by Неизвестный
information immediately filled her with apprehension and dread, as well as curiosity. When had he left
the Houston Police Department and why?
“I live in Somerset, as well,” she heard herself say. “I moved to town last month to work here at Helping
Hands as a social worker.”
Surprise lit his eyes. “A social worker?”
“Yes.”
She understood his surprise. When he’d last seen her seven years ago, he’d been twenty-four years old
and a detective with the Houston Police Department. And she’d been a nineteen-year-old trying to
escape the clutches of an abusive fiancé by the name of Tyrone Whitman. After she had broken off their
engagement, Tyrone had refused to get out of her life, to leave her alone. He had stalked her for months
before he’d finally caught her alone in her apartment, and for three hours he had held a gun to her head,
threatening to blow her brains out.
While the SWAT team had been trying to talk Tyrone into surrendering, Darius had broken into the
apartment by coming through a bathroom window. He’d apprehended Tyrone and saved her. That night,
Darius Franklin had become her knight in shining armor.
He was the same man who had stopped by her apartment the next day to repair the window, and the
same man who, after learning that a not-too-smart judge had posted bail for Tyrone, made it his business
to become her protector until the trial. After that, he was the same man who she began seeing on a daily
basis, who would drop by when his shift changed to spend time with her, to show her how special he
thought she was.
The same man who during that time, for one night, had been her lover.
“So, you went to college and got your degree?” he asked, and for a split second she could have sworn
she detected a degree of admiration in his voice, but the look in his hard gaze told her she’d been wrong.
“Yes, I got my degree,” she responded, proud of her accomplishment and quickly remembering he was
one of the few people who’d encouraged her to do so, and convinced her that she could. He had made
her believe in herself. And a part of her had believed in them, in a future together. He had proven her
wrong.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she said briskly, putting aside the document she had been reading. “So, why are you here,
Darius? Although we’ve established the fact that we’re both living in Somerset, I’m sure this town is big
enough for the both of us. What brings you to Helping Hands?”
“I’m here to install the security system as well as the billing account for the shelter,” he said, as if that
explained everything.
She nodded. “I was told the Texas Cattleman’s Club would be sending someone over to do those
things,” she said, finding it hard to concentrate.
She had heard a lot about the Texas Cattleman’s Club, a group of men who considered themselves the
protectors of Texas and whose members consisted of the wealthiest men in Texas, mostly from old
money. The TCC was known to help a number of worthy causes in the community and Helping Hands, a
newly opened women’s shelter located in the small, impoverished section of wealthy Maverick County,
was one of them. They provided all the shelter’s funding.
Summer had interviewed for the position at the shelter and once she had been offered the job, had
decided it would be a good way to have a fresh start. She had made the move from Austin, where she
had been living for the past six years.
“How did you get the job?” She couldn’t help but ask.
He shrugged. “I own a security company.”
She raised a brow, surprised he had gotten out of law enforcement. He’d made a good police detective
and she’d figured it would be his career. “How long have you been living in Somerset?” she asked.
“Around six years.”
It was the same amount of time she had lived in Austin. He had moved here a year after they had broken
up. She quickly recalled that they really hadn’t broken up since they had never truly been together…at
least not like she’d assumed they had.
“If you’re through with your interrogation, I’d like to get to work,” he said.
“Fine. I’ll get out of your way if you need to work in here for a while,” she said, getting up from her
desk. Seeing him again after all this time was just a bit too much. Bittersweet memories were trying to
invade her brain and she was determined to fight them back.
“If you need anything, just let the shelter’s secretary, Marcy Dillard, know. I’ll use this time to go to
lunch.”
She grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer and quickly moved past him toward the door.
“Summer?”
She paused just before reaching the door and turned around. “Yes?”
He still had a hard look in his eyes. “I would say welcome to town, but I wouldn’t mean it.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Then I guess that means we’ll have to learn to tolerate each other, doesn’t it?”
Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and continued walking out the door.
Darius leaned back against the desk and watched Summer until she was no longer in sight. It was only
then that he made an attempt to begin breathing normally again. But it was hard because although he
couldn’t see her, he still managed to feel her presence.
Seven years was a long time, yet today when a startled Summer had looked up at him and met his gaze,
he’d felt a sensation that was like a swift kick in the gut. Potent memories had flooded his mind, forcing
him to recall what she had come to mean to him in such a short period of time, and just how deep her
betrayal had cut.
