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Man Undercover

Page 14

by Alana Matthews


  He was dead before Imogene even realized what she’d done, and Matt knocked the shotgun out of her hands as he lunged for the detonator, fearing it might tumble to the ground and accidentally trigger.

  He caught it with the tips at his outstretched fingers, just in time to see Imogene’s ravaged, grief-stricken eyes and hear her high, shrill wail.

  TARA HAD BEEN TOO BUSY trying to help evacuate the building to pay any attention to the time.

  She had no idea where Susan was, or Kyle and the twins, but when the last man, woman and child were safely outside and racing across the street, she saw the clock on the side of the building.

  Nine-oh-three a.m.

  It was past the deadline, yet the arts center was still in one piece.

  Had Matt succeeded? Had he managed to stop Zane?

  Tara got her answer when she glanced toward the top level of the parking lot and saw him standing at the cement barrier, waving at her, grinning from ear to ear, a small black box in his hand.

  She’d never been so happy to see someone in her entire life. A grateful smile on her face, she returned Matt’s wave, thinking how much she loved him.

  Suddenly unable to control herself, her knees went weak and she stumbled to the sidewalk, an overwhelming feeling of joy rushing through her, tears filling her eyes.

  As she sank to the curb, she buried her head in her hands, letting the tears flow and all the pain and worry of the past few hours drain from her body.

  A small voice said, “Aunt Tara? Are you okay?”

  She looked up to see Kelly and Kimberly standing in front of her now, Susan behind them with her hands on their small shoulders.

  And with one last glance at Matt, Tara opened her arms wide and wrapped them in a loving embrace.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It took several days to round up Zane’s soldiers.

  When the feds raided his compound, they found that it had been completely destroyed by explosives, leaving behind little more than piles of rubble.

  But somewhere in that rubble, a computer hard drive was found that contained a database of the names of every member of The Brotherhood.

  Imogene Zane and Carl Maddox were taken into custody at the crime scene. Rusty Zane and several of his compatriots were found in New Mexico, trying to sneak across the border. And when the arts center building had been swept by the bomb squad, they discovered that over a dozen different stress points had been booby trapped with high explosives, just waiting for detonation.

  Tara and Matt became media darlings, news stations around the world calling them heroes. Movie deals were rumored, a reality show was proposed, and Tara was even offered an on-camera job with one of the major networks.

  But she declined them all. And so did Matt. All they wanted from this was time alone.

  Time together.

  WHEN THEY HAD THAT time, however, when the dust had settled and all the cameras were gone, as much as she tried not to, Tara couldn’t help but wonder if their relationship was a mistake. There was no question in her mind that Matt was her soul mate, but he was still a cop, and she knew what kind of life that would be.

  But then he surprised her.

  Late one night, after they had made love, as they lay in the darkness of her bedroom, Matt absently ran a finger over the spot where her bruise had been.

  And he said, “I’ll give it up, you know.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, and her confusion must have shown on her face.

  “The job,” he said. “If it means losing you, I’ll give it up. I can go back to practicing law.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  Tara could feel her own heart swell. That Matt was willing to give up everything he’d worked for to be with her was more than she could ever ask.

  “I don’t ever want you to feel neglected,” he said. “I don’t ever want you to be alone. Our kids, either.”

  Kids, Tara thought.

  She liked the sound of that.

  Cousins to Kelly and Kimberly.

  She put her arms around him and Matt kissed her. “But there’s something I think you need to see,” he said. “It’ll help you finally put the past to rest.”

  Tara was surprised. And curious. “What?”

  Matt pulled away from her and flicked on a lamp, then rose from the bed and moved across the room to a backpack he’d left in a chair. He dug around inside, then took out a small, battered notebook.

  “Your cop friend gave this to me today. Lila Sinclair. She didn’t think you’d want to talk to her, so she asked me to pass it along. Said she’s been wanting to give it to you ever since the funeral.”

  The mention of Lila brought Tara’s guard up. Some habits were hard to shake. “I don’t understand. What is it?”

  “Your father’s journal.”

  “His…what?”

  “She said you’d be surprised to know that he’d been keeping one for years. She said the entries are sparse, but there’s no mistaking that they came from his heart.”

  Tara didn’t know what to do with this news. Keeping a journal seemed so out of character for her father that she had a hard time believing it was true.

  But when Matt handed the notebook to her, she immediately recognized the handwriting. The neat, no-nonsense lines.

  As she leafed through it, she couldn’t quite believe what she was reading. He’d begun writing it shortly after the divorce. It was both a confession and, in a way, a love song—a love song to her and Susan—words of regret, of missed opportunities, that reached up and wrapped themselves around her.

  Her father had loved them. Had cared about them.

  Had hated himself for his failure to express it.

  Had hoped that she and Susan would one day forgive him and take him back into their lives.

  As Tara closed the notebook and set it aside, she began to cry, her own feelings of regret taking hold.

  “I should have gone to him,” she said softly. “I should have given him a second chance.”

  Matt sat next to her then, pulled her into his arms, and as she cried against his shoulder, she knew with sudden clarity that it didn’t matter what Matt did for a living. It was ridiculous to judge a person based on that.

  She would learn to live with it.

  He was a good man and she could no more expect him to change than she could her father.

  She didn’t want him to.

  She loved him.

  Because he was, and always would be, her Henry.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5548-1

  MAN UNDERCOVER

  Copyright © 2010 by Alana Matthews

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at Customer_eCare@Harlequin.ca.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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