Military Heroes Romantic Suspense Collection

by V. R. Marks

  "You decided off road was the best way to travel?"

  "Anything for you." She batted her eyelashes, making him laugh as Allie walked in.

  Her expression shifted instantly from open to wary to almost sad. He was fairly sure this was about to get sticky. "Allie, Eva." He figured that was enough of an introduction based on Allie's earlier jealousy. As he unloaded the groceries, he kept himself between the two women.

  But he shouldn't have worried. Allie's manners were too deeply ingrained. She was gracious and polite, and her smile looked sincere. "A pleasure to meet you."

  "Again," Eva agreed. "Even if this dolt didn't introduce us before."

  "You had him a bit distracted," Allie replied.

  "Easy enough to do," Eva agreed.

  Surprised, Ross ignored them as they found common ground in acting as if he was invisible. What had happened to Allie's jealousy? Where did Eva get off befriending the woman she'd called a 'perp' a few hours ago?

  With this sort of behavior it was no wonder men never felt like they really understood women.

  "I'm going to check in with Rick." Let the two girlfriends finish the groceries.

  "Hang on," Eva said. "We got a hit on that first identification you asked for." She reached for the messenger bag she'd dropped near the door.

  He saw Allie tense up. "Good news. In my office." Let her keep guessing about his personal life. Maybe it would push her to ask him straight out what was between him and Eva. Then he could enjoy her reaction when he told her they were only professional associates.

  "By the way," Eva said, pausing on her way out. "Our fearless leader here is unattached. That kiss this morning wasn't anything but a test for you."

  "Eva!" He snarled at her. "What the hell?"

  "Oh. Okay." Allie's cheeks turned pink. "Did I pass?"

  "With flying colors."

  There was too much wicked in Eva's grin for any man's sanity. "Come on," he barked. "We have a job to do."

  "Can I listen in?" Allie's expression wavered between worry and hope as she stood there with a carton of eggs in her hands.

  "Not this time." He motioned Eva to head into the office ahead of him, weary of her theatrics, as he sent Allie his most reassuring smile. Anything to erase her obvious disappointment in his answer. "It's a security thing. I'll keep you in the loop."

  "This is 'need-to-know'?"

  "Something like that." And she didn't need to know exactly how he'd wound up with her case. Not yet. "I'll share the details as soon as I can. Trust me."

  Chapter 5

  Allie did trust him, but she desperately wanted to know what was happening. It was her life on the line, after all. Though he was now in danger just because she was with him, he seemed confident he could take on anything and win.

  Maybe he could. She'd always marveled at his confidence. He'd held himself separate from the problems of growing up on the wrong side of town in a broken home that defined dysfunction. She'd watched him struggle, admiring his increasing independence as he took on responsibilities children shouldn't have to bear.

  She smiled at the empty doorway, feeling better than she should after Eva's declaration about Ross' personal attachments or lack thereof. It was the last thing she should be thinking about, but knowing he wasn't involved with anyone, she promised herself the next time he aimed his hot gaze at her mouth, she'd leap at the invitation.

  Putting the eggs in the refrigerator, she fanned her overheated face with the door. This was no time to indulge in her favorite fantasies. Attached or not, town gossip aside, she and Ross didn't have a future. While she'd long since forgiven him for never writing to her, her heart hadn't recovered from the pain of his abrupt rejection.

  She could make excuses for him, knowing how hellish his home life had been during his senior year in high school, how desperate he'd been to get away. But that didn't mean she had to repeat her mistake of falling for him again. She wouldn't repeat the cycle of waiting by the phone and rushing to the mailbox hoping to hear from him.

  Her heart bumped along through the memories. The friendship, that sweet, uncertain first kiss, the giddy tumble under a starry sky when she knew she loved him. It annoyed her when she recognized the happy kick of her pulse at the idea of being with him once more.

  If they had time for anything in the midst of this ridiculous turmoil it might be a fling for old time's sake. A chance to have the closure they'd never thought they'd needed after graduation. They were grown ups, they could handle a flirt or even something more and walk away unharmed. Allie shook that dangerous rationale right out of her head.

  Think of something else...anything else.

  Finished with the groceries, she resisted the urge to consider dinner plans. She had to stop thinking like this was some sort of romantic retreat. This was basically protective custody and old feelings wouldn't help either of them resolve her immediate problems.

  She washed a Honeycrisp apple, wondering if he'd specifically requested her favorite variety or if it was coincidence. "Not the point," she scolded herself. It seemed her mind was determined to latch onto anything but the pertinent facts.

  Crossing the kitchen, she settled on the wide seat under the bay window. As she crunched on the apple she reviewed the simple fact that she was in way over her head.

  Bradley Roberts had groomed her to stand out on the job and in the community. With his guidance she'd become a rising star in the company, awarded for her successful efforts with the local community and the industry at large. Somehow he'd used that against her, making her look guilty for stealing from the charitable fund. It was a logical move on his part to send people after her and the evidence, but now someone had falsely tied her to his murder.

  Here, at the absolute lowest point in her life, in walks the one man she never stopped wanting. Distraction, coincidence, or reluctant hero? Unable to make up her mind on that, she went back over her new circumstances.

