by Cynthia Eden
Neither did he. The guy had wanted them to come out there and find him. Hell, no wonder tracking the phone had been so easy.
“What’s in the car?” Jennifer asked, voice low. She tried to peer inside.
His gaze was on the trees to the right. Brodie thought he’d just glimpsed a light from those trees, as if metal had glinted when the sunlight hit it.
“Back away,” Brodie said softly to Jennifer.
“What?”
His instincts were screaming at him. He grabbed her and yanked her to the other side of the car just as gunshots rang out. The bullets missed them as they ran, but the shots peppered into the side of the Mustang.
Then he heard the roar of an engine. Brodie looked up just as a motorcycle burst through the trees. Lifting his own weapon, Brodie aimed for that vehicle. He fired off a shot, and he knew he’d found his target when he heard a hard grunt.
But the driver didn’t fall off his bike. He revved the engine and raced away even as he kept firing back at Brodie.
Dirt swirled in the motorcycle’s wake. Brodie ran after the bike, but he wasn’t about to catch up to the guy driving. “Damn it!”
“Brodie?” Jennifer’s voice was hesitant behind him.
He grabbed for his phone to call his brother. “Davis, the guy is heading north. He’s on a motorcycle, and he’s armed.”
“On my way,” Davis told him instantly. Brodie knew that Davis would try to intersect the guy, provided the man stayed on the road. Since he had a motorcycle at his disposal, there was no guarantee the stalker would stick to any of the main roads in the area. The slippery SOB might escape from them again.
He whirled around, looking for Jennifer, and he saw her reaching for the Mustang’s door. “Jennifer, don’t!”
But she already had the door open. She grabbed inside for the envelope, and he grabbed her. Brodie jerked her back, holding her tightly against him. “What are you doing? That thing could be wired to blow!” It still could blow. He hauled her with him, running back toward the trees and—
The Mustang exploded.
* * *
HE BRAKED THE motorcycle when he heard the explosion. Just had to go for the file, didn’t you?
His hand rose and pressed to his left shoulder. McGuire had hit him, and the bullet had driven right through his flesh. But he was used to the pain. After what Jennifer had done to him, a bullet wound was nothing.
He’d stitch that wound up himself once he was clear. Another scar to join the others that marked his body. Another wound that she would pay for.
His bloody fingers curved around the handlebars. A glance over his shoulder showed him the billowing black smoke that was rising into the air.
I need to make sure she’s gone.
He wasn’t about to leave Jennifer’s death to chance. He drove the motorcycle back toward that smoke. He saw the wreckage. The flames.
But no blood. No bodies. No sign of Jennifer or her hero at all.
Chapter Four
“You could have been killed!”
Brodie had finally stopped their mad, frantic race away from the flames. They were back near the horses, and the animals neighed when they saw Brodie.
He grabbed her arm, his grip tight and his face angry. She tensed. “The car was wired to explode,” Brodie snapped. “If you had lingered inside for just a few seconds more—”
“I’d be dead,” Jennifer finished as her breath heaved out. “Right, I get it.” He didn’t need to scare her with what-if scenarios, since she was already pretty terrified as it was.
His gaze fell to her hand and the manila envelope that she clutched. “You really think whatever is in there—you think it was worth dying for?” Before she could answer, he shook his head. “I didn’t think I’d get to you in time.”
“Brodie—”
“I was afraid.” His words were whispered now, but his eyes were still bright with fury. “In my mind, I saw you dying right in front of me.”
Then he kissed her. It wasn’t a soft, light kiss. It was a kiss of desperation. Passionate. Wild with need.
She leaned toward him and kissed him back just as fervently. She’d been afraid—for him—when those bullets started flying.
“Don’t scare me like that again,” Brodie whispered against her lips as his head rose a bit. “Don’t.”
Jennifer couldn’t give him a promise that she might not be able to keep.
He drew a ragged breath. His mouth came toward hers again. She rose up, leaned into him—
And he yanked the envelope right from her hand.
No! “Brodie—”
He ripped open the envelope. A black-and-white photograph spilled out. As soon as she saw the image, Jennifer knew her carefully constructed world was about to fall apart.
Because it was an image of her, an image that had been taken years ago. She was standing beside Brodie’s mother, standing right outside the McGuire ranch house.
She knew exactly when that image must have been snapped. Because despite what Brodie believed, she had visited the McGuire ranch in the past.
She’d been there...days before both of Brodie’s parents had been killed.
His fingers whitened around the picture. “It’s a fake.” His voice was a hoarse rasp, one that she barely recognized.
There was so much pain on his face.
She wouldn’t lie to him—couldn’t lie, not then.
“It’s a fake,” he said again, but this time his gaze flew up to meet hers.
Jennifer shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
Shock came first, then anger. Betrayal. “What is going on?” Brodie demanded.
Seeing that picture, knowing that she’d been tracked to the home of Brodie’s parents, Jennifer just couldn’t keep up the lies. Not when he’d been seconds away from dying. Because he was saving me. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“I’m figuring that out.”
But he was learning the truth...too late.
