by Sheila Kell
While his thoughts had drifted for a moment, Hart seemed entranced by her words. Maybe it was her beauty and her lovely voice. They’d be sure to snare anyone with a dick. She couldn’t help how exquisite of a package she was, but he wished her jeans and T-shirt were looser. He didn’t want another man, especially one who was flirting while asking questions, seeing her dressed like that.
Even though he imagined it to be tough, he’d keep his mouth shut until she received the money from this asshole. Internally he grinned; he’d let Devon do all the talking, just as soon as he could get the man’s name to his brother who was a magician with information. Maybe even sic Emily on his financials to wreak havoc. Okay, they didn’t do stuff like that for spite, but it felt good to toss the idea around in his mind.
First, he’d have to deal with a tirade that would surely come from Caitlyn when Hart left. Yep, he’d done it big time by saying she was his fiancée. Hell, at one time she was. And even though he’d been around her for a short period of time, he knew in his heart that if he could make it happen, she would be again.
AFTER SHE HAD waved goodbye to Tate Hart, Caitlyn started inside and seethed so badly she should have had steam streaming from her ears. She tightened her hands into fists. How dare Matt tell Tate he was her fiancée? She wondered if he still saw things that way. But he hadn’t said anything about their broken engagement before meeting her potential donor.
The other part of her knew he’d made it up to explain his presence in the meeting. But, engaged? Couldn’t he have thought up something better? Of course, she’d gone blank trying to explain him and the men. As had always been the case when they’d been younger, he rode his white stallion to her rescue. Still, couldn’t he have thought of something else? And, why hadn’t she argued it? To keep from looking the fool in Tate’s eyes. Or so she told herself.
Since she’d got a vibe from Tate she didn’t like, Matt’s lie worked in that sense. Mostly. Tate still had flirted with her, and she couldn’t figure out if that was his style or whether he was hitting on her. She didn’t care for either reason. Nothing in the rules said she had to like every donor.
She opened the door and walked into the building in the direction of her office with Matt hot on her heels.
“Look, Caitlyn,” he began, seeming to know the direction of her thoughts. “It was the first thing that came to my mind. I’m sorry. I should’ve prepared a credible story for any visitors.”
She rounded on him. “That was the first thing that came to your mind? How about something like being another donor, an employee, or even a friend? Any of those come to your mind?” She exhaled loudly, knowing she had to move on.
“You didn’t want to be alone with him. Did you?”
She laughed. “With a handsome man?” Laughing again when his shoulders straightened tight and heard his muttered curse, she answered his question, “I just don’t like being alone with someone I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s a trust thing.”
Fortunately, when she was alone with Matt, things were different. The ability to let down her shield existed. She still craved him despite fearing she’d never desire another man. While she wasn’t ready to jump into his arms and scream, “Make love to me,” something was still there between them. Something strong and loving.
Could she willingly go into his arms? If she did but then freaked out like she’d done on two separate dates, would Matt give up and leave her alone? He wasn’t pushing her, but each gaze and light touch was filled with longing. She wanted to reciprocate his affections, but she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready, and that disheartened her.
She’d forgiven him and apologized for what she’d said after the incident, and she held no ill will against him for it. He’d told her he’d never forgive himself. Maybe she could teach him about forgiveness and how freeing it was to let go.
He didn’t seem surprised by her answer about trust. Maybe he’d figured her all out again. That brought her up straight. Could he tell she had thoroughly enjoyed his touch and missed it when it had been absent? She hoped not. The embarrassment would be too much.
“Well, I’m your shadow now, so you won’t have to worry about being alone with scumbags like that.”
“He wasn’t a scumbag.” She had no idea why she felt she needed to come to Tate’s rescue even though she really didn’t like him. “He was a very nice man who’s going to give Helping Paws money. Money that the foundation needs.”
“Why didn’t he give it to you now?”