  Her alibi would never hold up in court because she didn't really have one. It was a worry she couldn't change, so she left it behind and examined the newest details in her ever-changing situation, hoping for a revelation.

  Those mysterious withdrawals bothered her almost as much as the terrible theories of corruption and greed racing through her mind. No one at her company wanted her to blow the whistle on the issues with the new product. If the lack of communication was a clue, the law office she'd contacted didn't want any part of this either. Which left her wondering who - other than Bradley - had the ability to drain the charity fund and manipulate her personal bank account. If she figured that out, maybe Ross and his team could help her avoid a prison sentence.

  Maybe she was as naive as Bradley had once said. She did make a habit of looking for ways to help, to pitch in, to be a part of the solution whenever there was a problem. She did look for the best in people and organizations. Her positive outlook was a character trait that served her well in her chosen field and earned her praise and high ratings in her performance reviews.

  A bitter laugh escaped, edging toward hysterical, as she imagined her next review with theft and embezzlement added to her list of accomplishments on the evaluation.

  Aunt Ruth had often called her resourceful. Allie wondered what her aunt would call her when she returned from her cruise to a blood stained crime scene. Sitting here, watching clouds scuttle across the blue sky, she didn't feel so resourceful. She felt nearly defeated.

  The money accusations were bad enough, though the recent string of withdrawals might help clear her. If she turned the stolen data over to Ross, maybe he would know who could help her prove her boss had been taking kickbacks for years.

  She frowned as she mentally reviewed the information on her hard drive. If he'd been taking them for years, there was no reason to be obvious about draining the charity account now. He should have loads of money stashed somewhere, even beyond the offshore nest egg with her name on it.

  Why didn't whoever killed him know that? What did anyone hope to gain
by implicating her? Leverage or motive?

  Lost in thought, frustrated by the unanswered questions and her inability to find the right angle, she didn't realize Ross had joined her until he touched her shoulder, making her jump at the contact.

  "Sorry," he said, jerking his hand back. "Didn't mean to startle you."

  "It's okay." She set the half-eaten apple on the table. "I don't know what to think anymore." Tears stung her eyes and she looked at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to clear them away. "None of this makes sense anymore."

  He rounded the table to sit at the opposite end of the window seat. She couldn't help but notice the way the worn denim stretched over his muscled thigh or the scant inches separating his knee from hers.

  "Eva got a hit on the fingerprint from the guy who invaded your aunt's house."

  Allie looked around, but Eva hadn't joined them.

  Ross said, "I sent her on to the next thing on the list."

  "Oh." Wouldn't it be nice if she could fully appreciate that they were alone again? She cleared her throat and mentally swept her fantasy of a romantic reunion aside. "Does that mean you know who tried to shoot me?" Ross nodded, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. "What is it?" She reached out, then snatched her hand back.

  "The shooter was a mid-level gang-banger from the Washington, D.C. area."

  "How could I have incurred the wrath of anyone in a gang? I don't know anyone like that."

  Ross' mouth hitched up at the corner in a wry grin. "Didn't think so, sweetheart. But it worries me."

  She could see that. Though his face didn't give away much, she noticed the faint signs of frustration that mirrored the turmoil she felt. "Who would hire someone to kill me?"

  "I wish you'd tell me." Ross met her gaze and she almost winced. "My hands are tied here, Allie, until you let me in."

  His voice, rough and low, sent a tremor through her. He wanted information, but his words, his phrasing, and mostly his intensity made her want something else entirely different.

  "Hear me out?"

  Ross nodded.

  "The report about me that crossed your desk?" She braced herself. "It was accurate. I did steal sensitive information, specifically the cost analysis on a new drug, that proves my company – my former company – was going to market the drug despite harmful side effects. Apparently the negative reaction is similar enough that it can be blamed on other drugs or complications with the illness it's meant to treat. By the time the lawsuits hit, the financial impact will be minimal."

  "Roberts knew about the problem?"

  "He wrote the cost analysis."

  "Holy crap."

  She swallowed and blinked back more tears. "I didn't steal the money and I swear I've had nothing to do with most of those bogus transactions."

  "Most?"

  "I did send a chunk of that offshore account he opened in my name to make a charitable donation to a research fund."

  "Maybe that's why he raided the charity account."

  "After he died?" She turned away from the window and started spinning the apple by its stem.

  "Who else knew about Roberts approving the drug?"

  "Everyone in the company. This new product would've been huge, Ross. It was supposed to be a boon for the public. We were all buzzing with excitement over the launch."

  "So everyone with a vested interest in the bottom line had a motive here."

  Allie nodded. "Welcome to my world. It's why I don't know where to turn. When I approached the CEO it became clear he didn't want to hear anything remotely negative about Roberts or the drug. He assured me I was doing a fine job in my area and to stay focused on continuing my positive public relations efforts."

  "When did you meet with him?"

  "Two days before I ran away." For all the good it did. "When I went out for lunch that day I thought I was being followed. The next morning I found myself with a flat tire and I had to wait for service. Called myself a paranoid drama queen, among other things, thinking someone was trying to keep me out of the office."

