Trust by Design (Colorado Trust 2)

She backed up, bumped into him, and then stopped.

“Gina, I said go.”

She could literally hear his teeth were clenched, but she didn’t care as she noticed who was exiting the vehicle. “Those are the same cops who were at my office.” She glanced up at him, absently noting he’d pulled his shirt on. “How did they know I was here?”

He didn’t answer as the two officers walked to the door.

“Mr. Daley, Ms. Allen,” the female said. “Good morning.”

Dean remained silent, so Gina replied, “Good morning. Officer Nilsen, right?”

“Yes, and Officer Mueller.” She indicated the stocky blond man who’d dusted for prints, but her attention didn’t shift from Gina.

“Are you here about the break-in at my office?”

“Actually, we need to speak to Mr. Daley,” Officer Mueller said.

Gina looked up at the man next to her and didn’t like the grim expression on his face one bit. “What’s going on?”

“Maybe it’s better if we—”

The female cop quickly spoke over her partner. “We’re following up on a complaint of assault.”

She stepped back and gaped at Dean. “You called them about the other night?”

His expression darkened even more.

“Ms. Allen, the complaint is against, Mr. Daley,” the woman informed her.

That’s right, he hadn’t been happy to see them. But now she was thoroughly confused. Before she could ask any more questions, he asked one of his own. “Am I under arrest?”

“No.”

“Do I need to call my lawyer?”

“We’re just here to ask you a few questions. If you want a lawyer present, you can have them meet us down at the precinct. Your call.”

The cold authority in the woman’s voice sent a shiver of dread down Gina’s spine.

Dean only hesitated an extra moment before swinging the door open. “You might as well come in because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need some coffee for this.”

He didn’t wait for their agreement, just stalked back toward the kitchen. Officer Mueller extended a hand for Gina to follow, so she led the way after they’d shut the door. Once she took a seat in the chair at the island counter, the cops each took up a position on opposite ends.

It was strange, but she felt like they were making sure she was protected. In fact, in the brighter light of the kitchen, she had the uncomfortable feeling the woman’s sharp gaze was focused on the multitude of colors still gracing her face.

Resisting the urge to touch the shiner, she repeated, “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”

Who would Dean have—

The realization hit like a tornado, swirling her up in a maelstrom of dread, anger, disbelief, and amazement. Oh, no. When he turned around from the coffee maker, his gaze locked with hers. She swallowed hard at the guarded look in his eyes, then couldn’t help but drop her gaze to his right hand.

His bruised right hand.

“You went to see Jackson, didn’t you?”

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes answered the question.

She wasn’t generally a violent person. Hated gory movies and sports where people got beat up. But the thought of him tracking Jackson down to give him a little payback hit her in the most unexpected, elemental way. Staring into his defiant brown eyes, she knew if anyone ever asked her when she fell in love with Dean Daley, it would be this moment.