Colt, Billionaire Reunion: Sweet, Clean Christian Romance with Suspense (Billionaire Protectors Book 2)

by Alexa Verde

  “How about cocoa with marshmallows in the living room, instead?”

  “Fine with me.” This time, she made no apparent effort to hide her real smile. “Why are you doing all this?”

  He hesitated a brief second.

  Best not to tell her the entire truth—that he still loved her. Part of the truth felt far safer. “For the twins. I can’t see them brokenhearted again. If something happens to you, they’ll be hurt.”

  And so would he, if anything happened to this beautiful, headstrong, infuriating woman. God help him, so would he.

  Colt woke in the middle of the night with a start and stared into the darkness. Since having kids, he’d become a light sleeper. Corbin or Kitty sometimes needed comforting after a nightmare or needed a glass of water.

  But the children were at one of David’s ranches. What woke him?

  A motor outside. That was it. Few cars came close to his ranch. His eyes better adjusted to the darkness, he leaped out of bed and grabbed the gun from his nightstand. Usually, he kept it in the safe, but with Corbin and Kitty away, he’d skipped that precaution. Then he rushed to the window.

  He’d chosen to sleep in a bedroom with windows facing Mirabella’s guesthouse. He peered across a lawn generously lit by lanterns. Everything seemed peaceful enough. No way to see a car outside because of the high fence, so he hurried back to the night stand and pulled up the camera views on his cell phone.

  Sure enough, on one of the cameras facing out from the gates, he could see a black sedan with dark windows beside the mailbox. The lantern light should be sufficient to distinguish the license plate. That is, if it wasn’t covered by dirt. He frowned. A person wearing sunglasses—at night!—and a cap drawn low stretched an arm from the vehicle to deposit something in the mailbox. Another bunch of daisies, complete with spider, no doubt. The window rolled up.

  Not much to go on, but he’d forward this to Brett and see if something could be done. Maybe the image could be magnified to see a ring on the finger, a tattoo, or anything on the car that could help identify it.

  The footage was similar to yesterday’s before Moirah screamed during lunch with the children. He’d forwarded that recording to Brett before they took the kids to David’s ranch. Colt stifled a small flare of guilt.

  After all, his brother had insisted that vacation or not, if Colt needed him, he could contact him. They’d always been there for each other, and bouncing around in foster care had only strengthened that bond. Neither of them had ever cared that they weren’t actually related. They were brothers not by blood, but by heart.

  Gratitude warmed Colt as he grabbed the keys, stuffed his phone in a pocket, and marched outside. He’d slept in jeans and T-shirt, so he wouldn’t have to waste time dressing if they needed to get out fast.

  The text came back.

  On it. Would you like me to fly back?

  Yep, that was the kind of brother Brett was.

  Colt typed the reply as he walked.

  Thanks, but no need. Enjoy your vacation. Say hello to Ashley.

  Nothing unusual showed in the cameras targeting the guesthouses, but he wanted to check for himself. As he made a quick sweep around Mirabella’s guesthouse, he didn’t notice anything suspicious.

  Colt’s lips tightened. Somehow, despite the walls and the security system, staying here until they’d neutralized the threat simply didn’t sit well. Some instinct he hadn’t known he had screamed a warning. As his brother or Mirabella would say, the location was compromised.

  But he didn’t want to wake her up, either.

  As he circled around the small white Craftsman-style house, the front door opened. A moment later, he stared down the barrel of a gun.

  “It might not be a great idea to sneak around like that. Next time, I might shoot first and ask who later.”

  Mirabella’s voice sounded surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances. Either she had nerves of steel, or she was even better than him at hiding emotions.

  Or both.

  She waved him inside. He didn’t hesitate, but followed her into the simply furnished great room and closed the front door. When she sat on the nearest chunky oak chair, he claimed its partner, already pulled up close to hers.

  Mirabella looked lovely in the soft golden light of the table lamp. She hadn’t turned on the overhead lighting, and she kept her head tipped away so her disheveled hair, at least the parts that weren’t sticking up in tufts, covered her face more than usual.

  He had a nearly irresistible inclination to run his fingers through her hair, breathe in the intoxicating jasmine scent of her perfume, draw her close and closer still. His pulse quickened.

  Still, she kept her head ducked forward and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  Colt quirked an eyebrow. Was she self-conscious about her appearance? The Mirabella he’d married hadn’t been. Beautiful, and she’d known it.

  Like him, she’d slept in a T-shirt and jeans, ready to move quickly if needed. Her high-necked and long-sleeved oversized white T-shirt bore a picture of a monkey, matching one of Kitty’s. Despite the circumstances, it made him smile. After one of the weekends the children spent at her apartment, she’d given him banana bread she and Kitty had made. He’d had dishes from the finest eateries in Texas, and still, that banana bread was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

  Except for Mirabella’s lips, of course. His blood rushed faster.

  Burn scars she’d never permitted him to see or not, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on. Her tough shell never discouraged him during their courtship. When they first met, he’d glimpsed a vulnerability in her gray eyes that drew him in. A vulnerability she did her best never to show him again.

