How to Seduce a Cavanaugh

“A month,” Kelly said.

“With a partner,” she added as clarification since Durant wasn’t answering her. Not if that disinterested look he’d just sent her way was any indication. “Is that the life expectancy of a partnership with you?”

Kane shrugged, apparently totally uninterested in her choice of topics to verbally pursue. “Give or take,” he finally replied vaguely, aware of the way she was looking at him, waiting for an answer. “I don’t keep track.”

Or so he thought.

Kelly nodded. “Fair enough,” she told him. “I just wanted to know what I was up against, that’s all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kane asked.

“I’m going to look at this partnership as a challenge. If I can hang on beyond a certain point, say longer than your longest lasting partner, then it’s okay. I made it. You know, kind of like staying on a bucking horse for eight seconds.”

He looked at her as if she were a few cards short of a complete deck. If the woman wanted a challenge, he had one for her.

***

Be sure to check out the next books in

Cavanaugh Justice— Where Aurora’s finest are always in action.

How to Seduce a Cavanaugh

Marie Ferrarella

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award-winning author MARIE FERRARELLA has written more than two hundred and fifty books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.

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Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Fear clawed at his small, heaving chest. It felt like long, sharp nails tearing into his very flesh.

He was aware of breathing hard, of being dizzy because he was unable to get in enough air.

A feeling of déjà vu oppressively weighed him down, pressing harder than an actual boulder could.

He’d been through this before, felt this way before, even though it was happening right before his eyes, so achingly vivid he couldn’t look away.

Not even for an instant.

Not even if his own survival depended on it.

Kane Durant was small for his age. But even if he hadn’t been, if he had been bigger and stronger than he actually was, he still would have been powerless against the big man.

Powerless to make him stop.

His father was a hulk of a man and only seemed to become more so when he was enraged.

Just the way he was now.

Enraged and spewing obscenities, hurling them at the trembling woman kneeling before him on the cracked vinyl kitchen floor.

The bruises on his mother’s face from his father’s last eruption were just now beginning to fade. The arguments, the rages, they were occurring more and more frequently these days, leaving an ugly rainbow of colors on every limb of her body.

The sense of constant anxiety never really went away anymore.

From the very moment he opened his eyes in the morning, Kane felt the frightening tension. Even during the lulls, which came less and less frequently, he knew it was just a matter of time before the next vicious outburst happened.

He’d been in his bed, fearfully watching the shadows moving on his ceiling when he’d heard his father bellowing, heard his mother crying out in fear and then in pain.

He was just a scrawny boy of ten, but the moment he heard his father yelling at his mother, he had abandoned his room and run into the kitchen to try to help his mother in any way he could.

To protect her.

Thin and fragile, she was no match against his father’s wrath.

Neither was he, but maybe together...

Kane had gotten to the kitchen just as his father’s anger had hit a new high.

The flash from the handgun seized his attention as he struggled to process what he saw. What his brain already knew. He was terrified.

He ran to his mother to block the bullet, to divert it from its course.

But he was too late.

The bullet from his father’s handgun had found its intended target less than a split second earlier.

His mother’s face abruptly froze, highlighting surprise and pain. And then she pitched backward. Blood poured freely from the newly created hole in her abdomen.

Kane opened his mouth to scream his protest, but nothing came out. Not a single sound came out to express his fear, his anger, his horrified outrage at the senselessness of it all.

Unable to voice his reaction, Kane put all his energy into attempting to stop the bleeding. But his hands were too small for the task. Blood squeezed its way through his delicate, ineffective fingers, underscoring his helplessness.

“Don’t die. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me,” he begged the woman who was already gone.

His voice only served to irritate his father further. “You love her that much, you little bastard? Then you’re going to join her!”

The next second he heard his father’s gun discharge. Felt something sharp and painful tear through his chest. Felt something else oozing out.

Blood.

Was that his?

Yes. He was bleeding. His blood was mingling with his mother’s.

He sank to his knees in slow motion.

At least it felt that way. The last thing he heard was the roar of the handgun again.

The last thing he saw was his father going down.

A cry of traumatized anguish tore from his lips. The sound of heavy breathing echoed in the empty room as he bolted upright.

In his bed.

In his bedroom.

Kane looked down at his torso, checking for bullet holes. There were none. Just the scar of one, but it had healed.

He was soaked, but it was with sweat, not blood.

