Not Without Risk by Sarah Grimm Read Free Book Online

ruthless good looks. Young and foolish when she’d met him, he was the
     first man to ever cause her stomach to drop to her toes and her system to go jittery.
     Cocky, arrogant and quick to charm, he’d walked into her life and swept her off her
     feet. She’d allowed herself to be carried away by attraction and she’d fallen hard
     and fast.
    It had nearly been her undoing.
    By the time she realized she would never be able to compete with his job, she’d loved
     him completely. She withstood his sudden changes in mood and convinced herself that
     when he shut himself off to her, retreating behind a mask of cool indifference, it
     was nothing personal. She got good at accepting what little he gave her, even as she
     craved more. Good enough that his swift, brutal death nearly destroyed her.
    Even though his life had brought her little more than frustration and pain.
    “Never again,” she whispered. “No more cops.” Her breathing regulated, her stomach
     settled.
    Until dark brown eyes flashed into her mind.
    Stifling a groan, she scrubbed her palms across her face. She closed her eyes and
     waited for Sergeant Harrison’s image to fade. When it remained wedged in place, Paige
     fumbled out from beneath her covers and staggered to her bathroom where she splashed
     cold water onto her face.
    Because she could feel hot tears boiling up, she splashed her face a second time.
     It was nothing more than the need to reach out to someone. To feel the warmth of a
     man’s arms around her, the soothing comfort of his voice in her ear. She was lonely,
     confused, and once again, she had all but witnessed a violent murder. Because she
     was too shaken to maintain tight control of her thoughts, her mind drifted again to
     Sergeant Harrison. He’d been the last person she’d seen before finally catching some
     sleep. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that.
    But she knew it did. For the first time in years, she ached for a man. A man with
     dark hair and eyes so unlike the blue she usually went for. A man with gentle hands,
     an inquisitive mind, and a gold shield upon his belt.
    The realization brought Paige up short. She thought she’d changed, had gone out of
     her way to discard any and all representation of the woman she had been before Rick
     died. She’d grown stronger, more self-reliant. She refused to remain the same pathetic,
     hollow person who would allow others to choose her moods, her very thoughts.
    Suddenly looking for affirmation, her gaze settled upon her reflection. She winced,
     not comforted by what she found.
    Focused on the hollow cheeks and pale hue of the woman reflected back at her, Paige
     wondered just how much she had changed. She knew all too well how it felt to follow her heart and not her head. The
     mind-numbing ache of betrayal, that never completely went away. She had no desire
     to repeat her past, to experience that kind of pain again. So why did she fear she
     was doing just that—falling for a man she knew to be the epitome of everything she’d
     vowed to change about her life?
    Sure, through the brief glimpses caught of the man behind the badge, she thought there
     might be something to Sergeant Harrison that she could care about. But twice now,
     immediately after showing pieces of himself, he’d closed off swiftly and completely.
     She’d been down that road before, knew the heartache of it. She wouldn’t go down there
     again. For that reason, there was no room in her life for Sergeant Harrison. No room
     for him in her thoughts.
    Paige exhaled slowly and reached for her toothbrush, avoiding her reflection. If she
     were to look just then, she just might catch a glimpse of regret in the pale, exhausted
     face that stared back at her, and that just wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.
    * * * * *
    Two hours and a half-pot of coffee later, Paige pulled her favorite black pantsuit
     from her large, walk-in closet. She dropped her bathrobe to the floor, pulled the