Zach sat next to Kim, and before she knew what was happening, he had her on his lap

She squealed, but his lips were against hers in a kiss so hungry he thought he might have hurt her. He tried to pull away, but her arms went around his neck, and she held on to him. “You’d better not start something and not finish,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

He pulled the pins from her hair and pitched them onto the floor. “Zachary,” she protested lightly, “I need those for later.”

“Too bad,” he said as he pulled the last one from the bun, and then he unwound it and let the soft strands of hair spiral into his palm. Kim let her head fall back and he drove his fingers through her hair from her scalp all the way to the soft ends. She purred and he bit her neck. Kim dissolved in his arms, curling into him. “You’re going to make me be very bad, Zach,” she said, her mouth against his neck where she licked him.

“Baby, sometimes, bad is good.”

CARMEN GREEN

was born in Buffalo, New York, and had plans to study law before becoming a published author. While raising her three children, she wrote her first book on legal pads and transcribed it onto a computer on weekends before selling it in 1993. Since that time, she has sold more than thirty novels and novellas, and is proud that one of her books was made into a TV movie in 2001, Commitments, in which she had a cameo role.

In addition to writing full-time, Carmen is now a mom of four and lives in the Southeast. You can contact Carmen at www.carmengreen.blogspot.com or carmengreen1201@yahoo.com.

That Perfect Moment
Carmen Green

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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That Perfect Moment is dedicated to

Trevor Malcolm McCray for being an ardent supporter

forever. And to the sparrow for always having my back.

I miss you.

Dear Reader,

The Hoods are the best, aren’t they? I wanted to create a family of men and women who worked hard at being good and doing good for everyone. They are the law and order we dream about—upstanding people who would risk their lives for what’s right—and they’re sexy, too. What an awesome combination.

I hope you enjoy Zach Hood’s story. He’s so easy to fall in love with.

Thinking of you,

Carmen Green

Thank you to The Art Institute of Atlanta-Decatur

Fashion Department, most especially Tonya Felton

and Chanel Thorpe for making me look wonderful

for my photo shoot. Also, special thanks to

Professor Courtney Hammond for all his sage advice.

To my photographer, Marie Williams of Top Studios,

I very much appreciate your ability to make me

look so wonderful. To my family: Jeremy, Danielle

and Christina, my parents, and brothers and sisters,

always amazing, always in my heart. Finally, to the

team of doctors, nurses and everyone else who put me

back together again, and continue to work with me,

I thank you all so very much for everything.

Contents

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 1

Everyone in the courtroom waited in tense anticipation of the sentence Judge Kimberly Thurman was about to hand down to the serial carjacking teenager who’d had no regard for his victims. She referred to the paperwork in front of her, then asked the impudent defendant to stand.

Security specialist and part owner of Hood Investigations Incorporated, Zachary Hood sat in the last row of the gallery of the nearly empty courtroom and watched the judge’s reaction to the young man. With her hands folded, she leaned forward, her shoulders making her robe look stately, as she ignored his insolence. Her hair, which he knew was long and straight, had been pulled into a tight bun, accenting a regal face, allowing long platinum earrings to highlight her beauty. Her eyelashes were long and black, and fanned defined cheekbones that had been subtly dusted with bronzer.

Zach noticed every detail. His job was to miss nothing, and he took pride in it. His attention was brought back to the young defendant as the judge waited for him to finish adopting his wide-legged—head cocked to the side—stance of defiance. She didn’t even bother to comment when he intentionally smacked his hands together in front of himself as a general sign of disrespect to her, and the court.

The male deputies showed more annoyance than she. “Thaddeus Drake Baxter,” the judge began with a firm tone. “The sentencing recommendation of eighteen months in jail with six months for time served has been rejected by the court. You are hereby sentenced to seventeen years in prison to be served at a state facility to be determined by the State of Georgia Department of Corrections. This sentence is to be served concurrently.” The judge then read several case numbers to the clerk of the court, and the year breakdown for each violation.

She then looked Thaddeus Drake Baxter in the eye, and that’s when Zachary saw a flicker of regret. It was there and gone so fast, but he knew he hadn’t missed it.

“This is the judgment of the court, so say we one and all.”

The defendant’s family reacted with screams of protest. “For carjacking? That’s insane,” his mother wailed. The rest of the family sobbed. Four Baxter men glared at her, one shouting profanely.

The gavel’s sharp rap against the pad caught everyone’s attention. “Quiet in the courtroom!” The judge’s calm demeanor vanished. The gripped gavel was pointed directly at the family. “The evidence was presented and a verdict delivered. You knew this day was coming, Mrs. Baxter. The citizens of this state and the court system did what you weren’t able to do—control your son. He won’t hurt another woman for a very long time, if ever again.”

The stunningly beautiful judge peered over the bench at the large male members of the Baxter clan and didn’t flinch.

Every male in a position of authority was poised to protect the judge, although she seemed able to handle herself. Still, Zach, himself, would have vaulted seven rows to subdue the Baxter men.

“This is wrong, dead wrong,” the largest of the uncles said. His face in profile, he looked more feral than the rest of them. The elder Baxter looked like he’d raised hell in his day, and had matched it blow for agonizing blow. A healed wound was etched into his face like Interstate 75 was in Georgia’s highway infrastructure. His nose had been broken several times, and his dark eyes were flat. His face showed the knocks and bruises of a man who hadn’t ever been able to control himself; he still lacked that ability.

He stood in the second row, but leaned over the back of the first row as if that would get him closer to the judge. “You gon’ get—” he threatened.

The judge banged the gavel, cutting him off just as a deputy wrenched the man’s arm behind his back, slapping the cuffs onto his wrist in a quick move. Out of instinct, Zach had risen and advanced.

