psyche might be fascinating,” he said. Before she could respond, he added, “But you’re clearly too impatient to get on with your agenda to cooperate.”
She reached for the door handle, but before she could open it, his hand closed over hers. The shock of his touch, the heat of it, stilled her. He waited until she turned to look at him before he said a word.
“One bit of caution—proceed slowly in there. If you go in like a private detective, they won’t talk.” His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve taken a huge gamble by bringing you here. I won’t let you hassle them.”
“You promised—” she began, only to be cut off.
“I promised to bring you here, to let you get to know what we’re all about. If you get answers as a result of that, fine. If you can’t live with that, I’ll take you back home right now.”
She didn’t like the rules. Nor was she certain how she would operate within them. “How will you explain me?”
For a moment he seemed to be weighing the alternatives. “I’m going to tell them who you are,” he replied eventually.
Her gaze narrowed. There was more. She could read it in his eyes. “And then what?”
He smiled. “And then I’m going to say that you’re here to take up where your husband left off.”
She stared at him, aghast by the suggestion—no, the command—that she was going to become a part of the Yo, Amigo program in some way. She felt manipulated, though no doubt the signs of his intentions had been there from the moment he uttered his invitation.
“I can’t do that,” she protested.
“You will do that,” he corrected, then added more gently, “It’s the only way to find the answers you’re after. You’ll have to blend in, become one of us.”
“I don’t shoot hoops,” she grumbled.
“Then tutor them in reading, teach the girls to sew. We have a kitchen here. You can teach them to cook. It won’t matter what you do. It’ll matter more that you’re here.”
Dana didn’t like the gender-based suggestions. More importantly, she wanted to move her investigation along far faster than the snail’s pace he was suggesting. And yet, she conceded reluctantly, she could see the sense of what he was saying. She knew just how distrustful these toughened street kids were likely to be. If she came on too forcefully, demanded too much, they would walk away without a backward glance.
But Rick’s way would also risk getting involved, putting her emotions on the line. She didn’t want to know these ex–gang members. She didn’t want to take a chance that she might actually come to feel something for them as Ken had felt.
No, she didn’t like his plan at all, but she would do as he was demanding. She could tell from his unrelenting expression that he wasn’t giving her a choice.
“Let’s go,” she said through gritted teeth.
This time he didn’t try to stop her from getting out of the car. But when they reached the door that she had used the night before, he blocked her way. Once again, she felt the power of his presence, the heat of his body, his taut strength.
“If you find out anything, anything at all, you will tell me about it first,” he said, his gaze locked with hers.
“You told me I wouldn’t find anything here,” she taunted.
“I don’t believe you will, but there’s always an outside chance I’m wrong. I don’t want you tearing off half-cocked and getting yourself killed.”
“Why? You’d be rid of a serious thorn in your side.”
“No,” he corrected. “I’d have one more death on my conscience. Ken’s already keeps me awake at night.”
There was just enough torment in his voice that Dana had no choice but to believe him. She knew all about that kind of guilt and anguish. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep herself since the murder.
Even so, she was far from ready to forgive him, even further from being willing to trust him. He was a means to an end at the moment. He was giving her entry into a world
She reached for the door handle, but before she could open it, his hand closed over hers. The shock of his touch, the heat of it, stilled her. He waited until she turned to look at him before he said a word.
“One bit of caution—proceed slowly in there. If you go in like a private detective, they won’t talk.” His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve taken a huge gamble by bringing you here. I won’t let you hassle them.”
“You promised—” she began, only to be cut off.
“I promised to bring you here, to let you get to know what we’re all about. If you get answers as a result of that, fine. If you can’t live with that, I’ll take you back home right now.”
She didn’t like the rules. Nor was she certain how she would operate within them. “How will you explain me?”
For a moment he seemed to be weighing the alternatives. “I’m going to tell them who you are,” he replied eventually.
Her gaze narrowed. There was more. She could read it in his eyes. “And then what?”
He smiled. “And then I’m going to say that you’re here to take up where your husband left off.”
She stared at him, aghast by the suggestion—no, the command—that she was going to become a part of the Yo, Amigo program in some way. She felt manipulated, though no doubt the signs of his intentions had been there from the moment he uttered his invitation.
“I can’t do that,” she protested.
“You will do that,” he corrected, then added more gently, “It’s the only way to find the answers you’re after. You’ll have to blend in, become one of us.”
“I don’t shoot hoops,” she grumbled.
“Then tutor them in reading, teach the girls to sew. We have a kitchen here. You can teach them to cook. It won’t matter what you do. It’ll matter more that you’re here.”
Dana didn’t like the gender-based suggestions. More importantly, she wanted to move her investigation along far faster than the snail’s pace he was suggesting. And yet, she conceded reluctantly, she could see the sense of what he was saying. She knew just how distrustful these toughened street kids were likely to be. If she came on too forcefully, demanded too much, they would walk away without a backward glance.
But Rick’s way would also risk getting involved, putting her emotions on the line. She didn’t want to know these ex–gang members. She didn’t want to take a chance that she might actually come to feel something for them as Ken had felt.
No, she didn’t like his plan at all, but she would do as he was demanding. She could tell from his unrelenting expression that he wasn’t giving her a choice.
“Let’s go,” she said through gritted teeth.
This time he didn’t try to stop her from getting out of the car. But when they reached the door that she had used the night before, he blocked her way. Once again, she felt the power of his presence, the heat of his body, his taut strength.
“If you find out anything, anything at all, you will tell me about it first,” he said, his gaze locked with hers.
“You told me I wouldn’t find anything here,” she taunted.
“I don’t believe you will, but there’s always an outside chance I’m wrong. I don’t want you tearing off half-cocked and getting yourself killed.”
“Why? You’d be rid of a serious thorn in your side.”
“No,” he corrected. “I’d have one more death on my conscience. Ken’s already keeps me awake at night.”
There was just enough torment in his voice that Dana had no choice but to believe him. She knew all about that kind of guilt and anguish. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep herself since the murder.
Even so, she was far from ready to forgive him, even further from being willing to trust him. He was a means to an end at the moment. He was giving her entry into a world
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