Maitland shuffled uneasily. “I...uh... I think I forgot to pack something,” he muttered, and he discreetly vanished into the bedroom.
For a moment, the only sound was the water dripping from Guy’s raincoat onto the wood floor.
“How’s your mother?” Guy asked.
“She died, five days ago.”
He shook his head. “Willy, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“How are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m...fine.” She looked away. I love you, she thought. And yet here we are, two strangers engaging in small talk. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she repeated, as though to convince him—to convince herself—that the anguish of these past two weeks had been a minor ache not worth mentioning.
“You look pretty good, considering.”
She shrugged. “You look terrible.”
“Not too surprising. Didn’t get any sleep on the plane. And there was this baby screaming in the next seat, all the way from Bangkok.”
“Bangkok?” She frowned. “You were in Bangkok?”
He nodded and laughed. “It’s this crazy business I’m in. Got home from Nam, and a week later, they asked me to fly back...for Sam Lassiter.” He paused. “I admit I wasn’t thrilled about getting on another plane, but I figured it was something I had to do.” He paused and added quietly, “No soldier should have to come home alone.”
She thought about Lassiter, about that evening in the river café, the love song scratching from the record player, the paper lanterns fluttering in the wind. She thought about his body drifting in the waters of the Mekong. And she thought about the dark-eyed woman who’d loved him. “You’re right,” she said. “No soldier should have to come home alone.”
There was another pause. She felt him watching her, waiting.
“You could have called me,” she said.
“I wanted to.”
“But you never got the chance, right?”
“I had plenty of chances.”
“But you didn’t bother?” She looked up. All the hurt, all the rage suddenly rose to the surface. “Two weeks with no word from you! And here you have the gall to show up unannounced, walk in my door and drop your damn suitcase in my living—”
The last word never made it to her lips. But he did. She was dragged into a rain-drenched embrace, and everything she’d planned to say, all the hurt and angry words, were swept away by that one kiss. The only sound she could manage was a small murmur of astonishment, and then she was whirled up in a wild maelstrom of desire. She lost all sense of where she ended and he began. She only knew, in that instant, that he had never really left her, that as long as she lived, he’d be part of her. Even as he pulled back to look at her, she was still drunk with the taste of him.
“I did want to call you. But I didn’t know what to say...”
“I kept waiting for you to call. All these days...”
“Maybe I was... I don’t know. Scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of hearing it was over. That you’d come to your senses and decided I wasn’t worth the risk. But then, when I got to Bangkok, I stopped at the Oriental Hotel. Had a drink on the terrace for old time’s sake. Saw the same sunset, the same boats on the river. But it just didn’t feel the same without you.” He sighed. “Hell, nothing feels the same without you.”
“You never told me. You just dropped out of my life.”
“It never seemed like...the right time.”
“The right time for what?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
He shook his head in irritation. “You never make it easy, do you?”
She stepped back and gave him a long, critical look. Then she smiled. “I never intended to.”
“Oh, Willy.” He threw his arms around her and pulled her tightly against his chest. “I can see you and I are going to have a lot of things to settle.”
“Such as?”
“Such as...” He lowered his mouth to hers and whispered, “Such as who gets to sleep on the right side of the bed....”
“Oh,” she murmured as their lips brushed. “You will.”
“And who gets to name our firstborn....”
She settled warmly into his arms and sighed. “I will.”
“And who’ll be first to say ‘I love you.’”
There was a pause. “That one,” she said with a smile, “is open to negotiation.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, tugging her face up to his.
They stared at each other, both longing to hear the words but stubbornly waiting for the other to give in first.
It was a simultaneous surrender.
“I love you,” Willy heard him say, just as the same three words tumbled from her lips.
Their laughter was simultaneous, too, bright and joyous and ringing with hope.
The kiss that followed was warm, seeking, but all too brief; it left her aching for more.
“It gets even better with practice,” he whispered.
“Saying ‘I love you?’”
“No. Kissing.”
“Oh,” she murmured. She added in a small voice, “Then can we try it again?”
Outside, a horn honked, dragging them both back to reality. Through the window they saw another taxi waiting at the curb.
Reluctantly Willy pulled out of Guy’s arms. “Dad?” she called.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her father emerged from the bedroom, pulling on his raincoat again. He paused and looked at her.
“Uh, why don’t you two say goodbye,” said Guy, diplomatically turning for the front door. “I’ll take your suitcase out to the car.”
Willy and her father were left standing alone in the room. They looked at each other, both knowing that this, like every goodbye, could be the last.
“Are things okay between you and Guy?” Maitland asked.