Baxter’s roar of pain was that of a lion, and it cut through the silence in the courtroom.

The judge was the only one who spoke. “If you finish that sentence, you will be arrested and charged with threatening an officer of the court, and making terroristic threats.” Her eyebrow inched up and Baxter blew air through his nose.

“Your bail will be set at two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. When you are convicted, you will serve day for day of your sentence in a federal prison. Now that you fully understand the implications of your words, Mr. Baxter, do you have anything else you’d like to say to me?”

Zach had moved against the wall, and while he didn’t have his gun, he didn’t feel he needed it in a room full of sheriff deputies and Baxter men. It would be a brawl if they started anything. The family looked that unpredictable. Baxter’s teeth were bared as he glared at her, his family stunned and quiet. The hell seeped out of him like sweat off moist skin. His brother reached back and pulled him by the middle of his shirt, and gave a stilted nod of apology to the judge.

The deputy who had detained Baxter looked at the judge and she gave a barely noticeable signal to release him. The family quietly left the courtroom.

Amazed that the man had even tried to disrespect the judge in that manner, Zach turned his attention back to the defendant. His posture of bravado was gone, and he was now a lost nineteen-year-old, leaning on his attorney, sobbing. The young man was led away, the tension, however, taking longer to dissipate.

Despite being thirty-four, two years his senior, the judge looked younger than her years. Zach didn’t think Judge Thurman remembered meeting him at the four-day course he’d taught on safety for members of the High Court. That conference had been two years ago. At that time she’d been vehemently opposed to judges carrying weapons, but that had been before the Courthouse Shooter had struck Atlanta, Georgia. Today, Judge Thurman looked like she could handle anything thrown her way. He slid open the paper he’d received and read it again. Someone is trying to kill me. I need your help. Obviously, she was in trouble.

The judge dismissed court, and everyone stood until she left the bench. An aide led Zach to her outer office and he sat, taking everything in. The double glass doors leading to her inner sanctum could be accessed by an electronic key card. The simplicity of the outer office appealed to him. There were only two assistant’s desks, with visitor’s chairs that were placed ten feet away from the desks, for privacy’s sake.

Zach waited, his thoughts returning to the judge. He could see why someone would want to kill her, but he couldn’t imagine anyone being bad enough to try. Excitement coursed through his body like an energy drink, and he welcomed the adrenaline. This feeling didn’t happen often and when it did, he took notice. He was going to win this account, but first he had to hear what the judge had to say.

Zach stood just as the door opened. “The judge will see you now.”

Chapter 2

Judge Kimberly Thurman made being a Superior Court judge look sexy as she sat in her office on Courtland Street in Atlanta, Georgia. There was no boxy brown desk, with the obligatory picture frames of cats or kids covering the wooden space. Her desk was made of clear beveled green glass, accented with a computer that was built into the flat surface. The judge sat cozily on a sofa of Italian leather in an alcove in front of a window so she could catch the soft afternoon sunlight.

Zach was escorted in by her assistant Clark. “Your Honor? Do you mind moving over here?” Zach asked. If there was a threat against her, he wanted her to live long enough to tell him about it. Sitting by the window as she was, she was in a direct firing path should a sniper choose to access the roof of the building across the street. It didn’t matter that the building was police headquarters. Anything was possible.

“I’m glad you’re taking my concerns so seriously. Do you think someone is out there now?” The judge stood and moved.

“Having you move is just a precaution. Finding out would be my business. I don’t know if you remember me. We met at the four-day Symposium on Judges’ Safety two years ago. Hood’s position was that judges needed self-defense training and to improve safety in your travels from work and home. Your families needed to be more aware of safety issues, also.”

Loneliness lifted her lips in a soft tilt as she brushed her fingers against her cheek. “I remember you. I was opposed to judges carrying guns on the bench. My views have changed, given the events that have taken place in our city. The self-defense course you taught got all the female judges talking.”

Zach chuckled. “Did it?”

“Yes, sir, it most certainly did.” She smiled back. “That’s when I checked out Hood Investigations. Your outfit was hired because it was an impartial third party. A couple years ago, there was a big murder case, and members of our elite police units were going before several of us judges. Officers were put in jail, and Atlanta was thrust into the national spotlight.

“When the symposium came about, they decided against using our own officers for training because they didn’t want to mix our police with the judges. They didn’t want there to be even the hint of impropriety. For the record, I’ve taken concerns about my safety to the chief twice, and he’s all but patted me on the head and told me to go away. I’m not begging him to help me. Once I knew Hood was a legitimate security company and that your success rate was one hundred percent, I wanted to hire you.”

“I remember you from self-defense class. You beat the hell out of my dummy.”

Kim burst out laughing. “That’s what he was there for.”

Zach nodded, relaxing a bit, thinking back. “We met again six months ago, Judge.”

Kim thought for a moment. “I don’t recall.”

“I appeared in your courtroom.”

Her eyes clouded and disappointment crashed in like the surf. “Oh, no.”

“It’s not what you think. I wasn’t in trouble. We worked marathon court. The great Fulton County backlog.”

Kim pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, yes, I do remember you! What a nightmare that was. Three thousand cases. Oh, my goodness. The governor and the U.S. Attorney ordered the court system to process the cases within one month. How many fugitives did Hood bring before us?”

“We captured fifty of Atlanta’s Missing and Wanted. We didn’t sleep or eat for months before those fugitives had to appear in court. We went into hell to find those men and women.” He snapped his fingers. “I remember your hair was shorter then. You yelled at me! My fugitive was talking in court, and you thought it was me.”

They both started laughing.

