Sunset Promises

by Carla Cassidy

  “So you intended to seduce me with lies.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever it took to get the job done.” His lips curved into a wicked smile as his gaze swept over her slowly, sensually. “Although if you understand the rules, I’m certainly game for a little seduction to help pass the time.”

  “And what are the rules?”

  With one smooth movement he got up off the bed and approached where she stood. Although her instincts screamed for her to back up, not let him get close, her pride kept her rooted to the spot.

  “The rules are simple,” he said as one of his hands reached up to stroke her hair. He stood so close to her his warm breath fanned her face and his wild, provocative scent enveloped her as he continued. “No strings,” he explained, his hand leaving her hair and trailing down to the pulse in the hollow of her throat. “No commitment.” He caressed her neck, his hand warm against her flesh. “As long as both parties understand the rules, there’s no harm in a little seduction.”

  She knew the pulse in her throat throbbed erratically and her blood had slowed to a languid heavy flow. His touch was like a drug, beckoning her toward surrender as his hand moved from her neck to her shoulder.

  For the space of a second she wanted to throw her head back, fall into the seduction she knew would momentarily erase her fears, quiet all questions and reduce her to nothing but physical responses. But the moment passed quickly and irritation took the place of temporary insanity.

  “Is seducing those you’re sworn to protect part of your job description?” She moved away from him, relieved to put some distance between them. “So basically, what you’re telling me is that I’m supposed to testify at a trial and that’s why somebody is trying to kill me,” she said, attempting to get the subject back on track.

  His eyes flashed darkly and he sat back on the bed. “That’s about the size of it.”

  “But how can I testify without my memories?”

  “There are a lot of people depending on you getting those memories back before the trial.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “They’ll hire the best doctors, try drugs and hypnotherapists…whatever it takes to release those memories.”

  “My testimony is that important?”

  Hank raked a hand through his thick black hair, his eyes narrowed. “We’ve been trying to get Cameron Collier for years, but the man is smart and has managed to distance himself from every vile act he’s instigated. He’s powerful and evil. Your testimony is our best chance of putting him away permanently.”

  Colette rubbed two fingers across her forehead, where a headache had begun an insistent pounding. “I can’t believe this is happening.” She rubbed her forehead once again, then looked back at Hank. “What if I refuse to testify? Then Cameron Collier would leave me alone and everything would be fine.”

  “Except you’d be in prison for obstructing justice.”

  She gasped. “Surely they wouldn’t do that. I have a daughter. They wouldn’t put me in jail.”

  Hank laughed. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking anyone cares whether you’re a mother or not. All these people care about is putting Collier away for a long time behind bars. Besides, don’t be naive enough to think Collier will leave you alone. You’re marked for death as far as he’s concerned.”

  “But if you let me go, I could disappear. Collier couldn’t find me and neither could the police.”

  He sighed and once again raked a hand through his shiny long hair. “I can’t do that. I have a job to do and I intend to deliver you to the authorities in California when it’s time. Besides, do you want to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?”

  Colette sighed in frustration. “It sounds like no matter what I choose to do, that will be the outcome. If I testify and Collier is such a powerful man, what’s to keep him from having somebody come after me even if he’s in prison?” She shivered. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how alone she was in all this, what a no-win situation it was for her.

  “Colette, I can’t make you testify. I can only tell you that before you developed amnesia, you wanted to, you knew it was the right thing to do.”

  “Well, I’ve changed my mind. Just let me go.”

  “I told you, I can’t do that. It’s my job to get you to trial, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  Over my dead body, Colette thought. She’d rather take her chances against the people in law enforcement than a killer like Collier.

  She sank down onto the edge of the bed where Brook lay sleeping. “So before I ran away, your job was to baby-sit me, so to speak?”

  “So to speak,” he said dryly. “We were holed up together in a hotel room, mostly getting on each other’s nerves and impatiently biding time.”

  Why didn’t she remember any of it? Had the experience of sharing living space with Hank been so unpleasant she’d blocked it out along with the murder? Or was he still telling lies?

  She stared at her daughter and realized a very important question had yet to be answered. He’d said this had all begun about seven months before, so she would have already been pregnant when she’d overheard the conversation in Collier’s office. “Do you know who Brook’s father is?” she asked softly.

  He stared at her, his eyelids half mast over his dark, glittering eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “I didn’t tell you?”

  “We shared a room, Colette, we didn’t bare our hearts.” He stood. “I’m going to have to run out and buy some things we’re going to need. Tell me what you need for the kid that won’t wait until morning.”

  “Formula, a bottle and diapers,” she said, hoping, praying, he intended to take her with him.

  All she needed was one minute of inattention, one second to make a clean escape from him. There was no way she intended to let him get her back to California, no way she intended to risk her life, especially now that she had Brook to consider.

  Hopefully in a store she could lose him. She didn’t know what she would do once she evaded him…she’d deal with that particular dilemma when the time came.

  “You don’t, uh, breast-feed?” His face reddened slightly.

  She shook her head, also feeling the warmth of a blush. “Apparently stress plays havoc with a body. Let’s go.” She stood.

