Undercover Avenger

by Rita Herron

  She shrugged and angled her head down to study their hands. The nightmare from the evening before flashed into her mind again. She’d had a seizure, she was certain of it. That accounted for part of her fatigue. She didn’t want to be weak, to appear helpless in front of Eric.

  “You rescued me?”

  He released a self-deprecating laugh. “I had some help.”

  “But you climbed down in that hole to save me.” Her gaze met his again. “Your legs?”

  “They’re fine,” Eric said, denying the mutinous throbbing that had taken root in the wee hours of the morning.

  “You need to stretch, go to the rehab center, have Helen work the muscles—”

  “Shh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “I told you to stop worrying about me.”

  “Promise me you will, Eric. I don’t want you to have a setback.”

  He didn’t want that, either. He’d progressed too far. “All right, I promise.”

  A knock sounded at the door, then Detective Black poked his head in, and glanced from Melissa to Eric. “If it’s all right, I’d like to ask you some questions, Miss Fagan.”

  She nodded, residual fear resurfacing. But she had to talk to the police sometime. She might as well get it over with.

  ERIC FORCED HIMSELF to give Melissa some space while Black questioned her. Or maybe he needed space or he’d cling to her like a lovesick puppy.

  Hearing the details of Melissa’s ordeal only fueled his fury more. He stared out the window, watching each nurse and doctor who entered and exited the building, his distrust growing like a cold virus. Someone had disguised himself as a surgeon, slipped into Melissa’s room and tried to kill her.

  Was it someone who worked at CIRP? Robert Latone or one of his hired guns?

  “Did you see the man’s face?” Black asked.

  “No.” Melissa’s voice was fading by the minute. “He grabbed me from behind. We struggled, I kicked him, but he hit me. I must have blacked out.”

  “And when you woke up?”

  “I was tied, already in that…that hole.”

  “Did he say anything while he was attacking you? Did you recognize his voice?”

  “No.” She paused. “I…I remember the message machine clicking on…it was Eric saying he was coming over.”

  Black sighed. “He probably dragged you to the crawl space so Eric wouldn’t catch him.”

  “Or he would have killed me then,” Melissa said, echoing Eric’s own thoughts.

  Black gave a clipped nod.

  “Eric saved my life.” Melissa’s voice dropped even lower.

  Thank God, Eric thought. He’d catch the man who’d tried to kill her if it was the last thing he ever did.

  MELISSA FINALLY PERSUADED Eric to rest, but he had only agreed after Detective Black had assigned one of his men to guard her door.

  The next morning, when she was released, she felt like a prisoner in her cottage, the guard a visual reminder that someone had actually attempted to kill her.

  After showering and dressing, she poured herself a cup of coffee. Should she forget her search and return to Atlanta? Two people had already died because of her, and she had almost lost her own life. If Eric hadn’t rescued her…

  She did not want him hurt because of her.

  The letters she’d brought with her from Candace’s house mocked her from her bedside table. Although she’d read them already, maybe she’d missed something that might clue her in to her father’s identity.

  Dear Baby,

  I miss you so much. Every time I see a young mother pushing a stroller at the mall or running along the beach collecting seashells with their toddler, my heart squeezes into a gigantic knot. They say pain becomes more bearable as time passes, but each day I only miss you more.

  Today, I painted an ocean scene and added a sand castle, one I wish we could build together. I imagine your face lit up with animation, your eyes bright with laughter. Your skin would be turning pink, so I coat you with sunscreen and tie a bonnet around your head to protect your delicate face.

  I picture what you look like in my mind. You would be two years old today. Do you have my wiry hair and artistic eye? Or did you inherit your father’s straight locks and detail-oriented mind?

  Wherever you are, sweetheart, know that Mommy loves you. Maybe someday I’ll get to hold you in my arms again.

  Love,

  Your mama

  Melissa pressed the letter to her chest. Candace had loved her and wanted her. But she’d given her away and pined for her afterward.

