by Elisabeth Naughton, Alexandra Ivy, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Laura Wright, Skye Jordan
Thankfully, his training warned him that it would be idiotic to dash into the darkness without any knowledge of the enemy. Or even how many might be lurking in the shadows.
Instead he paused, listening even as his gaze scanned the area around him. Once assured there was no one hiding nearby, he did a slow sweep of the yard.
The lights he’d left on in his apartment allowed him to easily see the tracks in the snow. He bent down. They appeared to come directly from the neighbor’s house, but that didn’t mean much. None of the houses had fences, and the low hedges would be easy to jump over.
He did, however, take notice of the fact that they were on top of those he’d left earlier, which meant the intruder hadn’t approached until they had left the house. And annoyingly, that they were much smaller than those left by the sheriff. There was no way that Brad Fulton was the mysterious shadow.
Finding the point of entry, he crawled through the open window and did a thorough search before he followed the wet footprints down the narrow stairs to the basement.
Ten minutes later, he was jogging to the truck, and tapping on Meg’s window. “It’s all clear.”
She reached across the cab to turn off the engine and pull out the key before she shoved the door open and climbed out to stand directly in front of him. Then, narrowing her gaze with suspicion, she poked him in the center of his chest.
“Okay, Dylan. Tell me what the hell is really going on.”
Chapter 4
Meg allowed Dylan to grasp her arm and lead her up the driveway and into the house that was now brightly lit, as if he’d turned on every light during his search. It was, after all, freezing cold. But the minute they were in the large living room, she tugged her arm free and wrapped her arms around her waist.
When Dylan had first charged from the truck she could think of nothing beyond her fear that he might be injured. Even a trained FBI agent could be shot. And while she wanted to believe the mysterious person who’d been troubling her over the past weeks wasn’t actually dangerous, she couldn’t deny a dark worry that it was more than a teenage vandal.
But after she’d seen Dylan enter the house, and his shadow moving from room to room, she’d begun to question his strange behavior since coming to Holly.
Okay. His career meant he was probably was more security-conscious than other people, but it didn’t explain why he’d insisted on driving her to the shop. Or why he’d been so insistent that she install a new alarm system in a town that hadn’t had more than a petty crime in decades. Not to mention treating a glimpse of a shadow as if Homeland Security should be called in.
Which meant he was well aware that someone had been bothering her.
Turning to meet her glare, he folded his arms across his chest, his expression impossible to read.
“Ask me anything you want,” he encouraged her. “I’m not going to lie.”
She tilted her chin, absolutely refusing to acknowledge just how stunningly gorgeous he looked with his long hair ruffled from the breeze and his starkly carved features outlined by the bright lights from the nearby tree.
Like a Christmas fantasy come true.
“You’ve been lying since you came to Holly,” she snapped, fiercely reminding herself that she was furious with this man. “God. I almost fell for it again. I’m so stupid.”
He frowned, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. “Don’t ever say that.”
She smacked his fingers away. “Kristen sent you.”
“No,” he swiftly denied. “Let me be very clear. I worked my ass off to finish up my caseload. It was only a matter of time before I came to Holly. End of story.” His tone was hard, uncompromising. “Kristen’s concern only changed the timetable by a few days.”
Meg gave a shake of her head. She should have known from the beginning that Kristen wouldn’t have helped Dylan fool her into renting the apartment unless it was to protect her. Her friend had been furious when she’d discovered Dylan had lied to her.
“What did she tell you?”
“That you’ve been stalked, harassed and threatened.”
Good lord. No wonder he’d overreacted.
“It hasn’t been that bad,” she muttered. “More than likely it’s just a neighborhood kid who’s bored and looking for excitement.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, as if he couldn’t believe she was that naïve.
“There was someone in your house tonight, Meg,” he growled. “Someone who was searching for something.”
She shivered. “How can you be so sure they actually came in?”
Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the side window. “An intruder entered through here.” Dylan pointed to the damp footprints that were still visible on the hardwood floor.
She took an instinctive step backward. Oh, God. If it hadn’t for Dylan she might have come home alone to find a stranger waiting in her house. The thought was horrifying.
“But why?”
Still holding her hand, he pulled her through the empty dining room and into the old pantry. It was a room that was stacked with boxes of her grandmother’s belongings that Meg hadn’t had an opportunity to take to the Goodwill.
He pulled open the door at the far end of the room. “The prints lead to the basement,” he said, keeping ahold of her hand as they headed down the narrow staircase. “Careful,” he warned as a loose board shifted beneath her feet. “I need to fix that step.”
Meg pretended she didn’t notice the way he naturally assumed it was his right to take care of honey-do’s in her house. She was still freaked out by the thought someone had been creeping around while she was gone.
“I don’t understand,” she muttered, brushing away a cobweb as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She glanced around the long room that had a dirt floor, brick walls, and an open beam ceiling. The center of the space was consumed by the ancient boiler, with a few old trunks stacked in a corner along with the washing machine she’d hoped to replace after the first of the year. “There’s nothing down here but junk.”