Kim clasped her hands together. “I’d hoped you’d forgotten that. We were under a tremendous amount of pressure. Sorry,” she said shyly.

“No worries. You were just doing your job.”

“We all were. That’s why I called for you, Zach. If you and Hood Investigations could find fifty people who didn’t want to be found, you can find out who’s trying to kill me. Can you help me?”

His gaze met hers, and he got lost in the yearning and the question there. She wanted to live, and she needed his help.

Zach found himself looking at the judge as a woman and not a client. He focused on the carpet and realigned his thoughts. Before he did something unprofessional, he pulled out his computer. “Yes, I believe we can. Let me tell you what Hood Investigations can do for you.”

Zach pulled up the presentation that took less than ten minutes. “You would never be alone. There are four men on the team and three women. We work multiple cases, but in your case, we’d all work together due to the high priority.”

“Because of my status as a judge?”

“Yes.” Zach stopped the PowerPoint presentation from moving forward. “And, you called us. I know the marshals automatically provide security for you. But you have concerns for your safety, and that means you don’t trust them implicitly. Second, if a judge has a cause for concern, and you’re approaching Hood, you’ve gone through the regular channels and didn’t get the results you wanted. Are you concerned about people like the Baxters?”

“On a minor level, but my concern is that the threats against me may have been an ongoing thing, and we ignored the initial signs. I don’t want to sound paranoid.”

Her confidence wavered and she looked so unsure of herself. So like a vulnerable woman. For years he’d been teaching women to follow their instincts; the only thing that had kept some of them alive. He had no doubt the judge believed someone was after her. He wondered if it was true.

There was a double knock at the door and the judge’s assistant Clark walked in. Tall and well groomed, the thin man looked at his boss affectionately, then at Zach. “I had to eavesdrop on her, because I knew she wasn’t going to tell you everything.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Judge Thurman?”

“Clark, don’t make me look bad.” Even as she said the words, she made room for him on the spacious couch. He sat near her and she touched his hand.

“She’s going to get killed unless she’s honest. Mr. Hood, I insisted she contact you. I was trying to protect Judge Thurman when we were attacked one night after dance class.”

“Are you two a couple?” Zach asked, and couldn’t help frowning, because Clark seemed far more feminine than he did masculine.

Clark closed his eyes, smiled and shook his head. The judge didn’t look offended at all.

“No, but in my opinion, I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”

Judge Thurman chuckled, her smile affectionate, friendly.

“That is, until someone broke my arm and I’m leaving for three weeks to Puerto Vallarta. I can’t go on vacation until I know she’s going to be taken care of.” Clark looked at her, then Zach, with real concern in his eyes. “I may joke, but I’m very serious. Someone is trying to kill her and I’m worried.”

Zach nodded. “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

“The judge only has just a few outlets of relaxation. Rocking the babies at the children’s hospital, Chicago step dance classes and going up to Lake Lanier and taking out her boat. She doesn’t have a steady anybody in her life, so last summer she took sailing lessons, but this year, I’m her dance partner.”

Zach looked at the judge, who was watching Clark with a smile on her face. “Please tell all my business, Clark.”

“He’s going to know your underwear color before too long, believe me. Really, Judge, I want you to be alive when I get back. He needs to know how I feel.”

She took a deep breath and looked at Zach, who instinctively knew Clark wasn’t her attacker. His concern was genuine. “Clark’s right, Judge,” Zach said. “I’ll be your bodyguard, your best friend—your everything—before this is over. And you, me. But your secrets will always be safe with me. Finish telling me what happened, Judge.”

“Last Friday night we finished dance class about nine forty-five and stopped at Brickstone for ice cream. The next thing you know, two men grab me, and Clark starts beating them with a tire iron.”

“Was this in the parking lot? Was it before or after you came out of the ice cream store?” Zach asked, looking at Clark’s arm, then at the judge.

“After we exited.”

“Did you notice them following you?”

“No,” Clark said, looking guilty. “But we don’t pay attention like we should. Sometimes we window-shop or get our nails done. We’re really good friends as well as coworkers. We work well professionally, and the judge is a very private person. I respect that.”

Zach looked at their nails and noticed the manicures. He nodded, then shook his head. “I understand the need for discretion, but you also have to trust someone, and that’s Clark.” She nodded. “Okay,” Zach continued, “where’d the tire iron come from?”

“I keep it beneath the back of the driver’s seat. Last year a man tried to rob me outside the gym, so I keep a weapon in my car and in the judge’s car. Anyway, Friday, I got the car door open and got the tire iron, but the bigger man got it away from me. He hit me on my arm with such force, my arm broke. Luckily, I can scream pretty loudly, and the two employees that were in the ice cream store ran out. They threw chairs at the men and blew whistles. The other man who had the judge let her go, and they drove off in a green Explorer SUV.”

“Did you get a tag number?”

“I told the police in the report just SO2. That’s it. I call them every day and they tell me they have nothing.”

Zach wrote down what was said. “No other witnesses?”

“It was very near closing time and everyone was gone. There were cars passing by on the road, but it could have looked like a lovers’ quarrel.” The judge rubbed Clark’s injured arm.

“Please don’t worry about me,” she told her loyal assistant.

He smiled, but their relationship was one that was deeper than a mere office acquaintance. His genuine care had saved her life. “The ice cream store did have cameras embedded in the exterior walls. The video arrived today.”

Clark moved to get up, but she patted his arm. She went to her desk and Zach watched her move. A black sleeveless, jewel-neckline dress hugged a shapely figure that was buxom on top, just the way he liked on a woman. Gold cuffs circled her wrists, while she wore a topaz on her right ring finger. While her hair had been in a conservative bun in court, she’d taken it down in her office, and she had freshened her lipstick, adding a shiny gloss.