  Melissa could not return to Atlanta without knowing the truth about why she’d given her away or who had killed her.

  Eric’s face flashed into her mind. Tonight she’d tell him they couldn’t see each other again.

  She’d do anything to protect him.

  IN SPITE OF LOSING a night’s sleep, Eric felt surprisingly strong. Adrenaline surged through him as he worked through his therapy. Although he didn’t enjoy the session with Helen near as much as he enjoyed working with Melissa, she seemed kind and allowed him to increase his routine.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to lose the chair?” Helen asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m tired of being confined.” Besides, he’d taken steps with Melissa, then the night she was attacked.

  “Don’t overdo, Mr. Collier.”

  “I won’t. Melissa warned me about a setback.”

  “Dear, I hope that girl’s doing okay.” Helen’s forehead furrowed. “I can’t believe someone assaulted her right on CIRP’s property.”

  He wondered if Melissa had confided her reasons for being in Savannah to Helen. “You’ve worked here a long time, haven’t you?”

  Helen nodded. “When it was just a plain hospital with a few research labs.”

  “You knew Arnold Hughes?”

  “Not personally.” Helen shifted her plump body, looking uncomfortable with Eric’s question. “Why all the interest in the center?”

  “Curiosity. Too much time on my hands, I suppose, so I’ve been reading.”

  She nodded. “There’s Mr. Stinson, let me get him started while you finish those reps.”

  “Sure.” He pumped the weight with his leg, glancing sideways as she hurried to greet the war veteran. His craggy features looked tired and frustrated. Eric had never been a religious person, having lost his faith the day he and Cain had discovered his mother’s suicide, but today he thanked the heavens the doctors had been able to save his legs.

  He finished the weight lifting, then practiced walking with the support of the bars, increasing his speed and control daily. A session in the whirlpool relaxed his muscles later, then he showered and headed over to see Melissa. He allowed himself to use the chair on the way to her place, but he carried his cane.

  Tonight he planned to walk in to see her and surprise her. He couldn’t wait to see her face.

  MELISSA RATIONALIZED her dismal mood as an aftereffect of her seizure, but her quest for her parents and the recent attacks on her life complicated things more. And then there were her feelings for Eric, feelings she’d never had for another man…

  She needed to take a long walk along the beach, to think and put her life in perspective, but she no longer felt free to do so. Danger lurked in every shadow and corner.

  And walking with a guard didn’t seem conducive to soul-searching.

  A knock sounded at the door and she started, stuffing the last of Candace’s letters into her bedside table. Assuming it was the officer stationed outside the cottage, she hurried to answer it, but found Eric on her doorstep.

  “Hi.”

  She drank in his features, reminding herself she had to end this maddening flirtation, or whatever they were doing. “Hi.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Actually, I was going for a walk on the beach.”

  His dark eyebrow raised, and he glanced at the officer. “That sounds good. Let’s go.”

  “But…”

  “You’re n
ot going alone.” Eric gestured toward the cop. “It’s him or me.”

  No choice. “All right.” She slipped on a windbreaker, then stepped outside and began to follow the paved path to the shore. Eric followed, filling the silence with chitchat about his therapy session with Helen.

  “She’s been very nice to me,” Melissa said. Barring the time she’d asked about the labor/delivery unit.

  “It’s easy to be nice to you, Melissa.”

  Her heart lurched. They’d reached the sand and she turned to Eric. It would be difficult to maneuver the chair down the beach. “I won’t go far.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  She started to shake her head, but he pushed himself up, then gripped the cane and took a step toward her.

  “Eric—”

  “I’m improving,” he said. “Not ready to jog yet, but I can manage a short walk.”

  Assuring herself it would be therapeutic for both of them, she allowed him to join her, but mentally gauged the distance. “You’ve made amazing progress, Eric.”

  “I have a great physical therapist.”

