugged her toward the courthouse, his hand still wrapped around her arm. She wasn’t going to think about the zing of pleasure his touch sent through her. The last time she’d let that affect her, they ended up sleeping together that one and only time.
She hadn’t meant to sleep with him, and every time she replayed it in her head, she still couldn’t remember what made him so irresistible that night.
It probably had to do with how they used to be such good friends, his killer smile, and how he could kiss like no one else.
He lengthened his stride and said, “Let’s walk and talk. You were scheduled to testify five minutes ago.” His hand moved from her arm to around her shoulder, but it was no tender embrace. He was probably trapping her against his hard body so she couldn’t slip away.
He added, “Your mother is eager to clear up that pesky trespassing charge against you. And thank you for ignoring the three messages I left on that particular subject.” He slipped his large hand to her lower back, gently guiding her toward the metal detectors.
“Um . . . I’ve had a little problem with my cell, but it should be fixed soon.”
“It helps if you pay your bill on time.”
“Thanks for that clever tip.” Dani raised a brow, hoping to look indignant, but he was right. She wasn’t getting her next real estate commission check until Friday. And it was only Tuesday.
He blew out an impatient breath as he stepped through the metal detector. “Look at it this way. If your phone works, we don’t have to see nearly as much of each other.”
“Oh, but I so look forward to seeing your sneer in person.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “What were the calls about?”
The corners of his mouth tilted as he opened the heavy courtroom door, waiting until she entered first. If nothing else, Michael was the consummate gentleman, even when he was giving her a hard time.
“We’ll discuss it after your testimony. I’m looking forward to the show.”
She sent him an eye roll as a parting shot, then made her way toward the district attorney and Jake. Michael’s deep voice rang out behind her. “Knock ’em dead, slugger.”
Dani didn’t have time for a clever retort because a very rude and impatient man grabbed her arm and yanked her along with him to the front of the courtroom.
After she was seated on the witness stand, the court registrar asked, “Do you, Daniella Francesca Botelli, swear to tell the truth, so help you God?”
She hated when anyone used all of her names. It made her sound like one of those frozen Italian meals in a bag. “I do.” And this was going to be the last time she’d ever do this for Jake.
Really.
This time she meant it.
Michael settled into his seat, prepared to watch the curvy, olive-skinned Italian beauty testify. What had Jake dragged her into now? She’d been involved with the most bizarre legal tangles since she’d been with him. Divorcing that guy would be the best thing Dani could do for herself.
Not that he cared one way or the other.
It was days like this that he missed professional football, when all a guy had to do was win a ball game. Now he had to deal with the likes of Dani Botelli.
He tried to focus on her testimony but found it hard to concentrate when nerves had her chewing on her sexy, full bottom lip. She tossed her light-brown curly hair back and drew a deep breath. “I was making a deposit at the bank, and then that man”—Dani pointed to the defendant—“came in with a gun and told everyone to hit the floor.”
She’d just proven his point. How could anyone be at the scene of a crime as often as she was? She’d been an eyewitness three times in the last year. It was as if she knew the crimes were going to happen, then showed up to watch. What were the chances? But then, it was Dani. If there was trouble within a ten-mile radius, she had always ended up right in the middle of it. Ever since they were kids.
When she shifted her slender legs, causing her short skirt to rise higher on her thighs, he turned his attention to his phone. He needed to block the memory of those long legs wrapped around him.
He wasn’t there to lust after her. He was there to get Dani’s mother, Annalisa Botelli—not only one of the greatest actresses of all time but the most persistent woman on earth—off his back about Dani’s latest legal problem. Why Dani had felt the urge to scale the wall of the mayor’s mansion was still a mystery. One he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. But one phone call from her powerful mother had soothed everyone’s ruffled feathers, and they’d struck a deal to keep Annalisa’s little princess out of the slammer once again. However, this time there was a deadline to keep, and the police were growing impatient.
The defense lawyer’s voice rang out. “So what happened next, Ms. Botelli?”
As Dani recounted the crime, Michael stared at her again, not hearing her words. The timbre of her low, silky voice slipped into his mind, bringing back unwanted memories of how he used to love her. Like he’d never loved anyone else.
That was a painful road he’d never travel again, no matter how breathtaking the view.
After her testimony, Dani slipped through the retreating crowd, hoping to find Michael, avoid Jake, and then make a quick escape from the courthouse. She squinted into the bright midday New Mexico sunshine, spotting the angry goon who’d sent her death stares the whole time she’d testified against his twin brother. He stood across the street banging out something on his phone.