In court, she hadn’t smiled once, but inside the confines of the warmly appointed room with the cocoa-colored microsuede couch, red-and-sienna-colored pillows, he could see how this would be a place where she smiled and relaxed in peace before going home. Zach accepted the DVD from the judge and put it in his bag.

“Have there been other attacks?”

The judge nodded, taking her seat. “While I was sitting in the hospital with Clark, I began to recall things. About a month ago, I got the impression someone was following me as I drove around one weekend running errands. I deviated my plans and lost the car, but I never got over that feeling. I alerted the marshals, but with budget cuts, security is an area they trimmed. Without a valid, active threat that I could prove, I was pressured into releasing the extra security detail.”

Zach took notes. “That’s crap. This just happened Friday. You were threatened in court today. There should be security posted outside your office right now. Ridiculous,” Zach told her.

Clark nodded. “I agree. I’ve contracted food poisoning three times this year, and that’s just crazy for it only being the ninth month of the year. I swear, I get poisoned every time Chef Henrietta comes here. I believe it’s her.”

The judge’s disbelieving look told Zach not to believe Clark. “Clark, what do you think this is about?” Zach asked pointedly.

“I suspect it’s jealousy or revenge. An envious colleague or a vengeful defendant or their family.”

“That’s an interesting viewpoint. No ex-employee or ex-lover?”

“No,” Clark replied, followed quickly by a no from the judge.

“If an employee has a problem, they can come to me. I’m tough, but I’m not without a heart.”

“In your opinion, Your Honor,” Zach pushed, testing her temper.

Kim didn’t take the bait. “It could be a stranger. I just wonder why?”

“It’s not a stranger,” Zach said quietly. “But we’ll find out who it is and end it. That’s what Hood does.”

“I like that,” Clark said.

“If I had to ask you for five names of suspects, who would they be?” Zach had directed the question to Clark, but Kim tried to intercept it, seeming to hate not being in control.

“That’s not fair,” Kim cut in.

“Judge, with all due respect, I’m trying to catch someone who is assaulting you. Nothing is impossible. Let him answer.”

“Trevor is the second assistant, and I think he’s rather sketchy. Lieutenant Franklin. Howard Daniels is a sheriff. The Baxters.” His eyes widened as he talked. “And Merrill O’Dell was the judge’s first conviction ten years ago, but he won an appeal recently. He skipped probation and hasn’t been seen since.”

Pleased, Zach wrote down everything Clark said, while Kim managed to look surprised and slightly annoyed.

“I believe Trevor is harmless,” she countered.

“Then where is he?” The sarcastic twist to Clark’s mouth wasn’t lost on Zach. “He’s gone longer than anyone on break, he leaves early all the time, and I’ve put him on two action plans for shoddy work. The man is a terrible assistant. He needs to be fired, yet you won’t do it.” He eyed the judge. “In my humble opinion,” he added, then rolled his eyes.

“He’s not that bad of an assistant, and he’s entitled to be absent once in a while. We all work hard and sometimes people have private lives that require some leeway. I don’t believe Trevor is a threat, but you’re going to do your own investigation.”

Zach nodded. “That’s right.”

Clark hugged the judge, then stood, holding his healing arm as he walked to the office door. “I’m going on three weeks of vacation far away from here, and when I get back I expect things to be different.” He smiled and leaned toward Zach. “Puh-lease. I don’t want to die.”

Zach chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not going to die, and not a hair will be harmed on the judge’s head, either. You remind me of Daniel, my administrative assistant. Nothing but drama.”

Clark’s eyes brightened. “Daniel? Well, I’d better cut your office a check. I’ll drop it off to Daniel on my way out of town.”

Zach looked at the judge, who seemed totally relaxed. Her legs were crossed and she was resting her face on her finger and thumb. “We haven’t decided to do business yet,” Zach told him, his gaze shifting back to the judge.

Clark held the doorknob. “Judge?” he asked softly.

She looked at the Hood Inc. logo that spun in a circle on Zach’s computer. “Notify me when I am able to sign the contract, then cut a check for twenty thousand dollars to Hood Investigations. Also, prepare a dossier on all the marshals who’ve worked the security detail for the past twelve months.”

“I’m going to need one on the staff, including you, Clark.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zach focused on the judge.

“Thank you and enjoy your holiday,” the judge told Clark.

“Mr. Hood, everything is already compiled. I’ll have it in a few minutes, then I’m leaving, okay, Judge?”

The judge waved and the door closed softly. She exhaled a deep breath. “I’m going to miss him.”

“You’ll be down an assistant for a few weeks. Can you manage?”

She looked confident. “I haven’t forgotten how to type. It’s not that we as judges can’t do those forms, we just have so much other work to do. If I get swamped, I can get Trevor to step up.”

“So you do have confidence in him.” Zach appreciated that she seemed to be taking everything in stride, but he wondered how many sleepless nights she’d had wondering when her predator would strike again.

“I do, but I understand Clark’s trepidations. Trevor came in and tried to take his job. There’s been some bad blood between the two of them.”

“What’s Trevor’s last name?”

“Mason.”

He studied her. “Otherwise, how are you holding up?”

There was a silence that he realized was her way of choosing her words. “I’m relieved to know this is under way. But I don’t think it’s a staff member.” She looked unsure again.

“If you had to guess, who do you think it is?”

Her hand caressed from her thigh to her knee. “One of my security detail.”

“Why?”

“They know my schedule. Professional and personal.”

“Have you ever been romantically involved with anyone on the staff or in the court system? Anyone on your detail?”

She was shaking her head before he finished the question. “Never.”

