Seduced in Secret

by Shiloh Walker

  For a long moment, he said nothing. He didn’t even look at her.

  When he did, he said quietly, “We need to talk.”

  “That’s what I just said.”

  He shook his head.

  He glanced down and she saw that he was holding his phone.

  She frowned. “Is everything okay? I…shit, I’ve had my phone off. Is…it’s not your mom, is it?”

  She spun on her heel and ran into the living room, grabbing her purse and dumping it out. The phone was the last thing to come out.

  But before she could turn it on, Caleb reached over her shoulder and took it.

  She swiped at it, but he held it out of her reach.

  “My mom is fine, baby,” he said.

  But he wouldn’t look at her. His eyes glanced over her face and then away. Back to her face, then away.

  “Caleb, give me my phone,” she said, trembling deep inside. “You…shit, you didn’t go and beat up Tyson or something stupid, did you?”

  He stared up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “No. I’ve thought about it. Quite a few times, if I had to tell you the truth.”

  “Why?” She gaped at him.

  Now he looked at her, pinned her with a hard, level stare. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  He looked down at the phones he held and then tossed her hers. He shoved his into his back pocket and looped his hands behind his neck. “You know, I can’t recall a time when I didn’t love you. Can’t recall a time when my world didn’t revolve around you. Even when I was in the Navy, all of it was about making myself into the kind of man I thought you’d be proud of.”

  Dazed, she sank down onto her butt, drawing her knees to her chest. “What…Caleb, what are you talking about?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you?” He shrugged. “I’m in love with you. I always had a thing for you, but I can tell you exactly when I knew I loved you. It was tenth grade. That dickhead Price Green was picking on the girl with Down’s Syndrome and you punched him in the nose. I knew then that I loved you. But you…” He smiled and it was sad. “You never saw.”

  Tessa sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I tried.” He hitched up a shoulder. “The dance that weekend? I asked you to go with me. You told me that the girl he’d been picking on? Angie. You said she had a crush on me and it would make her day if I asked her. So I did. For you.”

  He sighed and turned away. “You need to turn on your phone. You’ve got a message. You’re going to be pissed off at me here in a minute. But…” His voice went raw and ragged. “Fuck, Tessa. You were going to marry that bastard, and he didn’t love you. You weren’t listening to me and you didn’t ever see me. So…I…hell. I had to find another way to make you see.”

  Confused, hurting all over again, she turned her phone on.

  She heard him go out the front door.

  The message bubble on her phone made her groan.

  She didn’t want to deal with him now.

  But…

  She frowned.

  Her phone had been off.

  The only messages were from him.

  She tapped on them and they all came up. She reach one, getting more confused.

  Then her gaze landed on the fifth—and last one.

  It’s me, Caleb.

  It had to be a mistake.

  She read the message. Five times. Each time, she told herself it had to be a mistake.

  But it wasn’t.

  They all came from the same number. A number that wasn’t his.

  A hysterical laugh escaped her and she clamped her hand over her lips to stifle it. Really, how hard would it be for a guy like Caleb to make it seem like texts were coming from a different phone number?

  Surging to her feet, she spun and threw the phone.

  It hit the wall and then crashed to the floor.

  She didn’t bother to see if it had broken.

  She was already out the front door.

  He was standing on the porch, hands in his pockets, staring outside.

  “You lied to me!”

  He turned his head, watching as she came striding toward him.

  She jabbed him in the chest with a nail painted the color of plums.

  “I did.” He shrugged and went back to staring out over the yard.

  “You…” She stopped and then started again. “Aren’t you going to say anything else?”

  “What do you want me to say?” He pretended to debate. “I guess I could lie and say I’m sorry. But I would be lying. If I’d done nothing, you’d still be puttering along, letting that jackass make plans for a wedding you’d hate, letting him criticize a dress you loved, letting him plan a honeymoon you didn’t want…you were already miserable, Tessa, but you didn’t hear anybody when they tried to tell you!”

  “It was my mistake to make!”

  She jutted her chin up as she yelled at him.

  He bent his head and shoved his face into hers. “But I loved you too much to see you miserable. You want to hate me for that? Go ahead. Never talk to me again. I’ll deal. But at least you’re happy now.”

  He went to turn away.

  She caught his arm.

  “So it was all just to stop me from marrying Tyson? You didn’t…” She faltered.

  He cut off the rest of her words with his mouth.

  Backing her up to the wall, he trapped her there, between his body and the wood. The muscles in his leg were already knotted up, but he ignored them, focused instead on the softness of her and bringing a moan to her lips. “Does this feel like it has anything to do with that uptight doctor, baby?”

  She moaned.

  “Caleb…”

  “I told you already. I’ve loved you since we were kids. Nothing’s ever going to change that.” He skimmed his hand along her side, cupped her hip. “I’ll love you tomorrow and I’ll love you in fifty years. You can walk down those steps, drive away from me, fall in love with some guy you meet at the gas station and get married, have his kids…and never see me again. And I’ll still love you. So no. It wasn’t all just to stop you from marrying the limpdick.”

