Eva swallowed hard as a horrible thought suddenly occurred to her. “Why does the cartel think I would have an idea where Drew might have stashed the money?”
“To answer your question, in law enforcement, when a husband steals large amounts of money, the wife usually is in on it.”
“In law enforcement? How would you know?” she asked, genuinely interested.
“I watch a lot of TV,” he countered, shrugging. “And if the cartel truly suspected you, they’d go to your father. Three million dollars isn’t enough to jeopardize a profitable business relationship like they have with him.”
“It’s not? To me, three million dollars is a lot of money. I just want this to stop. All of it. I want my life back. I don’t understand why the police are not getting anywhere on locating this guy. Seriously.”
Jesse nodded. “I agree. Like I said, I’ll make some phone calls in the morning. Come back to bed.”
The sexy rasp in his voice made her go weak inside.
* * *
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Dear Reader,
I’ve always had a thing for bikers. There. I’ve said it. So when Jesse Wyman came to me, working undercover while posing as a member of a biker club, it was like Double Jeopardy! And Eva Rowson, daughter of the head of one of the most powerful biker gangs in Texas, is more than his match.
I enjoyed writing this story. What’s not to love? Bikers, an assassin, political aspirations and two people who were meant to be together, if only they can get past the things keeping them apart. From one action-packed moment to another, all while they fight a powerful connection that could derail everything, I hope you will adore Jesse and Eva’s tale as much as I do.
Thank you for being a dedicated reader. I appreciate you.
Karen Whiddon
THE WIDOW’S BODYGUARD
Karen Whiddon
Karen Whiddon started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the gorgeous Catskill Mountains, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen now lives in north Texas, writes full-time and volunteers for a boxer dog rescue. She shares her life with her hero of a husband and four to five dogs, depending on if she is fostering. You can email Karen at [email protected]. Fans can also check out her website, karenwhiddon.com.
Books by Karen Whiddon
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
The CEO’s Secret Baby
The Cop’s Missing Child
The Millionaire Cowboy’s Secret
Texas Secrets, Lovers’ Lies
The Rancher’s Return
The Texan’s Return
Wyoming Undercover
The Texas Soldier’s Son
Texas Ranch Justice
Snowbound Targets
The Widow’s Bodyguard
The Coltons of Mustang Valley
Colton’s Last Stand
The Coltons of Roaring Springs
Colton’s Rescue Mission
The Coltons of Red Ridge
Colton’s Christmas Cop
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my family, both near and far. I love you dearly.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Excerpt from High-Stakes Bounty Hunter by Melinda Di Lorenzo
Chapter 1
Eva Rowson stood smiling next to her husband, Drew, wondering how it could be possible that no one could see the misery behind her facade. Now that Drew had announced his run for governor of the great state of Texas, she’d had no choice but to join him in the limelight despite the fact that in private they were virtual strangers and had been for years.
Drew had given her little choice in the matter. In fact, when he’d handed her the list of appearances he’d had his assistant type up, he’d informed her that this was what he’d bought and paid for by marrying her. While she’d had no idea what he’d meant, she knew he’d intended his remark to be insulting, so she didn’t let on that it bothered her. She simply accepted the paper and turned and walked away, aware the only reaction that would please him would be her unhappiness.
She couldn’t blame him. They’d married each other for reasons that had nothing to do with love. Drew had made no secret of the fact that he planned to live his own, separate life and had informed her she was free to do the same, as long as she was discreet.
Instead, she’d focused all her energy on her son, Liam. Now two, he kept her on her toes. He was the light of her life, an ever-constant source of joy that most days was enough.
Looking out over the crowd, she saw they appeared to be eating up Drew’s words, cheering and clapping as if they thought he might be announcing the second coming.
Her wide, fake smile began to wobble around the edges. She sucked in a breath between her teeth, steadying herself. Heaven help her if Drew watched the video later and saw the slightest slipup.
As she stared out over the sea of rapt faces, all of whom had paid over a thousand dollars to be here, she tried not to think about how the sky-high pair of Louboutins were killing her feet. The speech part of the evening should be wrapping up soon and then they’d move on to the gala itself, which would involve food and dancing at least once with her husband while they both pretended to be an adoring couple.
Too much more of this and she thought she might be sick.
She heard the sharp crack of the gunshot a second before someone slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. Jesse, her bodyguard. “Don’t move,” he ordered, physically holding her down.
Dazed, she struggled to catch her breath, absently realizing one of her shoes had gone flying off, even as pandemonium broke out in the crowd. People began screaming and fighting their way toward the exits.
“Drew’s been shot,” Jesse told her, shifting his body slightly, just enough so he could haul her up and drag her off the stage. “Stay with me.” They made it all the way to the back room where earlier she and Drew had sat for makeup before Jesse’s words registered.
