The Cold Case Detectives series heats up as sparks fly between a relentless investigator and a murder witness

When someone is shot right in front of him, elite investigator Jasper Roesch is on the case. He can’t rest until he solves the case of who tried to kill this victim. What he knows: heiress Sadie Moreno witnessed the murder of a homeless man she was helping, and now someone wants her silenced forever. Jasper whisks Sadie away to a remote Wyoming hideaway to protect her, but not even the former SWAT agent’s crime-fighting skills can keep assassins at bay. The woman he’s reluctantly falling for isn’t telling him everything...and that secret is something that may get them both killed.

Jasper knelt before her and put his hand over her now tightly clasped hands. “If there’s something you aren’t telling me, don’t keep it from me.”

Sadie only met his eyes again.

“You can trust me,” he said.

After long seconds where she blinked some more and bit her lower lip, he thought she’d relent and start talking. But then she brushed his hand off hers and stood, forcing him to move back.

Moving away, she turned to face Jasper, a guarded mask now, hands at her sides, chin lifted, eyes fierce with determination. “I hired you to solve a murder. Beyond that, nothing else about me is any of your business.”

He half admired and half cursed her. She stuck to her objective and didn’t trust easily. She didn’t know him very well and had only hired him to help with the murder investigation. She didn’t argue that the attack could be unrelated. She didn’t deny there might be more she wasn’t saying.

He wouldn’t rest until he had the whole truth.

* * *

Be sure to check out the next books in this miniseries.

Cold Case Detectives: Powerful investigations, unexpected passion...

* * *

If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense

Dear Reader,

I’m excited about the next release in my Cold Case Detectives series! I was thrilled to start with A Wanted Man, where Kadin Tandy spearheads an organization dedicated to catching killers. Writing murder mysteries is a new venture for me, much different than my military-hero All McQueen’s Men series. But equally suspenseful and full of romance and the happy endings we all crave.

I love something special about each of my stories, and in Runaway Heiress (aside from the catchy title!), I grew quite attached to the heroine’s strength. She’s on the run from a dangerous man and offers trust sparingly. The hero has to prove himself worthy before she gives her heart. Their growth together is rewarding and they make a lovely couple. So get cozy and enjoy reading my latest story.

Happy reading!

Jennie

Runaway Heiress

Jennifer Morey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Two-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Quill Award winner JENNIFER MOREY writes single-title contemporary romance and page-turning romantic suspense. She has a geology degree and has managed export programs in compliance with the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR) for the aerospace industry. She lives at the foot of the Rocky Mountains in Denver, Colorado, and loves to hear from readers through her website, jennifermorey.com, or Facebook.

MILLS & BOON

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For Mom

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Sadie Moreno sat across from Steven Truscott at a downtown Jackson Hole twenty-four-hour diner. In his sleek black suit and tie with pristine white dress shirt and medium brown hair brushed back to hide signs of recession, he made a handsome picture. Once upon a time she might have attempted to break through his staunch wall of professionalism for a more personal relationship. Life had intervened.

“Do you have news for me?” He usually didn’t come to see her unless he did.

In the next instant, her spirits dimmed along with his grim mouth line.

“The last lead didn’t produce anything, Sadie. Bernie’s case has gone cold.”

He’d been keeping tabs on the progress of the investigation so she wouldn’t have to. So that was why he’d come all this way. He knew how this would devastate her. “But it was so promising.”

“I’m sorry. They’ve got nothing now. No evidence. No witnesses. Not a single shred of anything.”

Disappointment crushed her. “What are they going to do now?” There had to be something they could do.

“We’ll just have to wait for something new to come up.”

The injustice soured and rotted hope.

She tapped her sunglasses on the table. Turning away from Steven’s sympathetic, silver gaze, she saw nothing as she thought of Bernie King. He didn’t deserve to die the way he had. The first homeless person she’d helped, he had become her close friend. He’d spent the longest in her program, but only because she wanted to help him as much as she could, giving him a place to live while he got back on his feet.

She bobbed her crossed leg, jeans tucked into a pair of calf-high leather boots. How could she endure yet another tragedy she was powerless to avenge?

A waitress came with water and Steven’s coffee.

She was too upset to ingest anything.

“The case has gone cold, that’s all.” He sipped his coffee. “The police won’t give up. We will just have to be patient.”

Sadie didn’t do patience very well, especially when someone close to her had been brutally killed. It could be years—or never—before any more leads emerged.

“I can’t sit around and wait.” She had to do something. “The location of the body should tell them something, shouldn’t it?”

Bernie had been shot and his body moved to Warren Park, far from downtown San Francisco. Too far to walk anyway. Bernie had recently moved to the new facility she’d constructed, well on his way to rebuilding his life, transitioning from homeless to home. He had planned to buy a car the next day, and had been within weeks of moving to his own apartment. She couldn’t stand it that he’d been ambushed, that his life had been stolen, his new life. Slaughtered dreams.

Steven sipped his coffee again. She sensed his doubt in police finding new leads anytime soon. That was why he’d come all this way. He had to meet her in person to deliver the bad news.

“Just because he was homeless doesn’t mean his life mattered less.” She almost spoke to herself. So many people lacked awareness about the homeless. The homeless weren’t parasites to be cleansed from the community. They were live, breathing human beings who once had a life not much different than those who passed them on the streets with barely a glance. Out of sight out of mind, right?

“Don’t forget about him, Steven,” she said.

With a resigned look, he put down his cup. “His case isn’t being treated any differently than someone who had a home. The killer did a good job of hiding evidence. It’s going to take some smart detective work to catch him.”

She knew that. Bernie’s killer hadn’t left any evidence, no trace evidence. While she debated whether his case was treated any differently than if he’d been a contributing figure in his community, she had to acknowledge the prowess of his killer. But damn it, why did he have to die on the brink of getting his life back on track? The injustice choked her up.

“Bernie was like family to me.” Many of her clients were, but Bernie was special. He was the reason she started the Revive Center. When she met him on the street, she had taken him to the hotel where she was staying, not knowing then what she’d do. Give him money, but he needed more than money. He needed help.

Born, the Revive Center.

She and Bernie had become very close since then. After a long rehabilitation, he’d gone to college and got a job. Success. She wouldn’t say he was as happy as he could be. He still felt his tragic losses, but he’d been well on his way to a good life.

“What you do is an inspiration to humanity, Sadie. You put your whole heart into your organization. You’ve come a long way in rebuilding your own life, too. Hell, no wonder why you gravitated to them. Even with all your money, you’re not much different than them.”

She laughed despite her sadness. Sometimes she forgot how well Steven knew her.

“Don’t jeopardize your new beginning by involving yourself in Bernie’s case,” Steven said. “That’s my job.”

