by Jill Shalvis
"Haley." He touched her shoulder and she jerked back, eyes wide, until she saw him. The way she sucked in her fear both fascinated and infuriated him. He reached over and switched off the vacuum. "You never ate breakfast," he said inanely. Never ate? Who was he, her mother?
"I'm not hungry." Leaning forward, she reached again for the vacuum, but he stopped her.
"It's hard to talk with that on."
Without a sign of the smile he'd hoped for, she said, "I know."
"Are you all right?"
"Of course." But she avoided his gaze as they wrestled over the vacuum. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, but I wish you could tell me." She chewed her lip, silent, and he tried another tactic. "I'm going into town. Come with me?"
"I have work."
"It'll wait."
"I don't think so," she said quietly. "Thanks."
So polite, so distant. So hurt. He turned her toward him, aching a little at the turmoil he sensed just beneath her surface. Surprised at the surge of tenderness and protectiveness she somehow invoked, he found he couldn't let go of her. "Haley, we need to talk."
She'd stiffened at his touch. "About?"
Start slow, he warned himself. Real slow. "Your salary and hours, for one. We never discussed it."
"It doesn't matter."
"It should. What you're doing here is important to us, and we want to make sure you get compensated. And I don't want you working all hours of the day."
She looked at him then. "What I meant was, I'd work here for free."
Touched, he reached up and caressed her jaw. "We're that great, huh?"
She shook her head, a little noise of wordless amazement escaping her. "You have no idea what you have here, do you?"
"What do you mean?" His hand slid to her lovely neck.
"Your family," she said, closing her eyes when his thumb played with the sensitive spot at the base of her neck. Her pulse fluttered wildly, flattering him. "You take them for granted," she whispered. "You shouldn't. They are … wonderful."
"Yes, they are." Because he couldn't help himself, he bent his head to the spot he'd touched and tasted her. Her hands came up to grip his shoulders hard, but she didn't push him away. He took his time, cruising his mouth over her jaw. When he looked at her again, those incredibly blue eyes had turned cloudy with confusion, and with what he hoped was arousal.
"You're a part of this family now," he said, meaning it. "We want you to be."
"You don't even know me."
"I know," he admitted, sliding his lips softly across hers once. The touch electrified him, and her, too, if that husky catch of breath was any indication. "But I want to. Let me know you, Haley. Trust me."
She shook her head but still didn't draw back. "I'm not ready for that. Please…"
"Please what?" He kissed her softly again, biting back his moan at her incredible sweetness.
"I think," she said shakily, stepping away, "we should go to town now."
He smiled past the ache of her inability to trust him, relieved she'd agreed to come. "On the way you can tell me how much you want in wages."
She looked uncomfortable. "I told you. I don't care about that. You're already giving me room and board."
"You must need money, Haley," he said gently. "Come on, you can think about it while I drive."
"Fine. But I'm only going with you because there're some things I need," she warned. "So don't get any ideas." She pushed him aside lightly.
"What kind of ideas?" he asked, all sorts of wicked ones dancing in his head before he could stop himself.
She blushed. "Oh, just forget it."
They were in his truck before she spoke again. "Since you insist on paying me," she said in that haughty, sexy voice he loved, "I think you should know—I don't come cheap."
He threw back his head and laughed. "I never thought so, Ms. Williams. I never thought so."
After that, he let her sit quietly, as she seemed to want to do on the long drive into Colorado Springs. Once there, she refused to accept his company, insisting that he drop her off at a minimall while he went on to the lumber store. Though it roused his suspicions again, he really had no choice. She was entitled to her privacy and distance.
He needed his distance, as well. He had no idea what was happening to him, but it had to stop. There could be nothing between him and Haley. Nothing. At least not until he knew what she was hiding.
* * *
Haley glanced longingly at the cash machine outside the grocery store, wishing she could get the money she needed. But fear was a heavy motivation.
It would lead them—Alda?—straight to her.