Her quick answer made him think she was lying or that she at least had something to hide. She was gorgeous and she had to know it. The judge was the kind of fine that gave drunk men hope that they could approach her and come up a winner. Regardless of her position or theirs, he knew she had broken a few hearts in the hallowed halls of Georgia Justice.

“How long have you been in the justice system, Judge?”

She seemed eager to debunk his questions about any preconceived notion he might have about her private life. “I’ve been here long enough to know every step I take is being watched by my subordinates, peers and the powers that be. I’m always professional. Period, the end. It’s saved me a lot of grief and heartache that other colleagues haven’t been so fortunate to avoid. I’ve sacrificed,” she said, and the word echoed through his body. “But I made a choice to do that. There is no one, Mr. Hood.”

She was too beautiful to be alone, but there were a lot of women in Atlanta like her. He suddenly felt very protective of her. Zach checked himself, putting distance between them. He busied himself by stowing his computer in his bag. “Okay. It is possible that you could have a jealous relative?”

She shook her head. “There’s no one left but me.”

He swung back to not believing her. How was it that he and his brothers were always meeting and falling in love with women who had no one in the world?

The saliva dried in his mouth and he saw the judge’s eyes narrow. “What are you thinking? You’re squinting at me,” she said directly. Her gaze didn’t waver as she read him as quickly as he’d read her. No woman had ever done that to him before.

Zach sidestepped the quick observation. “We may have to temporarily suspend your extracurricular activities until we neutralize whoever is after you.”

“I can sacrifice dancing, but not the other two. No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I can’t bend on those. Judges live by a code of conduct that restricts our behavior. This code basically controls our lives. I’ve given up a lot of things,” she said, scooting forward on the couch until she could stand. “I’m not causing harm to anyone or anything. I’ll do everything else you say. I’ll be totally under your control as long as I can rock the babies and go out on my boat.”

“Judge—”

“When we’re alone, it’s Kim, please.”

Was she tired of what she was?

The judge went to a mirrored wall, inserted a key and opened a door Zach had no idea was there. From inside she removed a large briefcase and a tailored white purse that was as sleek as it was expensive. “Mr. Hood—”

“Zach,” he said, standing.

Opening the classy white bag, she pulled out a black band that she wound around her hair until it was in a professional bun again. She dipped into the bag once again and came out with a shiny black case. Opening it, she slid black sunglasses into her hand. Leaning over her desk, she electronically signed the contract before stowing her iPad in her bag.

“Zach, you have to make those two things happen or I’ll find another security detail. I heard that Hood Investigations was the best. You not only get your man, but you make them pay without killing them. Between you, me and the wall, that’s my brand of justice. If I go into hiding and they kill me, they win. Can you do the job?”

Zach didn’t try to conceal his smile. She had become the judge again. Her logic was impeccable and refreshing. Women just didn’t think like her. “We do whatever it takes to get our man.”

She handed him her pashmina to drape over her shoulders, and when she turned, she was just beneath him. Kim’s sensuality was as effortless as her beauty.

“Let me make this clear,” Zach continued, denying himself the opportunity to be lulled by her feminine appeal. “If he gets too close, if anyone in your circle is endangered, you do it my way.”

Her face was expressionless, and then he saw it. Respect sparkled like a firecracker on a hot July night. She covered her eyes in black sunglasses and her lips eased into a sexy smile. “You’re the boss.”

The words had never sounded sexier. Never sounded more provocative than they did right then.

“First, we’re going to do background checks. Shake the trees and see what falls out.”

Zach decided right then that he loved her eyebrows because they arched over her dark glasses and told him what her eyes would not. He got her safely into his SUV and they were under way quickly.

He made sure they weren’t being followed, driving through the streets of Atlanta that he knew so well. Kim crossed her legs and he averted his gaze, vowing not to look again. If he was going to get the job done right, the last thing he needed was to want her. “You haven’t told me something,” Zach said. Her body language was different since they’d left the courthouse.

“I didn’t want to mention this while Clark was still in the office. He would never have gone on vacation. This was on the gate when I drove to work this morning.” She handed him a note.

Zach didn’t want to pull over, but he had no choice. He broke protocol and stopped at a well-known restaurant parking lot and shifted the gears into Park, the car facing the street. He needed an easy escape route, if that became necessary. He pulled latex gloves from the glove box, a staple in his profession. “You should have told me earlier. I could have had this scanned and analyzed by now.”

The note was simple. You will feel my pain.

It was impossible to tell whether the writer was male or female, black or white, young or old. The one thing he could say was that they were smart. No unnecessary words. No clues, no hints at their next method of attack. Only the promise. These were the worst. Zach hated these perpetrators. Catching this one would take skill rather than strength. “On the gate of your house?” he asked.

“Yes. They couldn’t get in,” she assured him.

He nodded. They weren’t professional. Not yet. “Don’t keep anything else from me. We’ll catch him that much sooner if I know everything. I hate surprises. They put us at a disadvantage.”

She’d already pulled off her glasses.

Her gaze cut across the traffic, then back at him. “Get used to them. That’s what law is all about. Managing the bad and evil surprises.”

“I don’t get used to anything. That’s why I always get my man,” he assured her. “Or woman.” She crossed her left leg, then folded her arms. He knew what that meant. Off-limits. Women only clouded men’s judgment, and he was there to work, only.

The judge had nothing to worry about. If her work ethic was as strong as she’d stated, his was made of carbonized steel.

Chapter 3

When was the last time a man had made Kim feel incompetent and unable to take care of a situation?

