His Deception

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “We’ll help you.” Thorne just hoped nothing bad had happened to the dog. “What about your arm?” He pointed. “The bruises.”

  Panic crossed the kid’s face. “Nothing. I was just messing around with one of my friends.”

  About to question him further, Thorne stopped when Katelyn laid a heavy hand on his elbow and gave him a look that made him back down.

  “Hi,” she said, “I’m Katelyn Wade and this is Thorne Hudson. And you are…?”

  “Joey Lawson.”

  “Maybe we can help you, Joey,” she said. “What kind of dog are we looking for?”

  “He’s just a fuzzy-faced mutt. Brown and black fur.” He held his hand about two feet off the ground. “About this big.”

  “Which way did you come?” Thorne asked.

  The kid turned and pointed. “From Prairie Springs. But I didn’t let him off the leash until we were away from town and in the woods.”

  Thorne figured that would make it less than a quarter mile away. “And he just ran off?”

  The kid nodded. “After a rabbit.”

  “Then let’s go back the way you came,” Thorne said. “Maybe we can pick up his tracks and figure out which way he went.”

  Katelyn slipped her hand in his and gave it an approving squeeze.

  They followed the boy back the way he came until Thorne spotted some crushed greenery and, on further inspection, a distinct paw print in the dirt.

  “Looks like he went this way.” He pointed in a direction away from the cabin.

  With a brilliant smile just for him, Katelyn asked, “What are we waiting for?”

  They headed in the direction of the tracks, through an area with scattered trees and then into a meadow. They hadn’t gotten far when Thorne swore he heard a muffled whine.

  “Did you hear that?” Katelyn asked.

  “Harley!” the kid yelled.

  A muffled bark answered.

  “I’m coming for you, boy!” Joey called out as he picked up his pace and sped in the dog’s direction, quickly outdistancing the adults. “Don’t run off again!”

  But Thorne didn’t think the dog was going anywhere. He hoped he was okay, since the yaps and whines were alternating, all seeming to come from one spot. He had to be trapped. Katelyn must have been thinking the same thing, because she had a grip on his hand that told him she was worried.

  And there was reason to be.

  Before them, they saw the kid throw himself on the ground, flat on his stomach, his upper body hanging over a large hole. “You’re gonna be okay, Harley. We’ll get you out of there.” But when he looked back at Thorne, his expression told a different story.

  “Don’t worry, we will get him out.”

  “How?”

  How, indeed. The dog was in a sinkhole. This part of Wisconsin was dotted with fissures, caverns, and sinkholes created when water dissolved dolomite rock far below the surface. This sinkhole looked to be about ten feet both wide and deep. Harley barked and jumped at the hole’s wall, pulling more dirt down on top of himself. Obviously, he’d been trying to climb out to no avail.

  “What are we going to do?” the kid asked.

  “I’m going to go get a rope,” Thorne said. “You’re not going to do anything but step away from that hole before you fall in, too.”

  “But if Harley doesn’t see me, he’ll be afraid and keep jumping and maybe go deeper.”

  Unfortunately, the kid had a point. “Okay, but back off that edge. Just let him see your face and talk to him in a nice, gentle tone. Calm him down as much as you can.”

  “I’ll stay and make sure they’re both okay,” Katelyn said.

  Thorne didn’t argue with her—he’d taken her out of danger’s way by bringing her here, after all. He was already running when he said, “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  As he sped up, he could hear the kid talking the dog down.

  Thank God the trespasser had been a kid searching for his lost dog, not something more dangerous. The thought of there being any threat to Katelyn had triggered his basest instincts. He would have done anything to protect her. Until the kid’s crying had pulled him out of it, he’d been responding with the same instinct that had overcome him in Afghanistan when his unit had been under attack. That had never happened with a client before.

  No other client had been Katelyn.

  He’d never before had a personal involvement with someone he was guarding.