Alda. Haley struggled to remember a sane world, and the kind, caring woman Alda had always seemed. But that led to worry about what she should do next, and since she hadn't a clue, she gave up. She had to stay hidden or she'd find herself as dead as Bob. Or worse, rotting away in a South American jail cell. If she could just stay safe until Alda made a mistake. If only she hadn't panicked on the USGS call, she might have learned more. If, if, if.
With a heavy sigh, Haley turned around, trying to decide how far the twenty dollars she had would take her. There were some things she needed she just couldn't bring herself to ask Nellie for. As she moved toward the automatic doors of the store, her wandering gaze collided abruptly with a medium-build, dark-haired man who stood across the way. He leaned against a pole, staring at her.
No big deal. Just a curious stranger. Absolutely nothing to worry about. But he watched her intently, and her heart pumped triple time. This as ridiculous, she told herself, even as she dashed into the store and decked behind one of the newspaper stands, shaking. Ridiculous, she repeated to herself. But she made herself walk down two long aisles before venturing back out again.
The man had disappeared.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Haley studied the minimall carefully and spotted a bakery. Surely she deserved a doughnut after that scare. Heading down the walk toward the bakery, she stopped to admire the delicious, flaky-looking croissants in the display case. She was hungry. And she'd forgotten to eat, again. No wonder her head and stomach hurt. Yep, she was going to splurge and buy herself—
A shadow fell across her, blocking out the sun. Reflected in the window, and standing directly behind her, was the same stranger.
With a strangled gasp, Haley moved quickly, racing down the walk and slamming into the first store she came to.
A video store.
Haley dashed down an aisle of videos. Trembling behind a life-size cardboard cutout of Tom Cruise, she looked around. What should she do? What if he came in here and grabbed her? She'd scream like hell, that was what!
No one came. Huddled behind the huge poster, she began to feel relieved. Then incredibly foolish. Of course, no one came—because no one was after her.
She had to stop these panic attacks. They did nothing but annoy her ulcer and make her head ache. Her fear was totally unfounded. She'd left no clue, no trace. And who could possibly guess that Dr. Haley Whitfield, head of EVS's team of geologists, was now doing duty as a housekeeper on some ranch in Colorado? No one. Encouraged by that, she straightened and left the store. The man had disappeared.
Eager to be on her way, Haley slipped into the bakery, almost desperate now for food. Her head throbbed, her stomach grumbled and hurt. Nothing like panic to stir an appetite.
"I'll have one of those croissants," she said politely, bending over the display and pointing.
"Sure thing, ma'am."
Haley raised her gaze and froze. Behind the counter was her stranger. The man who'd been following her. Their eyes met—his cold, hard and knowing—and she whirled.
Running, blinded by fear, Haley expected to be grabbed any moment. Or shot. Her skin crawled. Her breath escaped her in sobs as she fumbled with the door, and for a second, she thought she couldn't get out, that he'd caught up with her and was holding it shut. As she fought and clawed at the handle, her heart slammed each
beat, but finally the door opened. Without looking back, she took off. The prickly feeling at the base of her neck increased. She was being followed. Oh, God. Her feet pounded the cement walk, and as she got to the front of the grocery store, she chanced a glance over her shoulder, still running full speed.
Then, with a sickening thud, she crashed into something as hard and ungiving as a steel pole, and it knocked the sense right out of her.
Cam's first thought from flat on his back, with Haley stretched out over him, was Ouch! But he tightened his grip on her as she began to struggle, wincing when he got a knee uncomfortably close to his groin. "Lie still a minute, Haley."
She reared back, her eyes wide, her face so pale it looked translucent. "Cameron? Oh, God, he's right behind me."
Cam managed to pull his wits together after the bone-shaking collision to look over Haley's shoulder, but both the walkway and the parking lot were empty. He held her arms. "Who?"
Haley glanced around, but when she saw no one, she sagged over him. "He's gone. Again." Then she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.
