Looking now at Jeremy, she felt something different.

One second spent touring those broad shoulders, and her blood heated in her veins and her mouth went dry. She wanted to talk and get to know him, even as her brain screamed at her to hide until he snuck out of town again.

He cupped her cheek and ran a thumb over her suddenly dry lips. “Do you really not understand the question?”

“I’m not into big men.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Do you know how tempting it is to make a tasteless joke right now?”

The laughter bubbled up from her chest. This time she didn’t try to stop it. She let the amusement flow through her and wipe out some of the horror of the day.

She gave in to the urge to trail her hand across his chest. Firm dips and bulges pressed against her palm. “You’re doing fine.”

“That’s good, because unless you tell me no, I’m going to kiss you. Long and deep, hot and a bit naughty.” He shifted his hands to her hips and pulled her close until his body pressed against hers.

“Jeremy, I—”

“I’ll stop before we go too far, because it’s been a pretty long and not-so-great day, but believe me when I say I won’t want to.”

“Still dealing with that surge of adrenalin?”

“Don’t give the credit to the danger high. It’s been an hour. The night is dark and you’re sexy, and if you wiggle like that one more time, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you into that room.” He nodded in the general direction of the door. “And I won’t care about my bad timing until tomorrow.”

Copy That
HelenKay Dimon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Jennifer Dimon

—my fabulous niece, the college graduate.

I’m so proud of you!

Chapter One

Meredith Samms heard the front door slam. Not hers. This one belonged to the bottom-floor apartment.

She rented the small one-bedroom tucked into the eaves of the blue craftsman-style housexd. Her place stretched all of 550 square feet from one end to the other. Still, she paid more per month for the tiny space than her parents paid for a mortgage on a two-story Colonial on an acre in upstate New York. That’s what happened when you wanted a piece of what many considered paradise—a home three blocks from the ocean in Coronado, the peninsula of prime real estate across the harbor from downtown San Diego.

Garrett Hill lived in the more spacious apartment downstairs. Not that he stayed there often enough to enjoy it. He traveled most days of the month and had been out of town for three solid weeks. Half the time she knew he was home only when she heard the echo of his heavy footsteps.

This trip struck her as odd, the usual blanket of secrecy lifted. A man she’d never seen before had come to the door two days ago looking for Garrett. A courier had left a package for him, saying Garrett gave her name as someone who could sign for it.

Looked as if he’d broken the whole lone-wolf thing he had going on and she had no idea why. She could ask, even though the chance of getting an answer was slim. Heck, he’d never even told her what he did for a living, and she’d sure poked around that topic several times. Good thing she believed in a healthy dose of persistence.

Slipping off the window seat, she grabbed her key and stuffed it into the back pocket of her cut-off denim shorts. The window air conditioner had lost the race against the unusual scorching July afternoon heat. So much for the theory about San Diego always having perfect seventy-something-degree weather.

Thinking maybe heading downstairs for a visit would keep her T-shirt from sticking to her back, she jogged down the steps, letting her running shoes fall heavily to warn of her impending visit. By the time she hit the small entryway at the bottom of the stairs, she expected Garrett to have his door open. Instead it stayed closed.

She knocked twice. On the second rap, the door slipped open as if the wind had pushed it. Since the air stood deadly still today and Garrett was a bit of a security freak, a ball of anxiety started spinning in her chest. With her past, she didn’t scare easily but this scene had Bad Horror Film written all over it.

If she’d lived anywhere other than low-crime, military-presence-everywhere Coronado, she might have bolted. Instead, she eased the door open. “Garrett?”

Only silence bounced back at her.

Her foot crossed the threshold and she heard a small crack. Looking down, she didn’t see anything other than sturdy wood painted a bright, shiny white.

When she looked up again, there he was. Not Garrett. Garrett was tall and muscular, but this guy, the nonGarrett, was enormous. Like, size-of-a-truck enormous. He had blond hair and wore all black to match his dark frown.

Alarm bells chimed in her head. She couldn’t breathe over the clanking and dinging.

She turned to run, and that fast he was on her. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, trapping her arms against her sides as a hand clamped over her mouth. The oversize dial on his watch dug into her stomach as he spun her around to face the family room again and her feet went airborne. Kicking out as she went, her heel hit the door and slammed it hard against the outside wall.

Despite her defensive efforts, before she could blink she was inside and out of sight of anyone who might walk by. But no way was she giving in without a fight.

She thrashed and shook her head from side to side, hoping for a second where she could ease out of his grip and scream for help. Not that his hand across her mouth stopped her from trying. She yelled until all the air left her lungs, but the sound was muffled against his palm.

Her eyes focused on the room. Her heart rate, which had already kicked to near heart-attack range, tripled its beat. The sofa cushions had long, jagged rips in them. The few photos in the apartment lay on the floor, the glass smashed and scattered among the papers and furniture stuffing.

Seeing the destruction fueled her survival instinct. She kicked, this time hitting bone near his calf and earning a grunt from her attacker. Instead of letting go as planned, his hold over her stomach tightened. Much more of this and he’d strangle her.

She moved her head and opened her mouth, letting him think she intended to scream again. When he adjusted his grip over her lips, she bit down into the meaty part of his palm and didn’t stop until she tasted blood.

One second she was standing, nearly bent over from the pressure of his arm against her middle, the next she was spinning through the air. She smacked against the back of the couch with her full weight and felt it bobble and threaten to tip over. One leg folded under her on the cushion as she landed and a shock of pain ran down her spine to her knee.

The combination of dizziness and terror had her stomach heaving. Her vision split in two then refocused just in time to see her attacker looming over her. Blood smeared his cheek and ran down his hand.

“You’ll pay for that” was all he said.

The terse phrase was enough to get her moving again, sore knee and all. She scrambled up the back of the couch, clawing her way over shredded cushions and slipping over the top toward the window. Just as one leg hit the floor, he grabbed the other. Two baseball glove–sized hands held her ankle in a viselike grip.

“You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he said as he started twisting her foot.

She shifted her hips to keep him from breaking it. “What do you want?”

“Came here looking for one thing but looks like I’ll be leaving with another.” He leered at her as he spoke.

The sick gleam in his dark eyes touched off a frenzy of panic inside her. Her hands shook and the urge to throw up almost overtook her. It had been years since she’d experienced violence. She blocked it so that she could function every day, but the memories kicked to the surface now.

“Please let me go.”

The man just laughed. The deep sound, so menacing in its promise of pain, cut across her nerves.

Keep fighting. The words flashed in her brain and ran through her, soaking into every pore.

When one of his palms slid up her calf to the back of her knee, she knew she had a chance. Waiting for just the right moment, when his sick need to control overcame his battle stance, she kicked out as hard as she could. Her heel crashed into his jaw, sending his head flying backward as he yelped in surprise.

She heard the crunch and then she was free. Momentum sent her flying back against the window. She reached for the curtains to steady her weight. With a roaring rip, the rod gave way and she fell on her butt. Wedged between the couch and the wall, she struggled to get her legs under her.

With a rage-filled cry, her attacker reached over the sofa and pulled her to her feet. The bright red cheeks and clenched teeth didn’t scare her half as much as the gun in his hand. She had no idea where it had come from, but it was pointed at the center of her chest.

“You’ll learn.” He practically spit as he talked. His fingers dug into the bare skin of her forearm.

“I have money.” She didn’t, but she needed time.

The house sat off the main strip filled with tourists and shops, but people walked by all the time on their way to the water. If she could stall long enough, a witness might see her by the window, call the police to check it out.

His gaze crept down the front of her blouse. “You have everything I need right on you.”

