by Cynthia Eden
Okay. So maybe he would beat the hell out of the guy. Davis rolled his wrists. “And that’s one of the reasons you lied about her, isn’t it? Because she dumped you, and you didn’t take so well to rejection. So why not get back at her and make some cash at the same time?”
Sean staggered back a step. “No, no, I—”
But Davis had already crossed the room and shoved the guy back against the wall. “I’m an enemy you don’t want. I have more connections than could you dream of.” His voice was low, guttural. “I haven’t spent the last ten years of my life in some office, screwing around when it suited me. I’ve been a SEAL. I’ve seen hell you can’t imagine.” He could feel the tremble shaking the man. “And if you ever do anything to hurt Jamie again, I will bring that hell to your door. I will give you nightmares that you can’t escape, no matter how hard you try.”
The door swung open behind them. “Dr. Nyle, I’ve got— What’s happening?”
Ah, so the receptionist had just realized he wasn’t an old friend.
“This won’t be the last time you see me,” Davis told him. “Because I’m going to make certain you’re paid back for every bit of pain you gave to Jamie.”
“I—I’m sorry—”
“Too late for that. You’d better just pray that jerk hunting her doesn’t so much as bruise her skin. Because if something happens to her—” Davis stared into the guy’s eyes and saw the terror blooming there “—you’re done.”
“Should I call the cops?” the receptionist squeaked.
“Yeah, do that.” Davis shoved away from Sean. “And ask for Detective Carl Musata. He’s a real close friend. I bet he’d just love to learn all about the doctor’s close association to a murderer.”
“What?” Now she wasn’t squeaking. She was screaming.
Davis smiled at Sean. “I’ll be seeing you.” Then he stalked out, because if he didn’t leave—right then—he might give in to his darker urges and take that guy down. And spending the night in lockup wasn’t on his agenda. He wanted to get back to Jamie. He needed to get back to her.
When he marched out to his rental car, the sunlight hit him, far too warm for this time of the year. He yanked out his phone and had Sullivan on the line seconds later.
“Man, I just landed,” Sullivan said. “Your timing is as good as always—”
“Henry’s father has been looking for Jamie.” He couldn’t keep the fury out of his voice. As quickly as possible, he filled Sullivan in on the details of how Sean had found Jamie and about how the guy had sold her out again. “Nyle handed over her new name,” he finished, the words curt. “He just gave her up.”
And from there, hell, Garrison wouldn’t have even needed to hire his own PI. A simple internet search would have led him right to Jamie.
“Why is the father after her?” Sullivan asked. “I thought the son was the one with the obsession.”
Davis slid into his car. “Sean said the guy was worried about her.”
Sullivan swore. “You think Garrison knew his son was still fixated on her.”
Yes. “I think I want to know exactly where Henry Westport is right now. I want you to get eyes on him.” And he wanted to get back to Jamie, as fast as he could. “I’m going to call Mac. I need him to stay with her. This mess is a powder keg, and the last thing I want...” He exhaled heavily. “I don’t want it to explode on her.”
* * *
JAMIE HAD A new lover. A man who seemed desperate for her. A man who was used to violence.
A man who was in his way.
Davis McGuire thought he was indestructible. All of the McGuires seemed to think they were a cut above everyone else.
They were wrong. They were human. They could be hurt. They could bleed. They could die. Just like everyone else.
The hit-and-run had been a mistake. He should have stayed there and finished the man off. But he hadn’t expected Davis to recover so quickly.
I won’t be caught off guard again.
This time, he’d be better prepared.
He would learn Davis’s weakness. Learn all of the weaknesses for the McGuires...because Jamie had brought the whole family into their web. She was trying to get her protectors lined up, but it wouldn’t matter if she had an army at her side.
He’d found her, and she wasn’t going to get away. She was going to suffer. She would pay for everything that she’d done. She wouldn’t get away scot-free.
Not this time. Not ever again.
Jamie was so good at luring men to her. So good at playing the innocent. But he’d learned the truth about her over the years. She was a liar. She didn’t care about anyone or anything but herself.
She certainly didn’t care about her new lover. She was using him, just as she’d used the other one. So many people thought Jamie was innocent, perfect. A victim.
She was so much more.
And she’s mine.
Every wicked inch of her.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE you’re all right?” Mac asked as he hesitated near the front of the guesthouse. He was standing on the narrow porch, his gaze on Jamie.
She smiled at him. Despite his fierce reputation, Mac was pretty sweet, she thought. He’d been a silent shadow for most of her day, and, yes, he looked rather intimidating—she thought it would be hard for an ex-Delta Force guy like him to look exactly warm and cuddly, but he’d been more than a perfect gentleman. “I’m fine.” Jamie gestured around her. “I’ve got the security of the McGuire ranch. How could I not be safe?”
The porch light shone down on them, and she saw the sadness flicker over his face. “Not even being out here can keep everyone safe.”