Willy nodded.
There was another silence. Then her father asked softly, “And between you and me?”
She smiled. “Things are okay there, too.” She went to him then, and they held each other. “Yes,” she murmured against his chest, “between you and me, things are definitely okay.”
A little reluctantly, he turned to leave. In the doorway, he and Guy shook hands.
“Have a good trip back, Maitland.”
“I will. Take care of things, will you? And, Guy—thanks a lot.”
“For what?”
Maitland glanced back at Willy. It was a look of regret. And redemption. “For giving me back my daughter,” he said.
As Wild Bill Maitland walked out the door, Guy walked in. He didn’t say a thing. He just took Willy in his arms and hugged her.
As the taxi drove away, she thought, My father has left me. Again.
She looked up at Guy. And what about you?
He answered her unspoken question by taking her face in his hands and kissing her. Then he gave the door a little kick; with a thud of finality, it swung shut.
And she knew that this time, the man would be staying.
* * *
Witness Protection
Barb Han
USA TODAY bestselling author Barb Han lives in north Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at barbhan.com.
Books by Barb Han
Harlequin Intrigue
An O’Connor Family Mystery
Texas Kidnapping
Texas Target
Rushing Creek Crime Spree
What She Did
&n
bsp; What She Knew
What She Saw
Crisis: Cattle Barge
Kidnapped at Christmas
Murder and Mistletoe
Bulletproof Christmas
Cattlemen Crime Club
One Tough Texan
Texas-Sized Trouble
Texas Witness
Texas Showdown
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
My deepest gratitude goes to the men and women of the US Marshals Service for their many sacrifices. A heartfelt thank-you to my editor, Allison Lyons, and my agent, Jill Marsal, because you make dreams come true. I’m still pinching myself. Brandon, Jacob and Tori, you guys inspire me every day. I love you with all my heart. To my husband, John, you are the great love of my life. And this is one heck of an adventure.
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 1
A clink against the back door of the bakery sounded again. Sadie Brooks lost her grip on the twenty-five pound sack of flour she’d held. It struck the floor and a mushroom-shaped cloud of white powder formed over the bag’s lip.
Creek Bend, Texas, was a far cry from Chicago, she reminded herself. No one from her past knew where she was. No one could hurt her. No one cared. And she was no longer Laura Kaye.
It was four-thirty in the morning in a town that rolled up the streets by eight. The noise was most likely a cat rummaging through trash. No big deal. Nothing scary.
“Only you and me are crazy enough to be up this early,” she said to her two-year-old rescue dog, Boomer, while forcing air in and out of her lungs. He didn’t so much as crack an eyelid. “And I think we both know I mean me.”
Working when everyone else slept suited Sadie just fine. She’d had very little use for daylight or people ever since she’d been kidnapped two years ago.
Yes, she still flinched at every noise. Constantly checked over her shoulder at the slightest peep. But she was always ready. Always expecting the worst. Always on guard. And yet, the past year had been peaceful. There was no reason to believe anything would change save for the all-too-real feeling in the pit of her stomach screaming otherwise.
Being constantly on alert felt a lot like parking and then leaving her high beams on. Pretty soon her battery would run out.
Boomer whined in his sleep. Her protector? Now that was funny. She’d rescued a big dog for protection. She got the Scooby Doo of golden retrievers. All he wanted to do was eat, and he wouldn’t scare away a cat. But he did make noise and his low-belly bark sounded fierce. Sadie figured it was good enough to make anyone think twice.
As she bent over to pick up the sack of white powder, another noise sent a chill skittering across her nerves. Boomer’s head cocked at the unmistakable snick of a lock. Her heart drummed against her chest.
Using the lock was good, right? That meant someone with a key was most likely standing on the other side of the door. She thought of Claire, her very pregnant boss who was her only friend. With her baby due any day, she would be asleep right now.
Boomer, shackles raised, stalked toward the stockroom to investigate.
“It’s okay, boy.” She scoured the area looking for a weapon just in case. Was there anything she could use to defend herself? To protect Boomer? She moved toward the nearest counter.
A sparkle caught her attention. Light reflected from the blade of a knife. Her fingers shook as they curled around the black plastic handle.
Then everything went dark. No lights. It was too much of a coincidence to think the breaker could’ve been tripped. This blackout was on purpose.
Boomer’s low throaty growl nearly stopped her heart. It was the same noise he made when a stranger approached the lake house. Boomer had found an intruder. And they weren’t familiar.
His barks fired like a machine gun, rapid and ear-piercing.
