by Terri Reed
As badly as she still wanted to, a part of her was afraid to accept it. So many happy memories had been buried beneath the ash that had once meant everything to her. Quickly on the heels were the bad memories, the knowledge that someone there wanted to see her dead.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” He’d done a fine job of dancing around it. His evasiveness did nothing to ease her suspicion of him. “Tell me. What has happened to my brother?”
Thea held her breath waiting for the answer she needed to hear even though she was certain she wouldn’t like it.
“He’s been shot.”
*
Ronin Parrish had anticipated a few different scenarios of his first meeting with Princess Dorthea. In all of them he’d save the day and she’d come along with him with very little argument. He hadn’t expected the woman standing in front of him, who looked as if she wasn’t sure whether to run or pummel him again with her bag.
At least he’d had the foresight to remove the brick from it if she did.
“Shot?” She choked the single word out on a fragile whisper.
The pain he heard in her voice made him want to take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t. Not only would she not let him within two feet of her without running, but he wasn’t convinced himself. He was many things, but he wasn’t a liar. He wouldn’t sugarcoat the situation just to gain her cooperation.
“He’s in the hospital, but his condition is stable and the doctors expect a full recovery.”
“Take me to him.” Her words sounded very much like a command, but there was a slight waver in her voice. She was strong. Much stronger than he’d imagined. That characteristic could be both good and bad all wrapped up in one tiny princess package.
“I can’t do that.” Having both the royal heirs in the same place at the same time now would only lead to disaster. Every means possible must be used to keep them apart until the threat against them was identified and eliminated.
“I don’t believe you.” Suspicion lit her mossy-green eyes and she shuffled backward. “How do I know you aren’t the one who shot him?”
She was still afraid of him. Not that he could blame her. It would be difficult to trust after the pain and suffering she’d already endured in her twenty-four years. Her mother had died years before, during the birth of her younger sister. Her sister had only been three years old when their father, the king, had been killed, and she’d been lost in the fire that had been set in an attempt to cover his murder.
Leo was all she had left. Being separated from him these past fourteen years had probably taken its toll on her. The next few weeks wouldn’t be any easier than what she had already faced, but there was too much at stake to risk losing her now.
“I didn’t shoot your brother.” Even to him the words seemed like too little. He could only hope she would believe the sincerity in his voice. Now that he finally had the truth within his grasp, he would not let it go.
She was thinking of running again. He could sense it. Feel it as tangibly as the tiny shards of frozen rain beating against his skin. Ronin took a deep breath and squelched the urge to step toward her. Her eyes widened with apprehension. She was ready to flee. He knew she would run until there was no strength left in her. Her instincts were on target. She was in danger.
But not from him.
She took a larger step away, then another.
His mind raced. He could grab her and haul her to his car. There would be kicking and screaming involved. Not exactly the best way to go about gaining her confidence. Short of knocking her unconscious, which was really not an option, he had one shot at swaying her over to willingness.
“There is only one way you are ever going to see your brother again.” He hated using her brother and her need to see him as bribery. But it was the truth. Whether she knew it or not, she really only had one option.
Him. He just had to convince her of that.
She stopped in her tracks but made no move to step in his direction.
Her stillness gave him hope.
Icy pellets crunched beneath his feet as he took a small step toward her.
A gust of bitter wind blew wisps of hair free from her cap. Russet strands danced across her face but didn’t hide the uncertainty that swept over her features. He couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. A tiny part of him admired the way she followed her instincts.
“And what way is that?” Her voice was a soft whisper. Gone was all the gusto she’d tossed at him mere moments ago.
“Come with me.”
“You must think I’m a fool.”
Ronin thought her many things, but a fool was not one of them. She was one of the only people alive who could tell the truth of what had happened the night her father, the king, had been killed. Since that night she’d not spoken of what she’d seen or heard. The secrets buried somewhere in her mind made her an even bigger target than her brother. Not only was she heir to the throne as the firstborn, but she also held the power to condemn the real person responsible for the king’s death. The wrong man had been imprisoned. Ronin knew that to be absolute.
She held the knowledge that could free his father.
“Come with me and you’ll see your brother again. Arrangements are being made this moment for you to reclaim the throne that was taken from your father.”
“That is lunacy.”
“Is it?” he asked.
“Why now?” She stared at him. Her face was nearly devoid of any emotion. Her lips parted, then closed. An argument of pros and cons seemed to war behind her questioning eyes. He could only hope he was close to gaining her cooperation. “We were safe before last week. What has changed to make someone come after me after all this time?”