Quickly changing direction, she slipped behind the protection of the courthouse’s huge columns.
When she bumped into a hard chest, her heart nearly stopped. But then she recognized a familiar tailored gray suit, white shirt, and red power tie. “Oh, there you are, Michael.” Before she could ask what needed to be done to keep her out of jail, her name rang out behind her.
She turned as her ex strode toward her.
“We need to talk, babe.” Jake turned his attention toward Michael and lifted his chin in greeting. “Hey there, Counselor. Would you excuse us for a minute? I need to talk to my wife about something.”
Michael didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he dug out his cell and got busy reading the screen. Jake and Michael had always disliked each other. She wasn’t entirely sure why.
“It’s ex-wife, Jake,” Dani growled as he dragged her out of Michael’s earshot. “That is if you’d hurry up and sign the papers.”
No response from him. As usual.
When they were a few feet away, she stopped and slammed her hands onto her hips. “Ignoring this and hoping it goes away isn’t going to work this time, Jake. I haven’t changed my mind about the divorce, and I meant what I said about not sleeping with you anymore, babe.”
Jake’s response was a slow, patient grin that had her reconsidering the sleeping-together part. So sue her, he was damn cute. He stood there—all blond, six feet of him in his tight jeans, a badge tucked at his waist, chambray work shirt, and cowboy boots—knowing full well she was wavering.
Luckily, her new-and-improved sensibilities kicked in, reminding her that Jake was not going to be part of her future. At least not romantically, but she hoped they’d always be friends.
Jake’s gravelly voice lowered before he said, “Thinking about ways to get you into bed is one of my favorite pastimes, but this isn’t one of those times. There’s this new case—”
“No.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.”
“Work this case with me, and I’ll never ask for your help again.”
She gritted her teeth. “No, Jake, I mean it. I don’t want to do this anymore. And because of that big fancy speech you gave me about growing up and being responsible for myself, I have to spend some time actually listing and selling homes. Not solving crimes.”
“You may have seen this one on the news. The scumbag claims three men broke into his home, stole some electronics, then shot his wife and child. Said scumbag will conveniently receive enough from the insurance settlement to cover his massive debts with just enough left over to buy the twenty-one-year-old he’s been banging on the side a new diamond ring.”
Dani stared into Jake’s eyes. He had that look: the one that told her he’d not give up until he found the truth. It was the reason she’d fallen head over heels for him in her past screwed-up life. Jake was a rare person, who believed his gut instincts were really no different from her dreams and visions. If they could have gotten along as well out of bed as in it, they’d still be together. “You think the guy shot his wife and then his own child?”
Shaking his head, Jake replied, “Stepkid. But I can’t find the gun. It has to be somewhere in the house. The neighbors heard gunshots, and within eight minutes, 9-1-1 was called by the guy himself. Claims he fell asleep in front of the television in the basement and, when he heard the shots, raced upstairs, catching only the backs of the intruders as they ran away.”
“What about the gunshot residue test?”
“Negative. I say he wore gloves, threw them into the fire—conveniently burning at ten fifty at night—and then hid the gun. I’ve had the home sealed off, but I’ll have to let him back in soon. He’s guilty, babe. I can feel it.”
Dani chewed her lower lip as she considered Jake’s request. His gut feelings were solid; he was never wrong. But she was trying to live a somewhat normal life. And that didn’t include invoking confusing visions of crime scenes.
And why did there have to be a little kid involved in this particular crime? What kind of person would she be if she didn’t help put anyone who’d harm a child behind bars? “So you just want me to make a quick run through the house and see if anything pops?”
He beamed a sweet, triumphant smile. “Yep. It’ll just take a few minutes.”
“Fine, but this is the last time, Jake,” she muttered and then turned and marched toward Michael as he ended a call. “Hey, Mr. Ever-Efficient Lawyer, when you go back to the office, would you ask Ron if we can get Jake another copy of our divorce papers? He keeps misplacing them.”
“Okay.” Michael stared into Jake’s eyes for a moment, then turned back to her. “But only if you’ll grace me with your presence at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Fine.”
At the sound of breaking glass, she peered around Michael. “Hey! What’s he doing to my car?” She grabbed Jake because Jake was armed, and she wasn’t stupid—the guy had a bat in his hands—and ran toward her car.
The same man who had glared at her in court was slamming a baseball bat into the windshield of her ugly green Ford Taurus. “Die Bitx” was carved across the hood.