Midway through their discussion, Tate’s phone had rung, and he told them he needed to get back to— He never said where, and she didn’t ask where or why. She’d thought Matt had been about to do it, but she’d turned and implored with him in her gaze to let it go. Instead, they’d scheduled the tour for another day. That seemed just as important to Tate as did the company info. She’d come to find that some—a small portion of—rich people were funny about how they spent their money in relation to a charity. But when shopping, they didn’t seem to have a discerning bone in their bodies.
Caitlyn turned back toward her office. “He wants a full tour.”
“That shouldn’t take long. If he really wanted to do it, he’d have stayed.”
She whirled on him again and thrust her finger in his face. “Don’t you screw this up for me with your male macho bullshit. He isn’t the first donor who wants to talk with me and tour the facility first. I’m not one of the big charities like the Red Cross where everyone knows everything about them. I’m small potatoes, so we grab onto anything—and anyone—that might share our love for the program and shake out some cash for us.”
Seeming to understand, he sighed and gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I won’t stand in the way again. When he comes back, I’ll keep quiet.”
Caitlyn dropped her finger and turned back to the office. Keep quiet, my ass, she thought. At least maybe he wouldn’t be so hostile. She couldn’t afford to lose this donor. One million dollars could go a long way for them. She’d finally be able to expand and hire on more trainers and acquire more dogs, which would result in more potential clients getting the help they needed.
Following behind her, his question stopped her in her tracks. “Are you sure he’s got a million dollars to give you?”
No, she was never sure of a donation until the check cleared. She couldn’t be sure since she didn’t have any charitable donations information that he might’ve given or someone to acquire and check them. Her heart nearly sank. What if Tate didn’t have the money? Then why would he pull their chain like that? There were plenty of people who donated that she had no idea if they had that kind of free cash. People surprised her every day. Tate dressed and acted the part. He’d have no reason to be something he wasn’t. Still, she’d Google him when she had a free moment. She wouldn’t do it in front of Matt, because she didn’t want him to see that she’d been rattled by Tate and by Matt’s big lie.
“I can have Devon check him out.”
She whirled on him. “No,” she said sharply. “You’re here because of Luke. You aren’t here to intrude upon my business.” That was a stupid thing to say. Based on their bragging of Devon’s skills, she could use his help. No. She’d try first, and if she wasn’t satisfied, she’d ask for help.
Holding his hands up in a surrender pose, he cracked a smile. “You’d best tell your staff that you’re off the market so when he returns, they won’t say something wrong to deter his trust in you.”
Dammit if he wasn’t right. If Matt was still around, she couldn’t think of a good way to explain his presence or the lie. “We’ll only pretend to be engaged when he’s here.” She looked deep into his eyes and couldn’t get a read on the emotion flowing through his gaze. It warmed her though.
He closed the short distance between them and pulled her close. She stiffened like a board but wasn’t afraid of what he would do to her. Her pulse raced at the contact.
“You’re mine,” he growled before his lips landed
on hers, soft and teasing.
When her lips began to move—against her better judgment—she melted into his embrace. His tongue pushed past her lips and entered her mouth, sending a bolt of lust flashing through her body. Good God. What the hell was wrong with her kissing him like this? She didn’t want something between them. Yet, she couldn’t stop her own body from responding.
And with their bodies melded into each other, she felt his growing erection and jumped back as if she’d been burned. “No,” was all she could force out. She trembled at what could’ve happened.
Matt uttered an apology, then turned on his heel and left her.
Her eyes watered and she wiped at them with the back of her hand. She had no reason to cry but felt the overwhelming need to do so. Staunching it, she entered her office and sat down behind the desk. She picked up the select list that Tonya recommended they invite to the small fundraiser and got to work reviewing the names and their past donations to make sure they might be willing to donate again.
The million dollars from Tate would go a long way, but she wouldn’t refuse money where she could get it.