  But even at a time like this, when he should be planning what they could do next, he had difficulty dragging his gaze away from her. The reminder that he couldn’t make her stay, he could never make her stay, didn’t help.

  “You’re a lucky man, Colt Jarvis. I could’ve shot you, so easily.”

  His lips widened. “What? And miss the chance of me serenading you again? Or grilling you some of my special barbecue ribs?”

  What made them special was an expensive sauce from one of his friends who owned a restaurant chain, but he wasn’t disclosing that. When they’d been married, Mirabella said what made them special was the love he’d put into making them, and he went along with that.

  She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe he was joking when he should be on the lookout. “The barbecue ribs I’d miss. And I’m sure Corbin and Kitty would miss their father.”

  Did he want to have another chance with her? He knew his answer to this question. He also knew hers. And he still couldn’t accept the way she’d walked away from him and their children, even if it was for the job and not another man. The way she’d kept secrets from him.

  He had a bunch more unanswered questions. Didn’t she consider him trustworthy? Did she think he’d love the twins less because they’d been born from a surrogate mother and not from her?

  He didn’t ask those questions. They’d have to stay unanswered. He’d learned early in his life that questions led to arguments and arguments led to destructive anger. He didn’t want to remember what the anger had led to, but the painful feeling of helplessness was reminder enough.

  He swallowed the bitter memories. Best to keep his mind in the present. “As much as I love this place, I think we need to spend a few days somewhere else.”

  Her gaze became thoughtful. “I heard the car outside. But they didn’t get in. So you think this place is compromised? I mean, we knew it before coming back here.” She ducked her head and seemed to shrink in on herself, like it was her fault.

  She couldn’t be blaming herself for this, could she?

  “My guess from what I saw on the camera is that there’s another bouquet of daisies in the mailbox now. Maybe another spider. Or worse. It could be nothing more than happened yesterday, but I’m getting a bad feeling about stayin
g. How about going to Brett’s log cabin?”

  The corners of her lips edged up, attracting his attention to her mouth. Even without lipstick, her lips looked plump, pink, and oh-so-kissable. “I don’t want to travel too far. All the people I need to interview are in Austin.”

  “You know where it is. It’s not too far.” Was she making excuses? Of course, here they still had Jackson and Moirah about, at least in the daytime. At the cabin, they’d be alone together.

  Which reminded him—he needed to leave a message asking Moirah not to collect the mail.

  The thought didn’t distract him anywhere near enough. He got up and moved further away, to stand by the entrance door, before he did something crazy like kiss Mirabella. Why was it so difficult to control himself around her? Why did just the scent of jasmine remind him how well she fit in his arms, how sweet her lips tasted?

  “How fast is the SUV? If the naught to sixty is too slow, it’s much harder to lose a tail.” She rose, as well.

  “I have other cars. I guess we’ll need a small but powerful car. One with better acceleration and a smaller turning circle. I’ll drive.” If he just stepped toward her and leaned over, his breath would caress her cheek.

  The air charged with awareness.

  Her eyes widened as if she felt it, too. “I… we… I’m happy to drive.”

  He gathered his willpower to make himself move away from her rather than toward her. While with most things he had more than enough willpower to achieve what he set his mind to, he didn’t seem to have much around Mirabella. “I’ll go get the vehicle.” He placed a hand on the smooth surface of the front door handle.

  “Hold on. Let me make sure everything is okay outside.” She caught up with him fast and placed her hand over his.

  The simple, innocent touch wreaked havoc on his senses. Her eyes widened again, and she jerked her hand back.

  While she checked the outside through a door slit, he did the same on the camera views on his cell phone. He suppressed a grimace. He should’ve remembered the precautions. Some bodyguard he’d make!

  Considering that Mirabella could also draw a gun faster than he could and shoot with more precision—he’d found out on the practice range—she’d probably protect him better than he could protect her.

  Oh yeah. Add bucketloads of attitude, and you had one intimidating woman. Good thing he was a confident man. His black belt in taekwondo helped. It wasn’t all one-sided. While she had combat training, he knew he’d win if it came to fighting an assailant hand-to-hand.

  But when it came to looking into her eyes, he was lost.

  “All clear.” Her voice sounded huskier. As if she’d been affected by his presence as much as he was affected by hers.

  But he couldn’t let it affect him. He needed to keep a clear head.

  And he couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t walk out on him and the children again, even if it was from the best of intentions. Their attraction toward each other had always been strong. Just not strong enough to unearth the secrets she’d kept and still kept.

  He rushed outside before he weakened and kissed her senseless. Or asked for a second chance.

  Even blackmailing her with his singing wouldn’t work in this case.

  Chapter Twelve

  A light tap on her knee woke Mirabella, and she instinctively moved to grab her gun. Then she recognized the musky scent of Colt’s cologne. The growl of the motor. The headlights showing the road ahead of them. Knowing where she was, she relaxed.

  They were on the way to Brett’s log cabin. She straightened in her seat as she blinked sleep from her eyes. She hadn’t intended to drift off. Her job was to watch out for a tail. But the movement of the car combined with the sound of the motor and her own fatigue lulled her to sleep. A glance at the clock showed she couldn’t have dozed for more than fifteen or twenty minutes.

