by Lisa Childs
She wanted to reach up and run her fingers over that stubble, up his chin to his lips. All these years later she still remembered how they felt—silky but firm. But she didn’t want to just touch his lips; she wanted to kiss them. The urge was so great that she rose on tiptoe.
But before she could close the slight distance between their mouths, she jerked out of his arms. She couldn’t be having these thoughts—these desires for Cooper. She needed air to clear her head, so she moved toward the big arched window that looked out onto the street below. But before she could lift the bottom pane, the glass shattered.
Gunshots echoed.
And she was falling to the ground, pushed down as more gunshots rang out. Pain radiated throughout her body and she wondered if it was already too late.
Would she live to see her wedding day?
Chapter Five
Glass showered down over them, nicking Cooper’s face and the back of his neck. Too bad he still had his military brush cut. Blood trickled from his nape over his throat.
He needed to jump up and return gunfire. But that would mean leaving Tanya unprotected. And he couldn’t do that. Again. He covered her body with his, pressing her into the hardwood floor.
Since the shooter on the street wouldn’t be able to hear them, he leaned his face close to her ear and whispered, “Are you okay?”
She shivered, trembling beneath him. But she didn’t speak. Maybe she was worried that the shooter could hear them.
But the gunfire had stopped. Maybe the assailant was just reloading. Or maybe he had gone.
“Tanya, are you okay?” he asked again.
Her breath shuddered out in a ragged sigh. She must have been holding it, and she murmured, “I think so…”
But he heard the doubt in her voice and eased up so she could roll over and face him. “Were you hit?” he asked. He ran his hands down her sides, checking for wounds. Just for wounds…
But he found soft curves and lean muscles instead. Heat tingled in his hands and in other parts of his body. A few minutes ago, he’d thought she was going to kiss him. Their mouths had been only a breath apart, but maybe that was because he’d leaned down—because he’d wanted to kiss her so badly his gut had clenched.
The woman got to him as no one else ever had. And that made her dangerous—almost as dangerous as the shooter.
She squirmed beneath him. Apparently she was still as ticklish as when they’d been kids. He used to tickle her then—just as an excuse to touch her.
But he’d had a reason to touch her this time. “Are you hurt?” he asked again.
When his hand skimmed over her rib cage, she sucked in a breath. “Just sore,” she murmured, “from my fall.”
She’d fallen twice. Once in the church when her sister had attacked her and again when the car had nearly run her down. Actually, three times since he’d shoved her to the floor—which was unyielding hardwood.
He wasn’t doing the greatest job protecting her. Maybe Logan had been right and he wasn’t ready yet for a field job. But he couldn’t imagine anyone else protecting her. Or marrying her.
She lifted her hand and skimmed her fingers over his throat, making his pulse leap even more wildly. And her eyes widened with shock and horror. “You’re bleeding! You’ve been hit! We need to call an ambulance!”
He brushed away the trickle of blood. “It’s just a scratch from the flying glass.”
He brushed some of those glass fragments from her silky blond hair and his fingertips tingled. He didn’t even notice the bite of the glass. All he noticed was the fresh flowery scent of her and the soft feel of her. She was so close. He only needed to lean down a few inches to close the distance between them and press his lips to hers.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. But he wasn’t. He was tempted to kiss his best friend’s bride while the man was missing. But hell, Cooper was the one who was going to marry her. Tomorrow. He drew in a deep breath to steady his racing pulse. “We should call the police.”
“He’s gone?” she asked hopefully.
He wasn’t certain about that…even though he had heard the squeal of tires as a car sped away.
“We still need to call to report the shooting.” There could be shell casings recovered. Witnesses questioned that might be able to identify the shooter. He reached for his cell phone.
And then he heard the footsteps, the stairs creaking beneath the weight of the person stealthily climbing up to Tanya’s apartment. Maybe the shooter hadn’t sped off in the car with the squealing tires. Maybe he had come upstairs to make sure he’d killed his intended victim.
Cooper drew his weapon from the holster on his belt. He pointed the barrel at the door as he scrambled to his feet and helped up Tanya. He shoved her toward the only other room in the studio apartment. The bathroom.
“Get in the tub,” he ordered her in an urgent whisper. Where he’d been, grenades were routinely tossed in houses. Or machine-gun fire that cut through walls like scissors through paper. “And stay down.”
He didn’t know if she did as he told her because she closed that door. And another opened, slowly, the old hinges creaking in protest. His finger twitched on the trigger as he prepared to pull it, especially as the first thing that entered the apartment was the barrel of a gun.
He waited to get a target before he took his shot. But just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, the intruder stepped from the shadows and revealed himself.
“Damn it, Logan!” he cursed his brother. “I almost shot you!”
Logan holstered his gun and gestured toward the broken window. “Looks like you got a little trigger-happy already.”
Cooper begrudgingly admitted, “I didn’t fire my weapon.” Then he pointed toward the holes in the drywall ceiling. “The shooter was down on the street.”
Which had probably saved Tanya’s life and his, because the trajectory of the bullets had sent them tunneling into the ceiling instead of into their bodies.
