In Destiny's Shadow. Ingrid Weaver

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      “You don’t want them to get between you and your story.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll give you five minutes to pack. Then I’m leaving, with or without you.”

      She gathered her skirt to one side, swung her legs out of the Jeep and hopped to the ground. She led the way across the parking lot to her room in silence. As soon as they were inside and he had closed the door behind them, she turned to face him. “Look, I came this far with you because you know something about Titan. And I’m going along with your suggestion about checking out of this motel because I agree with you about that. It would be safer to change location on the off chance Titan learned I met Fredo. But let’s get one thing straight.”

      “What?”

      “I don’t take orders, Mr. Caldwell.” She put her fists on her hips and drew herself up. “And as much as I appreciate the way you saved my life, I won’t be bullied.”

      She was tall for a woman, and the suede boots that hugged her calves had good-size heels. Because of that, she didn’t need to tilt her head much to meet his gaze. It reminded him of how well their bodies had fit together when he’d been holding her—

      Concentrate, he told himself. “It was never my intention to bully you, Miss Becker. I’m merely stating the most logical course of action.”

      “No, you were trying to push me, and it won’t work. Yes, I want my story, but you must want something from me. It couldn’t have been coincidence that you happened to show up in that alley tonight. You must have been following me since I left this motel. What is it? What do you want?”

      She shouldn’t have put it that way, he thought. What would any man want when he was at a motel in the middle of the night with a woman who made his blood hum the way it did now? He brought his index finger to her cheek. He stopped short of touching her, yet he could feel her warmth reach out to him, drawing him closer, making him yearn for the time to explore where this could lead.

      But they didn’t have time, and he couldn’t afford this. The sooner he got what he came for, the safer everyone would be. He dropped his hand. “I already told you.”

      “Right. You said you want Titan.”

      “He has to be brought to justice.”

      “Absolutely. We agree on that much, but you didn’t answer my question. What do you want from me?”

      “I want your files.”

      Her eyes widened. She took a step back. “You can’t be serious.”

      “I need the information you’ve gathered. Your notes, your files, your list of contacts. You’re closer than the police are to learning where Titan is. Combined with what I know, that will lead me—”

      “Whoa. I should have seen it. You’re a reporter. That’s how you know so much about me and the Journal. What paper do you work for?”

      “I’m not a reporter. I don’t work for anyone but myself.”

      “Prove it.”

      “My questions should prove it. I’m not interested in what Titan has done, I only care about where he is now.”

      She studied him, as if trying to read the truth on his face. “Well, whatever you claim, you’ve got some nerve thinking I’d give anything away. I’m not telling you where Titan is. This is my story. I’ve been tracking him for months and I intend to be there when he’s arrested.”

      “You can’t plan to continue. You were almost killed tonight. They won’t give up.”

      She turned away. There was a pale green carry-on bag on a suitcase stand beside the door. She picked up the bag and took it to the desk in the corner. “I don’t give up, either,” she said. A laptop computer sat on the desk, surrounded by disorderly piles of handwritten notes. She unplugged the laptop and slipped it into a pocket on the outside of the bag, then gathered the papers and stuffed them in, as well. She zipped the pocket closed and faced him, her chin lifted and her shoulders squared. “And just in case you’re thinking of stealing this stuff, don’t bother.”

      That was exactly what he’d been thinking. It would have been the simplest solution, after all. That was why he’d been watching her room earlier tonight—he’d planned to enter when she was asleep and help himself to what he needed. But when he had seen her go out, he’d decided to follow her instead. “Miss Becker…Melina.”

      “Because it wouldn’t do you any good,” she continued. “I use the computer mostly for research and for sending finished copy to my editor. And I use my own brand of shorthand for my notes.” She tapped her temple. “Most of what I know is in here.”

      “That’s all the more reason for you to be concerned about your safety.”

      “I am concerned. That’s why I’m packing.” She placed the bag on the bed. Her gaze dropped to the bloodstains on her skirt. For a moment she wavered, clenching her hands the way she had in the Jeep.

      It was obvious to Anthony she was still struggling to control her emotions. He took a step forward, but she recovered quickly and turned to the dresser. It was just as well. He probably shouldn’t touch her again.

      Moving mechanically, she emptied the dresser drawers and the room’s small closet. With the skill of a habitual traveler, she rolled the garments smoothly—there weren’t many—and squeezed them into the middle compartment of the bag. She walked to the bathroom. “If you’re not doing a story, then what’s your connection to Titan?” she asked over her shoulder. “Did you work for him?”

      Anthony followed her. The bathroom was small and didn’t appear to have a window, so he stopped in the doorway. “I’ll answer that question if you tell me what you know.”

      “That isn’t the way it works.” She used her forearm to sweep the belongings off the counter beside the sink into another pocket of her bag. “You should be giving me information, not the other way around.”

      “And you shouldn’t be risking your life for a story.”

      “My work is my life, Mr. Caldwell,” she said. “And I’m going to break the news about Titan. What he did tonight to Fredo is only the latest in a string of crimes that’s more extensive than anyone believes.” She hitched the strap of the carry-on over her shoulder and brushed past him.

      He turned to keep her in sight. “You don’t have to convince me of that, Miss Becker. His thugs attacked and almost killed my friend.”

      She paused at the foot of the bed to look at him. Some of the antagonism eased from her expression. “Why?”

      “Because my friend wouldn’t tell them where to find my sisters and me.” He moved toward her and reached for her bag. “Here. I’ll carry that for you.”

      She curled her fingers around the strap. “No, thanks.”

      “You still don’t trust me?”

      “No, but if Titan hurt your friend and is threatening your family, I can understand why you would want to see him brought to justice.”

      Anthony didn’t respond. If she ever discovered what he really СКАЧАТЬ