“I have to do something.” She could not stand by and let him do all the work, especially now.

“Sadie...” His voice trailed off on a warning tone.

“Don’t try to talk me out of it. You always do that. You’re too cautious. No one will recognize me.”

He cocked his head that gave his eyes a sardonic look. “The car?”

“It’s a gray sedan.” But she knew he had her there. “Money is the one thing I have in common with my father,” she said ruefully. “I kept the car because if I need money, I can sell it.”

“Fine, leave it in the garage.”

She felt safe here. No one knew her. Aside from the fun of it—and the defiance of her situation, she drove the car to keep the oil from pooling in the engine, but she could have her staff do that. “I don’t drive it that much, Steven. I’m careful with that. But for you I won’t drive it until my ex is either dead or in jail.” Small chance of that happening. He’d evaded both Steven’s secret investigating and the police. He’d likely be killed by one of his own enemies before law enforcement caught him, given the type of activities he practiced.

Steven smiled softly, fondly at her easy obedience. She always listened to him.

“You enjoy money for much different reasons than your father. Don’t compare yourself to him.” He’d always been sympathetic to her plight. She was lucky to have him as a friend. “I do have to say, though, he’d implode if he saw you in flannel.”

She returned his fond smile. “I spent a lot of years repressing who I really was just to please him.” She’d been a peacekeeper, allowing her father to mold her into his corporate minion, his clone—at great expense to her soul. She looked down at her flannel shirt. “This is my rebellion.”

His regard warmed. “You wear it well.”

“I wear little black dresses better.”

He didn’t even falter with the image she must have given him. “He’d implode seeing you in that, too.”

“Then it’s good for my rebellion. It took a lot of therapy to break out of my old pattern. I’m enjoying the fruit of my labor.” Her father had expected her to dress business at all times. And for social engagements, nothing sexy had been permitted. Ultra conservative attire all the way down the line. No lingerie, no short skirts, no makeup and no jeans. It felt like breaking out of prison getting away from that.

“Are you running from your ex or your father?” he asked.

“Both.” Her ex had given her a reason to run, not one she welcomed but having to escape him had opened her eyes to a lot of things—namely her father’s control over her.

“Then continue to enjoy it. Just stay out of the investigation and keep the car in your garage. Please. I know it’s been a long time and you feel safe here, but don’t forget the kind of man your ex is.”

She stared at him, unable to deny anything he said. Maybe she had been a little careless driving her car, but how could she stand idly by? But he was right. She had to be careful not to risk all she’d worked so hard to build. She’d escaped her ex—and in the process her father. Ever since then she’d managed to stay hidden. Five years had passed. She’d like to stay hidden. And Steven had experience where she did not.

“All right. I won’t intervene.” Steven felt like a brother to her. And he’d helped her so much. Faithfully and consistently. She could count on him no matter what. But he had to understand that she had to do something.

She looked at him in a way to convey that without words.

As she anticipated, he read her. “Sadie...?”

“I won’t intervene,” she reiterated. “I’ll be cautious. But I’ve been thinking maybe I should hire a private investigations agency.”

To her delight he didn’t reject the suggestion. His brow rose a bit as though he liked the idea. “Good thinking. I’ll check into a few.”

“I already found one.” She put her hand on the overturned printout she’d put on the table when they’d first arrived and slid it toward him. “Dark Alley Investigations specializes in cases like Bernie’s.”

Steven turned the page over and with a glance at her first, read the printout of the About page of the agency’s website. After a few moments, his gaze returned to her. “This would draw too much attention to you. The guy who runs this is an international celebrity.”

“That’s exaggerating a bit much, Steven. International?”

“National, international, it doesn’t matter. He’s growing in popularity. Even I’ve heard of him. You could be caught on camera. It’s too dangerous.”

“They’re the best. They could solve Bernie’s case quickly.”

Seeing he wasn’t convinced, Sadie had to reassure him. “Safety is one of their number one protocols. They just hired a new head of security. Jamie Knox. There’s a paragraph about him on the printout.”

Steven didn’t move to read.

“I’d be safer with them than I am now,” she said.

“Are you questioning the qualifications of the team I sent you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not at all. Don’t think that way. This is murder we’re talking about. It goes beyond security.” She needed an expert detective and security. She saw him digest that and begin to understand.

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind,” he finally said.

She realized just then that she had. “Yes. I wasn’t sure before, but now that you’ve told me Bernie’s case has gone cold, I am.”

“If you’re looking for my approval, you don’t need it. I trust your instinct. Just keep me informed and don’t shut out my team. They communicate with me. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Sadie.”

He was so sweet. “Your girlfriend is a lucky lady.”

“I’m the lucky one. How’d you know I was seeing someone? I just met her.”

“I didn’t.” Sadie hadn’t thought a man like him would be single long.

Taking another drink of his coffee, Steven took out his wallet. “I should get going. I have a late flight.”

“No, no. I’ll get this,” she said, letting go of her sunglasses to dig for her wallet in her diamond-studded clutch. She didn’t care how much it clashed with her flannel.

“I can afford my own coffee.” He shook his head, putting down a bill and then standing. “I pity the man who falls in love with you.”

She dropped her wallet. Her ability to pay threatened his ego? He must be teasing. She could be pushy when she wanted something, but she let him get away with paying.

Standing as well, she picked up her sunglasses and clutch, then stepped to him and touched a friendly kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. I know you mean that as a compliment.”

He put his hand on her upper arm and returned her kiss with one of his own on her cheek. “You’re one of a kind, Sadie Moreno. Stay safe.”

That’s what he always said. Stay safe.

She watched him walk away, hoping she could do as he wished.

* * *

The next morning, Sadie drove toward a parking space in front of Dark Alley Investigations. It was an elegant, historical but unassuming building. She wasn’t sure what she expected but this wasn’t it. Something bigger. Taller. And more corporate. The white stone and trimmed, tinted windows gave no hint of the grisly crimes this agency solved. It could be a department store or an upscale boutique.

Two men walked out of the front as she parked, both stopping when they saw her car. She climbed out, her spiky boots giving her even more height as she straightened and started walking to the sidewalk. She’d forgone her flannel for this meeting. Maybe her meeting with Steven had inspired her to dress in a way that would make her father cringe. Sexy. He’d call it something else, but Sadie didn’t dress inappropriately. She just looked good.

The big Swiss-looking man stared without blinking, giving her an unexpected spark. He liked what he saw, apparently. It had been a long time since a man made her feel this way, and with only a look. She found herself also compelled to stare, taken in by his Viking good looks. His thick blond hair waved slightly in a breeze and she could see the brilliance of his blue eyes from here. She barely noticed the other man, who put on sunglasses, his military short black hair and a dark suit made him look like a star in Men in Black.