Strangely, she was more upset about what was carved on the hood than the fact that the guy was beating the crap out of her car. Did he mean “bitch”? She wasn’t a bitch. Well, not most of the time, anyway.
Another cop beat them to the scene and wrestled the bat out of the thug’s hands.
Dani slowed her pace as Jake rushed forward to help contain the man. The officer lifted a hand to stop him. “I’ve got him, Detective.”
Jake bent to pick up the bat, and the goon punched the officer in the stomach, slipped out of the cop’s hold, and ran right toward her.
Panic nearly stopped her lurching heart. He was on her in seconds, and she didn’t have time to run before he was directly in front of her. She flailed backward, tripping over a curb as the car smasher lifted a hand to strike her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael swinging his briefcase at the man’s head, but before it hit him, a fat open hand made contact with the side of her face.
She flew sideways, skidding across the hard pavement. It felt as though she’d been clocked with an anvil, and the skin on her scraped hands and legs burned as if on fire.
As she scrambled to get away, she hoped Michael or Jake would contain him before he could do more damage. She’d crawled a few feet before the sound of a low moan stopped her.
She took a tentative glance over her shoulder. The guy who’d hit her lay on the ground, with Michael’s briefcase beside his head.
Dani released the breath she’d been holding as Jake and the officer cuffed the man. Jake growled at the cop, “Now he’s under control, Officer. That’s my wife he hit!” Then he glanced her way. Using his cool, cop gaze, his eyes did a quick up and down, assessing the damage before he turned his attention back to the still-struggling assailant. The fact that he didn’t comment on her condition probably meant she’d live. But the ache in her head had her eyes stinging with tears.
When she tried to stand, the ground tilted, so she sank her butt to the hard pavement, waiting for everything to stop spinning.
Michael knelt beside her as she held her battered face. He whispered, “You okay?”
She cleared her throat and squeezed her eyes closed to contain her unshed tears. He was the last person on earth she’d cry in front of.
Lifting her chin, she opened her eyes and stared into his. She blinked in confusion at the genuine concern reflected in his gaze. If Michael was worried, then maybe she was worse off than she’d feared.
Before she could ask how bad the damage was, he laid a finger under her chin, gently tilting it. “If I were you, I’d postpone that photo shoot for your new business cards. A big red handprint on your face may be a little off-putting to potential clients.”
She shot him a weak grin as relief filled her. She’d be all right if Mr. Responsible was making jokes. “More sound advice, Michael? Be sure and bill my mother for it.” She accepted his offered hand.
After Michael tugged her to her feet, a wave of dizziness hit her, but his big hands were there to steady her. “Seriously, Dani. Do we need to take a trip to the emergency room?” He glanced down and surveyed the damage.
“You probably just want to go to the emergency room so you can increase your client base. I always suspected you were an ambulance chaser.”
“Damn, you’re onto me. But maybe we should make a trip over there, just for fun. I could use the extra money.”
When she chuckled, the worry lines etching his forehead relaxed.
“I’m fine, Michael. Really.”
“Okay.” He released her, but then her brain took a spin around the perimeter of her skull, and she tottered.
Michael quickly slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her firmly against his side, then turned toward her battered vehicle. “Is your Porsche in the shop?”
“No. It wasn’t practical for running families around to look at houses, so I sold it.” And paid off a big chunk of her debts in the process, but he didn’t need to know that. Michael thought she was a spoiled brat. It still pained her to think about how their relationship had taken a 180 in high school.
Once they’d parted ways, it’d become her full-time job to avoid him because Michael’s mother had been Annalisa’s assistant at the time. He and his mom had lived in the guesthouse on her mother’s estate. But from ages ten to sixteen, Dani and Michael had been inseparable. They’d traveled the world together, teased each other constantly, and could always make the other laugh. They’d had the easiest relationship she’d ever had with a boy. But then somewhere along the line, her feelings had changed for him. He went from being her best friend to being the only man for her.
On the night before her sixteenth birthday, she’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling as she tried to find a way to tell him how she felt about him. Unfortunately, she’d fallen asleep and had a dream that night. In it, Michael was walking down the aisle with a woman who wasn’t her. When she awoke, she’d felt devastated by the thought of Michael with another woman, and she’d parted ways with him that day. It had hurt too much to even look at him.