* * *
FOUR ANGRY MCGUIRE men glared at Jennifer. She was back at the McGuire Securities office. Davis hadn’t seen any sign of the man on the motorcycle. He and Brodie had searched the area, but they’d turned up nothing.
And then they’d taken her in for questioning.
Like I’m the criminal.
Maybe...maybe she was.
Grant McGuire was seated behind his desk. From her research, she already knew he was the eldest McGuire brother. His eyes raked over her, and his face was a stone mask. Grant was the former army ranger. The one who’d first formed McGuire Securities after he’d left the military. From what she’d learned about Grant, the man was a force to be reckoned with and definitely not someone you’d want as an enemy.
It’s a pity he seems to be my enemy now.
Mackenzie “Mac” McGuire stood to the right of Grant. He was the one who’d been in Delta Force. When he spoke, his voice was clipped, hard. He looked like the other McGuires—same green eyes, same handsome but hard features. Same glare at her.
Davis and Brodie were to the left of Grant. Brodie was glaring at her, and Davis, well, he kept casting nervous glances at his twin.
She felt rather nervous when she looked at Brodie, too.
“Ms. Wesley,” Grant’s voice was smooth, totally lacking emotion. “There’s a date and time stamp on this image.”
Yes, unfortunately, there was.
“You visited our parents just days before their death. That was a visit that none of us were aware of.”
That had rather been the point. Secret visits were supposed to be secret.
“Why?” Brodie rasped. “Why did you see them?”
She took a bracing breath. The why was actually easy enough. The rest of the story would be the gut-wrenching part. “Because you saved me.”
His brows shot up. “What?”
“You risked your life to save mine. After what you did for me, did you honestly think I’d walk away without trying to repay you?” I always pay my debt
s. Her gaze slid to the picture. Brodie’s mother had been a lovely woman. Kind and friendly. And Brodie had gotten his dimples from her.
“How did you even find my mother?” Brodie stalked around the desk and came toward her. “You only had my first name. You wouldn’t have been given clearance to a SEAL’s files.”
“I have more clearance than you know.” Her clearance was a big part of the problem. Her hands tightened around the arms of her chair. “You risked your life for me. I just wanted to...to show you I was grateful. I found your parents. I offered them—”
“Money?” Davis supplied.
“Yes.” Because money had been all that she could offer them. She’d been paid well for the work that she’d done over the years, so she’d wanted to give that money to someone who deserved it.
“How much?” Brodie gritted out.
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
His eyes widened. “And my parents took the money?”
“Not at first.” At first, his mother had been shocked. She’d been adamant that her son had just been doing his job. But... “Something changed. I was only in town for two days. I told her to call me if she changed her mind. I tried to convince her to keep the money. She could use it for the ranch. For her retirement. Something.” And she wouldn’t feel so guilty for the risks Brodie had taken. “An hour before I was scheduled to leave, she called me at my hotel. She wanted the money, but she needed it to be in cash.”
Brodie’s brows climbed. “I’m supposed to believe that?”
“It’s true!”
“My mom didn’t need money! The ranch was fine. My brothers and I—we always sent her money. She wouldn’t take that kind of cash from a stranger.”
A desperate woman will do anything. The last time she’d seen Brodie’s mother, nervous tension had clung to the woman.
“I got her the cash. I delivered it to her at the ranch.” Her gaze slid to the photograph on the desk. “That’s when that image must have been taken. The bag in her hand? That’s what I put the cash in.”
He whirled back toward the photo. Silence filled that room, stretching uncomfortably.
When Jennifer lifted her gaze, she found Grant staring straight at her with an unreadable gaze.
“Do you know who killed our parents?” Grant asked her, his voice quiet.
Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t even find out they were dead until...until a few months ago.” When her stalker had appeared. When she’d realized there was a very short list of people who could help her, people she could trust.
Brodie had been at the top of that list.
So she’d started researching her onetime hero, and then she’d learned about the tragedy that had wrecked his family.
After she’d given the money to Brodie’s mother, Jennifer had left Austin and been flown straight to Paris. Another assignment waited, and she hadn’t been able to look back.
If she had...could she have changed the fate of Brodie’s parents? Even since seeing that black-and-white photo, a new fear had risen within Jennifer. Had they died because of her? Had she taken danger right to them?
“I didn’t make the connection between their deaths and me,” Jennifer whispered. “Not until I saw the photograph. I didn’t think anyone knew what I’d done. I tried to be so careful.” Her heart hurt in her chest. If she was truly the cause of all the pain that Brodie had been through, when she’d just wanted to help him...
“Why would you need to be careful?” This time, it was Mac who spoke as he stepped forward. He’d been so still before, but she’d been aware of a wild intensity that seemed to cling to him. His eyes—a shade lighter than Brodie’s—narrowed on her. “Who cares if a society princess visits a ranch in Texas? Why would that matter to anyone?”
If she had been just a society princess, then it wouldn’t have mattered. Her gaze sought Brodie’s. This was the moment she’d dreaded. “I’m not who you think I am.”
He closed the distance between them once more and seemed to surround her. “Tell me something I haven’t already figured out.”
