Falling For Mr. Dark & Dangerous

by Donna Alward

  He’d made himself a moving target, but Pete was a good shot. A graze was lucky.

  He couldn’t blame her for being scared. And she was under the impression that he’d only taken a fall.

  The silence drew out as they stared at each other.

  It was like they were holding a conversation without saying any words. When she finally spoke, he understood exactly what she was asking.

  “When?”

  Nate stood, walked a few feet and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. Maggie looked away. He understood why. And hated it. It would be unfair of him to ask her for more.

  “Tomorrow morning, best guess.”

  “So soon.” The words were strangled.

  “We need to move fast, before he takes off again.”

  “He?”

  The name sat on his tongue and he debated. What would she do if he told her? And had Harding found out where he was staying yet?

  Lord, he’d gotten careless and had put her in danger anyway. They had to strike first before Harding had a chance to regroup. He looked into Maggie’s ashen face. And ignored the evidence for once. She was as innocent in all this as Jen had been. He’d stake his life on it. “I promise I’ll tell you. Tonight.”

  “Nate, you’ll be in danger,” she repeated.

  “I know.” He ignored the searing pain in his head and squared his shoulders. “But this is what I’m trained for, Maggie. It’s what I do, and I do it well.”

  “And afterward?”

  She had to know how this was all going to end. There could be no other way. “Afterward Grant and I transport him back to the U.S. to stand trial.”

  This would be his last night at Mountain Haven. They both knew it. What Nate wanted and what he knew was possible were two very different things. He wanted to be with her. To love her. To take away that beautiful memory. Instead he’d be planning an op. Working to keep her safe. The thought left him hollow.

  “This person is wanted. A fugitive, Maggie. It’s what I do. I bring in criminals who are running from the law. Do you think we go after the small-time shoplifters? Do you?”

  To his relief she stayed put in her chair. Her face paled further and her eyes widened. He hadn’t wanted to frighten her but perhaps now it was the only way. To make her see why he’d felt the need for keeping her in the dark.

  “The people I bring in are armed robbers, murderers, rapists, child predators. What do you think could happen if someone like that knew I was here to find them, knew you were involved?”

  “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working.”

  “Good. Because that’s how important this is. It’s the reason—the only reason—I had to keep quiet.”

  She looked away. “It doesn’t change that you…”

  He swallowed. She was right. He’d put his feelings for her above his duty. It was the first time he’d ever done that and he knew it had been a mistake. It served no purpose save to hurt both of them.

  “No, it doesn’t. I let myself become personally involved with you and I had no right. If you’d been anyone else…”

  “You’d what?”

  His breath caught as she turned liquid blue eyes on him. It was a day of truths. All too soon he’d be gone and perhaps if she knew, she’d accept his partial silence a little easier.

  “I’d never have started to fall for you.”

  Calmly she rose from her chair. “You deceived me, used me. There is no excuse for that. You blew it, Nate.”

  I sure did, he thought, watching her walk away.

  “Maggie.”

  She stopped at the doorway, refusing to turn around and face him.

  “Can I stay, Maggie?”

  Her words came, brittle. “I honor my commitments. I accepted your reservation and your bill is paid.”

  On the contrary, he knew he’d be paying for this for a long time to come. A day wouldn’t go by that he wouldn’t think of her. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon, the sound of her laugh or howl of the westerly wind.

  Maggie disappeared into her living quarters and Nate sighed. There was a lot to be done and a limited amount of time. He’d have to sort things out with her later. Right now he had a phone call to make.

  They couldn’t let Pete slip through their fingers again. He had to call Grant, assemble the team and prepare to go in. And add attempted murder to the list of charges.

  Because he knew he’d gotten lucky. And he couldn’t count on his luck to hold.

  Maggie held it all in until she was in her living quarters. She shut the door with a firm click, then went and sat in the chair by the window, staring outside but seeing nothing.

  Had he really fallen for her? Or was that his way of trying to smooth things over?

  She didn’t know what to believe anymore. She only knew that for the first time since Tom’s death, after all those long, lonely years, she’d finally let someone in. She’d finally started to care. It had gone beyond simple flirtation and the physical. She’d fallen. She’d fallen for the man she thought he was. Kind, caring, strong, trustworthy.

  Now she felt like a complete fool.

  In the isolation of her room she let the tears come. Tears for all she’d lost, tears of humiliation. She hated her weakness, for allowing herself to fancy he was truly interested in her. She’d spent the majority of her life seeing things exactly as they were.

  And where they were right now was that she was a forty-two-year-old widow with a teenage daughter and a bed and breakfast. Full stop. After years of protecting her heart, she’d let down her guard and had become vulnerable, trusting. She’d cautioned herself not to let herself get hurt again but she’d done it anyway. She’d let herself be seduced by the magic and romance of the situation, conveniently forgetting that reality would come crashing through.

  She’d been stupid to believe he’d wanted her. She’d been naive. He was staying now, but not for her. For the job.