Shaking, Kane dragged his hand through his hair, doing his best to reclaim some sort of calm, and then resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to find it in what was left of the night.

The dream had found him again.

He hadn’t had it in a long, long time, but now it was back, forcing him back to square one. He had to work at getting himself back on an even keel.

Again.

He was exhausted—and restless beyond words.

Throwing off the covers, he got up. Beyond his window, darkness still embraced the city of Aurora, but there was no way he was going to go back to sleep. Not now.

Resigned, Kane made his way to the kitchen, fervently wishing he hadn’t given up smoking last month.

It looked as if his nerves were going to have to calm down on their own.

He bit off a couple of colorful words under his breath.

It wasn’t going to be easy.

Chapter 1

The detective was ignoring her.

Well, not so much ignoring her, Kelly Cavanaugh silently amended, as acting as if no one else was sitting in the chief of detectives’ office, waiting for the man to come in, except for him.

They actually did know one another—by sight at least—from the department they both worked in. Robbery, a division in the Aurora Police Department, wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t exactly miniscule, either. She saw Detective Kane Durant in passing almost every day. He’d even nodded at her a couple of times in response to her voiced greeting, but they had never had any sort of conversation—not even an inane one—and that was on him. Kane Durant apparently wasn’t one for small talk.

He didn’t seem to be one for big talk, either, Kelly thought now, even though she had tried to draw him out a time or two. His responses involved the absolute minimum of words. If something called for five words, she would offer ten if not more. Durant, however, seemed to be the type who would be hard-pressed to render more than three under the same set of circumstances.

Doing her best not to fidget, Kelly tried engaging the stoic, dark blond detective in some sort of conversation now. The reason for that was her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

“Do you know why we’re here?”

Durant continued staring straight ahead, as if he was memorizing the titles of the books on the shelf behind the chief’s desk.

Just when she decided he was going to continue ignoring her, the detective answered in a monotone voice, “Chief of ds called us in.”

She took a breath. “Fair enough.” If the man had been any stiffer he easily could have played the part of the Tin Man in a production of The Wizard of Oz. Willing to give the stoic detective the benefit of the doubt, she told herself that maybe she should have been more specific in her query. “Do you know why he called us in?”

“No.” The answer was given to the bookshelf, not to her.

Kelly shook her head. She’d heard of the strong, silent type, but this was carrying things a bit too far. “You know, I had a hand puppet as a kid that talked more than you do.”

This time, Kane spared her a glance before turning back around. It wasn’t exactly the kind of look that warmed a person’s soul, Kelly noted. It was meant to cut someone dead.

Lucky for her, she had a thick skin and didn’t take offense easily.

Just then she heard the door behind them open.

Thank God! Kelly thought.

It was all she could do to keep from breathing a huge sigh of relief. The ordeal of sitting here with this exceptionally good-looking sphinx hopefully would be over with soon.

To acknowledge the chief’s presence, both she and the silent detective rose from their seats.

“Sorry to keep you two waiting. I’m afraid I’m running a little behind today. But I didn’t have Raleigh bring you here to listen to my excuses.”

Rounding his desk, Brian Cavanaugh, Aurora PD’s chief of detectives as well as Kelly’s granduncle, greeted both detectives in his office with an easy smile.

“Sit, please,” he told the duo, underscoring his words with a hand gesture that indicated they should sink back into the seats they had vacated.

Like everyone else in his family, Brian Cavanaugh had worked his way up in the ranks. He’d held down his current position for a number of years now and, by all accounts, the men and women who served under him gave him not only their undying loyalty but their admiration, as well. That, to him, was far better than any badge of honor or official recognition he would ever receive.

His intent was to always do right by the department’s men and women.

“Do either of you know why I called you in?” Brian asked, looking from the solemn-faced detective to his far more cheerful grandniece.

He was looking at two completely different people. One reminded him of a sunny spring morning; the other made him think of a pending storm rolling in in the middle of the night.

Neither, however, was answering the question he had posed.

This was Brian’s first official meeting with Durant and, actually, his first professional meeting with Kelly, as well. The handful of other times he had interacted with the young woman had all taken place at his older brother’s house. Andrew Cavanaugh, the former police chief, was wont to use absolutely any available excuse to get their extended clan together to break bread and just unwind.

Brian regarded the two detectives for a moment before assuring them genially, “There’re no points taken off for a wrong answer.”