He hit his fist on the desk, angry and frustrated. How could he still find her so desirable after all this
time? After all she’d done? Why had seeing her sent sensuous shivers down his spine? She was seven
years older, no longer a mere nineteen-year-old who hadn’t decided what she wanted out of life other
than to be free of an obsessive ex-fiancé. She was just as stunning as he remembered. Even more so.
She had matured beautifully. She was about five-eight, tall and slim with shoulder-length straight brown
hair and hazel eyes he could always drown in. Her skin tone, the color of café au lait, had always
tempted him to lick her all over.
Darius bowed his head momentarily as even more memories he had tried so hard to forget resurfaced.
After college, he’d gotten a job with the Houston Police Department as a detective with aspirations of
moving up the ranks. Authorities had been called to the scene regarding a domestic dispute, and Darius
and his partner, Walt Stewart, had been the first to arrive.
A young woman who had obtained a restraining order against her ex-fiancé was in danger. The man,
named Tyrone Whitman, had broken into her apartment and was holding a gun to her head, threatening
to kill her unless she took him back.
While Walt tried talking him into surrendering, Darius was able to get into the apartment through a rear
bathroom window, overtake Whitman and free Summer.
Concern for her safety when Whitman was released on bond allowed Darius to convince himself that it
was important to keep checking on her. But then it became obvious it was a lot more than that. Pointblank,
he had been attracted to her and thought she was a special woman who’d gotten mixed up with
/> the wrong guy, and was trying to get her life together. Against his better judgment, although he’d been
warned by Walt that Summer wasn’t really what she seemed, he had fallen for her, and fallen hard.
He’d assumed he had gotten to know her, and thought she felt the same way after a night they had spent
together filled with so much sexual chemistry that it could only end one way: they had made love. Deep,
passionate love. Shudders passed through him just remembering that night and the effect it had on him.
It was a night he could never forget, although over the past seven years he had tried like hell to do so.
And it was a night that apparently had meant more to him than it had to her.
The following day he had left town when he received word of his brother Ethan’s near-fatal car accident.
He’d had to leave immediately for Charleston and when he couldn’t reach Summer, and had been unable
to leave her a message because her voice-mail box was full, he’d left word with his partner to let her
know what happened. When he had returned to Houston a week later, he discovered that Summer had
packed up and left town without leaving word as to where she’d gone. She’d told Walt to tell him that
she wanted to build a new life for herself and was leaving town with an older man. A very wealthy one—
something Darius was not.
After nearly losing his brother, it had almost destroyed him to find out that he had lost her, that she had
turned her back on what could have been between them to take up with a man with money.
A hard smile formed on his lips and he wondered what she would think to discover that he was now a
wealthy man, thanks to smart investments and the success of his security firm. She thought he’d been
hired as a laborer for the TCC—he could just imagine her reaction when she discovered he was a
member of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. The same club that was funding the shelter, including her salary.
Another thought crept into his mind, one that made his skin crawl. What if she knew already? What if
the reason she was in Somerset was because she’d heard about his success and assumed after all this
time she could ease her way back in his good graces? A woman looking for a wealthy husband would do
just about anything. He’d been gullible before and wondered if she thought he would be gullible again.
Considering her actions seven years ago, he wouldn’t put anything past her.
He leaned against her desk as those thoughts filled his mind. She wasn’t wearing a ring on her finger,
which was a good indication that she wasn’t married. And she had acted surprised to see him. But then it
could have very well been an act. He had found out the hard way just what a good actress she was. One
thing was for certain: he wouldn’t be letting his guard down. She had taken advantage of his heart before
but she wouldn’t be doing so again.
He was about to begin the work he’d come to do when his cell phone went off. Recognizing the special
ringtone, he pulled it off his belt and clicked it on. “Yes, Lance?”
“Hey, man, sorry I missed your call earlier.”
“No problem. I just wanted you to know that I heard from Fire Chief Ingle. I’m meeting with him
tomorrow evening to go over some things. He indicated that he’ll have the official report ready in a
week and that it contains proof that the fire was deliberately set.”
Lance Brody was Darius’s best friend from college at the University of Texas, where the two of them,
along with another good friend, Kevin Novak, had been roommates. The three had forged a bond that
would last a lifetime. There was nothing one wouldn’t do for the other and Darius could rightly say that
he could give his two friends credit for his financial success.
Lance, along with his younger brother Mitch, had come from old money and together they owned Brody
Oil and Gas Company. The two had included Darius in a number of successful investment opportunities.
So had Kevin, who’d made his fortune in real estate development.