Concerned, he sat up, cradling her in his lap right there on the sidewalk. "Haley?" He pushed the hair from her face, but she only shook her head and burrowed tighter against him. Her arms, still clamped around his neck, trembled, and his alarm grew. "What happened?"
She shivered.
He looked around them, prepared for anything. An older woman got out of a station wagon, went into the dry cleaners. A teenager came out of the grocery store. Somewhere, a truck started and rumbled away.
Nothing out of the ordinary. "Haley?" He stroked her chilled arms. "Who's gone?" She just held him, so he sighed and pulled her closer. "I'm here now," he whispered in her ear, soothing her as best he could. If anyone thought it strange to see a man and a woman embracing on the sidewalk, no one said a word. "Come on," he said after a minute. "Let's get you back to the truck."
"I'm okay." Her voice, muffled against his shirt, sounded embarrassed. But she pushed out of his arms, sniffled once, and avoided his gaze.
He knelt before her. "Haley, can you tell me—" He stopped abruptly as she went even paler, and her pupils shrank into twin pinpoints of shock. Swearing, he pushed her head between her knees. "Take a deep breath," he demanded, sick with worry. "There you go. No, damn it, don't try to get up yet. You'll faint. Come on now, another one. That's the way, darlin', do it again."
When she'd done as he said, and when her color looked slightly better, he yanked her back into his arms. Too skinny, he thought, rocking her slowly. Too damn skinny. He hadn't seen her eat enough to sustain a bird, and he cursed himself now, noticing how light and fragile she felt in his arms.
"Haley, tell me what frightened you."
After a hesitation, she shook her head. "Nothing. I'm sorry. It was nothing."
The slow anger he'd kept buried for years surfaced. Another liar, his brain screamed. But this fabrication wasn't over an outrageous credit-card bill. Or whom she'd lunched with. No, this was much more serious. Cupping the back of Haley's head, Cam looked into her eyes. They darted nervously from his. The rage built, but strangely enough, not at her. Someone had indeed frightened her, and he didn't like it. "Haley—"
"Please," she begged softly. "Let it go."
Memories assaulted him, of another woman. Dammit. He wouldn't push yet another to trust him. He wouldn't. "No. I won't let it go."
"I'm fine," she repeated. "Really."
"Right." Cam stood, and just managed not to groan at his aches and pain from having been slammed to the concrete. He reached down and, despite her protests, scooped her up, then marched to the truck.
"I can walk!"
She might not weigh enough, but she did feel good against his chest. "Humor me."
Huffing a little, she settled against him. "This isn't a movie, Cameron. You're not some cowboy hero."
Without a word, he settled her in his truck, removing his hands from her with some reluctance, which only annoyed him all the more. "When was the last time you ate?"
She looked away, a habit that was quickly becoming irritating. "Haley, dammit."
She scowled. "I don't know. Yesterday. I think."
He swore ripely, the temper he rarely acknowledged simmering a slow burn. "You little fool." He slammed her door, then leaned down to look at her through the open window. "I'm going to the bakery to get you something to eat. Don't move."
"No! Not in there," she said quickly.
"Why not?" He glanced back over his shoulder, saw nothing. But when he looked at her again, she'd collected herself, even if she was as pale as a ghost. At this point, he refused to speculate, just reacted with the fear she'd instilled in him. "One more time. What in the hell's going on?"
"Nothing."
He took a deep breath. Resting his elbows against the door, he gave her a long look. "Haley, darlin', you were running like hell when I found you."
Again, she looked away. He brought her face back, keeping his voice low with difficulty. "You jumped me."
Still no answer.
"Oh, I know," he said conversationally, his eyes sharp on her, waiting for a reaction. "You missed me." He watched the emotions war within her; the humiliation of having misled him to think she missed him, against her need to keep her reasons to herself.
"Yes, I missed you," she eventually agreed, the words coming from between clenched teeth. "Hope I didn't hurt you in my excitement."