Kelly slanted a quick glance at the man to her right. His was a profile that lent itself well to one of those Greek statues she’d seen on the museum field trips her mother had insisted on years ago.

Durant probably had the warmth of one of those statues as well, she couldn’t help thinking. She tried to recall if she had ever seen the man smile when their paths had crossed.

She couldn’t remember a single instance.

Since the stoic detective wasn’t saying anything, she decided to go first. “Well, I don’t know about Detective Durant, but I’m thinking that you called me in because of Amos.”

Even saying the man’s name brought in a wave of sadness to her.

Detective Amos Barkley was her partner. Or rather, he had been until last week. After twenty-one years on the job, her friend and mentor had put in his papers. He’d said he’d protected and served long enough, and now he wanted to do something for himself. Informing her before he made his intentions public, Amos had told her that he wanted to go fishing “before I’m just too damn old to hold on to a fishing pole and land anything bigger than a minnow.”

Those also had been his words, addressed to people in the squad room, during the retirement party she had thrown for him at the station. It had made her wonder if Amos had been trying to convince his friends or himself as to his reasons for retiring.

Kane, she’d noted at the time, had been the only one who hadn’t officially attended Amos’s retirement party. He’d been in squad room during the celebration, but he had employed what she could only think of as tunnel vision, managing to block out everything that had been going on except for the paperwork he’d been focusing on.

He’d even turned down a slice of the three-layer cake she’d had brought in from Amos’s favorite bakery. Detectives from several other departments had turned up for the going-away party, but Durant had deliberately isolated himself from it and then promptly disappeared at the very height of the celebration.

Brian nodded at her response. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “That’s also, in part, why I called you in as well, Durant,” he said, this time directing his words to the solemn detective. “Captain Collins,” he went on, citing the head of the robbery division, “told me that your current partner requested to either have a new partner assigned to him or to be transferred out of Robbery and into another division entirely. According to him, he didn’t care which it was, as long as it didn’t involve you.”

Brian paused as if he was waiting for his words to sink in.

“How many partners does that make, detective?” he asked the younger man.

“Three,” Kane replied in a voice that gave no indication if it bothered him in the slightest that his partners all had sought to get away from him.

“Since you were assigned to Robbery,” Brian agreed, nodding his head. “And how many partners before that?”

“Two,” Kane replied, again without hesitation.

“Three,” Brian corrected.

“Technically, Rawlins didn’t request a transfer,” Kane said, his voice devoid of emotion. “He was shot and decided he wanted to pursue a different career.” It was highly likely that had that not happened, the man would have requested a transfer, but Kane assumed the chief was dealing in facts, not conjecture.

Brian inclined his head as if willing to go with the younger man’s version of the circumstances.

“I’ll accept that,” Brian allowed. And then he got down to the heart of the meeting he had called. “You’re a good, reliable detective who is outstanding at his job,” he acknowledged. “At the same time, unfortunately, getting along with people doesn’t exactly seem to be your strong suit, Detective Durant.”

Kane didn’t waste his breath by denying the chief’s observation. There was no point, especially since what the chief said was essentially true.

“I do better on my own, sir,” Kane replied quietly.

“You may think that,” Brian allowed. “But no one does better alone.” He said the words like a man who was firmly convinced in his stand. He left no room for either argument or speculation. “You need a partner to pick up on things you might have missed, to watch your back and,” he continued, looking at Kane pointedly, “to keep you grounded.”

The last thing he needed was someone grounding him. To Kane that was just another way of saying “interfering.” He didn’t like being interfered with.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t need someone yapping at my heels, telling me what they think I’m doing wrong,” Kane told the chief. Cavanaugh was a fair and reasonable man. There had to be a way to get the chief to agree to let him go solo.

“Agreed,” Brian replied genially. Then amusement curved the corners of his mouth. “Which is exactly why I’m not assigning you to partner with one of the department’s German shepherds.”

Brian leaned back in his chair and gestured first toward Kane, then toward his grandniece whose performance was at times a little bit unorthodox. But by all counts she was both professional and tenacious—and she got results, which was what he was ultimately shooting for.

He smiled at her now, just before saying, “Detective Kane Durant, meet your new partner, Detective Kelly Cavanaugh.”

Durant’s expression never changed, Kelly observed, but she thought she saw a flicker—just for a moment—in the other man’s eyes that told her the thirty-two-year-old detective was far from happy about this newest coupling that was taking place.