Sirens blared and blue and red lights flashed, refracting off all the broken glass. “And now the police are down there,” Logan pointed out with a slight sigh of relief.
Either the landlord or a neighbor must have called them. Cooper hadn’t had the chance to dial yet. He’d been too distracted. Tanya had distracted him.
“Why are you here?” he asked his older brother, who was also now his boss. “You checking up on me?” He couldn’t blame him if he was. His first assignment with Payne Protection and he was already blowing it. First, he’d lost Stephen, and he’d nearly lost Tanya more than once.
“You said you were going to get some information for me,” Logan reminded him. “Tanya’s list of difficult cases and exes.”
“What? Were you waiting in the car for it?” Cooper asked—almost hopefully. Because if his brother had been just outside, he would have seen something.
Logan shook his head. “No. I went back to the church to check on Mom and she ordered me back here.”
“She ordered you?” Cooper teased. “I thought you were the boss.”
Logan chuckled. “Doesn’t matter who’s listed as CEO, Mom will always be the boss.”
“She sent you back for the list?” Maybe their mother was running Payne Protection, too.
“She sent me back for Tanya.”
More footsteps sounded on the staircase. “That’s probably the police.”
“Once you two give your report, I need to take Tanya with me,” Logan said.
“So Mom doesn’t trust me to protect her?” He flinched at the pang of regret. She had always had more faith in her oldest son than her youngest.
Logan chuckled again. “No. It’s all about tradition or superstition…”
“What is?” Cooper asked as his head began to pound with confusion and exhaustion. He’d endured tours of duty that had been less dangerous and stressful than this night. “What are you talking about?”
“Mom doesn’t want you to spend the night before your wedding with your bride.”
<
br /> *
USUALLY TANYA SANK into her claw-foot tub with a sigh of relief as the hot water eased the tension from her body. Her tub would never again relieve her stress because she had never been as scared as she was crouched down beneath the rim.
Someone was obviously determined that Tanya wouldn’t live to see her wedding day. With Cooper agreeing to take Stephen’s place as her groom, the wedding could take place as scheduled—the next day. So Tanya would have to die tonight.
Would Cooper die with her? Had he already? She’d heard no shots.
But then the bathroom door opened to men with guns. But they were uniformed police officers. Cooper hadn’t come for her. She had heard no shots—only the rumble of male voices. Had he been hurt worse than he’d claimed? Had he really been bleeding from just a scratch?
The heat flushed her face; she was embarrassed that strangers had found her hiding in her bathtub. At least she was fully clothed, though.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” a young officer asked as he helped her step over the porcelain rim.
Her legs trembled slightly, in reaction from all she’d endured that day and in exhaustion. “I’m fine,” she said. “Is Mr. Payne all right?”
“Which Mr. Payne?” he asked.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she found the brothers talking to another officer.
“This is the third report we’ve had to file for you guys tonight,” the older policeman said with a grunt of disgust. “What on earth is going on?”
“We wish we knew,” Logan replied.
“You’ve got a missing groom and someone trying to kill the bride,” the police officer replied as if the head of Payne Protection had asked him the question. “And my wife thinks my daughter’s wedding was a disaster…”
Tanya wasn’t going to have a wedding. She opened her mouth to call it off, but then she remembered Stephen and that blood in the groom’s quarters. His blood…
What if he was being held for ransom? And she couldn’t meet that ransom?
Those thoughts kept running through her head—even as she answered that officer’s questions:
No, she hadn’t seen anything. She hadn’t gotten close enough to the window to look out before the glass shattered. No, she had no idea who might have been behind this attempt or the other one on her life.
She lifted her gaze and caught Cooper staring at her, as if he doubted her. His eyes were narrowed, speculative. Did he have some idea who’d taken Stephen? Who had just tried to kill her?
She waited for him to share his suspicions with the police. But he said nothing to add to the report before they left. He didn’t even say anything when his brother told her to pack a bag because he was taking her someplace safe.
“But what if someone tries to contact me about Stephen?” she asked.
“Then you’d better be alive to take the call,” Logan said. “The purse you left at the church is in my car. Is your cell in there?”
Her face flushed with embarrassment again. “Yes, and the cell is the only phone I have.” So she didn’t have to worry about a call coming into a landline. She had no reason to stay in her apartment, especially as damaged as it was from the gunfire—the window shattered and drywall dust sprinkling down from the holes in the ceiling, covering the furniture and the hardwood floor.
“Then grab your charger,” Logan advised, “and whatever else you need.”
“I already have a bag packed.” She grabbed a suitcase out of her closet. She’d already had it packed for her honeymoon, which was nothing more exotic than a hotel suite—with separate bedrooms—at an inn on the Lake Michigan shore just outside the city. She had left more lingerie in her drawers than she’d packed, and she was the only one she’d figured would see it. That wasn’t going to change just because her groom had.
“I’ll take that,” Logan offered, reaching for her suitcase.
Cooper finally spoke, asking, “Where are you taking her?”
“Safe house,” his brother replied.