  His husky voice massaged her frayed nerve endings, igniting desire and other emotions she didn’t want to deal with. They walked several feet in silence, the salty breeze lifting her hair, the scent of the ocean and sound of the waves crashing on the shore soothing her.

  “It’s really beautiful here,” Melissa said. She sat down on the edge of a huge boulder to give Eric a rest, and stared out at the vast sea.

  Eric leaned against the rock and nodded, but he wasn’t looking at the ocean. His gaze warmed her face. “So are you.”

  Her breath caught when she turned and saw the hunger flaring in his eyes. Then, he raised his hand, slid it behind her neck and lowered his mouth to hers. She hesitated a fraction of a second, but the moment his lips dampened her own, she was lost in the sweet bliss of his caress.

  ERIC COULDN’T HELP himself. Ever since he’d found Melissa unconscious in that damn hole, he’d wanted to hold her and kiss her. He had almost lost her twice, he needed reassurance that she was here, in his arms, alive.

  She tasted like sweet berries and desire, a heady mixture that immediately sent a bolt of longing through him. He threaded his fingers into her silky hair, desperate to obliterate the image of her near death.

  He wanted her. Ached to make her his.

  A low moan escaped her lips, heightening his hunger even more. He teased her lips apart with his tongue and probed the warm recesses of her mouth, seeking, yearning, exploring, telling her silently how he wanted to love her. She clutched his arms, her breathing ragged as he lowered his mouth and kissed her neck, planting teasing tongue brushes all along her neck as his hands stroked her back, then moved to her waist. She groaned again and moved against him. He slid his hands beneath her jacket to cup the plump mounds of her breasts in his hands.

  He wanted more.

  She was fire in his hands, a literal flame that had caught, ready to burn out of control. He wanted to extinguish her desire by tearing off her clothes and thrusting himself inside her, but reined in his animalistic urges and slowed the pace to prolong the pleasure.

  The wind whispered around them, the surf playing a symphonic love song as he lifted his hands to her face. “Melissa, I…I want to make love to you.”

  Her passion-glazed eyes fixed on his face for a fraction of a second before reality intervened. That moment of hesitation cost him, he realized, but he couldn’t regret giving her the choice.

  “I…no, Eric, we can’t do this.”

  “Why? Because I’m your patient.”

  She dropped her head forward. “Partly.”

  “Then Helen can continue my therapy.”

  Her gaze shot up to his. “No…there’s more.”

  “You mean there’s another man?”

  She shook her head, obviously collecting her thoughts. “I…we can’t. I mean, I like you, Eric, and you’ve been kind to me—”

  “Kind?” His voice hardened. “I don’t want your pity, Melissa.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, and bolted to her feet. “I’m sorry, then, because that’s all I have to give.”

  Eric jerked back, her words hitting him with more force than any physical punch could have caused. Then she turned and ran back up the beach, leaving him to hobble after her, with his heart in his throat.

  ROBERT LATONE PEELED the end off the cigar wrapper, raked his hand through his clipped hair and frowned at the headlines as he read silently to himself.

  Local Physical Therapist Attacked on CIRP Premises

  Attacker unknown, but police are investigating the matter and hope to apprehend the assailant. Ian Hall, CEO of CIRP, claims he is cooperating fully with the police and will provide extra security until the matter is solved.

  The maid knocked on his office door. “Mr. Latone, two detectives are here to speak to you.”

  Robert barked a sarcastic laugh. What had taken them so long?

  A broad-shouldered man with dark hair that needed trimming, and another brown-haired detective he recognized from the publicity about the failed memory transplant experiment, appeared.

  The one called Black introduced them both. “Mr. Latone, we need to ask you some questions.”

  “Certainly, gentlemen.” He gestured toward the leather wing chairs opposite his desk. “I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve arrested the person responsible for my daughter’s murder.”

  The detectives exchanged odd looks. “We’re working on it,” Black said.

