Secrets

by Cynthia Eden

  She simply wanted him.

  He was a weakness that could prove lethal for her.

  “You came to me last night...”

  She hadn’t been able to stay away.

  “You will come to me again, and when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

  She looked into his eyes, and saw the sensual promise there.

  Definitely lethal.

  She started to close the door, but his hand flew up, and his fingers curled around the side of the door frame, halting her movement.

  “One more thing...”

  “Brodie?” Something in his expression put her on guard.

  “I want you like hell on fire. We need to both be clear about that. I look at you, and I need. I want.”

  Her breath came faster.

  “But I can also tell you’re keeping secrets.”

  Secrets were her life.

  His head cocked as he studied her. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Jennifer?”

  She had, and she would again. There were some things that she would never be cleared to tell him. “Why would you ask me that?” He’d gone from making her heart race with desire to making her tremble in fear. She didn’t want him getting too close to the truth about her.

  She feared if he found out the truth, Brodie would turn her away. Jennifer couldn’t let that happen because he was her last hope.

  “I’m starting to realize there’s a lot more to you than just meets the eye.” He studied her with an assessing stare. “You need to tell me your secrets.”

  She shook her head but then caught herself.

  Brodie’s suspicious gaze said he’d caught the telling movement. “You will tell me, or I’ll discover them on my own.”

  He let the door shut and she heard his footsteps march away.

  * * *

  “YOU’VE BEEN HOLDING out on me,” Davis accused him.

  Brodie lifted his brows as he entered the kitchen. He wasn’t the one holding back. That’s Jennifer.

  “Now that I’m not running on fumes, want to tell me the real story about the looker staying at our ranch? You know, the woman with a body to beg for and near-ninja skills?”

  Brodie downed a cup of coffee. “Her name’s Jennifer Wesley, and you need to keep your damn eyes off her body.”

  Davis narrowed the eyes in question. “Why is her name familiar? I swear I’ve heard it before.”

  That was a fairly easy question to answer. “Because her father used to be an oil magnate, before his company went broke and he decided it was better to die at sea than to face his creditors.” He’d been digging into her past that morning. After she’d left him, sleep sure hadn’t come again, so he’d spent more time on his computer.

  Davis exhaled on a long sigh. “The guy just left his daughter to face all that alone?”

  “From all accounts, yes.”

  Davis rubbed a hand over his jaw. “And where do you fit into the picture that is Ms. Wesley? Because I might’ve been tired, but I saw the way you looked at her last night.”

  “Just how did I look at her?” And if he brought up that crap about wanting to devour Jennifer—

  Well, Davis would be right.

  “Like a lover. Like she was your lover.”

  She was. Brodie glanced over his shoulder, toward the doorway. Jennifer wasn’t heading toward them, not yet. “She’s our client, that’s what we need to focus on now.”

  “But before she was a client? I mean, just how did the lovely Ms. Wesley know about our security services?”

  She knew because she’d tracked him down. His fingers tightened around his coffee mug. “I was on a rescue mission once... A wealthy American’s daughter had been taken hostage in the Middle East. My job was to get her out alive. I did.” He kept the details of that time as brief and emotionless as could be. Davis would understand exactly what he was saying and what he wasn’t.

  “You saved her once, so she came to you for help again?”

  Something like that. Brodie put down the coffee mug.

  The floor creaked. He glanced back at the doorway once more and saw Jennifer standing there, her hair still wet, her face free of makeup. And she was so beautiful. He actually found himself taking a step toward her before he forced his body to be still.

  “I think I’m bigger than your sister.” She glanced down at her body. The tight jeans fit her like a perfect glove.

  “Looks good to me,” Davis muttered as he came to Brodie’s side.

  Brodie elbowed the guy. He’d warned Davis about keeping his eyes off Jennifer’s body.

  Jennifer nibbled on her lower lip. “Are you sure she won’t mind me using her clothes?”

  It was Davis who replied. “Ava doesn’t come here.” He glanced around the room. “She can’t see any good memories here anymore. Only death.”

  Sadness flashed across Jennifer’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  So was he. While he’d been halfway across the world, his parents had been slaughtered, and he still didn’t know why. But after years of dead-end leads, they’d finally recovered some solid evidence recently. They’d found the guns that had been used to kill his parents. The guns had been hidden inside an abandoned cabin, an old cabin that bordered their ranch’s property.

  “What’s the plan for today?” Jennifer glanced, rather nervously, toward the window. “As much as I’d like to keep hiding here, that’s not an option that will last forever.”

  No, it wasn’t.

  “If he doesn’t already know I’m here, he will soon. He followed me from New Orleans. He found my hotel room.” She swallowed. “He’ll find me here, too, and I don’t want that threat coming down on you and your family. You’ve already suffered enough.”

  “I read the reports from the NOPD.”

  Her eyelashes flickered a bit.

  “You fought off the man who attacked you in that alley. According to the police, you said that you broke his nose and were able to escape from him.”

  Her shoulders moved in a slight shrug. “I told them I thought I’d broken his nose. I mean, it sounded like those bones crunched.”