  “I made love to you because I’ve wanted it for longer than you can imagine.” He breathed it against her skin, felt her shudder. “I kissed you because I’ve gone insane wondering how you’d taste. I asked you to go out with me because I’d hoped you’d finally look at me and see the man who loved you…not just your buddy across the street.”

  He gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

  And then he moved away.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. But if I had to do it over again…” He shrugged. He took a step, grimaced as his thigh sent pain screaming through him. But he bore down and ignored it. “I’m going grab my stuff, then head out. You need time to think.”

  ∞

  He was halfway inside before she spoke.

  “No.”

  She was acting on instinct here and she knew it.

  But she wasn’t going to go back on the promise she’d made herself last night.

  Okay, so the two men who drove her to distraction were one and the same. She could…adjust to that, right?

  Caleb stilled in the doorway.

  “Aren’t you going to look at me?”

  Stiffly, he turned. She frowned as he reached out, braced his weight on the door. Her gaze drifted down to his leg and he stiffened, his face going cold. So she didn’t ask. Instead, she moved toward him. “No. I don’t need to think. I did that.”

  Reaching up, she cupped his face. She blew out a sigh and then leaned in, pressed a kiss to his mouth.

  “I did think, Caleb. I did a lot of thinking. Most of it was last night and most of it was under the influence, but I figured something out.” Pressing her brow to his, she said, “There’s only ever been one constant in my life, one person I always looked for, one person I always needed. One person I always thought to call, whether things were good or bad…or just plain boring. It’s always been you, Caleb. I feel like I’
ve spent most of my life waiting for something…but it was you all along. That’s what I figured out last night. So I don’t need to think anymore.”

  She cupped his face in her hands. “Maybe it took me a while, Caleb. But I see you now…please don’t go.”

  Don’t Walk Away

  Bonus Story – From the Mammoth Book of Romantic Suspense

  Chapter One

  The woman he loved held a knife at his throat.

  He was on his knees, on a filthy street and she stood behind him. Close. So close he could smell her skin. So close he could reach out and touch her…finally. After all of this time…

  He could still remember how she had felt in his arms, how she had felt against him, under him. Damn, he’d loved her—loved her still. Wanted her still. Would have given anything to pull her into his arms.

  Except there was the small matter of the knife in her hand. And he suspected she probably hated his guts. Somehow, he doubted the knife was her way of telling him how much she missed him.

  He wanted to see her. But he held still. Her hand was shaking. He could feel it, feel the sharp edge of the blade pressing into his skin. If he moved too quick, she just might lay his neck wide open.

  “Fucking bastard.” It was the first thing she’d said since she’d come up behind him. It was dim in the narrow alley tucked between two low, squat buildings, Ethan Raintree had no trouble recognizing her voice.

  “Hello, Celeste.”

  ∞

  Hello, Celeste, he says.

  She glared at the back of his head, hardly able to believe her ears. Her hand was shaking and she could hardly breathe. This wasn’t happening.

  Hello, Celeste.

  Ethan.

  Ethan Raintree was here. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Couldn’t be happening, because if it was…

  No.

  Her throat burned, ached, and her heart raced. Her hands were sweating and the one holding the knife was shaking something awful. She needed to move. Or say something. Do something.

  Oh, shit. This was happening, wasn’t it?

  He was here. In Belle, Texas. Why?

  She’d only know the answer to that, though, if she actually asked him. Does it matter?

  Yes, she realized, it did. If she wanted those answers, she had to say something. Except she didn’t know what.

  ∞

  “Bastard.”

  “You already said that. Are we going to stay like this all night or are you going to use that knife?” Ethan asked. Part of him wondered if she could.

  “Don’t tempt me,” she whispered. There was an underlying thread of steel in her voice. His heart broke a little at the sound. She’d been so soft once, so untouched. No more. The ugliness of his world had bled over into hers.

  Yes. She could use the knife. He hated that he might be responsible for that. But would she? Ethan didn’t know. In that moment, he didn’t know if he’d even stop her.

  Tense moments passed but eventually, she lowered the knife and backed away.

  Slowly, Ethan came to his feet and turned to face her. The sight of her now did the same thing to him as it had the first time he’d seen her—it was a punch straight to his heart, straight to his soul…and even as he wanted to cuddle her close, protect her from the entire world, all the blood drained straight from his brain down to his cock and he wanted to take her, mark her, brand her…claim her.

  She’d caused that reaction then; she caused it again now.

  He still wanted her. He still loved her. Ethan imagined he’d go to his grave loving her. Wanting her.

  Nearly eleven years had passed since he had first met her. Ten years since he had walked away. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he hadn’t had much choice. After he’d destroyed her life, leaving her alone was the least he could have done.

  A decade…she’d changed.

  He had as well, in some ways. But he still loved her. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here, on this day, in this sad, run-down excuse for a town—Belle, Texas.