He sent her a grim glance. “At first I thought they might have come down here to hide until you went to sleep.”
Her heart missed a beat, her breath stuck in her lung. “Good lord.”
Releasing her hand, Dylan moved to the back wall that was shrouded in darkness. The area was out of the pool of light offered by the one bare bulb hanging from a wire.
“But now I believe someone thinks there’s something of value in here,” he said. His hand lifted to touch the deep gouges that’d been chiseled into the wall. “This damage is new.”
She moved to join him, her brows pulled together. Odd. She hadn’t noticed the strange markings before, but then again, she hadn’t really been paying attention. Truthfully, she did her best to avoid looking around when she had to do a load of laundry.
“It could have been made by the furnace company,” she suggested. She’d left the workmen to come and do their preliminary estimates without her. “They were down here measuring for the ductwork they’re going to install after Christmas.”
“Hmm.” Dylan stepped back, studying the wall. “It looks like a door used to be here. Do you know where it led?”
“I don’t…oh, wait. I remember.” Her brow furrowed as she thought back to the earlier days of moving into this house. A lot of those days were too muddled with grief to actually recall, but she did have a distinct memory of Edgar Donaldson tromping up and down the stairs with loads of bricks. “There was an opening into an old root cellar. My grandmother was afraid I might go down there to play and the roof would collapse on me, so she had the neighbor come over and fill in the space and brick over the door.” Meg instinctively wrapped her arms around her waist, her nose wrinkling. “She didn’t have to worry. The last place I wanted to play was in this creepy basement.”
He frowned. “Was there another entrance to the cellar from outside?”
Another shiver racked her body. “Not that I remember.”
&nb
sp; Glancing in her direction, he allowed his expression to abruptly soften with concern. “You’re cold,” he murmured, moving to wrap an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll try to figure this out tomorrow.”
Meg didn’t argue. For the moment, she was all out of fight.
In fact, she not only allowed herself to be led out of the basement without digging in her heels, but she no longer cared why Dylan had come to Holly. She was so fiercely relieved that she wasn’t alone in the big house that she would swallow her pride and beg him to stay if necessary.
Then, reaching the top of the stairs, she found herself being tugged through the house as Dylan shut off the lights. It was only when they were crossing the kitchen and he was opening the back door that she sent him a frown of confusion.
“Where are we going?” she demanded.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her as they walked along the icy pathway that circled around the garage. At last they reached the steep staircase that led to his private rooms.
“We’ll stay in the apartment for tonight,” he said, keeping her close beside him as they headed up the steps. “It’s easier to secure. And considerably warmer.”
She nodded, only now realizing just how cold she was. “I’ve been having trouble with the boiler,” she muttered.
Pulling a key out of his pocket, Dylan opened the door and gave her a gentle push inside. Instantly she was wrapped in warm air. She’d had an electric heater installed when she’d prepared the apartment to be leased.
Still she continued to shiver, and without warning Dylan was moving to the open bag that he’d left on the sofa to pull out a white T-shirt. Moving back, he shoved it into her hand.
She frowned in confusion. “What’s this?”
“Go have a hot bath,” he urged. “I’ll make dinner.”
“You…” She snapped her lips closed. Okay, he was bossy. And he should have told her that Kristen had asked him to come to protect her. But right now she was freaked out, and in dire need of a something to halt her shivering. “Fine.”
Before she could move, Dylan leaned down to brush his lips over her forehead. “You’re safe here with me, angel,” he swore in a husky voice. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“No one but you,” she muttered, swiftly heading into the bathroom before she could give in to the urge to wrap herself around his hard body and cry away the stress of the past few weeks.
* * *
Dylan instinctively stepped toward the retreating Meg, longing to force her to understand the last thing in the world he wanted was to hurt her.
But even as she closed the door firmly behind her, Dylan felt his phone vibrate. Damn. If someone was calling him at this hour, it had to be important.
Pulling the phone from his pocket, he glanced at the screen before he pressed it to his ear.
“Hey, Teagan,” he greeted his longtime friend. Teagan Moore had recently started a business with several of his ex-military buddies called ARES Security in Houston, Texas. They had funding and resources the FBI could only dream of acquiring. Which was why he’d called Teagan instead of reaching out to his contacts in the Bureau. “Thanks for getting back so quickly.”
“No problem,” Teagan said, the chatter in the background telling Dylan his friend was already in some bar, no doubt sipping tequila and scoping out the local beauties. “It wasn’t much of a challenge. There’ve been less than two dozen calls on your woman’s landline in the past six months. Most were telemarketers.”
“Any attached to real estate or developers?” Dylan asked, moving into the kitchen to turn on the broiler.
“Nope. Mostly vitamins and life insurance.”
Dylan grimaced, pulling out the steaks he’d put into the fridge when he first arrived. “That’s it?”
“No. The last ten calls came from a disposable phone,” Teagan told him. “Untraceable.”
Frustration blasted though Dylan. Disposable phones were the bane of law enforcement.
“Shit.”
“I hate those things,” Teagan growled. “They’re a pain in the ass.”