She hadn’t talked with Davis a lot about his parents, but she knew how much their death had hurt the entire McGuire clan. She could see the pain on Mac’s face. “I’m sorry,” Jamie said. “So sorry about what happened to your parents.”
His smile was bittersweet. “You always think there is plenty of time for things. Later. You can say the things you meant to say...later. Do the things...later. But what if later doesn’t come?”
Her arms wrapped around her stomach. There had been so much she’d wanted to tell her brother, and she never got the chance. “I heard that a few months ago... Ty Watts was arrested.” That story had sure dominated the news for a while. Ty had been Mark Montgomery’s ranch foreman, his right-hand man. The guy had also been stalking Ava. Ty had been obsessed with the woman for years, and he’d been determined to take her away from Mark. Even if he had to kill Ava in order to do it.
She’d been transfixed by the story because she’d understood—too well—the fear and horror Ava must have felt.
His face hardened. “The creep is locked up, where he belongs.”
“Is it true...” She fumbled, not wanting to be a gossip, but the question wouldn’t stay quiet. “Was he out here the night your parents were killed? Did he really see the men who attacked them?” Because that had been the rumor. Ty had offered to give up the killers, in exchange for a deal.
A deal the McGuires hadn’t wanted to accept.
“Ty Watts is a liar and a killer. You can’t believe the things that he says.” His lips thinned. “Yeah, he was spouting that story, but we had...connections we could use to check him out.”
“Connections?”
“His cell mate.”
Her brows rose.
“For the right money,” Mac told her, “you can get people to do anything.”
Jamie shivered. She knew his words were true. Money had exchanged hands, and her life had crumbled.
“He’s been with Ty for a while now, and so far, it’s looking like Ty’s story is pure bull. Just his desperate attempt at leverage. He said he was at the ranch, watching Ava—always watching her—but he has no concrete evidence to gi
ve us about that night, and the last thing we would do is bargain with that guy when our sister’s safety is on the line.”
Right. Because that mattered to the McGuires. For an instant, Jamie thought of her own parents. Her mother’s gaze had seemed so accusing at Warren’s funeral. Jamie had been numb that day. As she’d watched his casket slowly lower into the ground, Jamie had felt as if she’d died, too. Her body had been leaden, and she’d just stayed there, helpless to walk away.
Her father and mother had left her there. Everyone had left.
And then, so much later, when the US Marshal had appeared, offering her a chance at a new life, he’d told her that she would have to leave on her own. That she’d have to cut the connections to her family.
What connections?
I took his offer. I didn’t look back.
Or, at least, she hadn’t, not until the past came looking for her.
“Have a good night, Jamie,” Mac told her as he gave a little salute. Then he turned away.
“Have you heard from Davis?” Because she hadn’t. She’d thought of calling him, but if he was still with Sean...
Mac glanced back at her. “Yes.” There was a new, tense note in his voice.
“He’s okay, then?”
“He’s on his way back to you.”
Her shoulders slumped a bit. She hadn’t even realized they were tight.
“He has some things he needs to tell you,” Mac continued in that same slightly stilted voice. It was a voice that told her he already knew exactly what Davis wanted to talk with her about—and he didn’t think Jamie was going to like what Davis had to say.
She stared at him, and, with a sinking heart, she knew.
Sean sold me out again.
Some people never changed.
“Good night,” Mac told her again.
She stepped back. Closed the door. Made sure she locked it securely. But she didn’t head for the bedroom. She grabbed her laptop—a new one that Sylvia had picked up for her—and booted up the machine. Then she went right back to the search that had consumed her whenever she’d had a free moment at the clinic.
A search for Henry Westport. The world was such an open book now, thanks to the internet. You could learn so much about a person. You could take a glimpse right into someone’s life.
I want to see your life, Henry. I want to see where you are. What you’re doing.
Because some people never truly did change. And some people, some people just became even more twisted with the passage of time.
* * *
SULLIVAN STARED AT the Westport estate. A huge, sprawling place. One that shouted old money and power. Guards were positioned at the main gate. He’d already counted four security cameras. If you wanted in that place, then you definitely had to announce your presence and get the official invitation.
Or else you’d just get kicked to the curb.
Henry Westport was supposed to be inside that estate. So far, Sullivan had seen no sign of the man at all. Not of Henry...and not of Henry’s father, Garrison.
But the night was young, and he wasn’t about to go anywhere, not until he’d laid eyes on Henry. He wanted to see for himself if Henry was truly up in Connecticut...
Of if you’re down in Texas, terrorizing Jamie.
He settled in, got comfortable, and he made his plans.
* * *
A FAINT KNOCK sounded at her door. Jamie’s head whipped up, and she blinked blearily. She’d been staring at that computer screen for hours. She’d gotten lost, reading articles, digging into old news stories...and now Jamie saw that it was nearing midnight.
The knock came again. Faint. She rose to her feet and crept toward the door.