“I’m not an unreasonable man,” Brian went on to say. “If this partnership isn’t working for either one of you after, say, a couple of months, you can request a reassignment and I’ll consider the matter. Nothing is written in stone,” the chief went on to assure the duo.

“But before either one of you decides to make that request, I want you to give this partnership a decent try.” He emphasized the words decent try. “Remember, nothing worth keeping comes easy. The rewards that are the sweetest are those that are hard-won.” Deep green eyes swept over both detectives, one at a time. “Do I make myself clear?” he asked.

“Perfectly,” Kelly replied with all but unbridled enthusiasm.

“Yes, sir,” Kane said. His low-key voice was all but flat.

Satisfied, Brian nodded. “Good. Now good luck—and goodbye,” he added. Just like that the meeting was over.

Kane lost no time leaving the chief’s office. Walking briskly through the outer office, he headed straight for the elevators.

Kelly found she had to lengthen her stride to keep up with her new partner. The latter gave absolutely no indication he wanted her to catch up.

He certainly wasn’t willing to slow down long enough for her to accomplish that small thing.

Too bad, she thought, lengthening her stride with determination.

Kelly arrived at the elevators just after her new partner did.

The man was going to take some getting used to. Right now, he seemed to be all blustery, like a bull confined in the proverbial china shop. He couldn’t seem to turn around without knocking something down and breaking it.

The worst part, she thought, was that he was aware of what he was doing—and not even the most subtle display of remorse was forthcoming from the man. There was obviously a good reason for that—he was feeling no remorse. Or, if by some chance he actually was, he was exceedingly careful not to show it.

He wasn’t like the other detectives. Something had made him different. It was up to her to make different synonymous with extra capable. Her granduncle saw qualities in this man, she could tell. She’d heard that Brian Cavanaugh had never been wrong when it came to doing what was best for his police force.

Although she was somewhat skeptical about this particular arrangement working out, Kelly decided she was just going to have to proceed on faith.

“How do you want to do this?” she asked her new partner brightly, breaking what was beginning to feel like an ironclad silence. Kane had given absolutely no indication he would say anything if she didn’t prod him into it.

“‘This’?” Kane echoed. The elevator arrived and he stepped inside. He noted how she seemed almost to hop in, claiming the space directly next to him.

Terrific, the chief had assigned him to partner up with a rabbit, Kane thought darkly. A chipper, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed rabbit.

The idea did not inspire him.

“Yes,” she confirmed. After almost a minute went by, she realized that her new partner didn’t have a clue what she was referring to. So she elaborated. “You have your desk and I have mine,” she pointed out.

“So? Is this where you tell me something informative about desks?” he asked with more than a touch of impatience in his voice.

“So one of us has to make a move. Amos cleared his desk out before he left,” she told him, hoping that Muhammad would opt to come to the mountain rather than deal with the mountain coming to him. “Your partner did the same when he transferred out of Robbery and into Vice,” she concluded.

Kane looked at her sharply. Just how closely had this eager little beaver been paying attention? His most recent partner, Woodward, had abruptly just picked up and left. Since the chief of ds had known all about it, Kane assumed Woodward had left with the man’s blessings—his didn’t count, even though he’d made no secret that he was glad to be rid of the man. Until just now, he’d had no idea where the detective had gone, nor had he cared, as long as it was away from him.

He just assumed it would be the same deal when it came to his current partner. A few weeks would go by—maybe even the two months to which the chief had referred—and then his newest so-called partner would bolt, and he would be more than glad to be rid of her.

But for now, he had a question he wanted answered. “How do you know which division Woodward transferred to?”

“I pay attention,” she answered simply. She waited for Kane to answer her question about which of them would be transferring desks, but that didn’t look as if it was about to happen. She began to doubt he was even listening to her.

In that case, the man had a serious attention deficit disorder. She tried again, since it was obvious that what she considered to be a possible dilemma didn’t seem to have occurred to her new partner at all.

“Okay,” she began again. “Now, do you want to switch desks or should—”

A curt “No” cut her down midsentence. Trying hard not to look annoyed, Kelly tried another approach to pin the man down.

Was he saying no to everything or just to the first part of her sentence? Kelly dug deep for her patience.

“Do you mean no, you don’t want to switch desks? Or no, you don’t—”

Kane cut in as if she wasn’t saying anything—at least nothing worthwhile. “You want me to hire a skywriter? Would that help you understand?” he asked impatiently.