Is this what all the Dark Alley detectives looked like? My-oh-my, was she in for a treat. Before she let her excitement get too carried away, she scanned the area as she always did when she went out in public, checking for anything suspicious. She saw nothing unusual. A few people walked along the street and didn’t pay her any attention. A man glanced over at her car but after a few seconds moved on. A few cars passed on the street.

She started walking around the front of the car when she noticed an approaching car slow. Both the driver and the passenger were watching her. That caused her some alarm. Had they recognized her? She stopped, wondering if she should get back into her car. She looked for a place to get out of sight. Only the Dark Alley Investigations building would give her that.

She started to turn when she saw the man in the passenger seat of the dark sedan draw a gun.

She screamed and tried to duck for cover, but the man fired and a bullet slammed through her. The impact sent her jolting backward. She hit the ground hard, vaguely aware of the Viking rushing to her and his partner firing back at the passing car before everything went black.

Chapter 1

Sitting on an uncomfortable hospital room chair with his legs outstretched, elbows on the armrests and fingers teepeed together, Jasper Roesch watched Sadie Moreno sleep. Rest in unconsciousness, more like. She’d gone through twelve hours of surgery and a day of intensive care before the doctors rolled her into a recovery room. She’d survive her gunshot wound, which had narrowly missed her heart.

The tall, slender Spanish-looking woman had long manicured nails. The nursing staff had put her ample head of jet-black hair up. Her Angelina Jolie lips were pale and dark circles shadowed the skin beneath her eyes. But even the signs of her close brush with death didn’t diminish her beauty.

Three knocks on the door brought him turning to see a well-dressed man with neatly trimmed and combed brown hair and nickel-gray eyes.

“Jasper Roesch from Dark Alley Investigations?” the man queried.

Jasper stood and faced the man. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Steven Truscott.” He stepped forward. “Sadie’s security officer.” After a brief shake of hands, the man looked over at Sadie. “She said she was going to hire one of you.”

“I figured she had a reason for showing up at DAI.” And that reason ended up shooting her. “How did you find out she was here?”

“The doctor called her home and her estate manager notified me.” Steven said. “Your agency called before the hospital. The estate manager passed the number on to me. Kadin Tandy said you were here watching over Sadie until I arrived.”

The founder of DAI had let Jasper know Sadie’s security officer would be coming to the hospital to explain a homeless man’s murder case. He’d thought it odd someone like that would show up rather than a family member.

“I was assured her safety would be your top priority,” Steven said. “I can’t be with her all the time.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Sadie runs an organization for the homeless. She has three facilities, one in New York, one in Dallas and headquarters in San Francisco. I work intermittently at her headquarters.”

“Her address is in Wyoming.”

“She works remotely.”

He did, too, if he only worked intermittently. Many people worked from their homes, but something about this didn’t add up. Sadie worked from her home but the one person who came to see her at the hospital is her head of security who works remotely as she did.

“She prefers reclusiveness,” Steven added, as though he felt he needed an excuse. Jasper would have questioned him further if he hadn’t turned a grave face to Sadie.

“I worried something like this would happen,” Steven said. “She’s been after the police to catch Bernie’s killer. I kept telling her to stay out of the investigation. A woman like her stands out in a crowd.”

Who wouldn’t be after police to catch the criminal who’d killed someone close to them? Bernie, he presumed, was one of her homeless men and the victim of murder that had brought her to DAI’s door.

“Is there a reason she should stay out of the investigation?” Did she just want to avoid the public? Jasper hadn’t heard of her so she couldn’t be so famous for that to be a threat.

“As I said, she prefers to remain reclusive.”

The more he talked with this man, the more suspicious he became. He questioned a lot of criminals, many of them experts at lying. Steven was no expert, at least not when it came to Sadie. Maybe her being shot had caught him off guard.

“Has anyone notified her family?” he asked.

“I’m the closest she has to family. Her father passed several years ago. She was his sole heir.” He eyed Jasper as though sharing a piece of gossip. “Holdings in an oil and refining corporation.” So, Sadie had inherited her wealth, but hid herself from the rest of civilization in Wyoming. Why?

“What about Bernie King?” Jasper asked. “Who is he to her?” For Sadie to hire DAI to investigate his murder meant she cared more than she might if Bernie was just another one of her homeless people.

“Bernie is a special friend.”

Movement from the hospital bed shifted Jasper’s concentration. Sadie began to open her eyes. He went to stand beside her, Steven going to the opposite side of the bed.

“Steven?”

“Yes, Sadie, I’m here.”

Steven took her hand and held it while Sadie groggily smiled up at him. “I thought you went home.”

“I did. But then someone from Dark Alley Investigations called and told me what happened.”

Steven had been here recently? Jasper wondered if that was how the shooters had found her. He also noticed she had no accent. She looked Spanish but she must have been raised in the United States. He hadn’t had time to dig into her background yet.

Sadie’s brow twitched in confusion. Memory must elude her after enduring the trauma she had. She slowly turned her head and soft chocolate-brown eyes fringed with thick dark lashes found him. Their clear, dramatic beauty struck him. The unexpectedness made him clamp down on the attraction. She stared at him for endless seconds, confusion going to recollection and then purely personal observation.

“This is Jasper Roesch,” Steven said. “The founder of DAI put him on Bernie’s case.”

“Oh.” She stared at him awhile longer and then her brow twitched again. “Where am I?” She looked around the room.

“You were shot outside Dark Alley Investigations,” Jasper said.

She stared at the ceiling awhile and then seemed to connect more dots. Driving up to DAI, getting out...

“I remember going there, but I don’t remember what happened after I got out of my car.”

“Someone drove by in a stolen car and shot at you,” Jasper said. “There were two, a driver and a passenger. They both wore hats and sunglasses.” Kadin had run the plates. The car had been found outside town.

“She was coming to see you about the murder of Bernie King,” Steven said to Jasper. “He was a homeless man going through Sadie’s reestablishment program at the Revive Center. There are no leads.”

Jasper nodded a couple of times. “I’ve got a call in to the lead investigator. I’ll meet with him and get all the details.”

“I saw you in front of Dark Alley Investigations,” Sadie said to Jasper.

“Yes. I saw you, too. You were a little hard to miss.” While he meant because of the men who’d shot at her, she was hard to miss for an entirely different reason. He wondered if he revealed too much about how seeing her had impacted him. A moment of awareness of the effect of that first sight passed between them.

Jasper shook off the distraction. “The doctor said you’d be released by the end of the week, but you’re going to need time to recover. I’ve got some security guards ready to accompany us to your house.”

“I don’t need security. I have my own.” She looked up at Steven with a soft, exhausted smile that revealed how much she valued the man, maybe as a family member but probably more as her head of security. She valued his protection.

