Her Irresistible Protector. Michelle Douglas

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СКАЧАТЬ had been wrong. Oh, so, wrong. But that hadn’t stopped her best friend from going down for it all the same. He’d served fifteen months in prison. And she’d unwittingly helped put him there.

      But not again. She’d learned some smarts in the last eight years. She knew better than to trust any man. Especially the one standing in front of her.

      She reached out and took the photographs. The first one showed a house gutted by fire. She tossed it onto the counter. ‘Rick is not, nor has he ever been, an arsonist.’

      The second showed a crashed car. She glanced up and raised an eyebrow.

      ‘The brake lines on the car were deliberately severed. The woman was lucky to get out of it with nothing but a broken collarbone and a concussion.’

      She threw it to the bench to join its partner. ‘Rick would never hurt a woman.’ Rick protected women. She didn’t bother saying that out loud, though. Mitch would never believe her.

      The third and fourth photos made her stomach churn. ‘And he certainly wouldn’t senselessly slaughter animals. That’s...’ The photographs showed a field of sheep with their throats cut. One of them was a close-up. She slammed it face down to the bench. Acid burned her stomach. This was just another of Mitch’s witch-hunts.

      ‘That’s what’s happened to Rick’s last three girlfriends.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Officer King, but I’m afraid I can’t help you with your enquiries.’

      ‘Have you spoken to Rick recently?’

      He’d rung her two nights ago to tell her he was coming to town.

      ‘No.’ She kept her face bland and unreadable. She’d practised and practised that skill until she had it down pat. ‘I haven’t spoken to Rick in months.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not sure I believe you.’

      She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. ‘I don’t care what you believe.’ She paused and forced herself to complete an insolent survey of all six feet two inches of honed male flesh. Mitch still had a great body. She kinked an eyebrow when she met his gaze again, keeping her face bland. ‘But it has to be said, you used a smoother approach last time.’

      And, just like that, the air shimmered with unspoken tension. As if it hadn’t been shimmering enough before!

      ‘You’re never going to forgive me, are you?’

      ‘Nope.’

      ‘I was trying to protect you.’

      ‘Liar.’

      She spoke so softly it almost sounded like an endearment. He took a step back, shrugged his official demeanour back on like a second skin. ‘We have it on fairly good authority that Rick is headed for Sydney.’

      She kept her mouth shut.

      ‘And we think you’re next on his hit list.’

      It took an effort of will not to roll her eyes. ‘Besides the fact that I know Rick would never hurt a woman—any woman—I’ve never been his girlfriend. I think that rules me out, don’t you?’

      ‘No.’

      It was the way he said it. It made her blood run cold. Mitch might not make the law, but he sure as heck ensured it was enforced to the letter. Regardless of the cost—to himself or to others. ‘What makes you so sure I’m next on the hit list?’

      ‘A crumpled-up piece of paper with your address on it.’

      She went cold all over. ‘Found where?’

      ‘In that field of slaughtered sheep.’

      She folded her arms, resisting the urge to chafe them instead.

      ‘Two undercover officers from Central Sydney are on their way here now. One of them fits your description.’

      We have a problem...you won’t like the solution.

      ‘And the bit I’m not going to like?’

      ‘They’re going to stake out your house to wait for Rick, and we have to get you out of here.’

      She went to shake her head.

      ‘For your own protection.’

      It should’ve sounded ludicrously melodramatic, but it didn’t. She stared at him for a long tension-fraught moment, taking in the way his mouth tightened and his shoulders tensed. ‘We meaning you?’

      He nodded.

      ‘This is a bit beneath you these days, isn’t it?’ He’d progressed through the ranks of the force with a speed that was apparently a credit to him and his family. She might call him Officer, but he was a detective now. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t moved to a flashier suburb and wiped the dust of this working-class neighbourhood from the soles of his polished boots. She couldn’t believe he was standing in her kitchen asking her about Rick Bradford again.

      She pointed to the suitcase on the sofa, open but neatly packed. ‘Look, I’m about to head off on holiday for a week. Up the coast. I won’t be around to spoil your stakeout or whatever it is you have planned.’

      ‘You don’t understand, Tash. We need to get you somewhere safe. We don’t want to risk you ending up in hospital...or worse.’

      ‘Why you?’ The question burst from her, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want anything to do with this man. Ever. Again.

      His nostrils flared. ‘My history with Bradford is well known.’ The words came out clipped and short. ‘The powers that be want me out of the way.’

      ‘So even your superiors think your judgement is clouded on the issue?’

      He didn’t say anything. He simply reached across and turned the photograph of the sheep over; spread each photograph out so she could experience their full impact.

      She cut short a shudder. Show no weakness. Rick wasn’t responsible for those dreadful things, but someone was. Someone who wanted to frame him or hurt him in some way. Someone who didn’t care who they hurt in the process. She couldn’t stop her gaze from flicking to the other photos—the burned-out house. How dreadful to lose all you owned in the world in one fell swoop. She glanced around her open-plan kitchen and living room. She didn’t have much, but...

      She glanced at the photo of the crumpled car and swallowed. Some of the questions Rick had asked her the other night made sudden and sinister sense—Have any new people come to the area? Has anything unusual happened lately? He’d asked them all in such a way that he hadn’t raised her suspicions, but now...

      She knew her rights. She could say no. For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t had a holiday ever. But she owed Rick. If she could help bring this situation to a swift conclusion—help clear him—the sacrifice of a holiday would be a small price to pay.

      ‘Where do you mean to take me?’ She didn’t doubt for a moment that Mitch had an ironclad plan.

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