Disgust clogged her throat as she glanced around looking for something—anything—she could throw through the front window. She spied the overturned lamp on the floor and plotted the best way to drop to the floor and grab it with a man holding on to her arm hard enough to cause bruises.

She’d just resigned herself to a broken arm when she saw a blur of movement behind her attacker. Black hair and stone-cold blue eyes. Six feet of lethal male machine.

Her heart slowed to a jog as the tension rushing through her eased. Everything would be okay now.

Garrett Hill had come home.

The usual military haircut and fatigues were gone, replaced by hair brushed down almost over his eyes and faded blue jeans. In the weeks away, his smile had disappeared but one thing looked the same—his strength. A tight black T-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders and chest, highlighting every muscle.

She’d never been so relieved to see anyone in her life. Her shoulders sagged and she had to fight off a smile when an openmouthed stare replaced the attacker’s snarl as Garrett shoved a gun into the back of the other man’s head.

“Let the lady go, nice and slow.” Garrett reached around and grabbed the other man’s gun.

“This isn’t over, Hill.”

“Sure feels like it is.” Garrett nodded his head at her. “Come over here.”

She didn’t even make it to the other side of the couch before the attacker lunged. He threw his body backward, aiming his head right for Garrett’s chin. Garrett shifted in time to deflect the blow, but the attacker turned around. They were face-to-face with the gun trapped between them. Both of their hands held the weapon as Garrett elbowed the other man in the side of the head.

Already injured, the attacker pulled back. Garrett used the opening to wrestle the gun away. It made a short pffft sound as he shot the attacker in the knee.

The man went down with a whoosh, squealing and moaning as he dropped to the hardwood. Glass crunched under him where he rolled around.

She watched the blood stream onto the floor right before Garrett slammed his weapon against the attacker’s head, sending him into a deadly quiet sprawl.

Then Garrett was there, right in front of her. “Are you okay?”

She tried to look past Garrett’s stiff shoulders to the still body below. “Is he dead?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“I don’t understand. Who is that?”

“No idea.”

“I don’t—” The words died in her throat when he touched her shoulder, bringing her gaze back to him. She couldn’t remember a time in the year since she’d moved in when he’d touched her. “How can you not recognize him? He was in your house.”

“There are two things you need to know.” Garrett waited until she nodded before continuing. “First, we need to get out of here right now.”

She didn’t exactly disagree but she wanted to understand. “Don’t we need to…?”

His eyebrow rose. “What?”

“I don’t know. Something.”

“Okay, then. My second point.” He held up another finger. “I’m not Garrett.”

Chapter Two

For the most part, Jeremy Hill thought the woman took both pieces of information pretty well. Didn’t balk or ask questions as he steered her to the front door and onto the porch, which was good since he had only a few minutes to get her calm and out of there.

Not many people could face down a trained killer, handle some scary and unexpected information and stay on their feet. Add in a nasty bout of manhandling and she should be screaming by now. But her facial expression didn’t even change.

He was impressed.

He had no idea who she was or why she was here. If he had more time, he’d appreciate the sweet pair of legs sticking out from under those shorts. He almost swore when a double kick of attraction and envy hit him. Garrett had kept quiet about this woman. Part of Jeremy understood why.

Of course, Garrett shouldn’t be with any woman except his fiancée…or was it former fiancée? Jeremy wasn’t sure where that relationship stood, but Garrett’s last message had suggested trouble. Not that Jeremy had time to worry about that now.

The woman in front of him started blinking. “Did you hit your head?”

From the look on her face he wondered if she had. “Uh, no.”

“Fall down?”

He held up both hands, including the one with the loaded gun. “Okay, let me just stop you before you run through every possible injury scenario. I’m fine.”

She snorted. “You sure sound like Garrett.”

Not the first time he’d heard that. “Probably because I’m his brother.”

“Brother?”

“Yes.” The confusion hadn’t left her eyes, so he nodded to emphasize his answer. “He didn’t tell you he had an identical twin?”

Her chest rose and fell on a hard breath. “No, but I guess that would explain it.”

“Not a surprise. He tends to be private.”

She snorted. “There’s an understatement.”

Seemed she did know Garrett. In their respective lines of work, the brothers kept their personal lives secret. It was an unspoken way of protecting each other. Their bond could transcend weeks, months even, without communication. They didn’t need to announce it in every conversation.

Jeremy had been in the field in Arizona as a Border Patrol agent. He’d come in for a mandatory break. His agenda included nothing more than a few beers and maybe a Padres game. He’d earned some rest and relaxation time. With nothing but miles of desolate desert and days spent chasing drug runners for miles on end, walking into San Diego had been like stepping into a cleansing shower.

Now this. Jeremy didn’t know what Garrett had done or whom he’d ticked off, but something big was happening here and Jeremy had managed to jump right into the middle of it by accident.

So much for the idea of a thirty-day recuperation period while hanging out with his brother by the beach.

Jeremy slipped his cell out of his back pocket and hit a button for the preprogrammed number. He knew the person on the other end would have his identity and location in less than fifteen seconds, with or without the code word. He said it anyway. “Roman five.”

The woman in front of him just stared. “What does that—”

“Hill residence.” He held up a finger as he talked into the silence on the other end of the phone. Someone somewhere would be taping the distress call and he didn’t want her voice being overheard. “Need immediate assistance.” He hung up.

She found her first smile; it was shaky but there. “Roman? I’m guessing that’s a password?”

He shrugged. “Dramatic but I didn’t pick it.”

“That was sort of a one-sided conversation.”

“All it takes is one call.”

“You have a special ‘in’ with law enforcement the rest of us aren’t privy to?”

Clearly the woman had no idea what Garrett did for a living. “My brother has friends in the right places.”

“I wouldn’t know. He’s not exactly the sharing type.”

“True. Garrett can keep a secret forever if he needs to.” He took his oath seriously. They both did.

Funny how Garrett had even forgotten to mention his pretty neighbor. But Jeremy sure noticed her. Straight shoulder-length blondish-brown hair and big brown eyes. The shirt hinted at a comfortable curviness that trumped the stick-figure California type every time in his book.

He loved the softness of women. Their smell and inviting smiles. Mix that with a wariness of someone who had seen the rougher parts of life and you had his attention.

And how she’d gone after the attacker, waiting for the right moment to strike, was pure magic.

“May as well make this official.” He held out his hand. “Jeremy Hill. Younger brother by thirty-four minutes.”

She slid her hand into his. “Meredith Samms. Kindergarten teacher and woman right on the edge of vomiting.”

“Please don’t. I’d honestly rather you shoot me.” He’d take a firefight over dry heaving any day.

“Believe it or not, I’m trying not to be sick.”

Way he figured it, help was still two minutes away. He’d hoped to take her mind off the horror then get her down the steps and out without incident, but his time was up. They had to go.

“You teach your students those kicking moves?”

“I might now.” She inhaled and let her breath out nice and slow as she stared at a fixed point across the street. “I like to think I’m pretty smart, but I’m totally confused about what’s going on here.”

“Understandable.”

“My hands won’t stop shaking.” She turned her palms up.

He slid his hands under hers and felt her nerves jump around. When he realized his did, too, and not from fear, he dropped his arms to his sides. “Adrenaline. It will pass.”

“Will the urge to throw up?”

He sure hoped so. “That takes a bit more practice.”

He glanced through the window into the ransacked family room, seeing if there was anything he could salvage before they booked out of there. Guy still knocked out on the floor. Good. Nothing else looked much like it was worth keeping. Jeremy knew without a full house inspection the only thing that mattered, or had any value, stood in front of him with eyes the size of basketballs.