  If the menace had been real and someone had tried to hurt her, he didn’t think he would have been able to control himself. He would have acted on that instinct that had kept him alive for two years.

  No matter what, he would have kept Katelyn alive. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized his feelings for her were stronger than he’d wanted to admit.

  The cabin came into view. He headed straight for his truck, but rather than taking the rope he had stored in back, he climbed into the driver’s seat and drove to the sinkhole. Once off the road, it was a bumpy ride, and he took care to avoid any areas that looked dicey. He stopped the truck a dozen feet from the maw and got out.

  Katelyn backed away from where Joey was still talking to his dog in a quiet, calm tone. “He’s doing great,” she said.

  Thorne nodded, pulled a long coil of rope from the back of the truck, and tied one end to a cleat in the rear. Then he snatched a large leather bag from the back, emptied it of some tools, and took it and the rope to the edge of the sinkhole. The kid’s expression was a cross between gratitude and tears.

  Joey got to his feet. “Do I tie that around my waist to get down there?”

  “You’re not going anywhere. I am.”

  “But he’s my dog.”

  “And I’m going to let you pull him up, you and Katelyn, after I get him in this bag.” Thorne tossed the bag over his shoulder and let the rope slide down into the hole. “You’ll have to talk to him the whole time so he’s not scared. But wait until I get him ready to pull up. He needs to pay attention to me until then.”

  “Okay.”

  Holding on to the rope with both hands, Thorne eased himself over the edge. Leaning slightly away from the wall, he “walked” his way down the dirt and rock wall.

  “Hey, Harley, how’s it going, boy?”

  The dog whined but didn’t move. He looked scared and exhausted.

  Crouching, Thorne held out his hand. Though hesitant, the dog moved close enough to sniff it and let Thorne pet him. Setting down the bag, Thorne patted the center. “Come on, Harley, let’s get you out of here.”

  Relief filled him when the dog gingerly stepped into the center. Thorne patted him then, murmuring silly things to him to keep him calm, then lifted the handles and tied the end of the rope through them. Standing, he picked up the canine-filled bag and lifted it over his head.

  “Okay, pull him up.”

  Thankfully, Katelyn and Joey had only several feet to pull him, and the kid kept talking to him all the way up.

  “Good boy….Take it easy….That’s it….Harley, you’re okay!”

  The dog barked his agreement, and once Thorne could see the joy in the kid’s face when he had the dog in his arms, he yelled, “Katelyn, untie the rope and throw it back down!”

  —

  Thankfully, Thorne was able to pull himself out of the sinkhole. Considering his size, Katelyn knew she wouldn’t have been strong enough to do it. The truck could have done it. Of course, the thought of driving anything that big made her stomach whirl. Her own car was a small hybrid.

  Looping the rope as he moved toward his truck, Thorne wore remnants of the sinkhole on his person. When he turned toward her, Katelyn noticed his face was smudged with dirt, too.

  She smothered a grin, saying, “My hero.”

  “Anyone would have done it.”

  “Not anyone could have done it. Shows what fine condition you are in, my man.” Katelyn looked over at the reunited dog and his young owner, who were still bonding. “What now?”

  “We
take them home.”

  Touched that he was so intent on helping Joey and his dog, Katelyn gave him a radiant smile.

  “C’mon, Joey,” Thorne said, voice gruff. “Let’s get you and your mutt in the truck.”

  She didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on the boy’s bruised arm. Or how his brow furrowed before he rounded the vehicle and got behind the wheel. Did he suspect the boy hadn’t been truthful about getting the bruises while messing around with a friend?

  Five minutes later, following Joey’s directions, they crossed Main Street and stopped in front of a small house that the boy pointed out.

  “Thanks again, mister,” Joey said as he alighted, Harley at his side.

  “It’s Thorne. And you’re welcome.”

  The kid repeated “Thorne” as the front door opened and a harried-looking, too-thin woman with dishwater-blond hair came rushing out. “Harley and me won’t forget you. Hey, Mom.”