Still reeling from Matt’s kiss, she hopped from her chair and strode down the hallway and into the training area. Some time with one of the young dogs would be good for her soul. Because Lord knew Matt Hamilton was once right for her soul, and she feared he might be again.
THE SHOWER HAD been great to revive him. He hated the heat and humidity of the south and had struggled with it while in college. It didn’t seem as bad as his memory though, but still, he just preferred cold and snow. Something they got very little of down here.
He slipped into jeans and then put the earpiece in so he wouldn’t be taken by surprise again. Before he could put on his shirt, he stiffened when he heard, “We’ve got a problem.”
Neftali, their strongest sharpshooter—well, second to Jesse—spoke softly as if his voice would carry across any distance outside and give away his location.
“To the east, we’ve got someone who thinks himself a sniper. That’s a pretty decent distance he’d made it to without us seeing him. I’d say he’s close to three hundred yards out and just briefly poked his head out of the edge of the woods.” He paused. “He’s trouble, because I’ve got trees in the way and can’t get a shot off. Give me a minute to move, and get Caitlyn the hell away from that damn window.”
Heart pounding, Matt rushed from the bathroom, not sure which window Neftali meant. He found her in the living room and launched himself over the couch, heard the rifle fire and subsequent sound of a glass breaking as he dragged her down to the floor, not very gently.
Frantic, he lifted himself as best he could and ran his hands over her body, checking everywhere for an injury. “Are you hit? Are you hit?” he repeated.
“Was that what I thought it was?” Her breathing was erratic and her eyes wide with fear.
“Yes.”
She began to shake, so he leaned back and pulled her into his arms. He’d love to sit up and pull her into his lap, but there was still a shooter out there.
“How did he find me?” she whispered shakily.
“I don’t know, but he wants us to take him seriously.” In his mind, he couldn’t see Ripley as a sniper wannabe. Something didn’t feel right.
“Status,” he called out but realized he’d come out of the bathroom sans microphone and sans shirt. “Shit.”
When he didn’t hear another shot fired—Neftali’s shot—concern crept into his bloodstream. Son of a bitch. The shooter would’ve hit her had he not put his earpiece in when he had and acted. There was just too much area out there for two men to cover. Usually two could work it fine, but not when woods on three sides was a player.
“Ken’s got him,” Neftali stated, and the rapid staccato of his pulse settled until he added, “It’s not Ripley.”
Fuck! Had Ripley hired someone to kill her? He couldn’t think about this threat to her life without wanting to choke someone.
Matt and Caitlyn moved away from the window. Sitting awkwardly, he double-checked her for injuries. He’d figure out getting up without her noticing his difficulty in moving to a standing position.
“Oh my God. Matt, you’ve been shot!” She pointed to his lower leg.
Seeing the bullet hole in his jeans but knowing it went straight through the material, he said, “I’m fine. It missed me.”
But Caitlyn wasn’t having any of it. Despite his fighting her off, she groped at the hem on his jeans and pulled the pant leg up a little then stopped and gasped. Her eyes searched his. “Matt?”
He sighed. He’d hoped they’d have this conversation much later after she became more comfortable with him. Wanting to cover himself, he reached for his pants leg and removed it from her hands before sliding it back down. “There’s nothing to it. I lost part of my leg while on active duty.”
Wide-eyed, she asked, “What happened?”
After almost being shot, she worried about him. Him—not the fact someone just tried to kill her. Maybe it hadn’t sunk in yet, and she was diverting the conversation so she didn’t have to deal with reality. Yet his life as an amputee was about as big a fucking reality as it got.
“Let’s talk about it another time. We have a situation here that needs our focus.” He stood, no longer caring how awkward he’d looked standing up, and held a hand down to her to assist her in standing. She swayed a second and his arms shot out to her waist to steady her.
A knock sounded on the door, and he told her to stay back while he checked the peephole. Seeing it was Ken with a pissed off man decked out in camouflage, he opened the door.