She still didn't trust him enough to let him help her, and that got to him good. Her pallor hadn't changed. The realization that she was convinced whoever she'd run from would, and could, come get her, sobered him. The urge to protect was amazingly strong, made all the more difficult for him because he was still furious with her. Changing his mind about the bakery, he straightened, walked around to get back into his truck.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"We're going to a drive-through." He thrust the truck in gear. "And while we're doing it, you can explain things to me."
He quickly pulled into the first fast-food place he came to and ordered just about everything on the menu. Then he looked at her, only to find her staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What? Did I forget something?"
"You ordered enough food for ten people."
Nerves, he wanted to tell her. And he hadn't felt them in a good long time.
"Why did you come back so soon?"
"I missed you, too, darlin'." Pulling forward, he paid the lady in the bird hat at window two and took the food.
"You couldn't have gotten your lumber so soon."
"Observant as well as intelligent," he murmured, feeling a little nasty and more than willing to take it out on her. "Eat."
She pulled out a chicken sandwich and took a token bite. Then she shoved that aside, searching through the bag past the salad, past the bread, past the corn on the cob. With a faint smile, she took out the french fries and dug in with gusto.
Cam watched in amazement. "That's the least healthy thing in there."
"I know." She ate another. And another. Then poured catsup all over them and dug in again. Her color came back.
"Eat the other stuff," he protested. "Something good for you."
"I like this," she said stubbornly. "Now tell me why you really came back."
She was stalling, but at least she didn't have that trapped-doe look in her eyes anymore. "I realized that I hadn't given you any money—"
She tensed, then wiped her fingers and shoved the food away. "I don't need your money."
The woman had enough pride to fill his gas tank. "You can't be done eating already." Her scowl deepened and he realized something horrifying—he was nagging again, just like his mother would have. "I just wanted to give you what I owed you for the work you've done."
"I never did get to the store," she said softly.
He pulled back into the lot of the minimall and turned off the engine. "Eat first, while it's hot."
When she had, he ca
me around for her and took her hand as she alighted. He tugged gently until she looked at him. "We're going to talk, Haley. When you're done in here."
"I don't feel much like talking."
"Tough." He nodded toward the store, struggling to rein in all he was feeling. "Let's go."
"You can wait here."
"No way," he said, rubbing his sore and bruised backside. "I can't take another tackle to the pavement."
Heat flooded her face. "I don't need a guard."
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Something scared you here, you can't deny that." He put a finger to her lips when she would have done just that. "Maybe I forgot to tell you I really dislike being lied to. And I'm not leaving you alone, so forget it."
She sighed and entered the automated doors, not looking to see if he followed.
Since it seemed to be so important to her, he pretended not to notice what she threw into the shopping cart, knowing by the lovely shade of pink on her cheeks that she was embarrassed. Halfway down one aisle, he caught her giving the lipsticks a longing glance.
She protested when he stopped. "Come on, I'm done," she said, trying to tug him along.
"Hmm." He touched a fire-engine-red lipstick. "Nice color."
She rolled her eyes.
"Much as I'd love to see this on you, I don't want to have to fight off Zach."
"Don't," she mumbled, still trying to pull him away. "Just forget it."
But he was locked on the image of her in the red lipstick, with matching fingernails and toenails to boot. He caught her horrified gaze and laughed. "Okay, maybe not. But this would be pretty." He held out a light rose-colored gloss. "And I bet it tastes good, too."
At his suggestive leer, she let out a little laugh, making him realize she didn't make that pretty sound nearly often enough.
"Fine." She capitulated, grabbing it from him and tossing it in the cart. "But don't think you're ever going to taste it."
"Uh-oh." He pushed the cart toward the checkout. "Another challenge."
She just shook her head, some of the haunted look fading from her eyes.
Cam bided his time, waiting until they were back in the truck before turning to her. "I'm going to ask you again, Haley. What happened to you today?"