“Anyone else in the house, to your knowledge?” he asked as he eased away from the door and down the stairs, taking her with him toward the sidewalk without even touching her.

“No.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she took turns peeking at the door and watching her step.

“You haven’t seen Sara?”

Meredith stopped moving. “Who’s Sara?”

Well, that answered the question about the current state of Garrett’s love life. “That sounds like a ‘no’ on Sara.”

The questions kept piling up. Jeremy planned to track down his brother the second they got out of there and start asking a few.

“I thought Garrett was home, but I guess not,” Meredith said.

“Just me, and I walked in on that guy. Watched him for about fifteen minutes to see what he was looking for.” Jeremy cleared his throat as he tried to block the guilt kicking his gut. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I had a problem by the back door and had to find a way around it.”

“I’m fine.” Meredith shook her head, as if trying to block out his words. “Are the police on the way?”

“I hope not.”

She finally landed on the last step. “Excuse me?”

“We don’t need them.”

She backed away. The move wasn’t huge, more like inches, but she shifted into a clear path for a run down the front walk to the street. “Now I’m really confused.”

Jeremy chose his words carefully. No need to spook her even more. With his luck today, she’d panic and accidentally jump in front of a car. “We need a certain level of expertise here.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Her words came out slow and measured.

Yeah, she was right on the edge of bolting. He could see it in every line of her body and in the tension stretching across her lips.

“Remember how it took me a few extra minutes to get to you and how I told you we had to get out of the house as fast as possible?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Here’s the other thing I said was important.” He hesitated until her face paled. “It’s under control now, but—”

“Jeremy, just tell me.”

“The back door is rigged with explosives.”

A NEW WAVE of panic crashed over Meredith. Her knees buckled and she would have gone right down except for the sudden touch of Jeremy’s hands under her elbows.

“Whoa.” He ducked his head until his gaze met hers. “You okay?”

“We have to get out of here.” She looked up and down the street, her movements frantic and out of control now, every cell in her body exploding into action. “Clear the neighborhood so no one gets hurt.”

“It’s fine.”

She dug her fingernails into the bare skin of his forearms. “How can you say that?”

“The trigger is hooked to the door. Well, was. I detached it.”

“So it’s safe.”

“I’m not an explosives expert, but it can’t blow unless someone rigs it again.” He let go of her and grabbed keys out of his front jeans pocket. “You’re going to get in my car and drive away from here—”

“But you said—”

“Just as a precaution.” He held up his hands as if surrendering to her. “And I’m going to wait for the team to arrive.”

She could barely hear him over the buzzing in her ears. “What team?”

“Garrett’s people.” Jeremy put the keys in her palm and closed her fingers over them.

Her mind spun and the first stupid thought in her head ran right to her mouth. “I don’t have my wallet or my license.”

The corner of Jeremy’s mouth kicked up in a smile but his eyes stayed steely cold. “Not your biggest problem at the moment.”

“I guess not.” Reality settled over her. “Tell me the truth. Are you staying calm so I don’t panic?”

His mouth opened and closed before answering. “Yes.”

“But this is bad, right?”

“Very.”

For some reason, the honesty eased the spinning ball of terror inside her. “Okay. This doesn’t have anything to do with the package, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Someone dropped off a package for Garrett. It was wrapped in brown paper and this big.” She made a square with her hands. “It stuck with me because it was so odd. Maybe that’s what the guy was looking for.”

“I think he wanted Garrett.”

She had no idea what to say to that. “Oh.”

“I’ll do a quick check.” Jeremy put his hand on the small of her back and edged her in the direction of the car. “It’s the blue Mustang. You go.”

She looked over her shoulder, about to make a comment on his car choice being the same as Garrett’s except in color, when she saw a flash in the front-door window.

Jeremy took one look at her expression and his face went blank. He spun around and raced up the porch steps. He yanked the door open then slammed it shut just as fast.

Before she could blink, he shot back down the steps, his feet barely touching as he reached for her. His hands landed on her shoulders as he half pushed, half shoved her toward the street.

Her sneakers skidded across the sidewalk at the end of the small front yard before a surge of hot air swept underneath her body, sending it airborne. Her muscles went weightless as a clap of thunder exploded behind her.

As she flew, the air stopped as if sucked up into a vacuum, then rolled back out in a rush. Burning heat licked at her from every direction. Her skin itched, feeling all prickly and singed, but all she could see was the ground rushing up to meet her face.

She would have crashed headfirst into the street but Jeremy twisted, his arms coming around her, as his back knocked against the hard cement and she slammed into his chest. Their bodies bounced and her vision blurred, then focused long enough for her to see him grimace.

With his face right next to hers, she heard his sharp inhale over what sounded like a thundering drumroll. She struggled to sit up, but he dragged her back down, pulling her under him and covering every inch of her body with his. He probably outweighed her by a good seventy pounds, and the added heat from his skin nearly suffocated her.

She peeked through the small space between his arm and the ground and saw shoes and the tires of a car stopped in the middle of the street. When she swallowed, her ears popped and the muffled echoes gave way to screaming reality. She could hear sirens and talking and someone calling her name.

Jeremy lifted his body off hers and tugged on her shoulder until she flipped to her back. The burning smell hit her, like the scent of fireplaces during the few cold days of the year, but that couldn’t be right. It was summer.

“Meredith, open your eyes.”

The command came to her in a raspy voice and she obeyed without thinking. A man loomed over her, his face dark with soot and eyes filled with concern. It took her a second to put the pieces together. “Jeremy?”

He nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure.” She struggled to sit up.

He turned to talk to a group of people gathered around them. “Everybody step back.”

She could hear questions and bits of conversation all around her. And the crackling—it was as if someone was breaking bunches of twigs right next to her ear.

This time she grabbed on to Jeremy’s muscled arms and used him to help her crawl off the ground. He sat back on his heels, taking her with him to a sitting position.

Her heart sputtered to a stop as she sat on the sidewalk and watched the flames devour her house. The lower floor was nothing more than a mass of bright red and orange. Sparks rose into the air as the fire tore through the trees, walls, furniture—all gone.

Glass covered the grass. Upstairs, the only thing she recognized was the tattered remains of her once pretty off-white eyelet curtain blowing through the opening of what remained of her bedroom window.

“It’s just stuff,” he whispered, but his voice rose above the sirens, squealing tires and the older woman who stood in the street and wailed in horror about “the devil’s heat”…whatever that meant.

Through it all Meredith felt the heat of Jeremy’s stare and finally faced him. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He glanced down to where she had his shirt in a stranglehold.

“Sorry.” She forced her fingers to unclench.

“No problem.”

“Everything is gone.” She didn’t know she’d said the words out loud until Jeremy grunted. She looked at him again, watching him scan the crowd. Tension radiated off him as every muscle pulled taut. “Are you okay?”

“We need to get out of here.” He glanced at a point over her shoulder and gave a small nod.

“What are you—”

He stood, stopping about halfway up as his lips turned white and he swore.

“Jeremy.” Seeing him in pain, she jumped to her feet and slipped her shoulder under his arm to help him the rest of the way up. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said through clenched teeth, as he signaled to someone behind her. “At least we know what was probably in that mystery package.”

“A bomb.”

“I saw a guy hold up a cell phone, likely a secondary trigger, right before I bolted down the steps.”

Her mind rebelled. Rather than dealing with what he was saying, she shifted to nurse mode. “You need medical attention.”

“Later. We’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?” She struggled under his weight. “And please say ‘to the hospital.’”

“Somewhere safe.”

When the black SUV stopped in front of them and the back door opened, she wondered if his idea of safe looked anything like hers.