  His brows rose. “And when the fire started, sweetheart, you failed to mention that you were in your house.” That detail had enraged him. He kept picturing flames rushing toward her delicate skin. “You climbed out a second-story window and scaled down the side of your house in order to escape.”

  Davis whistled. “Nice.”

  “No,” she said softly. “It was actually rather terrifying. The trellis I used to climb down was old and it was breaking beneath me. Crumbling with every move I made. I was afraid it wouldn’t last long enough for me to reach safety.”

  His eyes closed. Too close.

  “I don’t understand what’s happening here,” Jennifer said, anger roughening her words. “I mean, are you grilling me because I’ve managed to survive for so long? Was I supposed to let the guy kill me?”

  No. His eyes opened. “The arson was deliberately set—judging by the report, a professional was at work.” A guy who’d known exactly how to set a fire for ultimate destruction capabilities. “And the attack in the alley? That was an isolated spot, a timed attack.” Something that was nagging at him... “The guy stabbed you in the side and managed not to even hit one major organ.”

  “Lucky for me,” she murmured.

  His gut told him something more sinister. “Maybe it was lucky because the man knew exactly what he was doing.”

  Silence.

  Maybe he wanted to hurt you, but not kill you. Not then. Had the guy been just playing with her in that alley?

  Davis glanced between them. “You think some kind of hired killer has targeted her? Why would someone like that be after a society girl?”

  She shuddered.

  “Why indeed?” Brodie murmured. Because now that he’d learned more details about the attacks, he was sure thinking the stalker wasn’t some ex-lover who’d been scorned. Maybe Jennifer had been right to deny that claim. When he’d seen the arson r
eports, his suspicions had sharpened. This wasn’t some enraged maniac coming after her.

  They were looking at a controlled, organized killer. But why was that killer after Jennifer?

  “If you aren’t honest with me,” Brodie told her flatly, “then we’re going to have a problem.” He couldn’t work in the dark.

  She backed up a step.

  “What does the man after you know?” He couldn’t forget that photo and those two words that had been written across it.

  “I have no idea.” Her voice was wooden.

  He hated having to interrogate her. She’d come to him for help, so why was she holding back? Why was she making him push her? “The picture was taken at the Saint Louis Cathedral in New Orleans.” He’d recognized the spot because he’d handled a few cases in the Big Easy. “What were you doing when that picture was taken?”

  “I was...just going for a walk.”

  Lie.

  His stare cut to Davis. His brother’s expression had tightened.

  “We can’t help you—” Brodie forced the words between his teeth “—if we don’t know what we’re up against.”

  Her gaze fell to the floor. “You didn’t know what you were up against in the Middle East. When you rushed in to save me, you had no clue how many men would be holding me. You came inside anyway.”

  Because that had been the mission. Save her, at all costs. And he had thought that he’d known what he was facing. Too late, he’d learned their intel was wrong. “Jennifer—”

  His phone started to ring. Brodie yanked it out of his back pocket, then frowned when he stared down at the screen. He didn’t recognize that number. He was tempted to ignore the call, but...

  It could be another client—someone in a desperate situation who needed him.

  And Jennifer was filling a plate with eggs, giving him her back.

  Huffing out a breath, he answered the call. “McGuire.”

  “She’s lying to you.” The voice was a low whisper. “Don’t believe the things that she says.”

  “Who the hell is this?”

  “Her father didn’t commit suicide and it was no boating accident...”

  His attention was locked on Jennifer’s back.

  “She killed him.”

  Jennifer?

  “She’s using you. Setting you up.”

  Brodie unclenched his jaw to say, “I’m coming after you.” He knew he was talking to Jennifer’s stalker. “I’m going to find you, and I’m going to make sure you get locked in a cage.”

  Jennifer whirled toward him, her eyes wide.

  “Why don’t you ask sweet Jennifer what she knows about the murder of your parents? Why she knows her way around your ranch so well?”

  “Look, you son of a—”

  The line went dead.

  “Brodie?” Jennifer put down her plate and crept toward him.

  He immediately tried to do a redial on the jerk. But the phone rang and rang. Hell, no. So Brodie tried another option. He got his brother Mac on the line. Mackenzie “Mac” McGuire had connections that they could use. “Mac, listen—no, damn it, I don’t care if you’re half awake. I need you to run a trace on a telephone number.” He rattled off the number. “I have to know who this guy is, and I need to know now.”

  He hung up the phone. The fury rushing through him was so great that his hands were shaking, and he balled them into fists. That fool had brought up his family. His family.

  “That was him?” Jennifer asked, and her hand touched his shoulder. “He called you?”

  Brodie gave a curt nod. “He’s trying to turn me against you.” Like he didn’t recognize the oldest trick in the book. He recognized it all right, and it infuriated him. “Giving me some bull about you killing your father—”

  Her gaze cut away from his.

  “And you knowing intel about my parents’ death.” Of course, she didn’t know anything. Why would a society girl from Louisiana know about the murder of two Texas ranchers?

  Davis stalked toward them. “He said that crap to you?”

  Brodie’s stare was on Jennifer. She’d paled. And she wasn’t meeting his stare.

