Secrets. Cynthia Eden

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      He glanced toward the clock. It was nearing 7:00 p.m. already. “We can go over the case tonight. You can tell me everything right now.” He’d stay with her until midnight, if that was what it took. “Or we can start fresh first thing in the morning.” That would give him time to go ahead and start pulling strings with the New Orleans Police Department so he could get their case files on her attack and the arson at her home.

      “Tomorrow...” She hesitated. “That’s fine.”

      He frowned at her. “I can stay here all night if you want.”

      She flashed him a weak smile. “Tomorrow is fine. I’m actually close to being dead on my feet right now.”

      His gaze dropped to her feet. Sexy high heels. Delicate ankles. Bright red toenails.

      “I drove straight from New Orleans today. After the last PI down there told me he wouldn’t take the case, I knew I had to come see you.”

      How had she even known that he and his brothers had started a PI business? But that wasn’t the question he asked, not yet. Instead, Brodie murmured, “You could’ve called.”

      Jennifer shook her head. “I thought you were less likely to turn me down in person. And...”

      He waited.

      “And I needed to get out of that town.” Her voice lowered. “I told you, I felt hunted.”

      Stalked.

      But she drew in a bracing breath. “I think starting fresh tomorrow sounds great. When do you want me here?”

      He didn’t want her to leave him. Now that she was back, Brodie wanted to keep her close. “How about nine o’clock?”

      “Perfect.” She turned away. “I’ll see you—”

      “Do you want to get a bite to eat?”

      Her shoulders stiffened, and then she glanced back at him.

      Hell. He’d done it again. Why was self-control such an issue with her? “You said you drove straight through, so you must be hungry.” He hadn’t eaten since lunch, so he was near famished himself. “How about I take you out for dinner, for old times’ sake?”

      Red filled her cheeks. “Our old times didn’t exactly involve dinner.”

      No, they had involved danger and passion.

      The danger was already happening again. As for the passion, well, a guy could dream. “Just dinner,” he told her softly. “We both need to eat.”

      He shut off his computer and headed for the door. No, for Jennifer.

      He’d thought about her plenty during the years. Thought that...surely...things couldn’t have been as good as he remembered.

      He’d also thought that she would have gotten married over the years. In his jealous head, he’d seen her saddled with some rich society boy with more money than sense. Some guy handpicked by her father.

      Only her father was dead. And he knew her mother had passed away when Jennifer was just a child.

      As she stood before him, Jennifer seemed very much alone.

      Not anymore. “You don’t have a...boyfriend?”

      “No.” Her gaze met his. “There’s no one like that in my life.”

      The relief he felt was wrong, and he knew it. So was the thought that he had... I’m here now.

      In silence, they headed down to the main floor. The elevator ride was pretty close to torture. Mostly because the woman smelled better than sin.

      “I heard about your parents.” Her confession was hushed.

      He lifted a brow.

      “Okay, I found out when I did an internet search on you. Brodie, I’m sorry. So sorry for what happened to them.”

      Yeah, his family’s attack had been splashed all over the press in Texas when the murders occurred, and he knew there was still plenty to read about the horror online.

      “Did you...did you ever find their killers?”

      “We’re close,” he told her. Closer than they’d ever been before since they’d finally located the weapons used to kill his parents.

      Surprise flashed in her eyes for just a moment. “That’s great.”

      The elevator dinged. They stepped into the hallway and her high heels tapped against the gleaming tile. He nodded to the security guard as they left the building and the hot Texas night hit them. His SUV was parked right across the street. He caught her elbow in a light grip and headed for the vehicle.

      Just as they hit the middle of that street, bright lights flashed on, locking them in a too-stark illumination. A car’s engine revved and tires squealed.

      In that instant, Brodie realized the driver of that car was heading straight for him and Jennifer. Aiming for them. Jennifer yanked at his arm, as if she was trying to pull him out of harm’s way, even as Brodie grabbed tightly to her. They hurtled through the air, dodging that car—a long black car—by inches. The wind seemed to whip around them, and the acrid scent of burning rubber filled Brodie’s nose right before he and Jennifer crashed into the asphalt.

      The car didn’t slow down. It raced to the edge of the street and swung a hard right. The damn thing vanished into the night.

       That maniac just tried to kill us!

      “See...?” Jennifer’s husky voice yanked his stare back to her. She was sprawled right beside him on that asphalt. “I told you... Someone is hunting me.”

      Not just hunting her. Someone wanted her dead.

      * * *

      “YOU’RE STAYING HERE?”

      Okay, so Brodie McGuire wasn’t exactly impressed with her choice of lodgings. His tone of voice made that fact loud and clear. Jennifer headed out of the bathroom, a wet cloth pressed to her scratched elbow. That hard contact with the pavement had ripped her skin right off. “Well, seeing as how I had the key to the room and my things are here...” She motioned toward the bed and her one bag. “I’d say that’s a yes. I’m staying here.” Jennifer tried to put a teasing note in her voice.

      But Brodie glared at her. “I expected you to be in a five-star hotel. One with a guard downstairs, making sure that guests were escorted in and out of the place.”

      Ah, right. He still saw her as Jennifer Wesley, heiress. That was very much the wrong image to have. “There was no money left when my father died.” Her words were totally true. Jennifer hated lying to Brodie, so she was trying to stick to the truth as much as possible. “And when my home burned—” burned, exploded into balls of fire “—well, it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of options available to me.” Her luggage bag was filled with clothes that she’d bought during a fast and furious purchase СКАЧАТЬ