Chapter Three

The driver opened the door and slid out of his seat. Gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked the four steps to the sidewalk. The fire crackled around them and more people gathered as the wailing sirens drew closer.

The man lowered his sunglasses but gave the flames little more than a quick glance. His unblinking attention focused on Jeremy as his eyes narrowed. “Garrett?”

Through a haze of pain, radiating from his side and screaming through every cell, Jeremy conducted a visual check of his own. He detected two weapons under slight bulges and assumed there were at least twice as many hidden beneath the other man’s out-of-place black jacket and dark jeans.

The combination of the heat, fire and heavy clothing would melt most guys in a matter of seconds. Not this one. Not a drop of sweat on him. The cool cockiness almost convinced Jeremy without verification that this was one of Garrett’s men. Almost.

“I’m his brother.” Jeremy left his badge in his back pocket, since his face made his connection to Garrett clear. “You?”

“We need to leave.”

“No way am I getting in that car,” Meredith whispered under her breath as she inched her way to Jeremy’s far side.

He understood. Smart women stayed on constant guard. They didn’t trust men they didn’t know and they certainly didn’t get into cars with two strangers. He appreciated the fear, even admired her smarts, but she still didn’t have a choice. Until he knew what was going on and who had launched the attack, he planned to stay close.

First, he had to confirm the identity of their driver. Danger pulsed all around them without adding more.

“Westfield 78.” The man said the prearranged security code.

The tension strangling Jeremy’s shoulders eased. “Durham 72.”

“Excuse me?” She looked from one man to the other. “Are we just saying random words?”

Jeremy fought off a smile for the first time since this whole mess started. “An old high-school basketball score.”

Her eyes bulged. “Is now the time for that?”

The man nodded. “Joel Kidd.”

Jeremy knew the name. Garrett never talked about his operations, only the team he’d handpicked and admired. His success depended on being surrounded by loyal men who could fight, then blend into their surroundings for a quick getaway.

Joel glanced in the direction where the house had once stood. “Tell me Garrett’s not in there.”

“He isn’t.” Jeremy inhaled long and deep in an effort to bring his heartbeat out of thumping range and focus his thoughts.

“Hostiles?”

“Two in the house. One definitely went out in a ball of fire because he was unconscious. Unconfirmed on the other. Could be more on the scene.”

A fire truck raced around the end of the block and headed right for them. As it sped up, Joel’s detachment faded. “Authorities are here, which means questions. We need to leave.”

Meredith frowned. “If by ‘authorities’ you mean police, then no. They’re the good guys.” When neither man said anything, Meredith’s frown deepened. “Right?”

Joel opened the back door. “Get in.”

Meredith pivoted, her body facing away from him as if ready for flight. “Not to sound like I have trust issues, but no.”

“You know me.” Jeremy waved Joel off when his hand shifted to his hip. Jeremy knew what that meant. “It’s safe.”

One nod or an eyebrow lift and Joel would render her unconscious. Jeremy preferred to have her permission for this trip. It would make whatever came next much easier if she trusted him. He also hated the idea of taking a woman out even if it qualified as the safest way of extracting a potential victim.

“I know your brother, not you. And it would appear I barely know him.” She sneaked her third peek at the police car stopping a house away.

“Same thing.”

“Not quite.”

Joel shoved his glasses back on his nose and dropped his hands to his sides. “I can put her in the car.”

She whipped around to face him. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing good.” Which was why Jeremy refused to use that option.

She inched her feet back, edging closer to the people gathered behind them. “You’re not making me feel more confident.”

“Until I know what’s happening here, I want you protected,” Jeremy said as he continued to scan the area for easy exits and potential threats.

She nodded. “The police are right over—”

“Protected by me. Garrett would kill me if I did otherwise.” Jeremy put his hand on her elbow before she could bolt. He pulled her toward the car in a tug he hoped appeared to bystanders as more concerned and loving than covert. “And we need to go now.”

She shifted her weight to her heels and skidded to a stop. “Are you running from the police or something?”

“I’m a different kind of law enforcement. Border Patrol. And I’m trying to get us out of here before the guy who set off the explosion finds us.”

Her body went limp at that. “You think the guy from the front door is still alive?”

“I’m not willing to wait around and find out.” Jeremy took advantage of her momentary shock and crowded her against the side of the car.

His body blocked her view of the house and, more importantly, the police’s view of her. Using his weight and height advantage, he pressed against her until she lifted her leg and slipped onto the seat.

Joel’s mouth kicked up. “Nice move.” He jumped into the driver’s seat.

Without Joel’s shoulders blocking the view, Jeremy saw the other end of the street. Spied the man standing behind a trio of neighborhood wives who were still holding a bottle of wine and glasses as they hovered in a yard three houses down. It was the same man who’d triggered the blaze.

The roar of the car engine as it turned over bolted Jeremy into action. “Hold up.”

“I never agreed…” She followed Jeremy’s gaze, peeking over the seat in front of her. “What’s wrong with you? What do you see?”

“The bomber.” Jeremy already had the door open and his feet on the ground.

She grabbed his sleeve. She weighed all of 130 pounds and she trapped his elbow in a deadlock. “Don’t you dare leave this car.”

“He’s headed between two houses near the end of the street.”

“And you are not leaving me alone—” her gaze flicked to the back of Joel’s head “—here.”

Joel eyed her in the rearview mirror. “I won’t hurt you.”

The churning in Jeremy’s gut revved up when the bomber ducked behind the house.

This time she dug her fingernails into his arm. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen enough woman-abducted-and-left-in-pieces-in-a-box television specials not to take your word for it.”

Jeremy knew he could rip his arm out of her grasp, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t want to lose his one lead either. “Not sure what to say to that, but—”

Her second hand joined the first and she started tugging him back into the car as he looked around. “No.”

One of the policemen herding the crowds onto the sidewalk picked that moment to look up. His gaze zeroed in on the SUV and Jeremy knew his time for an explosive run had passed. Scram now and he’d have the police following.

Jeremy ground his teeth together. “The guy is getting away.”

“You’re the one who insisted on dragging me along with you, so now you’re stuck.”

Joel barked out a laugh. “Guess she told you.”

Jeremy took one last look at the policeman. He waved off the woman talking to him and reached for the radio on his shoulder. Jeremy knew the drill. The officer would run Joel’s license plates. Then who knew what would happen.

“This car yours?” Jeremy asked as he closed the door again and leaned back in his seat. He winced over the ripping sensation in his side but pushed the pain out of his mind.

“It’s registered to a company.”

“A real one?”

“On paper only.”

Meredith surrendered the death grip on his arm but didn’t let go. “That’s comforting.”

Despite his fury over losing his prey, Jeremy agreed with her sarcasm. “Drive around the corner and I’ll see if I can find our guy on the next block.”

“You’re still not leaving this car.” She mumbled the comment as she stared at his profile.

Jeremy tried to remember the last time he’d let a woman’s begging derail a chase. Then it hit him…never.

ELLIS MARTIN SMOOTHED his fingers over his mustache. He’d had the thing for almost thirty years, since he graduated from college. The small action soothed him. In this case, it kept him from exploding all over his new and supposedly brilliant assistant.

His throat ached with the need to scream, but Ellis fought back the rage. “I’ve run out of patience.”

“I understand, sir. But—”

“Stop there.” All the impressive grades in his Ivy League education hadn’t taught Andrew Hare the common-sense business principle of knowing when to shut up and listen. Ellis decided the younger man had better learn quickly or he’d have one of the shortest tenures in the Defense Intelligence Agency ever—four days.