He arched a dark brow. “Are you going to tell me where?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Logan said. “You’re not staying there. Parker’s taking you to another safe house.”
He groaned in protest. “Why can’t I just go home?”
“Because Mom gave me orders to make sure both the bride and the groom stay alive to make it to the church tomorrow.”
“I don’t need Parker to keep me alive,” Cooper said, his male pride obviously wounded.
Tanya remembered how hard he had struggled to be his own man growing up—instead of the shadow of his older brothers. She suspected it was why he’d joined the Marines instead of going into the police academy.
Logan snorted. “I know that. I need Parker to keep you away from Tanya.”
Her pulse quickened with excitement. Did his brother think that Cooper was attracted to her? Maybe she hadn’t been the only one who’d wanted that kiss—that kiss that never happened…
“Mom gave me all kinds of orders based on wedding superstitions,” Logan said, “that the bride and groom need to spend the night before the wedding apart or they’ll have bad luck.”
Tanya laughed now and then flinched at the brittle sound of her own laughter. She probably was on the verge of hysteria brought on by the events of this horrible, horrible day, and by exhaustion. “Bad luck? Mrs. Payne is worried we’ll have bad luck?” Another hysterical laugh slipped out. “Like we haven’t already? My groom has been…abducted! I’ve nearly been run down and I’ve been shot at,” she reminded them as if the shattered glass and the holes in her ceiling weren’t reminder enough. “What else could go wrong?”
Logan pointed out the obvious. “You or Cooper could get killed.”
Her stalker obviously wanted to stop her wedding. So Tanya had no doubt that there would be more attempts on her life and—if the stalker had figured out that Cooper was her new groom—on his, too, before the night was over.
She suspected the night would seem endless, unless it ended—forever.
*
“YOU WERE NOT supposed to come here,” Parker protested as Cooper unlocked the door and stepped inside the condo unit. “This is not the safe house.”
Cooper flipped on a switch before stepping inside. “I don’t need a safe house.”
“Those shots could have been meant for you,” Parker pointed out.
He shook his head. “After the car tried running over Tanya? No, the shots were meant for her.” Had they been fired high just to scare her? Or had they actually been meant to kill her? His guts clenched with dread and fear. “Are you sure she’s safe with Logan?”
Parker laughed. “Have you been gone so long that you’ve forgotten who Logan is? Logan Payne always keeps his word. If he promised he would keep her safe, he will keep her safe. It’s you I’m worried about…”
“Me?” Cooper asked, confused by his brother’s concern. “I told you the shots weren’t meant for me.”
“If someone’s figured out you’re standing in for the groom, they could have been. Look what happened to Stephen.”
“We don’t know what happened to Stephen,” Cooper reminded him. “That’s why we’re here.” At Stephen’s condo.
“I’ve already been here,” Parker said.
The unit was in a high-security high-rise complex. The condo’s living room was enormous and its kitchen gourmet with dark cabinets, granite countertops and industrial appliances. Even if she didn’t inherit her grandfather’s money, Stephen could offer Tanya a much better life than Cooper could. If he could be found…
“But when you were here, you were looking for Stephen.”
“And anything that might lead us to him,” Parker added. “We didn’t find anything.”
Cooper picked up a laptop from the coffee table. “Did you look at this?”
Parker shook his head. “It’s password protected.” He took the computer. “Nikki might be able to crack it, though. But what’s she going to find? His kidnapper wouldn
’t send an email to Stephen. He’d send it to Tanya.”
“We don’t know that this is a kidnapping.” He was beginning to think it less likely with every minute that passed without a ransom call being made.
“We don’t know what the hell this is…”
And looking around Stephen’s place didn’t reveal any more clues. There was no blood here. No signs of a scuffle at all.
There was a suitcase open on Stephen’s bed. But he hadn’t packed it as Tanya had hers—for their honeymoon. Had he changed his mind? Had he gotten cold feet?
There were no pictures of his fiancée in Stephen’s bedroom. The only photo of her anywhere was in the second bedroom that he must have used as an office. It wasn’t even the engagement photo of the two of them. It was a photo of the three of them—Stephen, Tanya and him—at their high school graduation, clad in their caps and gowns. He and Stephen had worn maroon and Tanya was in white, standing in the middle of the men, like a candle in the dark.
Had she come between them literally? Maybe it was simple jealousy that had brought on Cooper’s doubts…
“Nice picture,” Parker said. “I noticed it earlier.”
“It’s old.” And staring at it made Cooper feel old. “Where are the recent photos of them? Of Tanya?”
“Maybe on his phone?” Parker mused. “I take them with mine and never bother printing them off.”
Cooper nodded. He did the same when he cared enough about something to take photos, like of his squad. Or some of the Afghani children. Or the countryside that had actually been quite beautiful…
“Nobody found his phone,” Cooper recalled.
“It must be with him.”
Or with his body.
“Nikki’s been trying to track the GPS on it. But she hasn’t been able to pick up anything. Maybe the battery’s been removed.”
“Or the phone destroyed…”
“You don’t think he’s been kidnapped,” Parker said.