Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe
Page 18
As she recalled, that conversation had ended badly, with Jesse talking about her lifestyle when she’d been the wife of Denver’s district attorney. A lifestyle when she had everything she wanted. A lifestyle that no longer suited her.
When he slid behind the steering wheel, she said, “At least stay with me for tonight. I’ll arrange for a babysitter. It’ll be just you and me. I deserve that much. One night with you.”
He fired up the engine. “That’s not good enough.”
Anger clenched around her heart. As he looked over his shoulder to back up, she yanked at the steering wheel. “We’re not going anywhere until you explain yourself.”
His mouth formed a hard, straight line, but he wasn’t angry. Regret and pain registered in his eyes. “I want more than one night with you, Fiona. I want a lifetime. I want to be the love of your life. Your only love.”
“Is this about Wyatt? About the fact that I was happily married before?”
“I can never be as right for you as he was. I can’t compete with a ghost.”
“Oh, Jesse.” She wasn’t sure whether to cry or laugh or knock him over the head. “Wyatt is a memory. You’re real. Flesh and blood and one-hundred-percent real. You’re the man I want beside me in bed.”
“But you’ll never stop thinking about Wyatt.”
“I won’t forget him.” He had been a vital part of her life, the father of her child. “But that was a different time. A different place. I guess, I’m different now.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You saw it,” she reminded him. “The way I’m changing.”
“And I liked what I saw.” Finally, he grinned. “I’m an ass.”
“But a very, very sexy one.”
“Promise me more than one night.”
“As long as you want. I love you.”
“I love you, Fiona.” His voice was a smoky whisper. “We were meant to walk together through life. It’s our path.”
“A different path than either of us has ever walked before. Every step of the way is brand-new.”
He kissed her, sealing their understanding, underlining the promise. “About tonight.”
“We will be together,” she promised. “Let’s finish up here in town. Then we can get started on the rest of our life.”
JESSE COULDN’T BELIEVE how neatly everything seemed to be falling into place. The kidnapping was almost solved. And, more important, he understood his relationship with Fiona. All it took was one simple word: love.
He hadn’t been this happy in a long time. Maybe never. This was why he’d come back from death. To find her. To discover the possibility of a new life.
“I think you missed the turn,” she said. “Again.”
Riverton wasn’t a big town, but he’d managed to get lost twice on the way to Nate’s house. “I must be distracted.”
“In a good way?”
“Very good.”
He doubled back and found the right road at the edge of town. Along this dead-end street, the small houses were set wide apart. Three in a row appeared to be vacant.
“This one.” She pointed.
The one-story cottage had a peaked roof, but the square footage was hardly bigger than a trailer. There was a small barn and empty corral beside it. Lights shone from the house on the opposite side of the street where a truck was parked at the curb, but Nate’s house was dark.
Jesse’s cell phone rang. It was Burke.
He answered quickly. “What happened?”
“We found her.” Burke’s voice was jubilant. “We’ve got her. Nicole’s okay.”
“The ransom?”
“Not located yet.”
“What about Nate?”
“We’re still looking for him. Got to go. See you back at the ranch.”
Jesse clicked his phone closed and gave Fiona the good news.
With a joyful whoop, she threw off her seat belt and climbed onto his lap. In the space of one minute, she must have kissed him sixty times. She was crazy-happy. Impulsive. Intuitive. Beautiful. Damn, he loved this woman.
“But no ransom,” he said.
She jumped off his lap and opened her car door. “Maybe we’ll find it inside.”
In her excitement, she’d forgotten the standard security procedures he’d lectured her about. As he watched her dash toward the dark, little house, a sense of foreboding rose up inside him. He drew his weapon. “Fiona, wait!”
She halted and turned. The dim glow of a streetlight on the corner illuminated her features. Her beautiful face.
He strode toward her. “You need to do what I say.”
Instead of arguing, she nodded. “I got a little carried away.”
He was tempted to bundle her into the car and drive away. Let somebody else search Nate’s house. But the ransom hadn’t yet been found. It was his job to follow every lead.
He walked beside her on the packed-earth driveway.
“How are we going to get inside?” she asked.
It’d be easy enough to break a window or pick the door lock. When he prowled around to the rear of the house, he discovered that neither procedure was necessary. The back door had been kicked open. “Somebody got here before us.”
“Richter,” she said.
And he could be inside the house. Time to call for backup.
Before Jesse could pull his cell phone from his pocket, he heard a sound. It came from overhead.
He looked up. Saw the glint of a weapon. A man crouched on the slanted roof.
He grabbed Fiona and threw her toward the house. She’d be hidden under the eaves.
Gunfire exploded. Four shots.
It seemed impossible that the gunman had missed. They were less than twenty yards apart. It’s not my time to die. I have too much to live for.
Without taking aim, he returned fire. He dodged to the left, tried to get a better angle.
Heavy shadows hid the shooter as he scrambled up the incline toward the peak of the roof. His outline seemed misshapen, like a hunchbacked gargoyle.
Jesse fired again. He heard a groan.
The man on the roof stumbled. His gun clattered down from the eaves and hit the dirt in front of where Fiona was standing. She darted out from her hiding place and picked up the weapon.
“Give it up,” Jesse called up to the man on the roof. “You haven’t got a chance.”
“I should have killed you the first time.”
It was Richter, that son of a bitch. “Raise your hands.”
He did exactly that. Jesse saw him clearly. He wore a mountaineering backpack. The ransom. In his right fist, Richter held a hand ax.
Time stood still.
Everything went into slow motion.
Jesse saw Richter draw back his arm. The ax hurled toward him, flipping end over end. The blade aimed at his chest, directly at his heart.
He heard Fiona scream.
Jesse hit the dirt.
The effort of flinging the ax threw Richter off balance. He slid down the roof, crashed to the ground.
Jesse leaped to his feet, but Fiona got there first. She stood over the man who had terrorized her with her weapon pointed in his face.
She growled, “Don’t move or I’ll shoot.”
Jesse believed her. Gentle, sweet Fiona had changed a lot in three days.
LATER THAT NIGHT, Fiona stepped through the door to her bedroom. Her hair was brushed to a sheen and she wore her best peignoir of pale blue satin. Jesse was already in her bed. The light of a dozen candles cast enticing shadows on his bared chest.
Abby was spending the night with Andrea at the Carlisle Ranch. There were no bodyguards or ranch hands circling the perimeter of her property. Finally, she and Jesse were alone.
She walked slowly toward the bed. The satin swished around her hips. Almost everything had worked out perfectly. Nicole was exhausted but unhurt. Richter was in police custody. In his backpack was most of the ransom money. They’d found Zeke O’Toole, tied up and scared but still alive. N
ate Miller, unfortunately, was still at large.
She sat on the bed and drew a line down the center of Jesse’s chest. “When I saw that ax flying through the air toward you, I thought it was over.”
“No way would I die before tonight.” His grin was slow and sexy. “I had to outsmart death. To get to you.”
“This is where you’re meant to be.”
He pulled her close. “With you, Fiona. Forever.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4320-4
BODYGUARD UNDER THE MISTLETOE
Copyright © 2009 by Kay Bergstrom
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