  His mother took a good look at him and her expression grew fearful. That’s when Katelyn noticed her black eye.

  “Joey, what happened?” Mrs. Lawson asked. “You’re both filthy!”

  “Harley ran away from me and fell in a hole, Mom. Thorne and Katelyn helped me get him out.”

  “Take him around back and clean yourself and him up right away before your father sees you.”

  “Okay.” He waved at them and hurried the dog to the back of the house.

  The woman faced them and licked her lips. “Thank you for your help with my boy, but you should leave now.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing else we can do?” Thorne asked. “Maybe for you?”

  Fear crossed Mrs. Lawson’s expression. She shook her head. “No, no, please just go.”

  Thorne put the truck in gear and moved off.

  “Poor woman,” Katelyn said. “Poor kid. I wish there was something we could do.”

  “There is.”

  At the end of the block, he rounded the corner and stopped.

  “What are you doing?”

  He reached over and opened the glove compartment in front of her. “I’m going to make a call.”

  When he pulled out a cellphone, she noticed what sat at the back of the compartment before he closed the door: a handgun. The last thing she’d expected to see. Startled into silence, she glanced his way and noticed he was calling 911.

  “Yes, I would like to report an abusive situation in Prairie Springs”—he hesitated a second, then said—“in the Lawson home.”

  He quickly reported the kid’s bruises and the mother’s black eye, then gave the Lawsons’ address before hanging up.

  Surprised, Katelyn said, “You didn’t give them our names or numbers.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you have enough problems to deal with right now between the threat to your father and the investigation going on at Lakeside. I don’t want to embroil you in something else having to do with the authorities.”

  He reached over and replaced the cellphone in the glove compartment, giving her another brief glimpse of his weapon. A lot of people in Wisconsin own guns. He’d been in the military. Maybe having one in his truck made him feel safer on the road.

  So she chose a neutral topic. “I thought you had your cell in your pocket.”

  “I do. That one’s a burner.” He put the vehicle in gear and pulled into the street. “I misplaced my cell a couple of weeks ago, bought that phone, then found the missing one.”

  A logical explanation. So why did it bother her just a little? She couldn’t quite say.

  Everything Thorne had done was aboveboard, as usual. Rescuing the kid and dog. Trying to rescue the kid and his mother from the apparently violent father. And all the while protecting her. Again. He was really good at doing that. He’d had her back since the day she’d met him. That she’d known him for less than a week flitted through her thoughts, but it didn’t matter how briefly she’d known him. Thorne Hudson had proved to be a good and selfless man. The kind of man any woman would want in her life.

  Katelyn realized she did want Thorne in her life, even though she had no idea how long he meant to stick around. He hadn’t hidden the fact that he moved from place to place. Or that he didn’t call any one place home.

  Which meant that he could up and leave at any time.

  Leave her, despite the fact that she was falling for him.

  Falling hard.

  What was she going to do about it?

  All the way back to the cabin, they drove in silence. Katelyn felt there was something about the way he was holding his body, about the absence of expression in his chiseled face. He wasn’t his usual positive self. Because seeing Joey’s bruises had bothered him so much? He’d told her he’d run off at fifteen so he wouldn’t kill his foster father if the man put his hands on him again. Thorne’s words had made her realize that he recognized his own potential for violence. And he’d had to face it while in the military, she was certain. But in the altercation with the drunk at the bar, he’d subdued the man efficiently without hurting him. He’d learned how to show strength without being cruel.

  Ever since he’d shown up on her doorstep, Thorne Hudson had revealed nothing but decency, and she believed that no matter what was festering inside him, he focused on the good.

  Which made her believe in him.

  Wanting him to forget the awful things in his own past, Katelyn thought maybe it was time for her to rescue him rather than the other way around. There was only one way she could think of to do that. Even if it was only for today.