That dream was the clearest and most straightforward one she’d ever had. Like the universe slapping her in the face and laughing at the idea of a screwup like her ever being good enough for a great guy like Michael. Her heart had never recovered from that blow.
Shaking off her bad memories, she said, “This car makes a lot more sense than a sports car.” And it was butt-ugly, but it was all she could afford at the moment.
Michael nodded. “I suppose it does.”
Her face ached, and the scratches on her arms and legs stung, but they didn’t pain her nearly as much as the idea of coming up with the money to fix her car. The insurance deductible was five hundred dollars, and she had only twenty-two bucks that had to last until her next closing.
While the officer and Jake got the guy from the courtroom onto his feet and under control, she studied the profanity scratched into her car.
Nice.
The “Die Bitx” was etched deeply into the hood, and she doubted she’d ever be able to get rid of it entirely.
A soft sigh left her lips as she suddenly realized she was still snuggled up against Michael Reilly’s long, solid former-football-player body. It wasn’t a hardship. He obviously still worked out.
Afraid she was enjoying his comforting touch a little more than was wise, she quickly pulled out of his embrace and leaned down to pick up his scarred briefcase. “Sorry about this. It was probably worth more than my car.” Dani knew her leathers. She hadn’t grown up the daughter of one of the richest women on earth without knowing quality when she saw it. She just couldn’t have nice things like that anymore now that she was supporting herself.
He glanced at her car, then solemnly met her gaze again. “I think it’s still worth more, even battered.”
She snorted out a laugh and handed over the case. “Wait a minute. Did you just make another joke? That makes three in the last five minutes. Are you taking Prozac these days?”
He sent her a bored look, but the gleam in his eyes gave away the fact that he was fighting a grin. He reached into his pocket for his cell. “Since the blow to your head hasn’t affected your quick wit, I’ll trust you’ll remember to stop by my office at three o’clock today.” After punching their appointment into his phone, he glanced at her car. “Or, you could just ride back with me, and I’ll run you home after?”
As the cop led that vile man away, Jake slid beside Dani and wrapped his arm possessively around her shoulder. “Nope, Dani’s all squared away, Counselor. She’s going to help me with a case I’m working on, so I’ll take care of her.”
Obviously understanding Jake’s back-off gesture, Michael raised a hand for peace and said, “If you want to avoid jail time, I’ll see you at three Dani.” Then he turned and walked away.
“I’ll be there.” She turned to Jake. “Where are you parked?”
After Dani slid gingerly into Jake’s police cruiser, she laid her head back against the seat and groaned. “I can’t afford to get my car fixed until Friday, this was one of my favorite skirts—was being the operative word—and I feel like I’ve been in a bar brawl. Is it too much to ask to live an ordinary life without all the drama?” After she tilted her throbbing face toward his, she added, “I would’ve never had to testify against that insane man’s brother, and I wouldn’t have to go to some gruesome crime scene, if it weren’t for you, Jake.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but you do it because you love me.”
God help her she did, but not as a husband. Sadly, they wanted different things from marriage, and it was never meant to be. After she and Jake had separated earlier in the year, a dream revealed a man her heart recognized as the one she’d always love.
Well, she’d seen the back of him anyway. It would have been way too much to ask to actually see the man’s face rather than his backside, although a fine rear view it was. He had a strange jagged scar, like a long squiggle, on his right shoulder. Even she should be able to identify him when she finally met him.
Her mother, who was afflicted with similar prophetic dreams that no one knew about, insisted Dani would meet the man soon, but he was going to hurt her, because he’d been walking away in the dream, ending their relationship. He might not be the man she was meant to spend her life with. Either way, the man in her dream hadn’t been Jake.
Dani laid her hand on Jake’s forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I do love you, Jake, enough that I want you to be happy. You need to get back out there and find that one woman who actually wants to be barefoot, pregnant with your fourth or fifth child, and have a perfectly prepared meal on the table when you return home each night.” She sent him a stern look. “That is, if you can pry your dedicated little self away from work long enough to actually come home.”
He tore his gaze from the road and met hers. “I know I work too much. I can be better about that. And you say you don’t want kids, but you’d be a great mother. It isn’t certain if we had a child it would have extra abilities. You always seem to conveniently forget that your sister doesn’t have them.” He shot her a grin. “And look how well we’ve gotten along in the past few months. It shows we’re meant to be together.”
“That’s only because we haven’t lived together for the past few months.” She rubbed at the tension headache brewing behind her forehead. “Do you realize we’ve been separated almost as long as we were married?”