Ken shoved the man into the room toward Matt and away from Caitlyn. Their unwelcome visitor had his hands secured behind his back. “Does he look familiar?” Ken asked Caitlyn.
Please, God, don’t let it be tied to Ripley. He wanted to eradicate the man but didn’t want her suffering in the meantime.
She gasped and put her hands on her mouth. “Neil Holbrook.”
Neil narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t speak.
“Do you want to call 911 or take care of him ourselves?” Ken asked Matt, probably in an effort to put fear into Neil at what “take care of him ourselves” actually meant.
What he wanted to do was rip the asshole to shreds, but he wouldn’t be any good to Caitlyn if he were in jail. He needed to know more before they progressed. “Who is Neil Holbrook?”
Seeming to gather her courage, she stood confident, not fearful like she’d been when she’d first seen the man. She almost appeared… angry. He’d prefer that emotion to fear, but now he really had to know what this asshole had done.
“He applied to the program, but I denied his application.”
“You had no right, bitch,” spewed from Neil’s mouth.
Matt’s automatic reflex was to deck the man, and it felt good watching Neil’s head snap back. He wouldn’t even give the man the satisfaction of watching him shake off the pain in his knuckles. Caitlyn opened her mouth to speak, her face red, but Matt was faster. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Fuck you,” Neil said to Matt.
Unperturbed by the statement, Matt turned to Ken and nodded. The team leader, toting his firearms and Neil’s, walked away and put the phone to his ear to speak with an operator at 911. Since this obviously had nothing to do with Ripley, they’d turn it over to local law enforcement. But they would keep an ear to the ground on what happened with Holbrook. The man proved himself resourceful to sneak through their net. The net he’d decided earlier wasn’t large enough. Case in point. But the only extra men available were protecting Adam in case Ripley came back for more. He couldn’t pull them from her father, not after what Ripley had done to Adam already.
Thank God Neftali had spotted him through his scope. All decked out in camo in the late evening, he’d have been hard to find. Pity Neftali hadn’t had a clean shot, then the events wouldn’t have unfolded as they had. And while insignificant to everything happening
around them, he hadn’t wanted her to discover his injury. Oh, she’d probably want to talk about it, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. He hoped she didn’t think him weak because of it. He’d worked hard in physical therapy when he’d acquired his prosthetic. It was a part of him now, and that would be hard to explain since many people throw out the term disabled right off the bat. Somehow, he doubted she would, but he didn’t have practice discussing his injury.
Ken turned back to them. “They’re on their way.” He raised his eyebrows at Matt as if just noticing something. “You might want to put on a shirt or something.”
He’d forgotten that he’d rushed from the bathroom without a shirt. With the way Caitlyn was looking him up and down, she seemed to just realize it also. Her gaze also stopped on his tattoo.
Matt guided Neil to the couch and shoved him down. “Ken, I’m going to finish getting dressed. You’ve got him.” He grabbed Caitlyn’s arm. “You’re coming with me.”
She huffed. “No, I’m not.” Jerking her arm, she tried to wrench it free from his grasp.
“Yes, you are. I’m not leaving you out here with our unwelcome guest.”
“I am not going to the bathroom with you while you dress.”
“Good grief. It’s just a shirt. Quit protesting and come on.” Why the hell was she fighting him? It wasn’t like he was dragging her to her doom.
When Neil expelled some expletives her way, she changed her mind and followed him. Entering the small bathroom, she handed him his shirt from off the commode and then scooted as far away from him as possible.
Her fragrance drifted to him, and he smiled to know she still wore Happy by Clinique. One day, in college, they’d laughingly gone down the perfume aisle at a department store where she’d allowed the women who worked there to test different fragrances on her. When she’d come to this one, she’d fallen in love with it. And when he’d got a whiff, so had he. He’d purchased a large bottle of it on the spot. Over the years, he’d sometimes go to the Clinique counter and smell the fragrance to remember her. It was sad, but it’d make him smile at the good memories they had.