Jasper began to have a lot of questions. Sadie had her own security, worked remotely and liked reclusiveness, although he didn’t quite believe that. Steven had seemed to throw that out for Jasper.

What were the two of them hiding?

“Don’t argue with the man, Sadie,” Steven said. “You said it—this about more than murder.”

“I’m only talking about getting us there safely. I’ll evaluate what you’ve got on your property and decide if it’s enough,” Jasper said. “How’s that?”

“Thank you,” Sadie said tiredly. “I don’t want to tell anyone they’re out of a job.”

He didn’t care where the security came from, as long as it was solid. If hers met DAI requirements, they’d be fine. And they’d spare DAI the resources.

Sadie’s head rolled to the side and she stared across the hospital room.

Steven put a reassuring hand on her arm, above the IV.

“Why would the killer come after me like that?” she asked. “I thought I was safe here.”

“Shh,” Steven said. “Get some rest.”

Jasper had to agree the killer going after her seemed extreme. And why would more than one? There had been two in that car.

Jasper refrained from asking why she had to be safe. He’d like to question Sadie without her esteemed security head in the room.

“We’ll discuss the case in detail once I’ve had a chance to review the file,” he said.

“I hope you have better luck than the San Francisco police,” Sadie said.

“If I relied on luck I wouldn’t be working for DAI,” Jasper said.

Her exhausted eyes found his and he felt her appreciation. “That’s nice to hear, Mr. Roesch. It’s upsetting to think Bernie’s murder will go unsolved. He was so dear to me.” Sadie paused, seeming to fall into thoughts of the dead man, who clearly was someone close to her. Did she get close to all of her homeless people or did only a few stand out?

“He had so much going for him,” she gave him a hint by saying. “Not every homeless person is as successful as he would have been. He was so close to starting a new life.”

And now whoever had killed him may have a reason to stop her from hiring an agency like DAI to investigate his murder.

“Who knew you were going to hire DAI services?” he asked.

“Just Steven. He talks to the police in San Francisco for me and comes to meet me occasionally.”

For her? “Do you mean he’s taken over keeping in contact with the police?”

“Yes.”

“That’s true now,” Steven interjected, “But at first Sadie badgered the police to work harder on his case.”

“And you think they didn’t like the badgering?” Why had she withdrawn from her badgering? Why hand that task over to Steven? Was it a rich woman thing or would the answer tell him more about her reclusiveness?

“No. We thought she’d be safer if she let me look into things.”

There was that hypersensitivity to safety again. He’d table that for a while. “Have you told anyone? Talked to anyone about the murder? Friends? Family?”

She stared at him as though thinking it an unusual question. “No.”

“You don’t talk to anyone other than Steven?” No one?

She looked up at the ceiling in thought and then back at him when something must have come to her. “I did tell my friends at The University Club. And my household staff all know.”

He’d check all of them out when he arrived at her house. “University Club? What is that?”

“It’s a women-only club in London,” Steven said. “She flies there almost every month.”

“What about closer to home?”

“I live in a very remote area near Jackson Hole. I do go to the golf club, but I’m not close to anyone there. I belong to an online social club and have gotten a little chatty with one of the other members.”

As wealthy as she was, he wasn’t surprised she belonged to elite groups, but an online social club sounded more mainstream.

“What kind of social club?”

“Dating. It’s a special interest group, not only for the purpose of dating. I meet people who like to hike, that sort of thing.”

“And you’ve met a man on this site?”

She nodded.

“Would that person have any reason to stop you from investigating Bernie’s murder?”

She breathed a laugh and then winced, digging her head back into the pillow in pain.

“Easy, Sadie.” Steven put his hand on her arm again, catching the edge of her hospital gown and moving it down her shoulder a fraction, revealing part of the bandage on her chest.

“No,” she said to Jasper. “I haven’t even met him yet.”

“Would he have any other reason to go after you?”

She rolled her head from side to side, a silent response.

“What about events? Dates? Anything like that?”

“I attend all of my fund-raiser events. That keeps me very busy.”

“Anyone come to mind at any of those who might be worth checking out?”

She thought awhile. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“We’ll look into that more later. Right now, you should get some rest like your friend here suggested. You have a long road ahead of you for recovery. We’ll head to your place as soon as you’re released.”

Sadie’s brow creased slightly. “We?”

“I’ll require a room close to where you sleep.” He wouldn’t negotiate this part. DAI had a strong policy on client safety.

“Where...what are you saying? You’re going home with me?”

“Somebody almost succeeded in killing you, Ms. Moreno. Long-distance comms aren’t going to work.” Something much more up close and personal was her only option. “That’s nonnegotiable.”

As her incredible eyes softened into acquiescence, he almost dreaded what would happen when she regained her strength.

* * *

Sadie lived in the Tetons, soaring rocky peaks and steep forested slopes her view from every window of her English fairy-tale home. Landscaping painted the property near the house. The manicured lawns and gardens would be spectacular in the warmer months ahead. A ten-foot stone fence looked to surround the estate and a heavy iron gate prevented entry until the guard on duty recognized Sadie and let them onto the property. So far so good. He liked what he saw. No one had followed them, either.

He drove Sadie’s Ferrari up the gravel driveway to a turning circle and gawked at the oolitic limestone mansion. He sat in the car and stared. With sash windows running the length of two stories and two turrets, he could have traveled through time to the old English countryside of Cotswold. Still transfixed with the Ferrari engine purring, he heard Sadie stir on the seat beside him. Weak as a kitten, the trip home had taxed her.

He climbed out from the low seat and went around to Sadie’s side. She’d managed to get the door open but now cringed in pain.

“Let me help you.” Jasper slipped his arms beneath her and alighted her from the car. She winced and put her forehead against his shoulder. He could imagine the kind of pain she was in.

As he approached the wood double doors, one of them opened and a man stepped out onto a stone porch that extended to the driveway with gardens surrounding it. Not a tall man, or large, he had a butler look to him with expressionless eyes, neatly combed-back thick brown hair and an unsmiling mouth. He wore tan slacks and a white dress shirt and had a radio clipped to his belt. He allowed Jasper to enter.

Inside, Jasper stepped onto a marble-floored entry with a waiting room off to one side.

“Right this way, Mr. Roesch,” the man said. “I’m the estate manager, Finley.”

No introductions necessary, Jasper mused. “Hello, Finley.”

They entered the main living area, a large walnut-paneled room partially open to the second floor. The coffered ceiling contained ornate insets and the trim held equal detail. A curvy ivory sofa and chairs around a large square cocktail ottoman brightened up the room.

“What kind of electronic security does she have here?” he asked as he followed the man up a turreted stone stairway worthy of a princess.

“The property is surrounded by a ten-foot stone fence topped with barbed wire, cameras and movement detection devices. A single guard is stationed in the gatehouse and several others stay in one of the guesthouses. There’s a small ops center there.”

