And right now, that someone was Max.
“So what do we do? How can we prove Alexon did this?”
Max considered her question for a moment, but didn’t relax his grip. She kind of liked the feel of his big strong hand engulfing hers.
“The agency has numerous pieces of correspondence from Alexon relevant to cases we’ve worked for them in the past. We can have our analysts determine if the paper, print and ink match up. Also, we can compare the handwritten notes in the margins to any signatures we have on file.”
“Does this mean that you believe me now?” She told herself not to hope, but foolishly, she did.
“It means,” he clarified patiently, “that I believe someone is determined to get to you and the child you’re carrying. Whether or not Alexon has your best interests at heart is yet to be seen. We need proof.”
Well, that was a start. “And what do we do in the meanwhile?”
He searched her face, and her pulse reacted to the concern she saw in his eyes.
“We get you someplace safe from danger for a while. You need to rest. I’d also feel better if we had a doctor check you out, to make sure you’re okay. You have been through a lot and—”
“I’m fine.” She couldn’t prevent a tiny smile. “But thanks for caring.”
He frowned. “Scout, how could you—”
She shook her head, cutting off whatever he would have said next. This was becoming too intense. She wasn’t prepared to handle that. “Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
He nodded once, reluctantly. She couldn’t bear to hear him say what she’d feared he might. If he did she would never be able to hold on to what little objectivity she had left. Her baby’s life depended on her ability to think clearly. She couldn’t let anything—not even Max—cloud the issues.
“How do you propose we get out of here without being followed?” she asked, moving on to the next matter at hand.
Max grinned. The unexpectedness, the sheer sexiness and beauty of it took her breath away.
“You’d be surprised what we Colby agents can do,” he teased.
SCOUT FINGERED HER LOCKET as she watched the parking lot from the window in Max’s office. He’d explained to her that it was perfectly safe, since they were on the fourth floor and the windows were protected by a dark tint. The screening allowed those inside to see out, but anyone outside couldn’t see in, nor could harsh UV rays of the sun penetrate the shield.
Simon Ruhl, wearing Max’s clothes and a baseball cap, and another member of the Colby staff, Nicole Reed Michaels, who wore Scout’s clothes and a large floppy hat to conceal her hair, walked across the parking lot and climbed into Max’s SUV. Scout watched, expecting to see an unidentified vehicle fall in behind them as they exited the parking lot. But nothing else moved. Ian Michaels, Nicole’s husband and Victoria Colby’s second in command, and another of Max’s co-workers, Ryan Braxton, were to follow Max’s SUV, but Max had told her she would not see them leave the parking lot. Ian Michaels was too good to get caught.
Max had also warned her not to expect to see the tail. If anyone waited out there, it would likely be someone highly trained in the art of surveillance. They wouldn’t simply drive out after their prey.
“You ready?” he asked from right behind her.
Scout could feel his body heat; he stood so close. She fought the urge to lean into him and allow him to support her with all that strength she could feel emanating from him. But that would be a mistake. She had to stay focused. And so did he. They were both professionals. Each knew the deal and had accepted by unspoken mutual consent to meet those terms.
“Let’s do it.” She turned to face him, and he immediately moved back a step, giving her space.
He hesitated a moment, as if held captive by the pull of attraction—the same attraction playing havoc with her equilibrium—before turning to lead the way to their planned escape route.
Scout followed Max down the long corridor, trying hard not to stare at the breadth of his shoulders or at the way he moved. Her heart fluttered and she couldn’t help but grin at the suave picture he made in Simon Ruhl’s dark suit. Of course, she didn’t look half-bad in Nicole Reed’s navy designer slacks and white silk blouse. Nicole was about an inch taller, but otherwise the size was nearly perfect.
Max greeted members of the staff as he met one after another arriving for work. He didn’t slow to introduce anyone to Scout because they were on a time clock here. They couldn’t risk waiting too long, giving the tail too much opportunity to discover he’d been had.
“Good morning, Max,” an elegant, feminine voice said from somewhere beyond him.
Scout leaned to the left to see who’d spoken. The woman was of medium height and impeccably dressed. Her hair was dark and peppered with gray. Scout decided she was maybe fifty and definitely the boss.
“Good morning, Victoria.”
“And you must be Scout Jackson,” the woman said as Max stepped aside and turned slightly toward her. He started to introduce them, but Victoria didn’t give him the chance. “I’m Victoria Colby.”
Scout nodded and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Victoria closed both hands over Scout’s and shook it firmly, then said, “I’m so sorry about your uncle. And I’m also certain he would want me to do whatever it takes to help you. Let me assure you that we intend to do just that.”
Scout wanted to believe that Victoria Colby’s statement was nothing more than political rhetoric, but that wasn’t the case. Her words were spoken sincerely and the look in her eyes backed them up. Maybe Alexon had hired this firm, but Scout had a feeling the Colby Agency focused on truth and justice more than beefing up its bank account.
“Thank you. I appreciate your support.”
Victoria turned to Max then. “Be careful, Max.”