“Wait, what?” Struggling against his hold, she twisted enough so she could see the circle of people huddled over the spot where her husband had been standing. Jesse, who had until today managed to avoid touching her, kept a firm grip on her arm.
“You don’t need to see that,” he said.
“I think I do.” Glaring at him, she tried to pull herself away but he wouldn’t release her. “Let me go.”
“I’m not sure if the shooter’s been apprehended,” he growled, his espresso-colored eyes locking with hers. For one heartbeat, two, she couldn’t look away. “My job is to protect you, and by damn that’s what I’m going to do.”
Out in the crowd, the stampede hadn’t died down. Into the wave of panicked people trying to get out, paramedics and law enforcement rushed in.
“Where’s the shooter?” one of the officers yelled. No one paid him any attention, too fixated on making their way to safety. The police fanned out, some helping the crowd escape, others clearly searching.
To Eva’s relief, there were no more gunshots.
“He probably got away,” Jesse groused, sounding thoroughly disgusted.
“Let me go check on Drew.” This time, when she yanked her arm, he released his grip. Stumbling backward, she kicked off her other heel and hurried over to the group forming a protective ring around her husband. Paramedics had already forced their way through to him, and as she approached, she could see them trying to work their magic on Drew’s bloody and motionless body.
“Stay back,” one of them barked.
“I’m his wife,” she replied. Unbelievably, on the fringe of people watching, she saw several raise their phones, clearly videotaping.
Ignoring them, she dropped to her knees at Drew’s side. Behind her, Jesse continued to scan the auditorium, just in case the shooter remained out there and ready to take her out too.
One paramedic had begun CPR. The other held Drew’s wrist, searching for a pulse.
“Is he...?” Swallowing hard, for whatever reason Eva found herself glancing over her shoulder at Jesse, as if he could help her find the word.
“Let us work, ma’am,” one of the EMTs said tersely. Two more men appeared with a stretcher and they loaded Drew up on it. Eva stood frozen, not sure what to do, when Jesse took her elbow and led her after the paramedics.
The crowd parted for them. Again, she couldn’t help but notice all the raised cell phones. She wouldn’t be surprised if some of them weren’t already livestreaming on social media.
None of that mattered right now.
Outside, Drew had already been loaded up into the ambulance. Instead of immediately leaving, it sat idling. She supposed they were trying to stabilize him before they set off for the ER.
“This isn’t good,” Jesse murmured. It was then that she realized what he meant. Could it be possible the reason the ambulance wasn’t rushing to get to the hospital was because Drew was already dead?
Staring in stunned shock, she watched as the ambulance finally drove off. No lights or sirens. “Does that mean he’s...” Words failed her.
“I don’t know. Come on.” Jesse steered her to her car, a silver Range Rover. She’d come in her own vehicle, making Jesse ride in the passenger seat. She hadn’t wanted to travel with the group of people who made up Drew’s entourage. She wondered where all those people were now.
“Keys, please.” Jesse held out his hand. Numb, she dug in her purse and handed them over. Moving woodenly, she settled into the front passenger seat, robotically securing her seat belt.
Though so far she’d managed to ignore Jesse, the bodyguard she assumed Drew had assigned to her out of spite, she couldn’t actually do that right now.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, nothing but concern in his tone.
She decided to answer honestly. “I don’t know.” She actually wasn’t sure how she felt. While she didn’t love Drew and had in fact asked him for a divorce, she wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Not even her worst enemy.
“I refuse to assume the worst,” she declared, lifting her chin and staring straight ahead. Jesse didn’t need to know any of the particulars of her complicated marriage. She actually wondered why he’d even accepted the job offer from Drew. What kind of man agreed to become a bodyguard to the woman who’d broken his heart?
* * *
Jesse drove fast but safely to the hospital, able to keep the ambulance in his sights. He wasn’t sure what to make of Eva’s reaction. Maybe she’d gone into shock. The woman he’d known for years had always been demonstrative and dramatic, quick with a tear or a smile or a hug. Now Eva seemed to have become smaller somehow, withdrawn, as if she did all of her living in a place no one else could ever visit. Yet none of this even slightly diminished his desire for her. He doubted anything could.
Jesse had been in his new position as Eva’s personal bodyguard for three weeks, which worked out since the ATF had gotten leads that Eva’s husband, Drew, had been laundering money for the Mexican drug cartels, along with the Brothers of Sin’s help. Rumor had it that Drew had his own huge stash of dirty money hidden. They’d been trying to figure out a way to get someone undercover near him when Raul, head of BOS, had sent Jesse to become his daughter’s bodyguard.
