Harlequin Intrigue January 2021 - Box Set 2 of 2

by Elle James, Nichole Severn

  Thunder clapped overhead. A drizzle of rain pelted her face from above, bringing her back into reality. He’d cleaned and bandaged the small scrapes along her forearms from the tree bark and given her the last of their water when she’d gotten light-headed, but none of that healed the invisible wound left behind by his indifference. He was here to bring her back into federal custody, and he’d offered to help because she happened to be carrying his child. Nothing more. Any promises that fell from that mouth, so close to hers, didn’t mean anything. She couldn’t let them mean anything.

  Distancing herself from his comforting weight pressed against her, Raleigh surveyed the seemingly abandoned property fenced out at least a quarter mile back. Two large pines towered over the bright red farmhouse trimmed in white. A few other structures, smaller than the main house, interrupted the smooth expanse of green grass across the flat land. There was a detached garage; maybe even a second, although smaller, house; a large barn and a chicken coop. She followed the outline of white vinyl fencing that disappeared into the tree line off to the right. No visible vehicles. No animals. Nothing within a few miles. She was used to isolation, good at keeping to herself, but if the shooter who’d followed Beckett really did have some kind of connection inside the Marshals Service, there was a chance that isolation could be used against them. “You’re sure this place can’t be traced back to you?”

  “I was one of the marshals who seized the property from the previous owner. That’s how I know about this place, but USMS owns the deed. Unless whoever tried to kill us can get into one of the most secure federal databases in the country, there’s no way they’d know this place exists.” He adjusted his hat, then headed down the smooth slope leading to the main house, lean muscle flexing along the length of his hamstrings. “We’ll be safe here while we come up with a plan to get to your assistant. It won’t be easy. The FBI will be watching her, waiting to see if you make contact.”

  She followed close on his heels, hyperaware of every move he made, every scan of the property, every change in his expression. Beckett Foster had one of the highest recovery-and-protection rates his branch of law enforcement had ever seen. If there was a threat, he’d be the first to see it coming. She had to believe that. Had to believe that even though her past had wedged this distance between them, he’d do whatever it took to protect their daughter.

  The ground leveled out under her as they approached the farmhouse’s front door, and her fingers automatically curled into her palms. Exposed wood pillars added to the country feel lining the wood wraparound porch, large windows peering out over the rest of the property. Glancing in, she searched the first level of the two-story structure but couldn’t see anything more than a few pieces of furniture, crisply painted white walls and the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the home. No movement inside. Nothing to suggest he was walking her into a federal ambush made up of marshals and FBI agents, but she wouldn’t discount the possibility.

  Beckett keyed in a code on the electronic keypad where a dead bolt usually fit, and the sound of a lock disengaging reached her ears. He swung the door inward, motioning her inside past him and the raw wood door at his back. The weight of his attention pressurized the air in her lungs as she stepped over the threshold. “You can get settled in the larger of the two bedrooms on the main floor while I check the perimeter. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, not knowing what else to say as she took in the large expanse of the main living space. Dark wood flooring stretched the length of the house all the way back to the windows she’d spotted before, with bright white couches and a modern wood-and-metal coffee table set between them. Blue chairs caught her eye from the dining room table beside two more support columns welcoming guests into the modern kitchen. Hard to believe a drug smuggler had run his business for the cartel through a home this beautiful. It looked too…welcoming. Homey.

  Beckett closed the door behind him, leaving her alone for the first time since he’d broken into her aunt’s cabin, and an instant hollowness fisted in her gut. Which didn’t make any sense. He’d ripped through her life as quickly as a hurricane, leaving her decimated, ruined and empty. The pain—the longing—she’d felt after he’d walked away shouldn’t have dug its claws in this deep. She was supposed to be an ocean, able to survive anything, supposed to withstand the strength of the storm, but then she’d heard him yelling in his sleep. And everything inside her had broken. The walls she’d built, the anger she’d held on to… They’d evaporated as fast as clouds shifted in the sky. In that moment, with her hand over his heart soothing small circles into his chest, the past had sped up to meet the present.

  Raleigh folded her arms across her midsection.

  Modern black-and-white tile adorned the fireplace off to her left. Her fingers and toes tingled with the need for warmth, but that was nothing compared to the heat still burning through her from when Beckett had placed his hands on her hips after she’d slipped. It was one thing to ask for his help, but to hole up under the same roof again while a shooter hunted them down trailed goose bumps across her chest. She trod deeper into the house, passing the kitchen and a small home office until she came to the first bedroom in the long stretch of hallway. She ached at the sight of the bed, but she couldn’t let down her guard yet. They were out of food, out of water, and their only lead had already been questioned and investigated by the FBI before Raleigh had been arrested. If her assistant was responsible for framing Raleigh for taking that money, the feds would’ve uncovered the evidence.

  She ran her hands through her snarled hair, the ends frizzing with the added humidity outside. Light gray wallpaper and navy bedcovers urged her to close her eyes. She slipped onto the edge of a pale padded bench at the end of the bed, skimming her palms down her jeans. The same flooring in the main part of the house ran lengthwise through this room, same color of white upholstery giving a serene, peaceful feeling to the entire house.