Scout wondered as she and Max boarded the elevator what gave a woman like Victoria Colby the strength and stamina to oversee this kind of operation. Scout loved her P.I. business down in Houston, but it was nothing compared to this. She couldn’t imagine the depth of devotion it took to reach this level. Victoria Colby had to be one special lady.
Max led Scout to a first-floor exit on the opposite side of the building from the parking lot. Simon Ruhl’s SUV was parked near the curb, waiting for them.
Max quickly ushered Scout into the passenger seat and rounded the hood to climb behind the wheel. The sooner they were out of here the less likely they were to be spotted by anyone hanging around to keep an eye on the agency.
“Do you think we’re clear?” Scout asked, reading his mind far too accurately.
Max started the vehicle and eased out onto the street. “There’s always the chance they’d expect a decoy. That’s why we’re going to take the scenic route to our destination.”
When her safety belt was snapped into place, Scout relaxed in the luxurious leather seat. “Where exactly is our destination?”
Max divided his attention between the street and the rearview mirror, keeping an eye out for a tail. “A guest house owned by the Colby Agency.”
At her questioning look, he added, “It’s for out of town guests. Friends of Victoria’s. You know.” He shrugged. “Security’s top-notch. You’ll like it.”
She seemed satisfied for the time being with that answer. Max had been to the house before and he was certain she would like it. Nestled on a secluded lakefront property, the house looked more like a Malibu beach house than a Chicago getaway. The property was enclosed by a high security wall with a gated entrance. And the house itself—well, it was every bit as sophisticated and elegant as the lady who owned it. Victoria Colby had very discriminating taste.
The reappearance of a white van in the rearview mirror pushed Max to a higher state of alert. The van had pulled in behind him three blocks ago, then turned off. Now it was back. Though there appeared to be no distinctive markings, he was pretty sure it was the same vehicle.
“We may have tro
uble,” he told Scout, keeping most of his attention on the vehicle in his rearview mirror.
She swore and drew her nine-millimeter from the purse Nicole had provided.
“Let’s stay cool for a couple more blocks,” Max suggested. It was 8:50 on a Wednesday morning in downtown Chicago. Any number of companies used these same nondescript vans. The driver had made no moves of aggression just yet.
“How can we protect ourselves with all these people around?” She surveyed the pedestrians on the sidewalks hurrying to their places of employment.
“There you go, reading my mind again,” Max mused aloud as he took a right at the next light. Maybe it was because they were in the same line of work … or maybe it simply was. Whatever the case, she thought entirely too much like he did. That was a little scary.
Several turns and long minutes later, the white van was still behind them. Max swore softly. Time to put some asphalt between them. Nearing the outskirts of downtown, he gunned the engine and headed for an area that was not likely to be crowded this early in the morning, and would prove difficult maneuvering to a driver unfamiliar with the streets.
The first crack of glass had Max pressing more firmly on the accelerator. Simon would not be happy that his driver’s-side mirror was shattered. Max responded with a sudden left turn.
Scout twisted in her seat, simultaneously lowering the window and preparing to take a shot.
“Keep your head down,” Max roared as he took a quick, hard right.
“Can’t return fire with my head down,” Scout argued as she squeezed off a couple of shots. The van swerved, but didn’t slow in its pursuit.
His heart hammering into warp speed, Max tried another evasive maneuver in hopes of putting distance between them. The van never let up, staying right behind them.
Three consecutive shots struck the SUV. Scout cried out in pain after the last one. Blood bloomed on the sleeve of her borrowed white blouse.
“Get down!” Max ordered. A mixture of fear and fury took over and he stomped even harder on the accelerator, propelling the SUV forward. He took the necessary turns and headed back toward the loop, the van right behind him, the driver still pulling off the occasional shot.
Scout hunched low in her seat, struggling to stop the flow of blood spilling down her right arm.
Max clenched his jaw hard and focused on driving. He didn’t have any more time to try and lose this tail. There was only one way to be rid of it: he drove straight down Michigan Avenue at top speed.
The sound of sirens wailing did the trick.
The van made an abrupt turn and sped away. Conversely, Max stopped the SUV in the middle of the street and slammed the gearshift into Park.
“We’ll get you to a hospital,” he said to Scout, his words strained with the tension rocketing through him. “Let me help you with that.”
Before he could attempt to help, the driver’s side door was jerked open and the barrel of a weapon leveled on him. “Get out of the car, sir!” the cop commanded.
Raising his arms above his head, Max did as he was instructed. It would only take a few minutes to straighten out the situation, since Victoria Colby was an honorary member of the Chicago Police Department. Right now all that mattered was that the cop on Scout’s side of the vehicle was already calling for EMT support.
Scout’s gray eyes, fraught with fear and pain, stared directly into his as the officer patted him down. In that split second Max made her a promise with his own eyes: everything was going to be fine. He would see to it.