Counterintelligence demanded a steep learning curve, and so far Andrew had spent most of his time repeating instructions. Book smart, maybe. Capable of reading reactions and completing difficult tasks? Not so far.

“Excuse me, sir?”

And he said excuse me far too often. “Hill has been out of contact and running for a week now. I’ve had enough. You bring Hill back here, now. In pieces if you have to.”

“We have a problem.”

“That’s not a sentence I want to hear.” Ellis leaned back in his big leather chair. He wrapped his fingers around the arms to fight off the urge to strangle Andrew. Human Resources hated that sort of thing.

“I know, but—”

His nails dug a little deeper. “I want results, not excuses.”

“Our man just got to the scene. He says the place is on fire.”

“What?”

“Witnesses said they heard a loud bang. An explosion. The windows blew out and the fire raced out of control almost immediately.” Andrew talked so fast the sentences ran into each other.

Ellis glanced over his shoulder. If his office had a window, if any of the offices on this floor had one, it would be right behind him. Instead, this part of the suite consisted of interior rooms. No one could look in, and thanks to a list of security procedures, no information got out. Or that was the theory.

“It was a gas leak.” He’d said the response enough times for it to become automatic. The cover worked well enough for him to have the appropriate form in his desk and an electric-company official on speed dial.

“How can you know that?” Andrew asked.

Ellis wondered if the idea of on-the-job training was such a good idea after all. From now on he’d insist on hiring the guy with street smarts and a B average over the one with the shiny résumé that appealed to a hiring committee worried about recruiting the best on-paper students available.

“Within a week we will discover the cause. It will be a gas leak. I can guarantee it.”

“I see.”

Ellis seriously doubted that. “Where’s Hill now?”

“Gone.”

With the news of the explosion, Ellis had started analyzing his options, but all of that slammed to a halt with this latest development. Every breath of air sucked out of the room until the dark-paneled room closed in like a prison cell. “Hill went up with the house?”

“I don’t…”

Ellis stood up, every muscle in his body snapping to life. “Either say what you need to say right now or I’ll transfer you to a field office in Alaska and find someone else to do your job.”

Andrew cleared his throat. When he spoke again, gone was the nervous newbie who shook enough to rattle his teeth when he talked. This time his voice rang clear and deep as his shoulders pulled tight into military attention. “Our guy on the ground is hearing reports about Hill getting away.”

“How?”

“In a car. He had help.”

“Who?”

“Unclear at the moment.” Andrew gave his report and checked his notes, suddenly acting like a seasoned pro. “Someone who drives a car registered to Foxtrot Enterprises.”

Ellis didn’t need to look up the name. Hill had created the corporate entity as part of his cover. Ellis paid the monthly lease on the car every month from the budget for Hill’s team.

“So, inside help.” An internal debate waged in Ellis as to whether that was a good or bad thing. Garrett alone was lethal. Operating with his dedicated team made him unstoppable.

“It would appear so, sir.”

“Keep in mind nothing is ever as it appears with Garrett Hill. We trained him to defy expectations, so confirm every detail before you take it as gospel.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“You have an hour.”

Chapter Four

When the car eased around the corner and slowed to a stop, Meredith thought she’d gone to sleep and woken up in the middle of a strange action movie. She leaned forward, balancing her elbows on her knees. Her hands shook as she examined the cuts and scrapes on her palms.

Real people went to the hospital after being thrown by an explosion and nearly turned into a piece of burned toast. Real people did not chase after bad guys. Real people ran to the police and screamed for help.

Real life sure didn’t include finding out about a previously unknown twin brother or hanging out with men who carried guns. Not her life. Not anymore. She’d left violence behind in favor of stability. She didn’t run from the law.

She glanced over and saw the gun in Jeremy’s hand. Heard him tap his foot against the floor as his knee bounced to the steady rhythm only he could hear. “Who are you?”

His focus never wavered. He stared out the window. “Jeremy Hill.”

“You know what I mean.”

His gaze locked on her, all his intensity boring into her, and the next words she intended to say jammed in her throat.

“I’m going to protect you.”

The promises men made. “I’ve heard that before.”

At nineteen she’d heard and believed them. Vows of love and fidelity, talk of being together forever. But between the sweet touches and mind-blowing kisses he’d drop a line about her weight. About her friends being loud or dumb. About her leaving school and following him back to the Midwest because she wouldn’t need a job once they settled in their house.

She justified his behavior and made excuses for the way he isolated her. The latter made her nuts. She sneaked out to meet friends for coffee and ignored their concerned stares and dropped comments about male friends they knew who would love her. She pretended she didn’t hear the whispers as she walked away and fell deeper into his cocoon of supposed protection.

Just thinking about those days made her stomach tumble until she thought it would roll right out of her and land on the floor. The familiar fear rushed back and momentarily panicked her. The bile in her throat and trembling in her muscles—it all played like a broken record of a song she’d rather forget.

Clint had stolen something from her and she’d been fighting her entire adult life to get it back. Dignity. Selfrespect.

The safety classes and hours logged at the shooting range helped. But now, sitting in a car with men she didn’t know, all those old insecurities rushed over her. She fought off waves of debilitating self-bashing and reached for that inner balance she’d vowed never to lose again.

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “What does that cryptic comment mean?”

“I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

“This isn’t a liberation issue or some sort of battle of the sexes.”

“Really? Feels like it.”

“No one appreciates a strong woman more than I do. I saw you kick and fight and go after that intruder. You’re a survivor and there’s nothing more attractive to me than that.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Uh, Jeremy? Maybe we should focus.”

Jeremy talked over him. The rise in his voice’s volume was the only nod to the fact that Joel had made any noise. “But, like it or not, we have to be realistic about men’s physical advantages. Weight and strength all matter. I’m not saying you can’t win, but it’s not easy.”

She didn’t want size to play a role, but she was smart enough to know it did. Her self-defense instructor made that clear. He also gave some hints on how to even the battle.

“I’m quite familiar with men who lead with fists,” she said.

Jeremy’s gaze wandered over her face. It felt as if an hour passed before he spoke again, though it was probably more like seconds. “I don’t want the guy hunting for Garrett to target you. He’ll have a gun—”

“I can shoot.”

Jeremy’s head snapped back as if he hadn’t expected that answer. He glanced at Joel in the mirror then back to her. “Practicing on a target or cans of whatever and actually aiming at a person are different things.”

She knew that all too well, but she had no intention of sharing that information. “And?”

“I’ll shoot without blinking.”

“People will look for me. I have friends and neighbors. People are going to ask questions.”

At least, she hoped that was true. She hadn’t lived in Coronado long. She spent her time reading in the park and dreaded any invitation to hang out in a bar with coworkers looking for men. The whole “get drunk and find some random guy to sleep with” thing left her feeling hollow. She wasn’t a prude but the bar scene, complete with all the stupid games and fake attraction stunts, had never appealed to her.

Joel stretched his arm along the back of the seat. “She’s right. Her absence will cause questions.”

“I’m only asking for a few hours.” Jeremy’s jaw tightened to the point of cracking with each word. “You can trust me that long.”

“Not if you’re running around shooting at people.”

“Last time I pulled a weapon I stopped a guy from touching you.”

The memories of the horrible morning bombarded her. The headache kicked in a second later. “True.”

“Sorry.” He exhaled as he put his hand on her knee. “Look, someone tried to kill my brother, to kill you. I need to know who and why so I can protect you both. And time is slipping away. The guy has a huge head start. It may already be too late to find a trail.”

“Good.” The answer worked for both his comment and for the warmth spiraling through her body at the touch of his palm against her bare skin.