He stared at her as if she were a stranger. To him, she probably was.
Sometimes, I feel like a stranger to myself. “When you found me in that little room...when my captors took me, I wasn’t being held because someone wanted to ransom me.” The breath that she inhaled seemed to chill her lungs. “I was being held because someone had found out that I was working undercover for the US government. My cover was blown, and they were going to kill me.”
Brodie shook his head. “No, your father—”
“Nate. Nate Wesley.” She said his name softly as she pictured him in her mind, dressed in his expensive suit, a gold ring flashing on his pinkie finger. Oh, but he’d been perfect in the role of her father. “I’ve never been a society princess, but I was picked to play that part. Just as Nate was picked to play the role of an oil magnate.” She smiled at him, and the smile felt sad on her lips. “All intel isn’t gathered on the battlefield. Sometimes, secrets are shared in boardrooms and ballrooms. A cover was made for me. A cover was made for the man who acted as my father. We were given missions to complete, jobs to do.” And they’d done them. Again and again.
Jennifer nervously wet her lips. “After you rescued me, I had one job to complete in Paris. I did it, and I got out of the business.”
“Spies don’t just get out of the business.” Grant was studying her with calculation. “It’s never that easy.”
A spy. Yes, for all intents and purposes, she’d been a spy. “Nate and I were expected to be in certain circles. Certain wealthy, connected circles. If you lose your wealth, well, to the people who moved in that world, you were dead. They immediately cut you from their lives. To get out of that cover...reports were leaked that Nate was losing his wealth.” Only Nate had wanted to carry things one step further. He’d wanted to sever all ties to his former life. “Then he had the...accident...on his boat.”
“I’ll be damned.” Mac paced to the window. “Is he even dead?”
She wasn’t about to reveal any more intel on Nate. He had a new life somewhere. A new wife. She wasn’t going to draw him back into this nightmare.
“The man on the phone...” Brodie’s voice was low and hard. “He said you killed your father.”
“He’s wrong.”
“Or you’re lying,” he threw right back.
Jennifer flinched, but she’d expected his attack. His rage was palpable. I knew he’d feel betrayed. The last thing she’d wanted to do was hurt him.
“I mean, you’ve lied to me before, right? So how do I know you’re not lying right now?”
Their gazes locked. He was leaning over, so close that she could see the flecks of gold hidden in the green of his eyes.
“Why did you even seek me out?” Brodie demanded. “Are you being stalked or is this some giant setup? Hell...that hit-and-run, the gunshots today—they were aimed at me, not you, weren’t they?”
What? Was Brodie seriously suggesting that she was somehow setting him up to die? She put her hands against his chest and shoved back. “Stop it!” She jumped to her feet.
But Brodie blocked her path before she could storm away. “Why did you come to find me?”
“Because you were the only one I could trust!” Jennifer basically yelled her confession at him. “I’m not in the business any longer. That means I’m pretty much dead and buried to the government contacts I had before. The whole deny-all-knowledge bit, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. And the friends I made back then? When I was the oil magnate’s daughter? How fast do you think they vanished when word got out that the business was broke?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw.
“You saved me before. You risked your life. You showed me that you could handle dangerous situations. I believed that I could trust you.” He hadn’t been working a secret agenda. She had. “When my back was against the wall, I needed someone I could depend on to help me. I thought that person was you.” Her spine straightened. “But
I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry I bothered you. You won’t be seeing me again.”
She turned from him and took two steps. Before she could take a third, his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her back against the hard expanse of his chest. “You don’t get to vanish that easily.” His words were a whisper against her ear, and she recognized them for the threat that they were.
Her eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know anything about your parents’ death. I can’t help you.”
When he turned her in his arms, Jennifer forced her eyes to open.
“What happened to the fifty grand?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did they need the money?”
He could ask those questions all day long, but her answer would still be the same. “I don’t know. I didn’t question your mother. I just gave her the money and left.”
He stared at her as if she were a stranger. I’m not, Brodie, I’m not!
“If I knew, I would tell you. Do you honestly think I’d lie to protect some killer?”
When he didn’t answer but just stared back at her, Jennifer’s eyes darkened even more with her own growing fury. “For years, I worked to protect people. I risked my life to put criminals away—criminals who dealt in arms trades, drugs. I put everything I had into my job.” Until she’d felt there was nothing left of her to give. “I would never protect a killer.”
He had no clue about what her life had been like. By the time he’d burst into that little room, she’d been playing the role of Jennifer Wesley for so long that she didn’t know how to be anyone else. She’d felt hollowed out, empty.
And she’d been moments away from her own death.
Then Brodie had appeared. He’d offered her escape. Life. A second chance.
Behind Brodie, Grant cleared his throat. “You came to McGuire Securities because you had a stalker after you.”
There was no past tense. The guy was still chasing her down. The near death by explosion she’d experienced that morning should be proof of that.
“‘I know,’” Brodie whispered. He shook his head. “That’s what he meant by that picture, right? The guy knows you aren’t really Jennifer Wesley. He knows what you did for the government.”