  "Did you go in to work that afternoon?"

  "Yes. It was so late it was hardly worth it, but I'm glad I did. My office was in perfect order, but not quite right. Several little things were off. I'm not OCD," she added with a weary chuckle. "But I couldn't shake the feeling someone had searched my desk. That night there was a sedan parked outside my apartment and all those spy movies wouldn't stop running through my head."

  "Understandable."

  She appreciated his compassion and willingness to withhold judgment. On a deep breath, she spilled the rest. "Roberts and I had a good relationship –"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  She blinked at his icy interruption. "Working relationship," she clarified, watching his scowl ease a fraction. "Because of that I wanted to try and reason with him when I went in the next morning, but he was at some offsite meeting all day."

  She paused, thinking it over, looking for what she might have done differently.

  Ross' big palm rested on her shoulder. "So what finally made you run?"

  "The money and the computer." She let herself be soothed by his touch as he gently kneaded at the tension in her neck and shoulder. "Figuring I'd take a couple personal days, I went to my office and ticked through the urgent things on my list. That's when I saw the email about failed login attempts on the bank account. I ran a keystroke report and knew someone had been in my office, looking for evidence. Or in hindsight, maybe they were planting it."

  "So you ran."

  "No. Getting mugged in the parking garage was the last straw. That made me run."

  "What?"

  She leaned away from his sudden rush of temper. "It was a bump and run thing. They snatched my briefcase right off my shoulder. My work laptop was in it. That's when I knew Bradley wouldn't change his mind."

  "How so?"

  "My purse, the black backpack?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Any random street thief would see the quality difference there and go for the cash and credit cards." Ross was nodding. "There was nothing random about taking my briefcase. They wanted the laptop because they didn't find what they needed on the desktop."

  "You didn't leave the evidence on the laptop."

  "Of course not. Which explains why someone's been on me ever since. Well, until you stepped in." She felt his hand tense up for a moment before he resumed the soothing kneading.

  "This might be the gang connection. Would you recognize the mugger?"

  "No. He wore one of those oversized hoodies, came up from behind me and was off like a shot with the laptop."

  Ross shifted, stretching his legs under the table and raking a hand through his hair. She managed not to lean over and dive into that rich brown silk with her own hands. She wondered if he wore it longer now because he'd had to keep it regulation short for the Army.

  He finally looked at her again. "Is that everything?"

  "Isn't that enough?"

  "Only if you aren't hiding anything else."

  Exasperated and weary of sitting, Allie tried to get up. She needed to move, to breathe air that wasn't scented with him. Sitting next to Ross and thinking about everything she couldn't have anymore was one more frustration she didn't need piled on top of the rest of her rocky circumstances.

  "Wait." He caught her hand, urging her closer to him on the window seat and looping his arm over her shoulders leaving nowhere for her hand except his thigh.

  He was so warm and solid she sighed despite herself. She should resist, but tucked into his embrace, she felt safe and surrounded, sensations she'd gone too long without. "I'm not hiding anything else, Ross."

  "Good."

  "I wish I thought so. Knowing all of this makes you a target too now."

  "It's not the first time." He gave her a reassuring squeeze that melted her heart. "I can hold my own."

  She didn't doubt that, she just didn't want to be the one responsible for testing it. "Oh!" She sat up, twisting to face him. "There is one more thing."<
br />
  He raised an eyebrow.

  "In the grand scheme it's pretty minor."

  "Uh-huh."

  "I don't have really have an alibi for Roberts' murder. I wasn't with my friend Nicole."

  "Oh, I knew that."

  She frowned. "How?"

  "You always swallow before you fib. I first noticed it somewhere around fourth grade. I think Cochran suspected the Nicole story was bogus, too."

  "Then why did he let me off the hook?"

  Ross smiled, sending her pulse leaping. "Cochran's known you forever. He wants to believe you." He took a deep breath in, let it out slowly. "Since it's just you and me here, why don't you tell me where you really were?"

  She heard the question, but didn't answer, too mesmerized by the way his gaze dropped to her mouth. There it was, the invitation she promised herself she'd seize.

  She let the need grow, let the anticipation fire her blood as she slowly leaned closer. Closer. Until finally her lips whispered against his. Her eyelids drifted closed as she remembered the texture and talent of that warm and willing mouth. She was eager to discover it all over again.

  His skin still carried the scent of the woods they'd tramped through and the stubble of his beard was a deliciously rough framework for his soft, full lips.

  Lips that weren't reciprocating.

  Mortified, she eased away, unable to make eye contact while she searched for any shred of dignity.

  She wanted to be angry, to accuse him of denying the attraction between them, but this was Ross. He'd been her first love and at the moment he was her only real ally.

  Her apology dried up when his hands landed warm and firm on her hips. He pulled her across his lap, her thighs straddling his, until she felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. She braced herself on his shoulders as his hands skimmed up her back, drawing her closer.

  "Better," he said, nuzzling the sensitive place above her collarbone. When she gasped, he trailed hot kisses up her throat, over her jaw, to - finally - capture her mouth.