Zach pushed on the first-floor window in the sunroom, finding it unlocked. He frowned as he’d done a thousand times since they’d arrived at the house. He didn’t like anything. Not her house, or the fact that it was a two-story and not a three-story. He made it clear that he thought her security system was inadequate and that she needed upgrades, including a dog, and he’d asked her more than once why was she single. As if she hadn’t asked herself that a thousand times over the years until finally accepting the answer. She was meant to be alone.

Zachary Hood couldn’t be made happy about anything. Kim had stopped trying. His expectations were too high. They’d slid into hour three of his interrogation fifty-nine minutes ago, and as hour four ticked away, she took a mental moment to figure out why her frustration level matched his. She had been happy with her life… Until she’d met him.

Kim wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t a judgmental man. She’d expected him to be more conciliatory. Someone who…well, acquiesced to her position as a judge. Someone who was at least nice.

Releasing the biggest sigh of the day, her tension eased a bit. It was the truth. It had been so long since anyone besides Clark told her she was wrong about something, and he was so gentle about it. Zach was trampling all over her tender feelings.

Kim slid her hand through her hair as they entered the keeping room, her mother’s favorite room in the house she and Kim’s father had owned before their deaths. This was the only room Kim had not changed when she’d had the house renovated a year ago. The curtains were still thick velvet brocade, and hung from heavy fourteen-foot rods, protecting stained-glass windows that dated back to the early nineteen hundreds, when the house had first been built.

The windows had been treated and re-stained, but that was all she’d had updated in the room.

“Wow, this is a throwback to the past,” Zach murmured, more to himself than to her. His words weren’t a criticism or snide, just a statement about the overall state of the room. It was mausoleum-like with the heavy dark furniture and the real Persian rugs. Kim knew that at some point she’d have to deal with the room and renovate. She’d have to deal with her feelings for her mother, too. Perhaps that was why the room was still in its untouched state, even after eight years.

Zach was ten feet into the room before he spoke. “Turn on the lights, please.”

The lights were on a dimmer switch, and Kim tried to see the room as he did. The portrait that hung over the fireplace of her and her mother came into view as the lights grew brighter. Zach drew closer and studied her mom. “She was beautiful. You look just like her.”

When more words didn’t come, Kim became embarrassed.

“Thank you.” The unexpected compliment had caught her off guard. Her heart hammered. She’d been called beautiful before, but she wanted to be respected by Zach.

She looked at her mother and her heart ached for the closeness they had lacked. For all that they hadn’t been.

The sadness in the room overwhelmed her. “Are you almost finished? I can meet you in the library.”

Zach had moved on, even as she walked toward the door, her heart beginning to race again. Anxiety from being in her mother’s space was beginning to get to her. So many unshed tears. So many words unspoken.

“Come here,” he said.

From above the fireplace, beautiful brown eyes gazed down at her and she looked away from Kay Thurman. Kim crossed the room to Zach, her jaw clenched. “Yes, Mr. Hood?”

“Were these windows ever fitted with security sensors?”

“No. The prickly bushes outside are so close to the house, I didn’t think a criminal would ever wade into them to get inside. They’d get sliced up.”

Zach held back the thick curtain, and Kim waved dust out of her face. Then she saw what Zach was referring to. The beautiful stained-glass panes had been removed, leaving the window wedged open by six-inch blocks, waiting for whomever to return and finish the job of breaking into her house. They’d obviously wanted the expensive glass, because it was gone, but they wanted access, too. This was no smash and grab crime. This was methodical and thought out. There was no mistaking it. She was being targeted.

Her heart raced out of fear and stupidity. “Oh, my God. I didn’t know.” She reached out to snatch the blocks, and Zach caught her hand. Roughness met pampered softness.

“Get them out,” she ordered. Panic hit her in the chest. “There was always a moment when I thought I was overreacting. I thought, they’re not following me, are they? The attack on me was random. But this…this was meant for me. To get me.”

“Kim, it’s not the time to lose your head. If you needed confirmation, well, here’s more proof. We’re leaving the blocks in. We want him to think he’s getting away with something. The truth is that the two incidents aren’t related. There are two groups or people targeting you.”

“What? How do you know?” As badly as she wanted to leave the room, Zach knew more than the chief of police or his deputies had told her in all her conversations with them.

“Anyone who leaves something on your gate can’t get in. The note was intended to intimidate you. They want to show you their power, but they’re showing their limitations. The person who got into this window could have gotten into the house, but something stopped them.”

Fearful but curious, Kim had to ask all the questions racing through her mind. “Fear or something else?” She voiced her hope rather than her fear.

“Time and greed. He wants the glass, too,” he said, feeding a fear so deep inside her she wanted to run. But nothing, not death or threats, had made her run in the past. She wouldn’t run now.

“So they’re still after me?”

“I believe whoever did this will try again. No one leaves a window open and doesn’t return. They probably realized this glass is worth a lot of money, and they got sidetracked. They want it all. This is personal and potentially the most dangerous. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“What are they doing with the glass? Keeping it as a trophy?”

Zach pursed his lips and shook his head confidently. He worked a piece free and slipped it into a plastic evidence bag. “No. The value is too high and too many are gone. They’re selling it. It’s heavy, so he could only carry a few at a time without being noticed. He’s playing the law of averages. He’ll be back, but he didn’t count on you having better security. We will get this bastard. This one may have a smudge of blood on it.”

“How soon will we know?” she asked, excited for the first time that day.

“A day or two.” Zach remained hopeful. “How much was this glass?”

“They were ordered in bulk, but six hundred a piece. There about.”

Zach grunted. “Stealing one is a felony. And he got six.”

“Maybe he won’t be back.”

“Baby, you’re a judge. He’s gone undetected and he got away. This is an easy score for him. There are bragging rights for him right about now. He’ll be back. There are two groups. I’m convinced of that.”