“I’ll be careful, but I do need to do this.” He gave her leg a quick squeeze then tapped on the back of Joel’s seat. “Stay here.”

She was no longer panicked about her safety. Now she was ticked off. Being dragged around without any explanation did that to a woman.

“Absolutely not,” she said in her best teacher voice.

The locks clicked right before Joel turned around. “For the record, I agree with the lady.”

“My name is Meredith.”

“Meredith.” He smiled at her before his mouth flat-lined and his attention returned to Jeremy. “How does this play out? There are cops everywhere. We have a civilian in the car.”

Civilian?

“Unlock the door.” Jeremy’s deep voice rattled with a deadly echo.

A second click bounced around the silent car. Then he was gone.

The whole rescuer thing should impress her. In some ways it did. In others it filled her with flaming frustration. If Jeremy intended to save her, she needed him to be alive to do it.

“Let’s go.” She opened the door before Joel could lock her in. That would teach him to hesitate.

“Whoa.” He jumped out of the car and raced around to meet her at the hood.

“That’s the fastest I’ve seen you move since you drove up.”

“I’ll be running pretty damn fast when Jeremy tries to kill me for letting you out of this car.”

“I’m not rushing in to help. You are.”

“Wait, what?”

The plan seemed simple enough in her head, but Joel’s scowl suggested otherwise. “I know you won’t leave me alone. I also know Jeremy should have backup. So, you move and I hang back and then maybe, just maybe, we’ll live through the next ten minutes.”

“I can’t guarantee that.”

“Or I can scream for the police and end this now.”

His entire demeanor changed. His hand went to his gun and he rolled his shoulders back as every inch of him vibrated with a new alertness. “You don’t fight fair.”

She doubted he even knew how. With the mention of a battle he automatically prepared to step in. That instinct appeared to be ingrained. “I have a feeling it might be the only way to win an argument with you or Jeremy.”

JEREMY TRIED TO concentrate on tracking but Meredith’s comments ran through his head. He’d seen her survival instinct in action. He’d expected her to shake and cry after being pawed and nearly blown up. Any sane person would. Instead, she’d soldiered through.

Now she talked about guns and protection like a woman who had done battle and knew there were rarely any real winners when it came to violence. Made him wonder what she’d seen in her life and who had taught her those tough lessons.

The idea of her being on the receiving end made him want to hit someone. He still wanted to kick his own butt for not being able to disarm the device at the back door and get to her faster when that animal touched her in Garrett’s family room.

In a little over an hour she’d managed to worm her way into his thoughts. Instead of focusing on the task in front of him, he was thinking about her past.

It wasn’t the first time that worrying about a woman had thrown him off stride. He had the knife wound in his side as a constant reminder.

He stopped along the side of a house. Without moving, he drew on his powers of concentration, trying to bring his focus back to the hunt. He shoved out the sirens and talking, the roar of the fire and chatter from all the people gathered to watch Garrett’s house melt into ash.

Centered again, Jeremy slipped into the backyard of the beige bungalow at the end of the block. He took in the small patch of grass and the fenced-in vegetable garden in the far left corner. Two steps led up to an entrance and an open screen door. No one lingered, but the attacker could have dragged a new victim into the house as his shield.

The tingle at the base of his neck had Jeremy glancing behind him. The sight of Joel sneaking across the lawn and Meredith hovering within shooting range sent rage burning through him. He didn’t need a team. He’d planned to go in and out before Meredith faced one more second of danger.

Not going to happen now.

At the near-silent tap of a shoe against cement, Jeremy tensed, waiting for the shot to come. He ducked as he spun around, but the attacker made his move and launched his body off the top step at Jeremy’s midsection.

The flash of a gun and a hint of a feral smile. A heavy body crashed into Jeremy, slamming him into the flagstone path leading around the house and sending his gun skidding into the grass. Air rushed out of his lungs as his side screamed with blinding pain.

In the second before his vision cleared and his senses returned, his attacker pinned his arm to the ground with his knee. Jeremy’s muscle cramped and tore as he tried to roll the other man off him. He shifted enough to nail the guy in the back with his leg.

Jeremy could hear Joel’s shouts and Meredith’s cries for help. Knowing they were closing in and drawing unwanted attention, that with one simple shift the attacker could shoot and take them out, Jeremy dipped into his strength reserves. He bucked his hips and grabbed for the gun in the grass as he knocked his other fist into the side of his attacker’s head.

“Put the weapon down!” Joel yelled.

Footsteps slapped against the walkway as Joel and Meredith came closer. Jeremy grabbed for the attacker’s gun. Anything to keep it from pointing in Meredith’s direction. Joel could fight back and defend. He had the training and the skills. She was an innocent bystander.

Jeremy’s fingers wrapped around the hot metal as he strained to push the barrel toward the other man. Jeremy braced his back against the ground as he kicked out to unbalance his attacker. The guy’s quick look at Joel gave Jeremy an opening. He slammed his elbow into the attacker’s jaw, sending his head flying back and loosening his hold on the gun.

Jeremy tore the weapon away, ready to fire, but the attacker stopped him with a sucker punch, right on his fresh wound.

Fire raced through Jeremy’s body as his breath hiccuped and his body jackknifed. Pain exploded in every brain cell. His fingers went numb and the gun dropped to the ground next to him.

With a sound somewhere between a roar and a laugh, the attacker slipped a knife out of his belt and aimed it right for Jeremy’s gut. One second he saw the other man’s teeth and a face splotched red with rage. The next a boom thundered around them.

As if in slow motion, the attacker slid off Jeremy and fell to his side. Blood trickled from the small hole in his forehead as a sea of red pooled beneath him in the grass.

Jeremy looked up in time to see the bleak determination in Joel’s eyes as he lowered his weapon. He’d done exactly what Garrett had taught him to do…kill the bad guys. The question was whether the answers they needed stopped with the man bleeding out on the ground.

“Jeremy!”

“I’m okay.” He could barely move his mouth, but he forced the words out. He also put up a hand to keep Meredith from plowing into him as part of her rescue plan.

A few more seconds and he’d pass out. Being knocked unconscious would be the perfect ending to this crappy day. But instead of hugging him, she dropped to her knees and brushed her hands over his chest as if he were made of glass.

“He shot you.”

“How did that happen?” Joel checked the attacker for a pulse then took up position on Jeremy’s other side.

“It didn’t.” Jeremy leaned on both of them to sit up and couldn’t hide the sharp inhale when he pressed his hand against his side. “He alive?”

“No,” Joel said.

“There’s blood all over you.” She reached over Jeremy to Joel. “Give me your jacket.”

Joel didn’t hesitate. He ripped it off his shoulders and wadded it into a ball.

When she pressed it against the wound, Jeremy’s world started to spin. “Not shot.”

Meredith bunched his shirt in her fist and exposed his bare chest before returning the makeshift bandage to his side. “He got you.”

“Old knife wound. I reopened it. Not a big deal.” With each breath he took, the house in front of him shimmered and shifted. With his head tilted to the side, the landscape morphed from bright colors to dull gray. That had to be a bad sign.

“That’s it. No more excuses.” She jumped to her feet but stayed crouched at his side. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

Jeremy grabbed her arm and tightened until the black-and-white vision in front of him blurred then shifted back into place.

“She’s right.” Joel took out his cell. “You need medical attention.”

“Just a safe house and a first-aid kit.” Jeremy tried to harness all his energy to get to his feet. If he sprawled on his back he’d lose any chance of convincing them to go along with his plan.

“You’ll bleed to death if we don’t get you help.” She nodded at her hand and the blood seeping through the jacket.

She had a point but he wasn’t ready to admit it. “I need an ID on the dead guy and for someone to find Garrett.”