  She should have done her job and put a stop to any personal connections they’d made. She’d been foolish and fanciful and…weak. The tears were bitter and cold and she resented them nearly as much as she resented Nate right now. Damn him for making her feel this way…hopeless and vulnerable. She hadn’t cried often since Tom’s death, and not once had it been over a man. Until now.

  She swiped her hands roughly over her cheeks, brushing away the moisture. She’d indulged enough. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, covered the redness with makeup and vowed she’d never cry over a man ever again.

  He was gone from the kitchen when she entered it again. The remnants of her first-aid treatment had disappeared, too, except for a bottle of painkillers that remained on the counter beside an empty glass. She should have realized his head would be hurting after the bump he’d taken.

  The house was deathly silent. If he were concussed, he shouldn’t be sleeping. Or if he did, she should at least wake him frequently. Just because she was angry and hurt didn’t mean she wanted anything to happen to him.

  She went upstairs, her feet creaking on the old steps, sounding louder than normal in the awkward silence that seemed to envelop the house. She should have insisted he see a doctor.

  His door was open a crack and she tapped gently, pushing it open a few inches.

  “Come in, Maggie.”

  Her body trembled at the sound of his soft, sure voice. In her anger it had been easy to believe he’d felt nothing for her, had used her. But as she pushed the door open with a squeak, and faced his eyes as they looked at her, she knew there was something between them. Something tenuous and tender, and now tainted with mistruths.

  He was different, even if it was only her own perception that made him so. He wasn’t Nate Griffith, reevaluating, but Nate Griffith, U.S. Marshal, back on the job.

  “You’re awake. I was worried.”

  He was sitting in the straight-back chair, and the laptop was open in front of him. He spun so that he was facing the door, but he didn’t get up. As much as she hated the lies, as much
as she hated the guns…something about him made her feel safe. It had always been that way; hating what he did while still feeling proud and protected.

  His flak jacket lay on the bed in plain sight. There was no point in hiding it from her now. She could say she didn’t care about him all she wanted. The surge of relief she felt knowing he’d at least had a vest on told the truth.

  “I didn’t mean to worry you. Believe me, Maggie. I wanted to save you more worry. You’ve had your fair share.”

  “I saw the pills downstairs. Does it hurt much?”

  Automatically his fingers found the bandage on his forehead and he winced. She fought back the urge to go to him and examine the wound.

  “It’s paining a bit yet. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “You shouldn’t sleep for long periods of time. I’m pretty sure you probably have a concussion.” Her fingers curled on the doorknob. Her first instinct was to care for him. But things were too tenuous between them. She didn’t want him to think all was forgiven just because she was concerned about his medical well-being.

  “Me, too. That’s why I’m…” He paused, then unsmiling, treated her with the truth. “That’s why I’m working.”

  Her muscles stiffened. “Working.”

  He nodded. “The investigation is moving forward quickly now. We need to speak about that.”

  Her head spun as all the possibilities ricocheted in her mind. She couldn’t imagine an empty house again, without him to cook for, talk to, laugh with. How could that be, knowing what she knew now?

  He’d be going away. But before that, she supposed he’d get what he’d come for. And that wasn’t her, even as a tiny voice inside her wanted it to be. And after what he’d said…there would be risks.

  She kept her hand on the knob of the door. Better she know now. Other than Jen and Mike, it had seemed like everyone she’d cared about in her life had met a tragic ending. And even Jen could have been in more trouble if Maggie hadn’t worked hard to change things. It would be better all around if she kept her distance from Nate.

  “What do I have to do with it?”

  He glanced at the laptop and her eyes followed. It seemed to be some sort of mapping diagram. She knew without him saying that it was a plan.

  “Grant Simms will be here within the hour. Two at most.”

  Maggie’s lip curled. Grant Simms again. He’d been at the local detachment for probably five years and he had a way of looking at Maggie like he knew things. When she’d pleaded Jen’s case, she hadn’t liked the way he’d watched her. Assessing. Like he was trying to figure her out, when her only motive had been to minimize the damage to her daughter. Jen had made a mistake. Maggie didn’t think it should follow her around indefinitely. She realized now that Grant had probably told Nate everything about last summer and he’d never mentioned it. More secrets.

  “You trust Grant.”

  “Of course I do.”

  She pulled back a little. It felt too much like choosing sides and she needed to distance herself again. Being close to him made it too easy to forget the many ways he had wronged her.

  She would rather they met somewhere else. But it was hardly fair to ask that of him when he was already popping pills for his headache. She’d do it, knowing that it would make things move faster, letting her get her life back in order sooner. Then she could put this all behind her, once and for all.

  “I’ll put some coffee on.”

  She left the room, but turned to pull the door closed behind her. Before it was latched, she saw Nate already facing the computer again, his hand on the mouse.

  He was a cop, a fugitive hunter, focused on the job. There was no room in his life for her. It was just as well she knew now before something happened she’d truly regret.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WAS probably good Grant was coming. At this rate, the deep freeze would be full and she’d have to send a care package to Jen. Maggie stared at the pile of dirty dishes on the counter and the cooling racks full of baked goods on the table. She was more upset than she’d initially realized.