Lance and Kevin had grown up in Somerset and had tried convincing Darius to move there after college
but he had opted for the job in Houston instead. Then, shortly after that incident with Summer, he’d
decided he would move to Somerset to start a new career and a new life.
He worked closely with his friends, and Lance had hired him to investigate a fire at the Brody Oil and
Gas refinery a few weeks ago. Although there was significant damage, no one had gotten seriously hurt.
Darius had no doubt the fire had been the work of an arsonist, and now Chief Ingle had confirmed his
suspicions.
“I can’t wait until we nail Alex. I intend to make sure that he rots in jail,” Lance was saying.
Lance and Mitch were certain they knew the identity of the arsonist. He was the long-time hated rival of
the Brodys, a man by the name of Alejandro “Alex” Montoya.
“Calm down, Lance. The man is innocent until proven guilty,” Darius said.
“Wait until the report comes out. Mark my word, Alex Montoya is the person behind that fire.”
“That may very well be the case,” Darius said, knowing just how convinced Lance was of Alex’s guilt.
“But it has to be proven. How’s Kate?” Darius asked, trying to change the subject. Lance and Kate had
eloped to Vegas a few weeks ago.
“Kate’s fine and I know what you’re trying to do, Darius.”
Darius couldn’t help but chuckle. “If you know, then humor me. I need like hell to laugh about now.”
“Sounds like it’s been one of those days for you,” Lance said.
“You don’t know the half of it. Summer is here.”
There was a pause. “Summer? Your Summer?”
Darius could have really laughed out loud at that one, since Summer had never truly been his. But at one
time he’d thought she was, and he had told Lance all about her. “Yes, Summer Martindale.”
“What’s she doing in Somerset?”
Darius sighed deeply. “She’s a social worker at Helping Hands. I showed up to set up security and work
on the billing system for the place, and walked right into her office.”
“Must have been one hell of a reunion.”
“Hey, what can I say?”
Lance chuckled. “You can say you need a drink. Sounds like it, anyway. Meet me at the TCC Café when
you’re ready to take a break for lunch.”
Moments later, Darius hung up the phone thinking Lance was right. He needed a drink.
Summer settled into the booth at the Red Sky Café three blocks from the shelter. It was the first week of
August and such a beautiful day that she had enjoyed the walk. It had given her a chance to compose
herself after seeing Darius again.
She glanced around the café. The Red Sky was a place she had been frequenting for lunch since working
at Helping Hands and she had become friendly with the owners. The Timmons had grown up in this
section of Maverick County and had been instrumental in approaching members of the TCC about the
need for a shelter in the community.
The shelter was a full-service center that provided a safe place for women who’d experienced all types
of violence to heal and plan for their future. Helping Hands had opened their doors a few months ago
and she’d been hired as part of its counseling team. Summer couldn’t help but appreciate the members
of the Texas Cattleman’s Club for funding the shelter. She of all people knew how important such a
facility was.
She had dated Tyrone for a few months, but it was only after they’d gotten engaged that she’d
discovered his mean-spirited, possessive nature that on occasion would become abusive, both mentally
and physically. She had sought the help of a shelter in Houston and there had found the strength to break
things off with him. The social worker at the shelter had helped her to see that although she couldn’t
control Tyrone’s behavior toward her, she could control how she responded to it and remove herself
from the situation.
Her choice to end things was something Tyrone couldn’t accept and he had begun stalking her, which
was the reason she’d put the restraining order in place. Months had gone by when he’d appeared at her
apartment one night, and forced his way inside, threatening her life. Chills went up her spine as she
remembered that time.
After her own horrible experience with Tyrone, not to mention her heartbreak with Darius, she didn’t
trust her instincts where men were concerned so she just left them alone. Over the years she had buried
herself in her books, getting her degree. After college she had concentrated on her work as an advocate
for battered women.
“What are you going to have today, Miss Martindale?”
Summer smiled as she glanced up into the face of Tina Kay, one of the waitresses. Tina had been one of
her first clients at Helping Hands and at seventeen, one of her youngest. A runaway after being shifted
from foster home to foster home, Tina had become the victim of physical abuse at the hands of her
boyfriend, a guy who had convinced her she deserved the beatings he’d been giving her.
Summer couldn’t help but recall her own story. After high school, she had wanted to see the world. Aunt
Joanne, who had raised her after her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was thirteen,
tried to get her to remain in Birmingham. But she’d left Alabama to work her way to California. Along
the way, she ended up in Houston where she found a job as a waitress at a chain restaurant. That’s where
she’d met Tyrone. The company he worked for frequently made deliveries to the restaurant. Something