  “Jennifer...he was lying, wasn’t he?” Brodie demanded.

  His phone rang then, but this time he recognized Mac’s number. He put the phone to his ear. “Tell me you found out who—”

  “The phone belongs to a Jennifer Wesley,” Mac said. “You know who that is?”

  He was staring right at her. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Don’t ask about the strings I pulled—”

  He tried never to ask.

  “But I got a buddy to try and locate that phone. I figured it had to be working since you called and woke me up at helluva-too-early o’clock.”

  Despite the tense situation, Brodie’s lips almost twitched.

  “He triangulated the signal, and the caller is close.”

  “How close?”

  “Within ten miles of the ranch.”

  He followed us.

  “Do you need me?” Mac demanded. “Because I can be on my way in two minutes.”

  “I got this.” He wasn’t about to let the stalker play his games, not on Brodie’s home turf. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime...”

  He pushed the phone back into his pocket. Jennifer was watching him with wide eyes. “When you escaped that fire, did you leave your phone behind?” Brodie asked.

  She nodded.

  “He’s got it.” He marched for the door. “And the guy is out there right now, playing with us.” He planned to find the man. The stalker would have taken to shelter, trying to stay hidden as he attempted to monitor what was happening at the ranch. “Stay here,” he threw over his shoulder as he hurried out. “I’m taking him down.”

  He left the main ranch house and headed for the stables. If the stalker was watching the main road that led to the ranch, then Brodie sure didn’t want to advertise his presence as he hunted. And the best way to do that?

  Sneak up on the guy. He went into the stables and started saddling his horse.

  When he heard the tap of soft footsteps behind him, Brodie whirled around and found Jennifer standing just a few feet away.

  “You’re going after him?” she asked.

  He grabbed the reins for his horse. “Damn straight.”

  She crossed to him. “He’s that close? You’re sure?”

  Close enough to watch them, but the stalker hadn’t set off any of the alarms that protected the perimeter of the ranch. Not yet. “He won’t see me coming,” Brodie assured her. That was why he planned to take his horse. The guy would be looking for a car, not a rider on horseback. “Not until it’s too late.”

  Her gaze slid over the row of stalls in the stables. “I’m coming with you.”

  The hell she was. “Stay with Davis. He’ll keep you safe.”

  She was already marching toward the nearest stall. “This man has been terrorizing me for months. I’m not just going to stand back while you go after him by yourself. I won’t risk you just to save myself.”

  What—she was his backup? “Can you even ride a horse?” He blurted the question out before he had the sense to stop himself.

  Her head jerked toward him. Her eyes became angry slits. “Betting I ride better than you, cowboy.” Her voice had turned arctic. He watched as she expertly saddled her horse and then leaped into the saddle.

  Well, well. Wasn’t she full of surprises? “My mistake,” he muttered.

  Her father didn’t commit suicide...and it was no boating accident...

  She killed him.

  “Brodie?”

  He checked his weapon. If he had her close, then he could be sure Jennifer was safe at every moment. “Stay behind me the whole time, understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go get him.”

  * * *

  AS THEY NEARED the northwest side of his property, Brodie slowed his horse. He wanted to go in softly as he approached his prey. Lifting his rig
ht hand, he signaled to Jennifer that they needed to be careful.

  If Brodie were going to hide out and watch the ranch, if he were looking for a perfect vantage point that would provide him protection from prying eyes, he would pick the spot about twenty feet to the right. It was the spot that a trained hunter would choose, a man used to stalking prey.

  That’s why I’m out here. I think that SOB is too much like me.

  Not just your average perp, but a man who knew far too much about hunting human prey...and killing.

  Brodie tied his horse to a tree and watched Jennifer do the same. As they crept toward the fence, he pulled out his phone. He knew this particular area always had good cell reception—and he’d been counting on that for his plan. There had been a reason why he left Davis behind—and that reason wasn’t just because his brother hated riding horses. “Cut the security system,” he told Davis when his brother answered. “Give me ten seconds.” Because he had to get past the fence and he didn’t want any alarms announcing his intentions.

  “Start counting,” Brodie told him.

  Ten, nine...

  Brodie grabbed Jennifer’s hand, and they cleared the area. Then Brodie kept them in the trees as much as he could as they advanced. One step, two and—

  He saw the edge of a long black car. The Mustang that had tried to run them over the night before.

  Got you. A cold smile curled Brodie’s lips as he advanced. The stalker had cut across the property located immediately next to the ranch. His car was there, half-concealed in the shadow of the trees. Brodie approached the car cautiously. He searched the scene, but he didn’t see any sign of the person who’d made the call to him.

  Jennifer’s steps were silent behind him.

  He peered through the car’s window and saw a phone on the seat. A phone and a manila envelope. Brodie’s name was scrawled on that envelope.

  You knew I’d come looking for you.

  And what? The guy thought he’d just jerk open that door and retrieve the envelope? Brodie was no fool. That car could be wired. As soon as the door opened—boom.

  “Where is he?” Jennifer’s body pressed to Brodie’s. Her whisper in his ear was a bare breath of sound. “I don’t like this.”