  Peace. When was the last time she’d felt something even remotely close to peace?

  She wanted to sink into it. Wanted to believe nothing outside this room existed, that she hadn’t been falsely charged with fraud and embezzlement, that there wasn’t a killer targeting her. Raleigh studied the streaks of water trailing down the large windows. What would it be like to live here? Raise her daughter here? What would it be like to wake up next to Beckett in this very bed? Raleigh moved to smooth the wrinkles from the deep-colored comforter but hesitated at the sight of the dirt still caking her hands and fingernails. No. This wasn’t her bed. This wasn’t her house. This wouldn’t ever be her life. Not as long as she was a fugitive.

  Not as long as Beckett only saw her as a criminal.

  “The perimeter’s secure.” Footsteps echoed down the hallway before mesmerizing blue eyes settled on her, and her heart gave a small jerk in her chest. The traitor. “And we now have running water and power after a small, but very serious, electric shock I wasn’t prepared for.”

  “Beckett, I…” She pushed up off the bed. The life they’d had together, their relationship, had been equally ripped right out from under them, and there was nothing they could do to get it back. Beckett would never let himself see her as anything more than the enemy he’d dedicated his career—his life—to hunting, and she was so tired of watching the people who’d claimed they cared walk away. She’d given everything to hang on to him after her arrest until it’d felt as though her heart had dried up. Too much had changed between them. She’d changed, but neither of them would be able to walk away from this unharmed. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice what was left of herself to hold on to that hope she could fix this. Gravity increased its grip on her at the realization, the desertlike cracks left over from heartbreak filling. “I’m sorry. For all of this. You had every right to distance yourself from me after my arrest. You were protecting yourself, and I understand that now. It was wrong of me to put you
in that position in the first place, but I need you to believe I wasn’t reaching out to you to use your job with the Marshals to my advantage. I just needed…you. You were all I had left.”

  He lowered his attention to the floor. No response.

  “I can’t keep running. I’m going to be a mom in a few months, and the only way I can do that job justice is to make this baby girl a priority and to give her a life she deserves. Give her some stability.” She smoothed her palms over her still-damp shirt, but reassurance didn’t surface this time. “Even if that means her growing up without me.”

  Beckett shot his head up, locked his gaze on her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Whoever framed me for taking that money is powerful, Beckett. They’d covered all their bases and made sure the evidence pointed to me. This doesn’t feel like some desperate move to steal millions of dollars of donation money. It’s personal. It’s outright destruction. They’ve planned every move from the beginning, and they’re obviously willing to kill me in order to make sure everything goes according to that plan. I’m not going to risk this baby’s or your life for the smallest chance of proving I’m innocent.” The muscles in her jaw ached with the pressure from her back teeth. “I want you to bring me in. You’ll have full custody after she’s born. Just…promise me to make sure she’s loved, and that she knows I did everything I could for her.”

  “You told me you could prove you’re innocent, and now you want me to bring you in.” Strong fingers encircled her arm, tugging her into a wall of muscle. She pressed her palms against his chest, his heart thudding hard beneath her hands. “What’s changed?”

  “Beckett, this is the only way to make sure you and the baby are safe.” Raleigh sucked in a deep breath, and her throat dried. “I’ve lost too many people in my life. I can’t handle the thought of losing her. And…I won’t lose you.”

  “No one is taking you from me. Not again.” He crushed his mouth to hers.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  She was willing to turn herself in to protect their baby. To protect him.

  The guilty ran, but they never surrendered.

  Beckett had been fully committed to giving in to the anger and distance that’d been swirling inside him for the past four months, but then she’d up and asked him to bring her in to the feds. To raise their baby on his own. He wasn’t sure what’d happened next other than knowing, deep down, he wasn’t ready to let her go that easily, and he had pulled her right into him and kissed her.

  He opened his mouth wider, took everything she had to give and more. Slipping both arms around Raleigh, he pulled her against him as tight as humanly possible. An explosion of need seared through him as he consumed her. Enough to decimate everything he’d been holding on to since her arrest. The anger, the betrayal, the fear of the past, of realizing the person he’d trusted the most had become nothing more than a common criminal. Reckless, untamed desire for the woman in his arms took control to the point he barely had enough sense to pull away to take a breath.

  Damn it. She was everything he remembered, everything he’d wanted, and he wasn’t sure it was possible to ever get enough of her. These past few months—the isolation, the loneliness—disappeared in an instant as she penetrated the seam of his mouth with her tongue, and the entire world threatened to drop right out from under him.

  She gasped as he trailed his mouth along the tendon at her throat, fingers fisting in his shirt for balance. “Beckett.”

  His name on her lips only intensified the craze singing through his veins. Lean muscle flexed under his fingers as he maneuvered them back toward the single bed. A feral growl escaped his throat as she threaded her fingers through his hair and redirected his mouth to hers. Capturing his bottom lip between her teeth, she bit down, and electricity lightninged down his spine. No matter how many times he’d tried to move on, to forget her, she was just so damn perfect. Compelling, passionate and wild. Every cell in his body wanted every cell in hers, and he didn’t have the strength to pull away.