Jake shook his head, waving off the facts. “Actually, I just read an article on the Internet that said in the United States, there are three-point-eight million married couples who don’t live under the same roof. If they can do it, so can we. But I’d rather you come home and forget about the divorce.”
“Are you having a complete memory lapse?” Dani threw her hands up in frustration. “We drive each other crazy. You lost all your ability to cook, clean, and pick up after yourself when we were together. That is, when you decided to come home. And I distinctly remember you saying that I needed to grow up, stop taking handouts from my mother, quit spending money faster than you earned it, and pick up the damn books I leave stacked on the floor for you to trip over. If we had a kid, I’d probably get so lost in a book or on the Internet researching something that I’d forget to feed it. I was a lousy wife, and I’d be a horrible parent, Jake.” She crossed her arms and huffed out a breath. “And so would you. Your nurturing skills suck.”
Even Michael, who was constantly annoyed with her, had at least been kind earlier. Jake hadn’t even mentioned the attack she’d just endured because of his dumb case. Granted, he’d been a little busy containing the car-battering thug, but still.
“I can be nurturing just as much as the next guy.” He put a pathetically sorrowful expression on his face. “I’m extremely sorry you’ve been hurt, and wish I could take away your pain and make it my own.” He barely suppressed a grin before he added, “There’s a bottle of aspirin in the glove compartment.”
She shook her head in utter frustration, sending a whole new wave of pain to her face, and dug the bottle out. “A little ice would be nice, too.” She tossed back three pills and gagged as she tried to dry swallow them.
He glanced in the mirror and made a quick lane change. “It’s lunchtime anyway. How about we swing by a drive-through?”
“Whatever,” Dani groused, ignoring the acidic flavor coating her tongue.
“Honest, Dani, thanks for all your help, and I am sorry about today. You know I appreciate all you do for me. And I’ll bet you’re hungry because you spent your lunch money on something sparkly in lieu of eating. How about I buy you a supersize combo meal and a cup of ice as a reward for another of your good deeds?”
“My hero,” she muttered and leaned her head against the seat. She hated to admit he was right. That’s how she’d justified her new earrings. They were on sale and only cost as much as three or four lunches. Some women used Atkins or South Beach diets to keep their figures. She used the jewelry diet. It worked for her.
Jake sent her a cocky grin. “You’re going to think I’m a hero when I arrange for the department to pay for the repairs on your car. It’s the least we can do, since you won’t accept a consulting fee.”
“Thanks.” She sighed with relief, hoping he wasn’t going to engage in another argument about her taking money for his use of her visions and dreams. If she took payment from the police, it’d be public record, but her mother insisted that no one know of their extra abilities. It might not be so good for her mom’s ticket sales.
Being the daughter of a celebrity sucked sometimes. Like the time she’d been kidnapped for ransom at the age of four but, luckily, hadn’t been harmed. Because of that, she’d had annoying security guards following her every time she set foot outside her mother’s gated compound, until she’d graduated from high school. Having constant tattletales sure curtailed her adolescent fun. But worse, it was hell living with a huge secret your whole life, with only a handful of people who knew the truth. Because of that, she had to decipher her visions and dreams, trying to arrive at the scene of the crime in time so that she or the police could witness the act, thereby, keeping her secret. But she was going to stop sharing what she saw . . . soon.
Jake was blissfully quiet for a few moments, and she’d almost fallen asleep when he said, “Michael wants you. What’s up with that?”
Dani shifted slowly to meet his stare, her head still pounding. “Michael thinks I’m a ditz. He doesn’t want me.” Anymore, but she kept that part to herself. She took pride in the fact that Michael had been the first of only two men she’d been with before Jake. Her mother was notorious for sleeping around, and because of it, Dani was very selective with her bed partners.
The muscles in Jake’s jaw twitched, indicating he was being serious for a change. “Trust me, he wants you. Bad. But there’s another man you need to worry about more than the tight-assed Michael Reilly. His name is Carlos Watts.”
At the gravity of his tone, Dani forgot all about Michael. “Is that the guy who attacked me?”
“Yeah. He’s no criminal mastermind. He showed that when he beat the crap out of your car in front of a courthouse swarming with cops. I don’t know how long I can keep him locked up. Maybe forty-eight hours, tops. The fact that he hit a cop will help, but his grandparents have money and have been bailing him and his brother out of trouble their whole lives. He may cool off after a few days and forget about you, but then again, he may not. We need to come up with a plan to keep you safe.”