Dylan placed the steaks on a pan and slid them beneath the broiler. Then, pulling out the ingredients for a salad, he swiftly tossed them together.
It’d been a long shot that whoever had wanted to buy the house was responsible for harassing Meg. Dylan, in fact, had asked for the phone records to rule them out. That’s how he investigated. Get rid of all those who were obviously not responsible, and you’re left with the guilty party. But now they had to be put back on the list.
Dammit.
“What about the other thing I asked?”
“The sheriff looks clean,” Teagan said. “No accusations of brutality. No run-ins with fellow law officials. No ongoing investigations. No hidden bank accounts. Hell, he received some sort of medal for saving a drowning puppy.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Of course he did.”
Teagan gave a low chuckle. “If you want I can make sure his record isn’t nearly so clean.”
Dylan reached into the cabinet to pull out the plates that had been provided with the apartment. Thank God. He was a bachelor. He would never have remembered to pack dinnerware.
“Thanks, but I don’t think Fulton is going to be a problem,” he said, recalling how easily Meg allowed him to run off the sheriff.
If she was interested in the man, she would have let the sheriff kick Dylan out of town.
“Whatever you say,” Teagan grudgingly agreed.
Dylan smiled. His friend was a brilliant hacker, a loyal friend, and a man who Dylan would always want at his back.
“I gotta go,” he said, his stomach growling as the scent of grilled meat filled the air. “Just send me the bill.”
“You know how I want my payment,” Teagan warned. “Say yes to our offer.”
Dylan felt his heart warm. Teagan had reached out even before Dylan had decided to quit the FBI. His friend wanted to hire him as an independent contractor, utilizing his skills as a profiler.
“I’ll have an answer by the end of the week,” he assured the younger man.
“Tease,” Teagan drawled. Then suddenly his tone was serious. “Hey, amigo, watch your back.”
“You got it,” Dylan promised, tossing the phone on the cabinet as he finished up the meal.
The steaks and salad were on the table along with two glasses of wine when Meg walked into the kitchen wearing nothing more than his T-shirt.
Dylan sucked in a sharp breath, feeling like he’d been hit by a freight train.
The shirt fell to mid-thigh, but it was thin enough to reveal the soft swell of her breasts and sweet curve of her hips. The urge to leap across the room and tackle her to the floor was almost irresistible. Dear lord. He wanted this woman with a brutal need that was driving him crazy.
If he didn’t have her soon…
A flush stained her cheeks, almost as if she knew the erotic thoughts that were flashing through his brain. Hastily she moved to take a seat at the table. But not before Dylan caught sight of the hard points of her nipples pressing against the shirt.
She wanted him.
Just as desperately as he wanted her.
Soon, he silently promised himself. Very, very soon.
“Who were you talking to?” she demanded, clearly searching for anything to break the thick silence that filled the kitchen.
“An old buddy.” With an effort he forced himself to take a seat at the table, filling two bowls with the salad. “You feel better?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope you’re hungry,” he murmured, watching with satisfaction as she cut a large bite of the steak and shoved it into her mouth.
“Starving,” she said around the food, reaching for the wine he knew was her favorite.
Dylan smiled.
He intended to satisfy more than one hunger before the night was over.
Chapter 5
Meg polished off her steak and drained her glass of wine before she le
aned back in her chair and studied the man across the table.
It had been a terrifying night.
But at the moment she wasn’t worried about a stranger sneaking into her house and hiding in her basement. Or the pile of bills that she had stacked on her desk. Or the falling snow that meant her flower deliveries would take twice as long tomorrow.
Instead, she felt warm and safe and utterly protected.
And perhaps more astonishing was the fact that the bitterness that had filled her heart for the past six months was decidedly absent.
This man had hurt her, but he hadn’t done it without a good cause. And he was proving that he was willing to do whatever necessary to heal the past so they could look toward a future together.
Studying his impossibly handsome face, Meg felt her heart gave a leap as he suddenly glanced up to catch her watching him. An unmistakable heat smoldered in his eyes, igniting a fire deep inside her.
Her mouth went dry and her heart missed a beat. She’d never been so sexually aware of a man. It felt as if her entire body was aching for the feel of his touch.
Clearly capable of sensing the erotic need that flared through her, Dylan allowed a slow, wicked smile to curve his lips.
Abruptly unnerved by the knowledge of what was about to happen, Meg cleared her throat.
“Should I call the police?” she demanded.
Shoving back his chair, Dylan rose to his feet. He looked big and dangerous and intensely male.
“Angel, I am the police,” he assured her.
Her pulse thundered as he rounded the table. “I meant, should I call Brad? For all I know, the weirdo is doing the same thing to other women in town.”
“I’m going to track down your stalker,” Dylan assured her with an arrogance that came from being a trained professional. Halting next to her chair he leaned down to slip his arms beneath her legs. His other arm wrapped around her lower back as he cradled her against his chest and straightened. Then with an ease that proved he was even stronger than he looked, he turned to head out of the kitchen. “But tonight I don’t want to think about mystery intruders, or old boyfriends, or why you left Vegas.”