  Belle was French for beautiful, but the town was anything but. Small and bedraggled, it was ugly as sin, poor as dirt and still struggling to catch up to the current century. But Ethan wasn’t here for the ambience. He was here because he’d known she’d be, too.

  It was the anniversary of the day her grandmother had died. Every year on the second day of July, like clockwork, Celeste traveled to Belle to visit her grandmother’s grave.

  Ethan knew. Every year for the past nine years, he’d been here on this day if at all possible. Before he had left the Army, he’d missed the date twice. During the five years since then, he hadn’t missed it once.

  Up until now, she hadn’t ever seen him.

  Judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t overly pleased about running into him. What in the hell was I thinking? he wondered.

  She’d been leaving the small diner at the center of town and when she’d glanced his way, instead of melting back into the crowd, he’d lingered, just long enough for her to see him. He wasn’t sure if he was surprised she’d come after him or not, although he had been when she’d taken his feet out from under him a few minutes ago. He might have asked about that, if she hadn’t looked at him with such venom in her eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded, glaring at him. Anger flashed in the depths of her dark eyes.

  Ethan jerked a shoulder in a restless shrug, uncertain how to answer. Did he tell her it was because he’d known she’d be there? That he’d come so he could see her, for just a few seconds? And he’d been doing it for years?

  Stalker, much?

  Celeste narrowed her eyes and said, “You know, I’m pretty sure the Army Rangers aren’t in big demand around these parts. So what in the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m not with the Army anymore,” he said.

  She blinked, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she looked a little caught off-guard. She recovered quickly though and gave him a cocky smirk. “Well, that would explain how you ended up on your knees in an alley, I guess. You getting rusty, Ethan? Letting somebody like me sneak up on you?”

  “I heard you behind me.” And if he’d turned around just five seconds earlier, she wouldn’t have taken him out like that. He hadn’t because he’d needed a few moments to level out. By the time he’d thought he could look at her without letting her see his every emotion written on his face, she’d already got the jump on him.

  “Bully for you.” Her grin took on a mean slant and she said, “So did you let me put you down? If so, why don’t we do it again? Maybe after a few dozen repeats, I’ll feel better.”

  If he believed that, he just might have let her. He stared at her, hungry for the sight of her, and so much more. He wanted to feel those long, slender fingers running through his hair, curling around the back of his neck and stroking his skin as he kissed her. Then he wanted to wrap the dark wealth of her hair around his wrist, tug her head back and stare at her, just stare at her for a long, long while before he stripped her naked.

  Then he’d make love to her, long and slow. Or maybe fast and hard, first. It had been so damn long—

  Focus, Ethan. Focus!

  Celeste stared at him, her eyes dark and guarded. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said quietly, shaking her head.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you used to look at me. Like you thought I hung the moon and the stars.”

  “I did.” They hadn’t had much time together during their relationship, only stolen moments when he could get away for a day or two, and one memorable trip to Cancun when he had been on leave. That was right before it all fell apart. Right before he found out who she was.

  Celeste Harper was a bit of a pampered princess.

  He’d always known that, from the first time she’d walked into a nameless bar in the depths of Mexico City—a place she never should have gone. She’d gone out slumming, he supposed. When Celeste decided to do something, she did it right. She’d gone
into that bar with her bodyguards, unconcerned with their disapproving looks and she’d sat right down, ordered herself a margarita.

  Not too many men had dared approached, not with the bodyguards standing so close. Ethan, had he been wise, would have steered clear of her, too. If he’d been the smart guy he was supposed to be, he would have known she was trouble—a princess didn’t belong in a seedy little hell hole like that, especially one who wore a white silk dress that cost more than most people made in a month.

  Hell, in Mexico, that dress probably cost more than most people made in a year.

  She’d had two shadows at her back, but paid them so little attention Ethan had decided she was used to having silent bodyguards.

  The bodyguards—shit. Even if he had been too dazed by Celeste, he should have taken a look at the two of them and run in the other direction. But he had glanced over and figured he knew why she had them. Princesses didn’t leave their castles without a couple of knights to watch over them. Instead, he had looked, wanted…taken. It wasn’t until much later that he realized who she was.

  “Celeste Harper” was actually “Celeste Harper Jeffers,” the only daughter on Paul Jeffers. Although Ethan didn’t personally know the man, he’d heard of him; a drug lord whose specialty lay in creating derivatives of the date-rape drug, rohypnol.

  Celeste had no idea about this.

  Until Ethan had told her.

  ∞

  He shouldn’t still look that perfect, Celeste thought, more than a little disgusted at the way her body was reacting to him. It was like she was twenty-two all over again—that naïve little fool—and caught up in his spell.

  “You never thought I hung the moon and stars,” she said, keeping her voice low and level when all she wanted to do was scream.

  Lids lowered over his disconcertingly pale eyes, shielding them from her. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t a surprise. Ethan had never been one for explaining himself, or trying to convince people to listen. He said what he needed to and if people listened, fine. If not, he didn’t give a damn.