Impressive, but...why?

“Don’t even think about making changes,” Sadie said against his shoulder and neck.

He chuckled. “I wasn’t...” Just the opposite.

“I don’t want intrusive security. This is my home. My sanctuary. It’s bad enough that the perimeter wall makes me feel like I’m in prison.”

Didn’t she think she already had intrusive security? “Noted.” He wouldn’t reveal his thoughts, not yet.

He took in the railing with a view of downstairs and then stepped into a wide arching stone hallway with nineteenth-century mirror, lantern-style lighting and floral crewel drapes. He passed a walnut-paneled library with vaulted ceiling and early evening light bringing out the colors of books. A Persian rug and old-fashioned seating were arranged before a fireplace. “Were you into castles and princesses as a kid?”

“What girl isn’t?” she asked sleepily. She’d taken a painkiller a couple of hours ago.

Finley entered a room at the end of the hall. Rose, soft green and cream colors hit the eye first. Then the rich detail came out. The bed looked French, probably hand carved, and a toile fabric chair and ottoman were angled before six sash windows. An etched glass closet door was open to reveal a large walk-in closet with organized walnut shelves and more seating.

Finley pulled back the soft, downy covers. Jasper laid her down and her arms stayed around him as their gazes met. He couldn’t look away and watched her eyes slide closed once, twice, three times, and then they didn’t open. It had to be one of the sweetest sights he’d ever experienced.

“Your quarters are across the hall from the miss,” Finley said. “Cook has prepared dinner. Where would you like it served?”

“Right in here.” Jasper went to one of the pretty chairs and sat.

“Excuse me?”

Noticing Finley’s alarm, he explained. “My first concern is for Sadie’s safety. Best if you tell everyone that’s nonnegotiable.” He nodded toward his charge. “She’s as vulnerable as she’ll ever be in this condition. I won’t take a single chance.” He adjusted his seat. “In fact, why don’t you bring a cot or something in here? I’ll be sensitive to her need of privacy.”

Finley seemed to smother a pleased smile. “Yes, sir.”

“Where did she find you?” Jasper asked before the estate manager could turn to leave.

“I had to take classes on how to manage property like this,” Finley said. “She sent our cook to culinary school.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jasper said.

“No, sir, I didn’t. I’ll let the miss tell you.”

“Why does she have such robust security?” Jasper asked. He got that protection was necessary when you were as wealthy as Sadie, but her fence seemed overboard. Was there a reason or was she just paranoid? She did not strike him as the paranoid type.

“It’s remote country out here,” Finley said.

“How many guards?”

“Eight.”

Eight guards for a residential home. “I’d like to talk to the one in charge.”

“That’s Dwight Mitchel. Former Special Forces. Had a bit of financial trouble during his divorce. You wouldn’t know it but Sadie has more heart than most in this world. When most first meet her they might get the wrong impression.”

Jasper’s impression had been based on attraction. Her car would stamp her as rich. Is that what Finley meant?

“She likes her money but she spends most of it on her charities.” Finley looked up and around the no-expense-spared bedroom. “A first look at her doesn’t reveal much about her other than appearances, but inside she’s a well of humanity. You have to see her as she lives here to truly know her.”

Comparing the Sadie he’d seen step out of a Ferrari to the one he met in the hospital, he had to agree. She was more than a rich, beautiful woman to Jasper, and just how much had him putting himself in check. Not only would living so remotely bore him to death, the idea of domesticating gave him hives.

* * *

Sometime later, Sadie roused. Jasper heard her and came awake, something he’d learned to do long ago. She moaned in pain. He rose up from the cot Finley had provided along with some bedding. Going to the bedside table, he helped her sit up against several pillows. While she overcame a wave of agony, he took a pain pill from its container and handed that to her along with a bottle of water.

After she swallowed and sat with her eyes closed awhile, she blinked and met his. “What are you doing up?”

“Watching over you.”

At first a warm and content look drooped her eyes, but then she saw the cot. Her eyes opened more. “What is that?”

“I asked Finley to put it in here. I’m going to guard you until you can move around on your own.”

“That isn’t necessary. In fact, it’s...it’s improper and...presumptuous on your part!”

“I can see how you’d look at it that way. I can assure you my only motive is to protect you.” And get to the bottom of her mystery—which included far more than Bernie King’s murder.

“There’s plenty of other rooms. Go stay in one of them.”

“I will—when you’re better and not this defenseless.”

Her mouth opened and a few audible breaths stammered out. “Are you always this bullheaded?”

He grinned, a natural thing her petulant face and direct question brought on. “Yes. I have a reputation of solving cases faster than most. No one’s ever been harmed under my watch, either.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Many times.”

“What are you? A detective or a bodyguard?”

“I was a cop and a detective before I joined DAI. I often stayed with family of victims until I caught the killer.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “That sounds unconventional.”

“It is, which is why I like working for Kadin Tandy.”

Her questions seemingly satisfied for now, she glanced down at herself, smoothing covers and patting the demure neckline of her nightgown. Then her hand stilled.

“How did I get into this?” she asked.

“One of your maids changed you. I waited outside the door. She said you woke but barely.”

She blinked once, and again. Then her gaze traveled down his body and back up to his face, noticing him differently than before, less combative, much warmer. Even under the influence of painkillers she seemed rested, and as long as she didn’t move, relatively pain free.

“Do you feel up to talking?” he asked.

“Sure. About what?”

He moved around the bed and went to the chairs, sitting down. “Why don’t we start with Bernie? Who was he to you and when is the last time you saw him?”

She rolled her head and looked up at the ceiling, obviously upset. “He’s what made me start the Revive Center. I met him on a trip to San Francisco, one of my few and far between getaways. He was sitting against a building, holding a cup and nodding off. He’d been drinking. A policeman approached him and tried to order him to leave.” She rolled her head to look at him. “Bernie chose an upscale spa to take his nap.” She smiled fondly and looked back up at the ceiling. “I intervened. I don’t know what made me. I took Bernie to my hotel, sat him down in the restaurant and gave him coffee and food. When the alcohol wore off, he told me his story. He lost his wife to cancer a few months ago, and then his daughter committed suicide, leaving him alone and facing a crisis he didn’t have enough strength to handle.”

Jasper let her have a few moments to her thoughts, feeling how deeply moved she’d been with Bernie. She showed him a glimpse of her true self, not the one hiding in Wyoming.

“On that particular trip I was scouting for a location for a business. I hadn’t decided what kind of business yet, I only knew I wanted to be involved in some kind of charity. Animal rescue. Health. I hadn’t thought of the homeless, but meeting Bernie made me realize how passionate I felt about them.” She looked at Jasper again. “People will shove the homeless aside before they’ll do anything to fix the problem. Where do people expect them to go? They wouldn’t be in the street if they had somewhere else to go. Bernie had nowhere to go. He made me want to do something.”