  Her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and the muscles down her spine tensed under his touch. “Beckett, we need to stop. This isn’t…this isn’t what I want.”

  He gripped her hips, drawing back. His lungs battled to keep up with his racing heart rate, his entire body lit up from a single brush of her mouth against his. Raw. Unbalanced. Warmth swirled in those green eyes, and his gut clenched with unsatisfied desire. Dimly, he understood this was a bad idea. He was a marshal tasked with bringing her in to answer for not appearing before the judge, and while they were having a baby together, that didn’t make his job any less of a reality. She was right. She couldn’t keep running, couldn’t hide forever. That wasn’t the kind of life either of them wanted for this baby. “You’re right.”

  He sucked in a breath between his teeth as she swept her tongue along the edges of her mouth. Why couldn’t they go back to before she’d been arrested? To the moment when neither of them had been anything more than two people intent on living out the rest of their lives together. No secrets. No lies. No careers driving them apart. What they’d had together then hadn’t been flawless, but it couldn’t compare to any other personal encounter he’d experienced. She’d been a bright light in a sea of past darkness. For a while, she’d been his.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry. I…” Missed this connection. Missed her. Running one hand through his hair, Beckett put space between them, their exhalations mingling for a few breaths. No matter how this investigation ended, it’d never be the same as it once was. There was too much history between them, too much doubt.

  He’d meant what he had said before. He’d fight like hell to ensure nobody—not even the US Marshals Service—could take her and this baby from him, but his offer of protection couldn’t equate to anything more than that. Partnerships thrived on trust, and until they were able to prove she had nothing to do with those stolen donation funds, he couldn’t trust her. “It won’t happen again.”

  “I think that’s for the best.” Nodding, Raleigh swiped the back of her hand against her kiss-stung lips, the slight hint of brown sugar from the granola settling on his tongue. She hiked her thumb toward one of the closed doors attached to the bedroom. “I’m going to shower before we figure out our next move. It’s been a rough couple of days, and it’s going to take a while to get all this dirt off.”

  Their next move. Right. Because there was still a gunman out there ready to rip her and their baby out of his life, and they only had one lead when it came to clearing her name of the embezzlement charges.

  “Good idea. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can find us something to eat.” And maybe run off the heat still simmering under his skin to cool down in the rain. What the hell had he been thinking, kissing her like that? He’d set the lines between them, and it’d taken less than twenty-four hours for him to break his own rules. Guess that’d always been the problem when it came to Raleigh. He hadn’t been thinking. Not when he’d run to help her during the mugging all those months ago. Not when they’d fallen into bed together that same night, and not when he’d almost handed in his resignation from the Marshals after her arrest. Beckett headed toward the hallway and started to close the bedroom door behind him. Distance. He needed to clear his head, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get the chance sticking around here.

  “Beckett, wait.” Her voice slipped through the crack in the door, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  He slowed. Long, dirt-stained fingers wrapped around the edge of the door to pry it wider. Perfectly shaped brows smudged with dirt, a shallow laceration across one sharp cheekbone, light pink lips with a bit of beard burn on one corner. None of it took away from the flawless beauty and strength underneath as she leveled those mesmerizing green eyes on him. She toyed with the bandages he’d secured along her forearms.

  “You saved my life, even though I’m sure it was the last thing
on your mind,” she said. “If you hadn’t been there when that gunman tried to shoot me, I’m not sure I’d be standing here, and I wanted to thank you. For protecting us.”

  Hell, no matter how many times he’d convinced himself he had her pegged, she’d deliver a devastating uppercut and sucker punch him with the unexpected. Raleigh wasn’t innocent, not in the least, but she sure wasn’t acting like a criminal either, and he had no idea what to do with that information. “Part of the job.”

  “Is that all this is to you? What this baby and me are? A job?” A wave of vulnerability cracked through her carefully controlled expression as though he’d somehow gotten beneath her skin, but Beckett had been played before. Every change in body language, every look, every sweep of her hands over her stomach was meant to manipulate and confuse him. This intelligent, ambitious, beautiful woman only wanted one thing: to survive. He knew better than to believe any of what she’d told him had been used for anything other than getting her way. She only let him see what she wanted him to see, same game as his old man played until the day Hank got up and left Beckett and his mother behind, and he wasn’t going to let himself fall prey again.

  “I’ll be back to check on you in twenty,” he said. “There’re alarm sensors on all the windows, so I’d stay away from them if I were you. Can’t be too careful.”

  The fine lines between her brows smoothed. “Thanks for the advice, Marshal.”

  She pushed the door closed, the lock engaging loud in his ears. The sound of water hitting tile registered through the thin wood a few seconds later. He gripped his hand around the doorknob to keep himself from barging back in that room and telling her the truth. He had to focus. They had one chance to get to Emily Cline, Raleigh’s assistant, without alerting the feds or the Marshals Service he’d found his fugitive, and he wasn’t going to waste it.