Kim didn’t know whether to believe Zach anymore. He’d been in her life for a few hours and she was so full of anxiety, she wasn’t sure she trusted even her own judgment anymore. “I went from nobody believing me to having not one but two groups targeting me.”

“Life’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Zach said, not looking at her, studying her alarm control panel. “You’re just too close to it and you’re the victim. I don’t expect you to see things the way I do. No, wait.” He smiled at her. “Yes, I do.”

He disarmed her with that quick smile in the face of all this serious talk about her life. The thing was, she did believe him. And now, she was more afraid than ever.

“Why didn’t the chief of police believe me?”

“Because he sent his best people to protect you, and if they investigated and said you were out of danger, then he would take their word over yours.”

“What about Clark’s arm and that attempted kidnapping? Surely that can’t be swept under the rug?”

“No, it can’t. I’ll have my people follow up on that. I’ll have answers for you, Kim. You never told me who has keys to your house.”

His quick shift in conversation was a tactic used in trials to redirect witnesses, but Kim wasn’t that easily distracted. She couldn’t look away from the blocks wedging the window open. Who would do this?

It was well past nine, and the sun was finally fading for the evening, but a few rays still managed to reflect off the beautiful stained glass. Kim’s heart ached for the mother who had neglected to love her. Zach was still waiting and Kim turned away from the glass to find his questioning gaze on her. “Lieutenant Jerome from the marshals has a key to the house. Clark, of course, and Flora, my housekeeper. Giuseppe, the grocery delivery man, and Paul, my next-door neighbor.” She reached out again and Zach guided her away from the window. She finally met his gaze, unable to look away. “People are really trying to hurt me.”

She was stuck, like a truck in the red Georgia clay after a hard rain. She wanted to ask Zach who would do this, but she couldn’t. He didn’t know any more than she.

“Five keys, huh? Why not leave a key in the mailbox with a note?” He tromped all over her already bruised feelings.

“I have no appreciation for sarcasm.”

“I was kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“You’re right. You’re a judge, and you should have used better judgment. You’ve practically waved a flag at the satellites in space and said, ‘notify all attackers, I’m waiting to be a victim.’ How many doors open with that key that everyone has?”

Kim didn’t really want to answer because he was right, of course. And since they had the key, they had the alarm code, too. It crossed her mind that she’d doled out her house key like French fries, and lots of keys could have been made. But why would those people betray her?

She braced for the onslaught of words her reply would bring. “All of the doors open with the same key.” She knew he heard her barely audible words. She’d conceivably invited the perpetrator into her home.

“This house is how old?” he asked, saying nothing further, scrutinizing the glass on the window leading to the second floor.

“Ninety years old. It’s been renovated twice. In the forties, and then a year ago. I have a bit of a defense for myself, Zach. When I’m home, I try to live a normal life. I didn’t know I’d made myself so vulnerable.”

“I don’t really blame you, Kim. Your security team should be fired for not knowing about this. Then again, who knows when this happened? But this is how innocent people die.”

“I’ve never had any trouble, and I’ve lived here for quite some time.”

“You grew up in this house,” he stated. How did he know? He’d only been in her house a few hours.

She thought about lying, but it would be useless. “How did you know?”

“The picture over the fireplace. I recognize the window behind the chair your mother is sitting in.”

His astute observation was correct. The artist had captured only the side portion of the window, but Zach’s attention to detail was uncanny. Men didn’t usually notice much past her breast size and the fact that she was in a position of power.

“All my life, I went to boarding schools, and I visited here. After my parents died, I came back for good.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Zach sounded so sincere, Kim wished she hadn’t brought it up. She never talked about her family or their less-than-close home life. She didn’t need sympathy. She offered empathy only to those who genuinely needed it.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. This neighborhood was all but ignored by the young urban professionals who were buying up the land in the late nineties. Most of us second generation owners renovated and refurbished our family homes. We got lucky to have such nice property in the right zip code.”

Zach gave her a wise, knowing look. “These houses are worth millions because of that zip code.”

“The status associated with these is almost ridiculous.” She waved nonchalantly.

“Why not leave if it makes you feel that way?”

“What way?” Kim crossed her arms and leaned away from him.

“Cold and detached.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve touched a nerve. We don’t have to talk about it. Let’s move on.”

He had more than touched a nerve. He’d run his six-foot-four self all over her central nervous system. Accepting the house had been a final thank-you for all of the years of boarding school, holidays alone and lonely nights. She’d taken it with bitter acceptance from their attorney at their graveside funeral. She, the child of spies, had hardly seen them.

Now she was living in their home, her home now, and being stalked as they used to stalk others for information. Kim shook off the ghosts of her parents, and needed coffee. Instead, she bit her nails; her one vice. At the door of the keeping room, Kim went ahead and walked out, hoping Zach would get the hint, but he ignored her.

“Why didn’t you just sell?”

“I couldn’t. As much as I disagreed with my folks, in their own way they loved me. I never told them how much they hurt me by not being home to care for me, but that hardly seemed the point when you’re summoned to a hospital in the middle of the night to hear your mother’s final words.”

Zach didn’t look at her. He simply stared at the floor and nodded. “I—understand. You’re very lucky.”

Kim hardly expected this. For Zach to become all maudlin and shake her unwavering opinion of her parents was unnerving. “I hardly feel that way.”

“Sure, she was able to tell you how she really feels. It’s so much better than getting that phone call and finding out she died alone.”

You’ve been a wonderful daughter. Well done. Then she’d slipped away.

“What do I do now?” Kim rubbed her neck, ready to shut the door for another two years.