Jeremy pushed out the worst fears about his brother being hurt or injured. He’d know. He’d feel it in his gut. The connection they shared extended that far. It bound them when the miles kept them apart for months. Like when Garrett got shot two years ago and lay bleeding in a hospital in a country where no one knew his name. Jeremy had sensed it all.

“You win. I’ll call it in to the office.” Joel pressed a few buttons, then put the cell to his ear.

All the color rushed out of her cheeks. “You two can’t be serious about treating this with simple first aid.”

“We’re going into hiding,” Jeremy said.

Her hands flattened against his chest. “We?”

“The two of us.”

“Oh, really?” Her voice turned positively frosty as she sat back on her heels.

For some reason, her slip from panic to angry teacher mode restored some of his strength. “I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck with me for a while longer.”

“Who says?”

That one was easy. “Me.”

Chapter Five

“It’s been an hour and thirteen minutes since you went to collect information. I’ve been paging you for the last ten.” Ellis stopped pacing and shuffling the papers in his hands long enough to glare at Andrew. “You’d better have some good news to explain your delay.”

“Not exactly.” Andrew shut the office door behind him and stepped inside. Not far. Just in front of the door at the edge of the dark blue carpet. As if distance would save him from his new boss’s wrath.

“And by that do you mean ‘no’?”

“Garrett Hill is still missing.” The younger man visibly swallowed but his voice stayed strong. He didn’t as much as shift his feet as he delivered the bad news.

“Unacceptable.”

Andrew spent far too long studying the file in front of him before responding. “Our man in Coronado says—”

“Stop.” Ellis dropped his stack of folders on the desk and slid into his chair. The silence stretched out, ratcheting up the tension as it built. He could have eased the choking panic in the room, but he fed off it instead, letting the quiet throw the younger man further off balance.

“Sir?”

“I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call the operative back in. While you’re at it, tell him to bring his government passport and security badge with him, because if he can’t track a man escaping a fire in the middle of broad daylight he’s done at this agency.” So much for sending the guy with a decade of service to cover his top man. Garrett Hill could slip any tail. That’s what made him so good.

“But according to our guy there was a pretty big crowd around the fire. It would have been easy for anyone to move in or out of there without being noticed.”

Ellis flipped a switch on his desk and a bank of monitors to the left flickered to life. “There are people in this office who get paid to keep me updated on what’s happening everywhere in the world. I need you to establish other skills if you want to remain useful.”

He also had a file on his desk filled with photos and status reports and backgrounds on every person in Garrett’s neighborhood. Ellis had possession of redacted top secret reports on the brother and a separate paper consisting of less than a paragraph about some woman named Meredith Samms, a woman Garrett should have run through a background check before allowing her to move into his house.

When Ellis debriefed Garrett he’d add in a question or two about that. Being the best didn’t mean he could ignore the rules. Well, not all of them.

Ellis glanced up and noticed Andrew hadn’t moved an inch in five minutes. Good.

Now, on to the next issue. “Locate Darren Mitchell.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, Andrew.”

“But he’s no longer with the DIA.”

“It would appear we’re back to the obvious.”

Andrew’s eyebrow rose and an uncharacteristic spark of anger flashed in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Ellis took the show of emotion as a good sign. He admired people who stood their ground. The weak wasted his time. “I’m aware of Darren’s work status with this agency, since I’m the one who fired him after Garrett filed his last operation report.”

“My point is that we can no longer track the man through the building or in his car or at his house by using his badge or the GPS tags.”

“There are other ways. He’s wearing an ankle monitor. It was one of the conditions of his bail. Get me a report on where he’s been and with whom. Also check the video surveillance.”

“Excuse me?”

“Say that again and you’re fired.” Satisfaction flowed through him when Andrew’s mouth snapped shut. “We’re tracking Darren’s moves.”

“All the time?”

“Yes. We used the Federal Intelligence Surveillance Act and got a warrant. We know everything he says and does, or we should. Your job is to check for loopholes.”

“Anyone else?”

“Garrett Hill has many enemies, the most immediate and obvious one being the fellow agent he turned in for extortion. With Darren’s trial looming, he is a logical choice for investigation. He takes out Garrett, he stands a better chance of walking away clean.”

MEREDITH PULLED BACK the thin yellow curtain with the strange flower print and stared out at the empty motel parking lot. The SUV they’d driven here had disappeared. Except for Joel walking back and forth in front of the door as he talked on the phone, there wasn’t any sign of life out there. Just the sun bouncing off the black pavement as it dipped lower on the horizon.

They’d driven across the bridge into downtown San Diego and kept heading east until the neighborhoods disappeared and nothing stood in front of them except a row of mountains. She had no idea where they were or how long they’d been in the car. She’d been too focused on keeping pressure on Jeremy’s stomach. Every flat, muscled inch of it.

“It’s not exactly four-star accommodations.” Despite the slight slur around the edges of his voice, it boomed strong and deep through the small room with the queen-size bed and bright orange bedspread.

She let the curtain drop and moved back to the bed. The white bandage glowed against his tan skin. She’d cleaned the wound then watched and winced as Joel stitched Jeremy up. Through it all, he gritted his teeth and introduced her to some inventive swearing combinations, but he never said anything else. Never yelled. It was as if he were made of steel.

She sat down next to him, careful not to let the bed dip or the shake of the cheap mattress jostle him. “I’ve stayed in worse.”

He curled one arm under his head and propped his body up on the flat pillows. “You need to date guys who treat you better.”

“I was paying my own way at the time.”

“I know you and Garrett…that you guys are…” Jeremy stared at the ceiling, his gaze following the lines in the crisscross panel design. “It’s not my business, but maybe he said something to you during some of your private time together. Something that didn’t seem important at the time.”

“I was his tenant.”

Jeremy’s gaze shot back to hers. Bright blue eyes held her fixed in place. “Tenant?”

“I rented the upstairs apartment.”

He shook his head then closed his eyes and let out a groan. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Are you okay?”

“Confused and trying to beat this headache.”

“Because?”

“It hurts.”

She sighed. “I meant the confusion.”

“It’s the house thing.” When he spoke again, his voice dipped even lower. He rubbed his temples as he talked. “It’s not possible.”

“It’s a fact.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” He grabbed his head as he spoke.

“You really do have a headache, don’t you?”

“There isn’t anything that doesn’t hurt, but I’d really like an explanation for the rental.”

Her gaze swept over him. His bloody T-shirt lay wadded up in a ball on the floor. That left him bare-chested and, despite the injury and pale face, as formidable and dangerous as when he’d stepped behind her attacker hours ago.

“I’d show you the lease, but it’s probably scorched, along with everything else I own.”

He waved her off. “Not a big deal. Insurance will cover most of it.”

“I hate when guys do that dismissive thing.”

His hands fell to the mattress. “How did I do that?”

“What about my memories? Nothing expensive or even important to anyone but me, but they’re still mine.” The photographs of her family and the diaries she’d kept since she turned twelve. She knew being alive was a miracle, but she mourned the moments she would now only carry in her head.

“But it’s only stuff.”

“Never mind.” A practical guy who carried light would never understand, so she didn’t even try. “Why do you doubt my renting status?”

“Because I own the house with Garrett. Because we never agreed to rent. Because he never mentioned you. Because I can’t believe Sara would agree.”

“I see you’ve given this some thought.”

“I’ve been stuck on an assignment in Arizona, but I’d think Garrett would have gotten word to me.”

“This assignment of yours.” Her gaze wandered to the nightstand and the two guns, one knife and strange-looking metal star thing sitting there. “I guess it explains the weapons?”