“Bernie stayed with you while you started the Revive Center?”

“I put him in rehab first. He had to quit drinking. Once he completed that, then I set him up in an apartment. He needed psychiatric care because of his losses. He did that pretty extensively for a few months. By then I had some space lined up and the apartment building under construction. I kept Bernie in his own apartment. We’d meet once a week so I could check on his progress. He slowly improved. We got to know each other very well.”

She drifted off and Jasper would love to know what her last sentence had made her remember. How much had she told Bernie? Maybe Bernie—other than Steven—was the only other living soul who really knew Sadie Moreno from a remote area of Wyoming who seemed to have carried at least some of her past with her to her new life, namely, the Ferrari.

“Why did you move to Wyoming?” he asked.

Her rumination on the past ended and Jasper watched her eyes grow guarded as she looked at him. “I wanted to get away from the life my father had.”

“What kind of life was that?”

“Rich.” She looked away.

“Why do you have such tight security here?” he asked.

“I like to feel safe.”

“Locking your doors doesn’t do that?”

After a few seconds she met his eyes across the distance between the bed and the seating area. “What are your plans for the investigation? What will you do to start?”

Okay, that was all he’d get out of her for now. “I have a message in to the lead investigator. I’ll talk to him first and ask for a copy of the file. Then I’ll spend a fair amount of time researching that.”

She nodded and then closed her eyes, the painkillers apparently taking effect.

Jasper stood. “I’ll let you get some rest. I won’t be far.” He put a small, round device with a green call button down on the table, within her reach. “Press that and I’ll be here.”

“What is this?”

“A pager.” He showed her the pager clipped to his belt.

Her eyes rose up to his and he felt her admiration along with her wryness. “A little over the top, isn’t it?”

“For your security?” He grinned with his teasing. “Maybe.”

She smiled slightly in return.

He left her, hoping he could get more information out of her security officer.

* * *

Dwight Mitchel met him in the drawing room, another princess caliber work of architecture and interior design. Incredible crown molding bordered a recessed white painted ceiling with a huge round and tan light fixture. Pretty, ivory diamond tufted back sofas and an armless settee with throw pillows in purple, green and orange surrounded an oval glass table on an irregularly striped area rug. Although more modern than other rooms in Sadie’s home, the decor still held a decided English flair.

The guard wore jeans, combat boots and a gun harness over a black henley and stood near a drinks trolley, holding a bottle of sparkling water. A big Colonel Miles Quaritch from Avatar, he even had a scar on his right temple.

Jasper went to him and shook his hand.

“We’ve heard all about you,” Dwight said with an unsmiling face.

“I’m not surprised.”

“How can I help you?” It wasn’t a cordial question. Jasper looked past this man’s impassiveness and saw distrust.

“I’d like you to walk me through your procedures. Roles and responsibilities, that sort of thing.”

“You don’t have to worry, Mr. Roesch. Sadie’s security is well covered.”

“I need to be familiar with your protocols so I know what everyone will do in the event of an emergency, that’s all. I have no issue with the security here. In fact, it seems rather excessive.”

The ex-military man didn’t falter. “We do regular patrols around the perimeter of the property. I can give you copies of the schedule. There are two guards posted in the mechanical room 24/7. We communicate via radio.” He tapped his ear where a clear coiled wire disappeared into his shirt. “One guard at the gate. Cameras have eyes on the gate and the property inside the fenced area.”

Jasper hadn’t expected to be disappointed with the level of security. He did, however, need everyone on the security team to trust him. Taking out his wallet, he removed a business card.

“In case something happens. I’d like to be informed.” He pointed to the radio. “Maybe you could get me one of those.”

Dwight eyed him, scrutinizing him as though sizing him up, the most body language he’d seen from the man so far. “Aren’t you a detective? You’re helping the miss solve Bernie’s murder case, isn’t that right?”

“That is. But since the attempt on her life, my role has expanded. At Dark Alley Investigations, we take the safety of our clients very seriously.”

“All good to know, Mr. Roesch, but we’ve got her safety taken care of. As long as she’s in this house, it’s my job to protect her, and I take that very seriously.”

He could see that Sadie was in good hands, but the lack of trust could pose a problem.

What was it about Sadie that instilled so much loyalty? Everyone called her the miss. And everyone was fiercely protective of her, especially of her past, it appeared. What was going on with that? And did he really want to know? He should be relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about her security. He was here to solve a cold case, not satisfy curiosity over a woman. A beautiful woman. A stunning, warm, intriguing woman who stood apart from any other...

All the more reason to keep his distance. And his hands to himself.

“Why so much security?” Jasper asked.

“You’ll have to ask the miss.”

“I already did.” Jasper left it at that. Dwight didn’t seem like an ignorant man. He had to know Jasper was well aware that he and most likely everyone here protected Sadie against anyone learning about her past. And her past had nothing to do with Bernie King’s murder.

Or did it?

Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Sadie was ready to step up her physical therapy. The doctor ordered her to rest for two weeks with walking and strength-building exercises and now she had the go-ahead to partially return to normal. Not full steam yet, but on her way.

She put on her suit with help from the maid Finley had hired. He always thought ahead like that. Ever since she’d found him and brought him to her facility, they’d grown close. He joined her program when the Revive Center was still under construction and she’d rented a large older home nearby. He’d been one of her more sensitive cases. He’d lived a normal life up until he lost his job and couldn’t find another. The bank kicked him out of his home and he’d found himself homeless. Sadie had spent extra time with him and helped him back onto his feet. Even after he’d been offered a job, he’d turned it down and declared he wanted to serve her for a profession.

Sadie had argued with him. He could do anything he wanted. Why chose servitude?

“I was a waiter before I went to prison for drugs,” he’d said.

Finley had a terrible addiction problem. Her center had addressed that first. He’d spent three months in rehabilitation before entering the Revive Program. By then the building had been complete. He had trouble finding a job with the felony on his record, and with the facility complete and pressure from Steven to keep a low profile, she had to return to Wyoming. She’d taken Finley with her and he’d studied how to manage a large house. He’d never given her a reason to regret doing so. And now he was like a brother to her. Of all who worked for her, she trusted him as much as Dwight, who’d been with her the longest.

Dwight had his own story of how he’d come to work for her. He had gone through hell in his divorce. Women could be as abusive as men. His ex was living proof of that. She had been verbally abusive and went after him for as much money as she could drain. She wasn’t ambitious and definitely not a productive addition to any community. She just plain did not want to work. She wanted everyone else to pay her way. And Dwight had, up until Sadie had hired him a new lawyer. All that alimony went away real quick. The last Dwight had heard, his ex had found a new victim to bleed dry of heart and soul—and income.