So many things, he thought. He was unsure of where to begin.
A car passed by them on the street, reminding him of their surroundings. The streetlights crackled and flickered to life just beyond where she stood near the curb. The icy snow mixture was falling heavier, and it was getting darker. He’d hoped to be on the road before night fell.
“Princess Dorthea, there is a lot to explain. But not here.”
She needed to know the truth. She deserved it. He would not keep that from her. He had nothing to hide. He was finished hiding. When he had been sent to bring Leo in, it had taken weeks to gain his trust. Once he had, they had become close friends and Leo had shown him the peace that could only come from living completely in the truth.
Leo had believed in him even when their country hadn’t.
A few seconds ticked away, but it felt like minutes. He didn’t have the benefit of weeks like he’d had with the prince. He watched her, the play of emotions sweeping over her face. She chewed at her bottom lip, her uncertain eyes glancing around her, then back at him. He noticed the instant she made her decision.
At that same moment he spotted the car at the end of the block, its bright lights beamed in their direction. Its tires spun in the ice and gravel mixture covering the road, sending an eerie squeal through the night as it headed toward them.
Toward her.
Copyright © 2015 by Tammy Johnson
ISBN-13: 9781460380024
Targeted
Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Avella
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www.Harlequin.com
“I’M INNOCENT!”
After four years in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, Melanie Swanson’s finally free. Yet starting over brings a heavy load of challenges. Nearly everyone believes she’s guilty—including police lieutenant Jace Tucker. Jace’s certainty cracks only when Melanie is repeatedly attacked, and when the people around her are picked off one by one. Melanie’s clearly innocent—and terrified. Someone wants her dead to keep her shattered memories from recalling the crime she witnessed rather than caused. She lost her friends, her fiancé and her freedom when she was found guilty—but proving her innocence could cost Melanie her life.
Melanie took her aunt’s frail hand in hers. “Aunt Sarah,” she said huskily. “I was so scared. How do you feel?”
“Don’t you worry about me, Melly girl. I’m just relieved to see you safe.”
Melanie gave Lieutenant Tucker a startled glance. Her confusion was mirrored on his face.
“Mrs. Swanson, why wouldn’t your niece be safe?”
Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. Mel could almost feel her aunt’s distrust. After all, he had led her niece away in handcuffs all those years ago.
Now was not the time, though, to harbor grudges.
“Aunt Sarah, if something’s going on, you have to tell Lieutenant Tucker,” she insisted.
“Melly, one of the jurors came to see me,” Sarah whispered. “She was so scared. Said that she had received threats during the trial.”
Lieutenant Tucker stepped closer. “What kind of threats?”
“She was told to vote guilty or else. The young woman said that her conscience was killing her. I think she was worried that whoever wanted you in prison so bad would come after you now that you were free.”
Melanie felt the horror sink into her soul. Would this never end? All she wanted was to try to put her life back together. Somehow, she had found herself in the middle of something dark.
Something deadly.
Dana R. Lynn grew up in Illinois. She met her husband at a wedding and told her parents she had met her future husband. Nineteen months later, they were married. Today, they live in rural Pennsylvania with their three children and enough pets to open a petting zoo. In addition to writing, she works as an educational interpreter for the deaf and is active in several ministries at her church.
Books by Dana R. Lynn
Love Inspired Suspense
Presumed Guilty
Presumed Guilty
By Dana R. Lynn
Trust in the Lord with all your heart; and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.
—Proverbs 3:5–6
This book is dedicated to the memory of my father and my brother, Greg. Miss you.
To my husband, Brad, and my children—I love you so much! You are my greatest blessing.
To my Lord and Savior, I hope my life always gives You glory.
Acknowledgments
So many people to thank!
To my mom, my brothers and my huge extended family… I can’t believe all the support. Thanks!
To my amazing editor at Love Inspired Suspense, Elizabeth Mazer… Thank you for this awesome opportunity. Your guidance has been invaluable. I hope to work with you for many years to come. Yay, Team Elizabeth!
To my agent, Mary Sue Seymour… Thank you for taking a chance on me. I appreciate all you do on my behalf.
To my best friends/prayer warriors, Amy and Dee… What would I do without you guys? Love you!
To my critique partners, Christina, Erica and Rhonda… I couldn’t have done this without you ladies.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
DEAR READER
EXCERPT
ONE
“There she is!”
“Melanie, can you give us a statement? How does it feel to be released? Do you still claim to be innocent?”