“We change everything. Locks, doors, bushes and windows. Why don’t you have a dog?”

Kim felt herself frowning. “I’m never home, and a dog needs love.”

An impertinent smirk crossed Zach’s face, and Kim wanted to retract her answer. “No, they don’t,” he said. “They need food and commands on who and what to bite.”

His phone buzzed and he walked out of the keeping room, into the library, ordering items for the house as if he were at a fast-food restaurant. Apparently, she needed a lot of number fours. Kim closed the door, hoping he’d shut the window. She had no plans to go in there again.

“Kim!”

Halfway to the kitchen, her chin hit her chest and she rolled her eyes. “I need coffee,” she complained.

“Be strong,” Zach told her from behind. “Set the alarm and come outside,” he commanded, and waited for her on the outside steps.

Heading outside, Kim hurried up the cobbled walkway leading to the driveway.

“How many windows on the ground level?” Zach asked.

“Ten.”

He relayed the information, then hung up. “This is going to be expensive to put bars up to the windows, but they are tasteful and will blend into the decor of the windows already on your home.”

Shaking her head, Kim stopped walking. “No, I refuse to be imprisoned in my own home.”

They walked the entire property, from the electric gate to the garage. Zach set and reset her sprinkler system. “Why are you doing that?” She was exhausted and hot. Knowing she’d contributed to people trying to hurt her made her sick. She just wanted to be left alone. “Zach?”

“The sprinkler is set to go on at four in the morning, but it’s better to go on at nine in the evening.”

“Why’s that?”

He winked at her. “Easier to collect evidence at nine.”

She shook her head. “You’re lying to me.”

He nodded, pointing to her bushes. “Yes, ma’am, I am. These flowers bloom between 4:00 and 5:00 a.m. If someone comes into the house and have stepped on these flowers, they leave quite a nice evidence trail. Though it’s better when it’s a dry trail. If it’s wet, we can work with it, but it’s harder to get out of the carpet.”

Kim’s eyebrow arched. “Oh.”

Zach was proving to be far more than she’d expected. She shook her shoulders to lose her attitude. But bars up to the windows? The last thing she needed was to lower the property value of the neighborhood.

“Zach, I just can’t have bars on my windows. It would make the wrong statement to the neighbors.”

He nodded and guided her around by her elbow. “I understand. It’s hot. Let’s go inside.”

The sprinkler system went off and Zach tried to dart out of the way, but still got soaked. Kim hurried to the front door and pushed it open to be greeted by a stranger with a gun in his hand.

She screamed and Zach shoved her into the house.

“Welcome home,” the man said.

Shocked, Kim’s mouth hung open. He was a Hood, she could tell, but he’d still scared the mess out of her. She was holding her heart, but Zach had his hand on the small of her back.

“My alarm should be going off.” The words seemed inept, especially since everything was completely silent. Then the long beep sound started and Kim quickly disarmed it.

“Ben Hood,” the stranger said. “Don’t be afraid of me.” He took her hand and rubbed it. Kim was actually embarrassed.

“Did you have to do a show and tell? I’m not a difficult learner,” she said angrily. “I follow directions very well. You didn’t need the visual effects. Are we finished? I’ve had a long day and I would like to relax.”

“Not by a long shot,” Ben continued. “Your alarm was active, but your motion detectors only work in certain rooms and only within a certain range. Did you know there’s an anomaly with this particular system?”

Kim played with the gold cross around her neck. Could the day get any worse? she wondered. “What is it?”

“There can be movement in your home for up to five seconds and the alarm not activate.”

“What?” she said in disbelief.

“This company is based out of California. They factored this feature in because of earthquakes. The average is just a few seconds long, so…”

Kim understood the logic, but didn’t agree with it. “They didn’t want the police to respond to false alarms, so they built in this five second rule.” She shrugged as she stood there talking to who could have been her burglar. “If criminals only knew.”

Ben gave her a knowing look. “Some do. But they’re not fast, so they pick another house.”

“I feel lucky,” she said sarcastically. “How much are these updates and changes?”

Zach opened the front door again. “I will ignore your sarcasm. Look across the street.” A man was waving from inside the neighbor’s house. No one should have been there. The Sugarbakers had been on vacation in Spain for a month. “The height of your bushes allows a limited view of their home and them yours. If you need help, no one can come to your aid.”

Even with his brother there, Zach was still by her side. “You’ve made your point. They’re selfish neighbors for not inviting me to Spain while we get robbed, and my alarm company sucks, therefore they’re fired.”

Zach laughed and winked at her. “Smart lady.” He dialed his phone and walked off, while the man who’d been in the Sugarbakers’ house crossed the street and entered her house.

Kim extended her hand. “You’re a Hood, too.”

“Hugh Hood. Nice to meet you. It’ll be expensive. About ten thousand dollars. You can do them for less, but you get less. The bars will blend with your current windows. The doors are pricier, but you want them to match your current motif. You don’t have a homeowners’ association, per se, but you don’t want to stick out like Fort Knox and upset your neighbors by making upgrades they don’t agree with. I’d say do the windows, doors and alarm first. Then do the bushes. The neighbors will think you got new windows. The doors will surprise them, but you need them.”

“Can I keep my bushes, but trim them back?”

“Let’s see,” Hugh said.

Hugh and Kim walked outside, with Zach trailing. Hugh nodded. “You can. But we need to get that done today.”

“What’s the rush?”

“We’ve discovered a couple people we want you to take a look at.”

“That’s good.” Kim turned to look at Zach, whose attention was on the sky.

“Come inside,” he said. “That helicopter has flown by three times. I don’t like it.”

Kim did as she was told, flustered and unnerved by the seriousness of the Hood team.

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