  He shook his head and for a brief moment regret flashed in his eyes. “Sorry, it’s safer if I go. You stay here.” He pulled his belt off and approached her.

  “Wha-what are you doing?” she asked, backing away from him.

  “I’m sorry, Colette, but I can’t let you run again.”

  She bumped against the wall. “I won’t. I won’t run,” she exclaimed.

  “Don’t make this difficult.” He whirled her around and pulled her hands behind her back. Despite her struggle, he managed to tie her hands together with his belt.

  He scooped her up into his arms and placed her in the center of the bed where he’d been lying. As Colette attempted to get up, Hank unplugged the phone cord from the wall, then from the back of the phone and fastened it through the belt around her hands to the headboard of the bed.

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Colette yelled. She felt like a young steer, lassoed and helplessly tied.

  “I’d be crazy to trust you,” he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket.

  Impotent tears sprang to Colette’s eyes as he once again approached her and tied the handkerchief around her mouth, effectively gagging any of her further protests.

  For a long moment his gaze held hers as he remained bending over her. His dark eyes flickered with an indefinable emotion and he reached out and gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her forehead. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he whispered as his hand lingered on the side of her face and his eyes pierced to her soul.

  Despite her anger, beyond her fear, another emotion appeared, desire evoked by his touch. It surged, as strong as a memory, as familiar as the hand that spawned it. Why? Wh
y did the touch of his hand not only produce a swift heat of desire, but also the whisper of sweet recollection?

  His eyes flashed again, this time dark and cold. He stood and moved toward the other bed. “I’ll take the baby with me. A little insurance that if you happen to get untied you won’t do anything stupid.” He picked up the sleeping child, who cuddled against his broad chest. “I shouldn’t be long.”

  With these final words, he disappeared out the door.

  Again hot tears burned at Colette’s eyes. What kind of a man was he to leave her like this? She concentrated on not crying, knowing if she did her nose would stuff and the handkerchief across her mouth would make it difficult to breathe. Although it would serve him right to return and find her dead, suffocated to death.

  She didn’t even attempt to get free. The moment he’d decided to take Brook with him, he’d won this particular round. But there would come another time, another chance to escape.

  There was no way she was going to allow him to take her to California to testify in a trial she knew would put a target on her head. Somehow, someway she’d let Cameron Collier know he had nothing to fear from her and then he’d leave her alone.

  If it was just herself she had to worry about, perhaps she’d feel differently about testifying. But she wasn’t alone. She had Brook to consider. Brook needed her alive, not with a bounty on her head.

  She might feel differently if she had somebody in her life to support her, somebody who could make her feel secure and loved no matter what choice she made. But she didn’t. It wasn’t fair to put this kind of life-and-death burden on her sisters, and she had no idea who or where Brook’s father was.

  She was alone…except for Hank. Hopefully he could keep her safe until she could talk to Cameron Collier and tell him to call off his troops.

  As she thought of that moment when Hank’s touch had pulled forth a violent burst of desire, she wondered, as Hank kept her safe from Collier’s men, who would keep her safe from Hank?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Hank held the baby awkwardly in one arm as he pushed the cart down the aisle of the discount variety store. He didn’t like the way the baby felt in his arms, all sweet innocence and pure need.

  He hadn’t wanted to take the baby along, but he hadn’t known how else to handle the situation. The baby was an unwanted complication and an ace in the hole for making Colette cooperate.

  Standing in front of the display of diapers, he tried to ignore how her sweet breath warmed his neck, how her baby powder scent seemed to sweep him back to a time long ago. A time of hope, of dreams…all shattered in the blink of an eye.

  He no longer had the energy to hope, and had lost all his ability to dream. He was a man with a cold heart, and no pretty brunette with big hazel eyes or dark-haired cherub babe would change that fact.

  He grabbed a package of diapers he thought would fit and shoved all thoughts of that distant past behind. Moving on to the canned formula section, he concentrated on making a mental list of what other things they might need for a couple of days on the road.

  As he threw a couple of baby sleepers into the basket, Brook continued to sleep in his arm, her long lashes feathering her chubby cheeks. He tried not to look at her, didn’t want to fall into the kind of love affair babies easily inspired in most people.

  From the baby section, he moved to womens’ wear, knowing Colette had nothing but the clothes on her back. It was unfortunate their escape hadn’t been better planned. A packed suitcase of clothing and necessities would have been nice.

  At least he had most of his own things. Knowing there might come a time when he’d have to leave the ranch fast, he’d kept his own clothes and personal items in the car.

  He added a couple oversize T-shirts and several pairs of jogging pants to the items in his basket, then as an afterthought threw in an infant car seat and headed for the cashier.

  “Oh, what a sweet baby doll,” the cashier exclaimed as she rang up Hank’s purchases. “How old is she?”

  “Not even a month,” Hank answered. He looked down at Brook, surprised to see her not only awake, but her bright dark eyes peering up at him. As he stared at her, her tiny mouth turned up into a smile.

  “Look at that, isn’t that precious. She’s smiling at you.” The cashier’s voice rose an octave and a headache blossomed in the center of Hank’s forehead.