Eva had, of course, kept her distance. Jesse tried not to watch her too long, though he found that once he did, he had the same trouble dragging his gaze away. She was still beautiful inside and out, and kind, with a soft, sexy voice and the same sensual grave to her movements. But she rarely laughed, and her self-composure made her seem almost robotic. He didn’t like it. The idea that marriage to Drew had done this to her tore his heart. And worse, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change things.
From what he’d seen, Drew and Eva didn’t have a close marriage. Part of him had been glad to see Eva’s uncharacteristic lack of passion. Because late at night, when Jesse couldn’t sleep, her passion had been all he’d been able to think about.
Finally, they pulled into the hospital parking lot. The ambulance sat in the ER bay. By the time Jesse parked, he felt sure Drew’s body had already been unloaded.
Inside, they were directed to a waiting room, despite Eva’s insistence that she be allowed to see her husband. She dropped into one of the metal-and-cloth chairs with a little huff, her arms crossed and her expression inscrutable.
Jesse took a seat next to her. He didn’t speak, as he wasn’t sure what exactly to say. He could offer words of comfort, but would she even want to hear them coming from him? Once he and Eva had never had a problem relating to each other, but these days neither of them seemed able to bridge the distance.
Which, of course, was how it should be. After all, Eva had left him for another man. She’d moved to Anniversary, met and married Drew in a whirlwind courtship, and had gotten pregnant. Her son was now two. Until he’d accepted this job offer to become her bodyguard, Jesse hadn’t seen or heard from her in nearly three years.
“Why won’t they let me back there?” Eva muttered, so quietly she almost might have been talking to herself.
Instinct had him aching to put his arm around her and pull her close, but since he no longer had that right, he didn’t. “I’m sure someone will come out soon and tell you what’s going on.”
As if on cue, a harried-looking woman in a white lab coat came through the double doors. “Mrs. Rowson?”
Eva jumped to her feet. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Linwood. Please come with me.” The doctor went to a door with a brass plate reading Family Consultation. Opening the door, she led the way inside. When Eva followed, Jesse went right behind her.
Inside, a slightly scarred dark wooden conference table occupied the entire room. The doctor took the chair nearest the door, gesturing that they should sit as she closed the door behind them.
“Mrs. Rowson, I’m sorry. Your husband didn’t make it.”
Jesse braced himself, aching for her. Surely now Eva would begin wailing, carrying on about the unfairness of life, swearing and pounding the table in her grief.
Instead, she frowned and gave a collected nod. “I suspected as much,” she said, looking away. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Damn. Jesse wasn’t sure how to react to Eva’s stiff composure.
Even the doctor seemed disconcerted by the new widow’s lack of grief. “He didn’t suffer,” she offered. “The gunshot wound to the heart killed him instantly.”
“I see.” For a moment, Eva looked down. When she raised her chin again, her expression had settled into one of steely resignation. “I’ll need to make funeral arrangements. I’m sure the funeral home will contact you once I have.”
Dr. Linwood nodded, her gaze fixing on Jesse briefly before returning to Eva. “Again, you have my deepest sympathy. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Thank you.” Both Jesse and Eva stood, watching
silently while the doctor left the room.
Eva’s eyes were dry. Heart aching for her, he wondered if she would cry later, when she was alone. The thought made him sad. They’d once shared everything. He wouldn’t have minded helping her through what must be overwhelming grief.
“I’d like to go home,” Eva said, checking her watch. “I’ve left Liam with his nanny and though he’s only two, I don’t want him seeing this on the news. I need to tell him myself.”
He nodded. As they walked out into the main hospital lobby, a crowd of reporters rushed up to them, all talking at once, trying to shove microphones into Eva’s face. There were huge cameras and smaller ones, flashes going off, in short, a sort of pandemonium.
Eva’s stride faltered. Without thinking, Jesse put his arm around her shoulders and turned her into him, hiding her face. He tried not to think about how good she felt, how well she fit. She wasn’t his and hadn’t been for a long time. He was only her bodyguard. He hustled her through the crowd, and out the doors. Judging by the commotion behind them, the reporters were hot on their heels.
“Keep your head down and keep walking,” he said, releasing her. He felt the loss of her body next to his far stronger than he should have.
Amazingly, they made it to her car. Once inside, they were able to back up before the throng of people reached them.
He drove off to a blur of flashes and raised cameras.
A quick glance at Eva revealed her sitting hunched in the seat, both hands over her face. Now would come the weeping. Jesse felt almost relieved. For a few moments there, he’d come to believe that the woman he knew and had once loved, had completely vanished, replaced by a patrician statue.
But no. Instead of wailing or crying, she straightened her shoulders and put her hands neatly in her lap. When she finally spoke, her measured tone betrayed nothing, not the slightest hint of grief or pain or any other emotion. This made his chest ache.
“What are you doing here, Jesse?” she asked, exhaling in a sigh.
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