Sadie had accumulated a group of fine individuals who only needed a second chance. Her clan was a lot like the group on The Walking Dead. Everyone came from different backgrounds but they were all very close and cared deeply about each other’s welfare. While The Walking Dead group shared survival from zombies, hers shared survival from real, hard-hitting, life-altering circumstances.

Sadie stepped down the stairs into her indoor pool. Windows took up two walls, framed in pine logs and beams, showing off a panoramic view of the Tetons. Water trickled from a fountain into the pool. Tan-and-beige stone surrounded the pool and stone of differing texture and size made the walls. Dark wicker seating in three corners provided splashes of contrasting color, along with some trees and plants. On warm days the end window opened to an outdoor patio. She didn’t spend much time out there. Something about outdoor patios demanded a crowd. She went out there only when she threw barbecues for the household staff.

As soon as she reached deeper water and tried to swim, sharp pain stopped her. She almost went under before regaining her footing.

“Finley said you were in here.”

She turned in the water to see Jasper coming down the stairs in swimming trunks. Finley must have hooked him up with those. But it wasn’t the swim trunks that tickled her heartstrings. His rippling chest and abdomen. How that had her senses singing. Jasper...wow. Nice.

She’d seen little of him as she recovered, spending much of her time resting in her room or the library. He’d established a rapport with the lead detective working Bernie’s case and studied the file. She’d heard him on the phone a couple of times, asking questions, focusing on where the body had been found and what witnesses saw. So far he hadn’t progressed any further than the San Francisco police, but he’d asked questions and looked in directions no one else had yet. Something would develop soon. She felt confident of that, and in him.

“Are you sure it’s not too soon to start rehab?”

“Doctor said I should get moving as soon as possible.”

“Then let me help you ease into it.” He stood next to her. “Why don’t we start with floating on your back? You can move your arms, stretch your muscles.”

“All right.” That sounded delightful. She lay back on Jasper’s arms. He created a shelf under her mid-and lower back. Her left arm was stiff and sore. She couldn’t move it far. She rested her other hand on Jasper’s lower back. “This is going to take a while.”

“It’ll probably be a few months before you’re back up to full speed. We’ll take baby steps.”

She didn’t miss how he said we, but she wondered if he knew he’d referred to months. Did he expect to be here that long? She didn’t comment and floated for a while. He kept her head above water so all she had to do was concentrate on moving her left arm.

“You have an interesting staff,” he said after a while.

Was he merely making conversation? Or was he fishing for information? “I’m very attached to them all.”

“Your family must be envious.”

“I have no family.” She stared up at the pine ceiling, a circle of glass in the middle showing a sunny blue sky. “Didn’t Steven tell you that at the hospital?”

“Your father passed, but what about your mother?”

More fishing? She always got anxious when people asked her about her past. She had to be careful what she said. “My mother died when I was born.” She kept her emotion out of her response. Any talk of her mother usually spurred up some kind of sad thought.

“No other relatives?”

“No. None.” She hoped she didn’t sound rehearsed. And that he would stop asking personal questions.

“Do you miss him?” he asked.

She found that an odd question. Moving her gaze to him, she tried to see if he had a purpose, an ulterior motive, for doing so. But the detective in him kept his facial expression blank.

“No.” She could speak honestly about this part. “My father was not an easy man to please.”

“A lot of dads are like that. They want what’s best for their kids. They want them to be successful. Sometimes that means pushing them hard.”

“Well, then I’m a stereotypical rich kid when it comes to my father’s expectations. He gave me everything I wanted as long as it was within his rules. I grew up in a mansion and had lots of toys. He planned for me to take over for him since I was in high school. He planned my career path, made me study business in college. Nothing I did was my choice. The only women he respected were the ones he worked with, and then only those who practically killed themselves for their jobs. Forty hours a week was never enough. And if you didn’t work when you were home, you received more black marks. He didn’t care about family. He only cared about making money. And if those who worked for him didn’t feed his love for it, they didn’t last long. He was never faithful in his personal relationships, either. He was the most selfish person I’ve ever known or even ever heard of.”

“You resent him quite a bit,” Jasper said.

“Resent?” She thought on that awhile. Resent didn’t describe her feelings toward her father. “I might resent the way he dictated my life, but I don’t resent him. I feel sorry for him sometimes. But mostly I’m...” She caught herself before she said the wrong thing. “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“So are a lot of people who worked for him, I bet.”

She smiled up at him, floating on the water, slowly paddling one arm. “I did inherit his money. I suppose I like him for that part.”

“You do a lot of good with it.”

“I do a lot of frivolous things with it, too.” She winced as she overextended her arm but continued to work her muscles.

“Are you all right?” Jasper asked.

“Yes.” Had she ever been with a man this attentive before?

“Do you want to stop?”

“Not yet.” She looked up at him and couldn’t look away.

As the seconds ticked by, an attracted sort of awareness sparkled in his blue eyes.

“Where did you grow up?”

She wasn’t sure why he asked, maybe because she’d said she grew up in a mansion. “San Francisco.”

“Is that where his company was?”

She didn’t want to answer that. After a few seconds she finally did, reluctantly. “Yes.”

He seemed to notice so she treaded water with her hand, pretending not to notice him, as well.

“Why do you care so much about homeless people?” he asked at last.

No one had ever asked her why. “I didn’t until I met Bernie.”

The charity held special significance because of the injustice many homeless people endured. Whether they landed on the streets after suffering financial catastrophes or mental illness, they were treated like trash by the rest of civilization. But why did she care so much? She did care. A great deal. She cared about the people and their destitute circumstances.

“I needed something to do with my time and I wanted to run a nonprofit,” she said. “Bernie opened my eyes to a lot of things.”

“What things?”

She remembered her childhood, going to her father’s corporation and witnessing him rule like a bloated king. It used to disgust and embarrass her.

“The way my father treated people he viewed lesser than him. How many people did he drive into that kind of destitution?” She lowered her legs and stood, Jasper aiding her until she found her footing. Then he dropped his arms. She put her hand on his arm to steady herself. The contact sent a river of shivering tickles up her arm and through her core. She met his eyes, impossibly blue, and again couldn’t look away.

“You think your father drove people into destitution?” He found his aplomb before her.

