Protecting His Brother's Bride. Jan Schliesman

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СКАЧАТЬ Sensed someone moving nearby. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn’t breathe.

      “Tell me she’s dead.” An unfamiliar voice crackled through the phone.

      Another gunshot exploded and Kira grabbed her head. The sound echoed in her ears, reverberated through her skull. Then silence.

Chapter 2

      “She’s dead.” Dalton mimicked the thug’s voice to perfection, a skill he and his brother, Josh, had honed as kids. At the same time he was grinding his heel into the intruder’s face for emphasis.

      “Clean it up and get here by morning.” Whoever Rico was, he disconnected before Dalton uttered another word.

      He shoved the phone into his pocket. The surreal activities of the past twenty-odd minutes came into clear focus. The blonde bomber had told at least one truth: she didn’t have a partner. She also didn’t have a prayer of walking away without sharing the full, unabridged version of why she’d ended up at his door, and how she planned to stay alive.

      For a moment, he allowed his gaze to roam her body, lingering on the cleavage exposed when her shirt had slipped off one shoulder. The thickening smoke reminded him they had to get out of here.

      Dalton could consider himself every kind of fool for not letting the woman suffer alone, but she needed a doctor. A man with any functioning brain cells would’ve found out her name when she’d first opened her eyes. There had been an explosion, so maybe he should cut himself some slack.

      The sound of rain splattering against the house, along with the crack of thunder that followed, had him breathing easier. The small fire would be out in no time. “At least something is going right.”

      He should have expected that the man would put up quite a fight. The bastard had gone after Blondie again, leaving no doubt he wanted her dead. Dalton had stopped short of killing him, but the thought still flickered in the back of his mind.

      It would be self-defense, plain and simple. But he didn’t want an ounce of scandal to touch his family’s name ever again. His mom couldn’t take another and would never forgive him. First Lauren, and the personal attacks that had seeped into his mom’s life, then Dalton lying his way through his brother’s death. The tabloids insinuated Josh had gotten what he deserved, and although Dalton felt the same way, he had to deflect their claims.

      Josh had always been their mother’s favorite. Maybe because he was the baby of the family, or maybe because his mother coveted his free and easy nature. He could do no wrong in her eyes. And since they’d fought the day before his death, his mother was convinced she’d played a role in sending him over that cliff.

      Dalton grabbed the man’s shirt collar and dragged him into the bathroom, anchoring him with duct tape to the cast-iron bathtub while he writhed in agony.

      “Who are you and why do you want her dead?”

      The portly man pressed his lips together, trying to look cocky. “You’re a wrinkle in the plan,” he said. “They want this place gone, burned to the ground. I’ll be out of jail and back in a couple hours to finish the job.”

      “I’m shaking with fright.” The man might have been intimidating to anyone else, but to Dalton, he was simply a bully. “Behave yourself and I’ll call the cops tomorrow.”

      He returned to the bedroom and dialed the emergency services number again. He couldn’t second-guess his decision to help the unconscious woman. Commitment was his middle name. “This is Dalton Matthews. I need to cancel the call for a grass fire. Looks like the rain put it out.”

      “I’ll remove it from our list,” the dispatcher replied.

      “I’m heading out of town for a few days. Could I get an extra patrol to swing past tomorrow and make sure everything’s in order?”

      “We can do that.”

      The man in the next room gathered enough energy to bellow a string of curse words.

      “Sorry. Forgot to mute the television before I called.”

      “No problem, sir. I’ve heard worse.”

      “Now that I think about it, switch the patrol to the day after tomorrow.” Dalton grinned to himself. “Nothing exciting ever happens around here.”

      “Right. I’ve got you down. Have a safe trip.”

      He disconnected the call and stared at Blondie. She was out for the count and his ruse might have bought her a short reprieve. Getting her to a doctor or hospital would cover his culpability regarding her injuries. He dropped his bloodstained flannel shirt and pulled on the first available T-shirt.

      “Now for sleeping Blondie.”

      All his efforts while he’d been in hiding the past several months would be wasted by tomorrow. There was no time to cover all the windows and prevent any further damage to the house. He released another, longer sigh and with it some of the anger kindling his blood.

      He tossed an old afghan onto Blondie and secured her close to his body. He settled her in the front passenger seat of his vehicle, clicked the seat belt in place and climbed into the driver’s side. He backed out of the garage and refused to look at the damage.

      The rain had arrived in time to stop the fire. He adjusted the wipers and pulled onto the darkening county road with one final glance in his rearview mirror. No second thoughts.

      Right or wrong, he was committed to securing Blondie’s health and safety. She needed a hospital. She’d get a hospital. If she woke up before that, he’d get answers.

      Dalton rubbed his knuckles, thinking of the bastard who’d taken a hit to the groin. The man’s curse-filled tirade had confirmed that someone wanted more than death for Blondie. What did she want from Dalton? More than a few things didn’t add up.

      Dalton spotted the bright pink nails grasping the edge of the damp afghan he’d thrown over her. He caught himself reaching for her fingers, the familiar color causing his gut to clench. Instead, he anchored his hands on the steering wheel.

      How many times had he seen such a color? Visiting the nail salon had been a ritual for Lauren. Until the day she’d taken her life. It was almost impossible not to think of his wife, and every time he did, he couldn’t get past the circumstances framing her death or the blame levied at him.

      “How many media exclusives can you people want?” An unlimited supply, when every person Lauren had known, past and present, collected a fee for their sorrow. Too bad they hadn’t been half as involved in her life when her fame had started tearing her apart.

      But paparazzi don’t normally carry guns or have thugs blowing up their cars.

      The woman beside him was too pale. Too fragile looking, as though she’d endured more than her fair share of pain. She moistened her lips and wiped her hand across her eyes before wincing and bolting upright in the seat.

      “Let me out!” She tugged at her seat belt.

      He glanced at the highway. “Out where?”

      She pushed a strand of СКАЧАТЬ