Sadie’s adrenaline kicked into high gear. Her fight, flight or freeze response jacked through the roof. Every instinct inside her screamed, “Run!”
But she couldn’t.
She wouldn’t leave Boomer defenseless. Could she signal to him without giving away her location? No.
What about help? Her cell? Good luck finding her purse in the pitch-black.
She crouched and felt her way behind a rack filled with pastries. A hand covered her mouth. Her fingers, which had been curled around the knife handle, flexed cold air. She had been disarmed with frightening ease.
“Shh. Don’t say a word or they’ll hear you. Be very still.” A second ticked by before she recognized the voice as Nick Campbell’s. Why in the hell would a radiologist show up at the bakery in the middle of the night?
The last time a man took her by surprise she ended up spending two weeks in the ICU with facial lacerations and cracked ribs.
Determined to break free this time, she ignored the shivers running up her arms and bit Nick’s hand.
“I said, ‘be still,’ and don’t do that again,” Nick said. His deep, quiet tone was different. Dark and dangerous. Experienced. And she knew instinctively not to push him.
With a total stranger somewhere in front of her and Nick’s big frame behind her, she was trapped.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
What on earth was he doing here? And how had he gotten in without her noticing?
Boomer’s barks mixed with growls and intensified.
Before she could wrap her brain around what was happening, Sadie felt herself being hauled toward the front door. The recollection of being snatched in daylight two years ago flooded her. His behavior brought up horrible memories. No way would Nick Campbell abduct her. Not a chance.
But what, besides a feeling that she could trust him, did she know about Nick? His brown eyes and black hair were almost always covered by a ball cap and shades. His shoulders hunkered forward, masking his true height. She hadn’t fully realized his lethal potential until he stood behind her, his masculine chest flush with her back. She was five-foot-seven and he dwarfed her. He had to be more than six feet tall. Maybe six-one?
Neither his height nor his mannerisms had intimidated her before. She’d felt a sizzle of attraction, but then most of the women in Creek Bend seemed eager to get to know him better. With his forearm locked like a vise grip around her waist, she suddenly realized just how strong and buff he truly was.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered, choking down the anger rising inside her.
“No time to explain.”
Hell if she’d wait. She wasn’t about to be caught with no means of self-preservation again. She wasn’t defenseless as she’d been before.
The first principle of judo was never to oppose strength to strength. Sadie shifted her weight enough to kick off the wall. She bucked, trying to throw him off balance while bracing herself to land on the painted concrete floor.
Didn’t work.
Strong as an ox, he’d anticipated the move and counteracted by placing his feet in an athletic stance and tightening his grip. “I’ll drag you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to, but we’ll most likely both be killed.”
“I can’t leave my dog. Boomer’s back there,” she said, hating how her voice quivered and got all shaky with fear. She’d sworn no man would make her feel defenseless again. She realized, on some level, he was there to help, but she could walk for herse
lf.
She kicked and wiggled. His grip was too tight.
It surprised her that a nerdy work-at-home radiologist knew how to counteract her martial arts moves. He also knew the back of the bakery well enough to navigate in the dark. She couldn’t even do that without bumping into something and she’d worked there for a year.
Fighting was no use. She would bide her time and break free the second the opportunity presented.
“I’ll go back for him. Once you’re safe in the truck,” he said. “Trust me.”
She snorted. “Why? Because I know so much about you?”
“I can explain everything. Once you’re out of danger.”
Bright Christmas lights lit a cloudless sky. Once they were out of the building, she could see. Nick’s expression was that of soldier on the front line.
He tucked her in the truck and then closed the door. The lock clicked. Trust him?
The door handle didn’t work. She rammed the door. All that did was hurt her shoulder. Try again and there’d be a nasty bruise. There had to be another way. She banged on the window. “Hey!”
She tried to pop the lock. Nothing.
Spinning onto her back, she used a front kick to drive the heel of her foot into the door, praying she could find the sweet spot. No good.
She scrambled to the front seat. By the time she gripped the handle, she heard a horrific boom from the alley. The bakery caught fire. She couldn’t catch her breath enough to scream.
The world closed in around her, and her stomach wrenched. Boomer!
Shattered glass littered the sidewalk. Thick black smoke bellowed from every opening.
What was left of the front door kicked open and out strode Nick, coughing, with her hundred-pound mutt in his arms.
As soon as she got a good look at him saving her dog, her heart squeezed and a voice inside her head warned, Uh-oh.
Out of the ashes and burning timber, he moved toward her, carrying her dog as if Boomer weighed nothing. Nick opened the back door of the truck and gently placed the dog on the seat.
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