  Back at his friend’s property, he drove straight to the house and parked. Only after they left the truck and headed for the house did he seem to relax a bit. His big body appeared looser, his expression less intense.

  She still needed the code to get in the keyless door, so she simply watched him enter the five numbers, then set them in her mind. Opening the door, he turned off the alarm.

  Getting a look at himself in the door’s glass inset as he closed it, Thorne groaned. “Maybe I should just walk over to the lake and jump in to clean up.”

  Putting her plan into motion, she innocently said, “Or we could take a shower.”

  “We?”

  “You need someone to wash your back.”

  Tension tightened his muscles again, but this was a good tension. Tension that would be good for them both.

  She pushed him toward the bedroom. He didn’t resist. She pulled him into the master bath. He let her.

  The shower was so large it was virtually open, with half a wall of glass all that was needed to keep the water where it belonged.

  Kicking off her sandals, she shoved him inside. He took her with him, managing to get his shoes off and tossed outside the shower by the time he got to the far wall.

  She turned on the rain-shower showerhead. He took off her clothes.

  “But you’re the one who’s dirty,” she complained. Rivulets of gray where water met dirt from the sinkhole raced down to the drain. “Your clothes are disgusting.”

  “Filthy,” he agreed. He spread his arms. “So take them off.”

  She did so in a minute flat, turned on the body jets that sprayed at them from two walls, then pumped shower gel into her palm. Rubbing both palms together, she began soaping him with her hands.

  He managed to hold off making a move on her until she arrowed her hands downward from his stomach and circled his erection with soapy fingers. Pulling her to him, he kissed her breathless, but she didn’t let him distract her. Using her fingertips, she traced every line, every crevasse of his cock. He tried to push himself inside her, but she held him off. Thought about what it would feel like as she slid her soapy fingers along his length.

  Now his hands were soapy, too, and they were stroking her breasts, sliding around to her back and down to her buttocks. He reached down and under from behind and spread her thighs so she opened to his touch. He pulsed her in rhythm with the water from the jet
s hitting sensitive parts of their bodies. Then a surprise move on his part: He whirled her around so she was facing the jets, her hands braced against the wall before her, him pressing from behind her. Circling her thighs with his hands, he opened her to the water and slid into her from behind. She was being pummeled from both directions, a hard stream of water hitting her clit with a rhythm that made her move against it while he moved against her.

  His hands were on her breasts, feeling their weight, thumbing her nipples, then rolling the hardened nubs between thumb and forefinger. The pleasure was so intense, she couldn’t hold on much longer. She could tell he wasn’t ready, so she tried to think of things to delay the end.

  “Come for me,” he murmured in her ear.

  “No, not yet.”

  “We have all night. Come for me now.”

  “You’re not ready,” she breathlessly argued.

  “I will be when I feel you bucking against me.”

  With that, he nuzzled the juncture of her neck and shoulder and slammed into her from behind. Harder. Faster. Deeper. His teeth tearing at her soft flesh. His fingers twisting her hardened nipples. Water ramming into her clit.

  She cried out and lost control, her hips slamming into him as she started the trip to paradise.

  As promised, he went there with her before falling against her, pulling her around, and sinking to the shower floor, where they sat gasping for breath and laughing at the same time.

  “Told you so. There’s no way I can resist you,” he murmured, kissing her sweetly.

  Punctuating the exact instant Katelyn realized she was falling madly, deeply, deliriously in love with him.

  Chapter 9

  As he and Katelyn curled together on a couch before the fireplace he’d lit despite the warmth of the night, Thorne tried to come to terms with his feelings for her, considering the truth of their situation. A truth she didn’t yet know. He ought to pull back, put some distance between them now. But he couldn’t. Truth be told, he had a bad, bad feeling about how she was going to react when she learned that he’d come to Lake Geneva to be her secret bodyguard. She didn’t like lies. She’d been clear about that in her description of her family life and the way her former boyfriend had deceived her.