“She’s a murderer! She should still be rotting in jail!” Prying questions, angry jeers and insults assailed Melanie’s ears. She kept her head turned away from the mob standing behind the police officers stationed near the road. She had hoped the combination of the brisk March wind and the early hour would keep the vultures away. No such luck. Her heel slipped on a patch of black ice left over from winter. The ghost of a malicious chuckle reached her ear. She steadied herself, trembling.
A rock sailed through the air. It struck her pale cheek. She could feel blood well and drip down her face. She refused to brush it away, to allow them the satisfaction of seeing that she was hurt.
Wow. She was being stoned in public and no one seemed to care. If anything, the sight of her blood seemed to inflame them. The shouts grew louder, and someone started chanting, “Murderer! Murderer!” The crowd picked up the chant. It sent ice down Melanie’s spine.
A muscled arm shot in front of her face, deflecting a second rock. The owner of the arm placed a strong hand on her shoulder. Not in comfort, but in an attempt to keep her moving. She didn’t acknowledge him. She already knew that Lieutenant Jace Tucker agreed with the crowd.
“Officers, control those people!” he barked into the radio fastened to his shoulder.
Mel shuddered as Lieutenant Tucker’s harsh voice washed over her.
Without warning, a swarm of hungry reporters closed in on her, threatening to swallow her whole. She ducked her head to avoid the cameras flashing around her. The cacophony of voices surrounding her was deafening, one voice melting into the next. At least the hooded sweatshirt she was wearing allowed her to hide part of her face. Hopefully, her bleeding cheek wouldn’t make the evening news.
“Melanie, Senator Travis was quoted yesterday as saying you should have served more time for the death of Sylvie Walters. Any comment? Have you talked to his son, your fiancé?”
Ex-fiancé.
Not for the first time, Melanie struggled against bitterness toward the senator, who had used her court case as his own political platform to be harsh on crime. It wouldn’t surprise her to find out he was responsible for this mob.
Melanie kept her face blank, but her chest tightened. One trembling hand slipped into her jeans pocket and closed around her inhaler. Please Lord, let me make it to the car.
One intrepid soul darted past her police escort and thrust a microphone into Mel’s startled face. “Come on, Melanie. You were in prison for almost four years after being convicted of manslaughter. Surely there’s something you’d like to say. A message for Sylvie’s family, maybe?”
The callous remark slammed into her, robbing her of her breath.
“No comment, people. Give us room.”
Against her will, Melanie glanced to her left to take in the man walking beside her. Lieutenant Tucker met her eyes briefly, his own as hard as flint, his face an inscrutable mask.
Why was he here? Couldn’t they have found someone else for this duty—someone who wouldn’t look at her with such clear disdain? Her knees trembled as he moved beside her. She resisted the urge to step away from him. Jerking her eyes forward, she strove to act as though he weren’t there. But his image had been seared into her mind.
>
Strong. Determined. A man of faith. And the man who had personally slapped handcuffs on her and coldly recited her Miranda rights. And now she had to sedately walk by his side as if her heart weren’t pounding and her insides quaking. Pull yourself together, Mel, she ordered herself sternly. All you have to do is make it to Aunt Sarah’s house. Then you never have to set eyes on his odious face again. Okay, so maybe odious was a bit too strong a word. Still, she didn’t think she would be too upset when he was out of her life for good.
She flicked a nervous glance at the stony-faced man beside her, shivering at the utter coldness in his deep blue eyes. His short blond hair was the color of wheat ripe for the harvest. His strong jaw was clenched as he walked by her side, emphasizing the distaste he felt for this assignment.
Well, that was too bad. She straightened her shoulders. Directly ahead, she could see the police cruiser waiting. All she needed to do was get through the gauntlet of reporters and angry protestors.
One of the protestors suddenly thrust himself forward. He planted himself in her way, ignoring the fierce scowl on Lieutenant Tucker’s face. Stabbing a threatening finger at her, the demonstrator leaned in until he was almost touching her. Anger spilled from his eyes. His pungent breath fanned her face. Mel stumbled back. Only the Lieutenant’s iron grip on her arm kept her from falling. As soon as she had her balance, he released her. Fast. As if just touching her would contaminate him. Humiliated, she tried to walk around the man in front of her.
“You think you’ll get away with this, don’t you? Like father, like daughter.” He sneered. “That poor girl’s dead, and you go free after just a few measly years inside. But you’ll never be free. We’re watching you. We won’t forget. You will pay the way you deserve, one way or another.”
Melanie’s stomach turned at the mention of her father and at the menace in the man’s tone.
“Move along, mister, or you’ll find yourself arrested for threatening her,” Lieutenant Tucker ordered.