  “Actually, we need to ask you about Melissa Fagan.”

  Ah, he figured. “Yes, the young woman who found Candace’s body. Does she have more information?”

  “Not exactly. In fact—” Fox nodded toward the paper on Robert’s desk “—you read that she was assaulted.”

  “Yes. Do you think this attack has something to do with Candace’s murder?”

  “It’s possible the killer thinks she knows something and intends to silence her.”

  Robert inhaled a drag from the cigar. “Then shouldn’t you be out looking for him?”

  “We have people investigating it as we speak,” Fox said.

  “Good, the SOB needs to be behind bars.”

  Black cleared his throat. “Melissa Fagan claims she has information indicating she was Candace’s daughter, but it’s our understanding that you disagree.”

  Robert leveled a suspicious look at Black. “I see, and you think that I’d kill this woman because of her misguided ramblings.”

  “She has admitted that she received a threatening phone call warning her to leave town, and that you were not very cordial.”

  He stood. “I believe this conversation is over, gentlemen. The next time you want to ask me questions, contact me first so I can have my lawyer present.”

  Black and Fox both nodded. Robert waited until they had cleared the room and were outside before he called Moor. “Edward, the cops were just here. They think I tried to kill Melissa Fagan to keep her from poking into the past.”

  He snuffed out the cigar. “Now, if they question you next, remember—you’re my alibi.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Melissa stewed all night over the way she’d handled Eric. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, she’d only meant to protect him. Yet the anguish she’d seen in his eyes at her comment haunted her. He hadn’t deserved to be treated so poorly, not when he’d risked his life or more injuries to save her from that awful burial spot where the madman had left her.

  She desperately wanted to talk to him, to apologize and declare her love, and see if he might reciprocate the feeling. Yet to keep him safe, she needed to relinquish her search for her parents.

  Did it really matter who they were? She’d begun to wonder….

  After all, Eric was here now. Eric hadn’t abandoned her. He had pushed his own battered body beyond its limits to save her life.

  Confused and aching from wanting him, she braced herself for their morning
session. But when she arrived, he was already working with Helen. She paused and savored the sight, then walked over to the weight set.

  “Thanks, Helen, I can take it from here.”

  “There’s no need,” Eric said in a flat voice. “Helen and I are working fine together.”

  Helen gave her a perplexed look. “Mr. Stinson wanted to come in early today. He didn’t seem pleased with me yesterday, so maybe it’s best you take him…”

  She let the sentence trail off. Melissa glanced at Eric, but he kept his back to her and continued the weight lifting. Feeling bereft, as if she’d lost something more valuable than she’d first realized, she tackled her patient.

  “Hi, Mr. Stinson, I’m sorry I was out yesterday.”

  He scowled. “Helen said someone assaulted you? Did they find the guy?”

  “No, not yet.” She assisted while he tried to stand, using the prosthetic leg. “But I’m sure they will.”

  “I hope so, Melissa. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.” His gaze seemed to be probing. “I bet your folks are worried sick.”

  “My parents have been gone a long time.” Melissa patted his arm, encouraging him to stand. She glanced back at Eric, aching all over for him, once again considering her options.

  Maybe she should renounce her search. After all, if her father had murdered her mother, and would rather kill her than reveal her existence, did she really want to meet him?

  ERIC POURED ALL his anger and energy into his therapy session, determined to reach his optimum physical level so he could complete this job and get the hell out of Savannah.

  Whether Melissa wanted him or not, he had to protect her and arrest the man who’d tried to kill her.

  But he didn’t want her pity.

  Her reply reverberated in his head, “That’s all I have to give.”

  Sheer pain radiated through him, along with humiliation. Why had he believed she might want a man like him?

  Because for a few minutes, she’d certainly responded as if she had….

  He dismissed the mesmerizing hold she had on his body and mind, showered and returned to his cabin, then phoned Black to see if they had any leads on Hughes or Melissa’s attacker.