  “It’s probably gas,” he answered, wishing she’d hurry up.

  “You must be such a proud papa,” she said.

  Hank merely grunted. He paid for his purchases, then headed for his car, hoping Colette hadn’t gotten loose and done something stupid. He paused long enough to use a pay phone to call his superior and let him know where they were and what had transpired, then headed back to Colette.

  Colette. As he drove back to the motel, taking side streets and alleys in an effort to elude anyone who might be possibly following him, his head filled with thoughts of her.

  He’d always believed the adage that familiarity bred contempt, but that hadn’t been the case between him and Colette. Days and nights of togetherness had fostered a steaming desire, an explosive passion that had simmered to uncontrollable proportions.

  His control had snapped and complicated what should have been an easy assignment, complicated the lives of everyone involved.

  He’d vowed to himself five years before that his heart would never be touched again, and it was a promise he intended to keep. Colette would have his protection, and as long as she understood the rules, she could even experience his passion, but she’d never, ever warm his cold, hard heart.

  He parked in front of their motel room, seeing nothing amiss. Still, caution came as natural as breathing. He kept the motor running and the baby in the car seat as he got out of the car and approached the room. Pulling the key from his pocket, he placed an ear to the door.

  He wasn’t concerned about her getting loose and calling the local law. His authority far exceeded theirs and they would only remand her back into his custody. What did worry him was that if she’d managed to call the law, who else might have heard telltale radio transmissions? The one mistake Hank knew better than to make was to underestimate Cameron Collier.

  He heard no sounds emanating from inside the room, had no whisper of danger walk up his back. His instincts all proclaimed it safe and he had learned long ago to depend on his unscientific but nearly faultless instincts.

  It took him only moments to shut off the car, gather Brook and the packages from the back seat, and open the motel room door.

  Colette remained in the same position he’d left her, her eyes shooting anger and resentment as he entered. He placed the baby and the shopping bags on the other bed, then quickly untied Colette from her bonds. She sat up and rubbed her wrists, her eyes steady on him. “It was enough that you took my baby with you, you didn’t have to tie me up like a steer.”

  “If I’d thought it unnecessary, I wouldn’t have done it,” he replied as he wrapped the phone cord in a small bundle and shoved it into his pocket. He gestured to the packages on the bed. “I picked up the stuff for the kid, and I also bought a couple T-shirts and jogging pants so you’d have a change of clothes.”

  “You’re so good to me,” Colette returned sarcastically.

  He sank down on the edge of his bed, suddenly exhausted. The past months of not knowing where Colette was, if she were still alive, or if Collier had gotten to her, had stretched his nerves.

  Now that she was where she needed to be, he didn’t want to fight with her. He didn’t want to have to watch not only her back, but his own, as well, worrying about whether she’d run or not.

  As she opened a can of the formula and prepared a bottle for the baby, Hank absently rubbed a hand across his forehead where a band of tension pressed painfully. Why couldn’t she just cooperate with him? It would be so much easier if he could trust her, so he could go in and take a hot shower, then get a couple hours of deep sleep without worrying about her sneaking out and d
isappearing once again.

  “Shouldn’t you heat that or something?” he asked as she finished preparing the bottle and picked up Brook.

  “It isn’t necessary. The formula is sterile and room temperature.”

  Brook was in her arms, drinking from a bottle and for a moment the picture of mother and child caused a strange warmth to suffuse him.

  Colette’s head was bent, her hair forming a curtain of brown silk as she smiled down at the baby. He’d never seen Colette look so soft. It was as if the mere act of feeding her child created a peace in her that transcended any other problems she might face.

  There were things he needed to explain to her, things that he hoped would make her realize she had to trust him, make her reluctant to run. But he remained silent, loath to shatter the momentary peace she’d found.

  He knew he should look away from her, but like the moon pulled the tides, something about the scene drew him. As he watched, Colette rubbed a finger across Brook’s cheek, then laughed and murmured something too low for Hank to hear.

  He’d seen Colette’s eyes filled with anger, snapping with impatience and glazed with frightened tears, but in the time they’d been together, he’d never seen her so softly vulnerable, so filled with tenderness. He suddenly felt threatened, bewitched by the heat that swirled inside him, the beauty of her loving smile.

  “We need to talk,” he said, his voice louder than intended, smashing the momentary quiet of the room.

  “So talk.” Her eyes flashed annoyance and an edge of relief swept through Hank. Annoyance was good. Irritation was good. Far better to deal with those emotions than the alien ones she’d stirred moments before.

  She placed the baby at her shoulder and patted her back, looking at him expectantly.

  “Colette, I don’t think you fully understand the danger you’re in, the fact that if you escape from me you’ll probably end up dead. Until we get to California, your only hope for staying alive is to remain with me.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze remaining on her. “Think about it. You have no money, no memory of friends to turn to for help. How long can you survive on your own with the baby, hiding from killers?” He could tell he was getting to her. She half flinched beneath each statement of fact. “I can’t tell you how dangerous Cameron Collier is. He’s powerful enough to find you no matter where you try to hide.”