“Jamie, it’s me.”
Her creep turned into a hurried rush as she recognized Davis’s voice. She flipped the locks and yanked open the door.
He filled the doorway. Big and strong and—Davis. She was so happy to see him that she didn’t even hesitate. She just threw her arms around him and held tight. “I’m glad you’re back.”
He stiffened against her, and Jamie realized—oh, no, maybe it was too much. Or maybe he’d learned something from Sean, some lie that had made him doubt her. She tried to pull back.
But his arms locked around her, and he held her even more tightly. “Glad to be back.”
And she felt warm. Good.
Happy.
I missed him. He was only gone for hours, but I missed him.
They made it fully into the guesthouse, and Davis shut the door. His gaze slid around the room, lingering on her new laptop. The screen was up, and it was easy to view the title of the article she’d been reading.
Westport Heir Overcomes Dark Past.
“Everyone likes a comeback story,” she said, shifting a bit nervously from foot to foot. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” The reporter had certainly been impressed by Henry. She’d talked about his struggles, but never specifically mentioned just why Henry had wound up receiving psychiatric counseling. The reporter had glossed over that whole murder and stalking bit.
“You might want to sit down,” Davis told her.
Why? She already knew he wasn’t about to tell her good news. “I’m fine standing.” Then Jamie shook her head. “Look, just tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. Really.” She knew someone was after her. She knew—
“He sold you out again.”
Right.
She’d known that, too.
“Sean Nyle has a new office, a fancy new car...”
Oh, she’d seen him with a fancy car once before.
“And he told me that he saw you a few months back. At a convention in Houston.”
Her heart sank at that news. She hadn’t seen him. She’d thought she was safe attending a regional event. She’d thought, Maybe I don’t have to hide so long, all the time. She’d been wrong.
“According to Sean, Garrison Westport sought him out about a month ago. He wanted to know about you, and Sean told him everything he knew.”
“For the right price,” Jamie mumbled. And to think, she’d once believed they were friends. She’d thought that Sean cared about her. “Do you know—” now she turned from Davis and began to pace “—how much it hurts to know I was so wrong about someone, twice?” Sure, Sean hadn’t come after her with a knife, but he’d been more than willing to throw her under the bus or to offer her up to a killer. And her parents had done the same thing. “Why?” Jamie asked. “Why don’t I matter?”
That was a question that her seventeen-year-old self had wondered too many times, and she hadn’t meant to blurt those words out. They were her secret shame. Her pain. Her—
He caught her arm and spun Jamie around to face him. “You do matter. Sean...he doesn’t. He’s a piece of crap who isn’t worth your time. You matter, Jamie. You’re good and smart and strong. You matter a whole damn lot.”
Her breath caught as she searched his eyes.
“I’ve spent years being obsessed,” he said. “Consumed with the desire to find the people who killed my parents. I didn’t think past that point. Didn’t even try to move on...and then I saw you. Walking to the stables. The sun shining on your hair.”
She couldn’t have spoken then if her life depended on it.
“Things started to change for me. And the more I learned about you, the more I kept changing. I didn’t want my life to just be about the dead any longer.”
And she didn’t want her life to just be about fear.
“I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to be with you.” His fingers slid down her arm in a light caress that made goose bumps rise on her skin. “That’s still what I want. You matter, Jamie. You matter so much, to me.” His face was intense, his gaze warm with emotion.
For the fi
rst time in longer than she cared to remember, Jamie felt a stirring of hope inside her chest. Hope that maybe things could be different for her. “I wish I’d met you a long time ago.”
“You have me now, and, sweetheart, I’m not going anyplace.”
Neither was she. Jamie stared into his gaze and made that decision. No more running. No more hiding. She wasn’t going to keep looking over her shoulder. She’d face the threat out there. She’d overcome it. And she would be happy.
Because Davis was right there with her, offering her a glimpse of the future—a future she wanted. A life that she could have. One that wasn’t about fear and the pain from betrayals long past.
One that was about something fresh.
Something that might be love?
Her gaze slid to his lips. Sensual lips. He’d kissed her, stroked every inch of her, and he’d given her so much pleasure that her body had quaked. She wanted that again. She wanted him again. So she reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and she kissed him. She poured all of her passion into that kiss, all of the emotions that she felt but couldn’t name.
And the heat was there, flaring between them. Rising to engulf her because when they touched, when they kissed, the electric connection surged between them.
She could wish they’d met sooner. She could wish her life had been different.
Or she could just enjoy being in the moment with him.
Her tongue slid over the curve of his lower lip. Then she bit that lip, a light, sensual tug, and when he growled, she smiled.
“I’m glad you’re back with me,” Jamie told him. And I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore. Together, they’d face the challenges that came their way.
He pulled her closer. Her toes brushed over his boots. She wore a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt, and he had on his jeans and a dark shirt, a shirt that made his skin appear even more golden, his hair darker.