MAX PACED the corridor outside the examining room where Scout was being treated. Victoria had taken care of the situation with the police, and a detective had driven Max straight to the hospital where Scout had already been taken. The detective had finished taking Max’s statement there, then had left to add one more open investigation to the pile no doubt already cluttering his desk. Ian and Simon had driven over, to make sure that Max and Scout were all right. They’d left Max’s SUV in the emergency area parking lot. Simon didn’t ask what condition his own SUV was in, and Max was too worried about Scout to mention it. Thinking back now, he was pretty sure the vehicle was riddled with at least a dozen bullet holes. He doubted Simon would be so quick to lend his car again.
At the moment the only thing Max could think about was Scout and the baby. He was relatively sure the injury wasn’t life threatening. There had been a lot of blood, but that was to be expected. She’d looked calm enough. She’d walked to the ambulance under her own steam. But she’d also looked extremely pale and vulnerable. His gut tied up in knots at the memory.
He was supposed to protect her. Had sworn he would. And look at the mess he’d made.
Max plunged his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, ordering himself to stay calm. The last thing she needed was to see him in this condition. Some protector he was.
He had to pull himself together.
SCOUT SAT ON THE EDGE of the treatment table and tried not to flinch as the doctor finished suturing her wound. It wasn’t so bad. Just an ugly tear through skin and muscle. After the stitches healed she’d be as good as new. She trembled, and railed at herself for doing so.
She was fine.
The baby was fine.
But that had been too close.
What if she’d been injured badly enough to lose the baby?
What if Max had been killed?
She closed her eyes and ordered herself to suck it up. She was stronger than this. She knew she was. Her life would never be her own—her child would never be safe—if she didn’t see this through.
She should tell Max the truth. What if he’d died today, not knowing that the child she carried was his? She would regret that decision for the rest of her life. She’d been wrong in not telling him.
He had the right to know.
She had to come clean with him. She owed him that. She owed it to the baby growing inside her.
A nurse entered the room with Max right behind her.
“Look who I found pacing outside,” she said cheerily. “Your husband was worried sick about you.” The nurse patted Scout on the leg. “I told him he could just come on in and hold your hand.”
Husband.
The nurse didn’t know, of course, that Max wasn’t her husband. But he was the father of her child.
Scout’s gaze connected with his, and every ounce of courage she had summoned just minutes ago scattered for parts unknown. The worry she saw in those blue eyes, the vulnerable state in which the encounter had left him, evidently rendered him incapable of hiding his emotions. The depth of his feelings for her was right there in his eyes.
And she’d let him believe a lie.
Would he ever forgive her?
Dear God … was she brave enough to risk that he wouldn’t?
Chapter Ten
Small waves lapping against the shoreline made Scout want to sit on the dock and hang her feet in the cool, refreshing water. Trees bursting with autumn color—deep russets and flaming oranges—hugged the property like a protective barrier spawned by nature. A security wall at least twelve feet in height snaked among them, surrounding the lavishly landscaped lawn.
Just when Scout was sure she couldn’t be dazzled any further, they entered the massive, contemporary-style house and she was awestruck all over again.
“Wow,” she said with a sigh. “This is …” she shook her head “… amazing.” Even that didn’t describe it. She felt certain one word would never be sufficient to accurately describe this mansion.
“Spectacular is the word I think you’re looking for,” Max offered, looking every bit as awestruck as she felt. He dropped her duffel onto the floor. “Truly spectacular. No matter how many times I come here, I’m always startled all over again.”
Scout moved deeper into the two-story foyer, her sneakers rasping softly on the marble floor. She heard the telltale beeps of Max entering in the security code. This place was like a fortress. Surely they would be safe here.
&nb
sp; Come to think of it, she mused as she turned around slowly in the center of the room, she could get used to a place like this.
To her surprise, her stomach, still queasy from the discomfort of the stitches and the medicinal smell of the hospital, rumbled hungrily. She’d been sure when she left the emergency room that she might never eat again.
“Is there a restaurant somewhere around here?” she asked hopefully, biting her lip. She was suddenly ravenous.
Max moved toward her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his borrowed suit trousers, his pale blue shirt open at the throat and stained with her blood, his tanned jaw sporting golden stubble. He looked far too dangerously sexy for his own good—or hers.
“I’m afraid going to a restaurant would be too risky,” he said solemnly as he stopped a few feet away. “However, the kitchen here will be well-stocked. Victoria sent someone over to take care of it as soon as the decision was made to come here. Are you hungry?”
She nodded, but the hunger she’d experienced seconds ago had unexpectedly morphed into another kind. Her mind immediately conjured the remembered taste of his lips and the feel of his muscled body beneath her exploring palms. She recalled the way he’d looked at her in that treatment room, and her knees felt weak all over again.
Could she have been so wrong all these months? Had their time together affected him as much as it had her? Why hadn’t he called? Or … or something?
“I’m starved,” she blurted, certain if she didn’t get back on track she would say something she’d regret. Her latest epiphany had nothing to do with the reality of the situation. This was too important to let personal feelings get in the way. Her baby’s life depended on what they did. She immediately suppressed the guilt that rose at how she’d kept the truth from Max. She couldn’t deal with that right now, either.
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