  Baking meant she could avoid Nate. She could distract herself from thinking about how he’d lied to her, how he was putting himself in danger again, how in danger she felt when he kissed her and touched her, lighting her body on fire.

  Only the distracting wasn’t working so well this time.

  She was sliding another batch of muffins out of the oven when the doorbell rang. She put the muffin tins on top of the oven and pulled off her oven mitt as she went to the door.

  Grant Simms was on the other side, dressed in plainclothes but with his issue pistol in plain sight.

  “Good evening, Maggie.”

  “Constable Simms.”

  She knew she sounded frosty and didn’t care. She stepped back, holding the door open, the only invitation to come in that she offered. He stepped into the breach.

  With Jen behind him.

  “Jennifer!”

  For a moment she wondered if Jen were in trouble again, but dismissed it. She had no doubt that Jen had learned her lesson. Still, what was she doing here?

  “Constable Simms sent for me this afternoon. He wanted me to answer some questions about Peter Harding.”

  Peter Harding?

  “Hey, Grant.”

  Nate’s voice came from the stairs and the three of them turned to look up.

  He was fully dressed, in jeans and a dark long-sleeved T-shirt that accented the breadth of his chest and the curved muscles in his arms. “U.S. MARSHAL” was emblazoned down the sleeve. He’d shaved, changed the gauze and tape on the bandage. For the first time since arriving, he had on a holster and his handgun was in it. All pretenses were officially gone. Maggie blinked. Everything was upside down. What was now reality seemed surreal to her.

  When Nate got to the bottom, he and Grant shook hands, the grip strong as their eyes met. And Maggie knew that despite her personal feelings, Nate and Grant were a team. They were cut from the same cloth, and she was oddly reassured.

  “Hell of a thing, you getting trimmed.”

  Maggie’s face blanched as the words seemed to bounce around. All the blood drained from her head, leaving her spinning as Jen’s and Nate’s faces blurred. Nate frowned at Grant. The bandage glared white on the corner of his head.

  “You didn’t tell her?” Grant’s voice echoed in her head. She knew what trimmed meant. She knew it meant he hadn’t fallen and hit his head on a rock. Trimmed meant he’d been grazed by a bullet.

  She heard Nate’s voice, it sounded far away. “No. I didn’t want to worry her.”

  She closed her eyes, willing away the shock and numbing fear. Nate put his hands on her shoulders. She wanted to lean back against his strength but resisted. He’d lied to her over and over again. When would she learn?

  “You were shot.” She shook off his hands, knowing being touched by him made her vulnerable. She wanted to escape but didn’t know how. He was blocking the door and Grant and Jen were watching it all. There was nowhere safe in the house. Yet how could she deal with this?

  “Give us a minute, Grant. Jen, if you wouldn’t mind waiting in your room, we’ll call you when we’re ready.” Nate took charge, gripping her arm and leading her down the hall to the kitchen. Once there he squeezed her arms and bent his knees so he was looking in her eyes. “I was grazed, that’s all.”

  “You were shot.” She shook her head wildly, stopping when his grip tightened. “A man fired a gun at you with intent…the fact that he was slightly off the mark is irrelevant. And you wouldn’t even go to the hospital!”

  “I know a flesh wound when I see one, Maggie. And there wasn’t time for a trip to the emergency room.”

  She’d had his blood on her hands.

  “No time,” she echoed. What did that mean? She pulled away but stopped by the kitchen table, standing next to the first chair. The one he’d sat in while insisting that she bandage the wound.

  “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t want
you to panic. And we can talk about this, but not now. There isn’t time for it.”

  She nodded. This couldn’t be happening. It was all becoming a big blur that she didn’t understand. Things were moving too fast. She’d barely begun to assimilate that he was actually on the job. Now everything else came crashing around her. Grant was here. Jen was here, of all things. Maybe Nate cared, maybe he didn’t. But the one thing that was clear was that he’d used her. Used her to get to this particular moment in time.

  “Maggie, is there coffee?” Nate’s voice was efficient but calm, and it grounded her. She turned her head, focused on his face. The truth had changed him. He was taller, somehow. More commanding. There was a force about him that was magnetic. He was a man to be reckoned with; a man who would protect what was right. She should hate him for it but couldn’t help but admire it.

  “Yes, and fresh muffins.”

  “That would be great. We’d like it very much if you’d join us.”

  “What do you need me for?”

  “It’ll all make sense, Maggie.”

  Grant had only ever been coolly polite to her, and now they were asking, no demanding, that she accommodate their meeting.

  Lord, she had so many mixed feelings over the matter she felt like making more muffins. Why couldn’t they go back to the way it was before? It had seemed complicated, but it was simple compared to this. Before, it had been new and foreign. Now Nate was putting his life on the line and nothing she could say would make any difference.

  Nate put his hand on hers as she retrieved a plate. The firm warmth of it heated her cold fingers.

  “Thank you, Maggie. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

  “No, it’s not.” She avoided his face, focusing instead on arranging the muffins on the plate.

  “And I don’t mean to make it any harder…so I’m going to ask you something in private.”