“Remember how I said I was a Border Patrol agent? Well, I’ve been undercover for fourteen months.”

“Sounds terrible.”

His mouth fell into a flat line when he tried to sit up higher on the bed. He flopped back against the pillow as the skin around the corners of his mouth turned white. “It was even worse than that, but it’s over.”

“No wonder you seem so comfortable chasing and shooting.”

“Not so good with being injured, though.”

She traced her fingers over the edge of the bandage and watched his stomach dip in response. “You got knifed on your last assignment. It hadn’t healed when the guy hit you.”

“And now I am on mandatory leave.”

The laugh bubbled up before she could stop it. “This is your idea of rest and relaxation? Dodging bullets and running from fires?”

“Believe it or not, no.”

His broad smile caught her off guard. Since she’d done enough admiring of his strong jaw and sexy mouth, she looked around the room, anywhere not to stare at him.

The room smelled like wet carpet, and the dark brown furniture and lack of sunlight made it resemble a tomb. Not the best place for a guy to recuperate.

They both jumped when Joel opened the door, talking as he walked. “Pax and Davis are on the way.”

She drew back her hand and inched away from Jeremy. “Who?”

“More of Garrett’s men.” This time Jeremy scooted back until his neck rested against the headboard. “Why are they even here? I thought they were working out east these days.”

“Had some business in town.”

Jeremy nodded. “Understood.”

“That makes one of us.” The shortcut conversation was making her crazy. She’d shoot them her best eye roll but was too tired to do anything but talk, and even that took more concentration than she possessed. “Now might be a good time to tell me what your brother does and why he has so many men helping him do it.”

“I like her.” Joel laughed as he took up a position by the window, glancing at them each in turn and then looking outside. “Don’t get me wrong. I liked Sara, too, but this one has spunk.”

That was the second or third time Meredith had heard the name. Each time Jeremy had frowned and shot her an unreadable look.

Meredith couldn’t shake the feeling of being judged by Jeremy. “And while you’re at it, explain who this Sara person is.”

Joel treated her to the typical she-lost-it look guys did so well. “She’s Garrett’s fiancée.”

Meredith jumped off the bed. Nearly swallowed her tongue and bounced Jeremy off the mattress as she moved. “His what?”

“I guess I should say ex. I mean, you guys are—” Joel’s smirk died. “Right?”

“Wrong.”

Jeremy wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gave her a gentle tug until she looked down at him. “You still sure you’re not seeing Garrett?”

“Positive. Never dated or even thought about it.”

Jeremy pointed at his mouth. “You can resist a face like this?”

“On Garrett, yes. Keep in mind he was never around.”

Jeremy’s hold tightened before he let his hand drop. “Go back to your first comment. Only on my brother?”

She’d hoped he’d missed that verbal misstep. No such luck. “I’m wondering why I’ve never seen this Sara person at the house.”

The amusement faded from Jeremy’s eyes. “I’m worried about the same thing.”

Joel held up his phone. “She didn’t answer any of the four times I’ve tried.”

Meredith refused to panic. None of the information she’d heard made any sense. She rarely saw Garrett, but he’d never mentioned a fiancée and never bothered to bring her by to say hello. The pieces refused to fit together in any logical way. Still, Meredith had to believe a reasonable explanation lingered somewhere, maybe just out of reach, but there. “Couldn’t she be on vacation with Garrett? That would explain why we can’t reach either of them.”

Something cold and bleak moved behind Jeremy’s eyes. He controlled the starkness almost immediately. “I can’t contact him through any of our regular channels and he’s not answering the emergency call signal.”

Joel shook his head. “Damn.”

From the reaction, she knew the lack of communication wasn’t standard. She might not see him for weeks, but Garrett clearly checked in with Jeremy and the team. The failure to do so now had the other men reeling. Their tension touched off a new round of swirling panic inside her.

“Tell Pax and Davis to search for Sara. Credit cards, bank records. I want to know where she’s been.” Jeremy reached for his phone and frowned when it wasn’t in its place on the nightstand. “Once I fight off this painkiller buzz, I’ll check her house and some other places where she might be.”

Meredith put her hand over her back pocket. If Jeremy saw the bulge he’d know she’d grabbed his cell. He’d likely jump to conclusions about her wanting to call for help. In reality she knew, deep down knew, she was safest with Jeremy and there was no reason to run.

She also knew she had to hide his phone if she wanted him to rest. Having all those muscles meant nothing if he passed out at her feet.

“Already ahead of you on the calls,” Joel said. “Davis and I will take surveillance. Pax is coming to check you out.”

“Not necessary.” Jeremy shifted to the side of the bed.

She moved to lean against the mattress, blocking his path to the floor. “Does this Pax have medical training?”

Joel smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Then I like your plan. Pax stays. You remain in bed for now.” She nudged Jeremy until he fell back onto the bed.

“Since when are you in charge?” Jeremy asked as he closed his eyes and leaned into the pillows.

No way was she conceding even an inch in this verbal battle. “Since you lost a pint or two of blood.”

Joel cleared his throat as he opened the door. “I’ll wait outside while you two hash this out.”

She didn’t wait to ask the question burning a hole in her brain. “Why would Garrett hide a fiancée?”

Jeremy didn’t open his eyes. “No idea.”

“Did you think they were still together?”

“They were having trouble but…” His eyes popped open. “I’ll feel better when I find her and Garrett.”

“Let’s get back to his job. Who exactly is your brother?” Then they could circle around to Jeremy’s job, as well, before the curiosity ate a hole in Meredith’s stomach.

She wasn’t ready to let the issue drop with a cursory explanation. Something these men did had gotten them in trouble, and as a result she was homeless with nothing more than the clothes she wore. She didn’t blame them. Not specifically. But she wasn’t going to be pushed aside either.

“Are you rapid firing questions to keep me from having a second to change your orders to Joel about fetching Pax?” he asked.

Smart man. “That and to get an answer or two out of you while your defenses are down.”

“Effective.”

She crossed her arms over her stomach. “It will be once you answer me.”

He stared at her. When she didn’t move or even break eye contact, he exhaled long and loud. “Garrett’s job is top secret.”

Not exactly the comment she was expecting. “How very Hollywood of you to say that.”

“It’s true.”

She dropped her hands to her sides. “Jeremy, come on. After everything that’s happened today, the least you can do is level with me. I think I deserve better than the ‘if I tell you I’ll have to kill you’ nonsense.”

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“What, you think this has all been an elaborate scheme to get you to give up information on your brother’s job?”

The silence stretched out long enough to be comical. Finally, he gave a clipped response. “No.”

“You have trust issues.”

“DIA.”

It took her a second to realize he’d given her the answer. Well, an answer. Not that she understood what he said. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“Defense Intelligence Agency.”

“Never heard of it. The name I know starts with a C.”

“He collects military-related foreign intel.”

The extra information didn’t bring any clarity. “Is he in the military?”

“Former army sergeant.”

“And now?”

“Black ops stuff.”

The curt responses raised more questions than they answered. Instead of calming the racing in her stomach, his comments kicked the churning to top speed. “That explains the travel.”

“It also means it’s not that easy to find him when he wants to stay missing.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Chapter Six

Bruce Casden stared across the table at his five-hundred-dollar-per-hour lawyer, Stephen Simmons. The Third. Simmons never forgot to add that annoying reminder of his old-money family whenever he introduced himself.

Even now, framed by the dingy gray of cement prison block walls, Simmons acted as if he sat in the middle of a country club, all stiff with his perfect posture. The designer glasses and tailored suit—Bruce had paid for it all. The guy threw in the condescending smile free of charge.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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