  “Sorry. You want me to drive?” She threw him a guilty glance.

  “I wouldn’t have woken you for that.”

  No, he wouldn’t have.

  And that meant…

  Tensing, she looked in the side rearview mirror. Sure enough, the lights of another car shone behind them in the distance.

  “How long has this been going on?” She reached into her purse and felt the cold reassurance of her gun.

  Even in the dark car, she could see a muscle in Colt’s jaw twitch. “Long enough to bother me. Maybe it’s somebody traveling in the same direction, but they’ve been traveling the same direction pretty much since we left home. They haven’t come any closer.”

  The lights grew bigger. “Until now.” She pulled the gun out.

  “Hopefully, just someone in a hurry to get to their destination.” His voice held a note of confidence she knew neither of them felt. Despite his words, the car accelerated.

  “I like your optimism.” She took the gun off safety.

  Brett had taught her that one couldn’t be too prepared. That rule had saved her life a few times. Most likely, guessing they’d change location, the car behind them simply waited and watched till they left Colt’s property.

  Shots thundered.

  The car accelerated even more, with a jerk. “Mirabella, duck!” Colt yelled.

  As if.

  He really didn’t know her well if he thought she was going to duck. She rolled down the window, and as the wind slapped her hair around her face, she clicked her seat belt open.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” He shouted louder than the howl of the wind or the growl of the motor.

  “What does it look like? I’m stopping them.” Thankfully, her body might be scarred, but she was still slim, and after the latest surgeries, still lithe. She wriggled her upper body through the window and took aim at the approaching car’s lights.

  So she was making herself a possible target?

  So it was extremely hard to hit someone in a moving vehicle from that distance. Even in daylight. Even for a good shooter.

  Chances were, they wouldn’t hit her, and she wouldn’t hit them.

  But she had every intention of showing them she wasn’t an easy target. Not a soft girlie girl like poor Karli and the Daisy Killer’s other victims. If he thought he’d make her his next victim, he could think again.

  Hah. She’d taken out one of their headlights. Point to her. The tail dropped back.

  Between Colt’s driving and her shooting, they lost their pursuer. But to be sure, she had Colt take an extra roundabout route to reach Brett’s log cabin.

  Almost an hour later, Mirabella inhaled the fresh scent of wood and pine needles as she did a quick exterior perimeter check at the cabin. Remote enough and with enough land around it to be safe, especially with the security Brett added. Close enough to Austin she could meet with the people she needed to meet. And then hopefully solve this case before anyone died.

  She entered the cabin and walked through the interior perimeter. The place had a good feel. She’d thought that the last time she’d stayed here, before she’d rescued Colt from the kidnappers. Rustic and homey, yet filled with modern technology. Best of all, a top-notch security system.

  But she couldn’t allow her feelings to mislead her. The place could still be compromised, and her job was to check it.

  Colt’s presence must’ve really clouded her judgment if she agreed to this. Staying in the same house, though in separate rooms, of course, fit even less with her decision to keep away from him. To keep her emotions for him under firm control. To not risk endangering him or the children.

  “All clear,” she declared after taking her time checking every room.

  Colt met her in the living room. “I expect Brett’s security system and keeping the fact he owns this place a carefully guarded secret would make sure of that.”

  His slightly dismissive tone raised her hackles. She shoved her hands into her jean pockets. “When it comes to the safety of people who are dear to me, no precautions are excessive.”

  Especially if she put them in peril to start
with, though unwillingly.

  He leaned against the table, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. That cheeky, endearing grin she rarely saw from Colt. “So I’m still dear to you? Good to know.”

  Warmth rose inside her. “I… we… it’s late. The sun will rise soon. We need to sleep.”

  More than sleep, she needed to put some distance between them—fast. Because while her mind screamed “Stop!” her body yearned toward him against her will, seeking the familiar comfort of his arms. She knew herself well enough to recognize she was too stirred up and emotional to sleep.

  But being alone with Colt too long wasn’t wise. Oh, she trusted him well enough. It was herself she couldn’t trust.

  She had a bigger problem than a possible serial killer after her.

  How was she going to survive even a few more days in Colt’s presence without falling for him again?

  And was she already too late to stop that?

  Colt straightened. He knew when he was dismissed. But then, his eyelids were drooping, and she must be even more exhausted. This time yesterday, she’d still been on her way back from Australia. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  Her chin tipped in that stubborn way he was far too accustomed to. “I know the way. I’ve memorized the layout. I’ll use the same room I used last year, when I was here with Brett, Ashley, and the children.”

  He loosed a long breath. Yes, when he was kidnapped. As soon as she knew the likely location where he’d been held, she’d taken one of Brett’s powerful motorcycles, armed herself with an assortment of weapons, ridden miles cross-country, and risked her life for him.

  “Thank you for rescuing me.” His voice sounded husky to his own ears.

  So it had been more mortifying than romantic? She’d risked her own life to save his. That mattered. It counted for something.

  For a lot.

  A half-smile touched her lips, and she rolled her eyes a little. Mirabella had never been good at accepting thanks or compliments. “Ashley would say God guided me. So God saved you, not me.”