She lowered her hand but he kept his on her waist. It was distracting. Then she went back in time. “He was a tyrant to his employees and looked down at the lower-earning personnel. He treated his secretary horribly. He taught me that the underprivileged were beneath us, beneath anyone with money and in positions of power. But the older I grew, the more I realized how wrong that way of thinking is. Lording over people who have less isn’t the way to improve society. Encouraging people gives them inspiration and inspiration leads to good, happy productivity. If people thrive the company thrives. People like that are able and willing to contribute more to their community. If you oppress them, they only give what is required because they’re afraid to step out of those boundaries. Do as told and that’s all. Don’t contribute because contributing may lead to more oppression.” She ran her hands through the surface of the water. “I believe the key to real success is through positive reinforcement. You don’t beat people down by taking away their freedom in the workplace, giving orders and constantly reminding them their place is beneath you. I hated my father for being that kind of man. He obtained his wealth working others like slaves to his dream, not giving a rat about how much they suffered or how unhappy they were, like the privilege of working for him was a gift to be worshipped. I despise supremacists because of him and the example he made. I often wonder if he would have still earned his billions if he’d have been generous and kind and humble, rather than the selfish bully he was.”

Not enjoying the memories, she slipped away from his arm and walked through the water to the stairs, taking them slowly and then picking up the towel the maid had left for her. She wrapped it around her and went to the Jacuzzi. The maid had also turned that on. There was no easy way in.

“Let me help you.” Jasper climbed in ahead of her and put his hand on her waist. Gently he helped her down onto the seat and then the floor of the tub.

She sat, feeling weary but the warmth worked like a soothing balm. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

“You have very strong feelings about your father,” Jasper said.

“Let’s not talk about him anymore.” Thinking about her father made her feel lousy. “What about you?”

“Me?”

She kept her eyes closed. “Your family. I bet they’re a lot different than mine.” They probably hadn’t forced him to do a job he didn’t like.

“Both my parents live in Toledo, Michigan. I grew up there. Me and a brother and three sisters.”

She lifted her head in amazement. Such a large family. What would that have been like? She’d been an only child. “Are you close to them?”

“We talk on occasion. I see them on the holidays.” He had a fond glint to his eyes that spoke more than his few words. He was close to them.

“How did you end up becoming a detective?” Had he dreamed as a boy and followed them in adulthood? She wished she’d have had the opportunity to explore her own dreams.

“Video games, books and crime series. I wanted to be a hero.” He grinned, a sexy masculine slide of his mouth. Then he stretched his muscular arms out along the edge of the Jacuzzi, momentarily distracting her.

In a way, she’d wanted to be a heroine. She hadn’t been allowed working for her father.

“I was also a hyperactive kid,” he said. “Everything interested me. I had to keep absorbing new things. Experiencing things. Sports. Places. Learning and analyzing. That’s where the crime investigations came in. I couldn’t make a living traveling or rock climbing so I went to a police academy and worked my way up to SWAT. That got old, though. I wanted to use my brain more.”

“And now here you are, a detective.”

“Yes. I worked in Detroit for several years before joining DAI.”

He seemed to like talking about what he did. He had pride in his expertise. “Detroit...”

“High crime. Failing economy. Exciting times.” He chuckled a little.

“You need excitement?”

“I can’t stand boredom.”

Did that translate into relationships? She didn’t know why she wondered. She didn’t know him well. Why would that matter? She took in his bare chest and no longer had to wonder. How long had it been since she’d been with a man? A long, long time. That’s why she’d joined the online site.

“How long will it take you to get bored at DAI?” she asked.

He spent a few seconds contemplating as though no one else had ever asked him before. Maybe no one had. “Actually, I think I found my match.”

Would he find his match in a woman? She wanted to ask but didn’t. She’d vowed never to put herself in a situation or relationship where she felt she had to work at pleasing someone else. Doing nice things out of happiness didn’t count. The key word was work. Slave. She’d grown up a slave to her father’s demands. No man would have her if she had to work too hard to please him. Was Jasper that kind of man?

He looked to be in his mid to upper thirties. Close to her age at thirty-five.

“Have you ever been married?” she asked and then wanted to kick herself. She didn’t need to know such a personal detail about him. Better if their relationship remained professional. Finding Bernie’s killer had to take top priority.

“No.” He got a faraway look, turning to gaze through the windows across the pool at the sunlight hitting the mountainside.

Heavy question.

“Serious girlfriend?” She couldn’t stop herself. He tempted her like warm caramel-drizzled brownies.

“I’ve had a couple of those.” He faced her again.

“Did they give up trying to keep you excited?” She didn’t mean to sound crass but she was afraid she did. When he didn’t respond, she was certain he’d taken it as an insult.

“I’m sorry. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of me. Blame it on my father’s blood coursing through my veins.” She smiled to ease the sting.

His mouth slid up into an answering grin. “It’s okay. I’ve just never thought of it that way before.”

Did he think she had a point? That wouldn’t be good news for him...or any woman who had the misfortune of falling in love with him. At least she knew early on. Nice to have a warning...

She stretched her right arm out along the top of the Jacuzzi and straightened her back, muscles pulling. She’d been shot just below her breast and every muscle in the vicinity protested. Shoulder. Chest. The fatigue had reached her head.

“I think I’ve had enough.” She moved to stand and slipped on the bottom of the tub. Going down, she landed back on the seat, the jolting movement causing sharp pain. The wound felt as though it tore apart.

Strong, gentle arms scooped her up.

“There you go again, getting ahead of yourself.”

She stared up at him, her hero. He made a good one. Without knowing him very well, she sensed an inner power about him, a toughness that didn’t come from the street. His dominating presence came from a barometer of right and wrong and he stood only for right.

She looped her arm over his shoulder as he carried her out of the tub, her fingers resting on the back of his neck. Her breast mashed against his hard bare chest, smooth olive skin sloping over the manly ridges. The pleasurable sight eased the intense ache that radiated from her healing wound. She returned her gaze to his face and saw he’d been busy admiring her the same way.

The moment changed in an instant. Going hot all at once.

He stood with her outside of the tub, on the stone floor, unhurried to put her down.

Having caught several glimpses of him in her limited movement around the house, each time had caused a flutter. She thought he might be trying to keep their relations professional and give her time to recover. But there was an electrifying undercurrent linking them. Whenever they were close or their gazes connected, the current crackled to life.

Now in his arms, her body pressed to his, the heat of desire mushroomed to life. He held her gaze in an inescapable stare. She wouldn’t have looked away even if he had. He absorbed her face as she did his.

With the sound of the water fountain, he lowered his head and kissed her. She inhaled sharply with an unexpected jolt of desire.

The suddenness of his kiss and her reaction gave her a scare. She was always so careful about who she welcomed into her life. She hadn’t dated since coming to Jackson Hole, nor did she have any plans to. Not that she’d plan that. She just wasn’t ready for the complication.

He lifted his head and she fell into another long stare. Then he slowly, gently put her down. She left her hands on his chest, still mesmerized by him.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” She quickly dropped her hands. Lord, what a gorgeous body. “I better go.”

Turning, she walked away. Solve Bernie’s murder. No romance. Romance terrified her with all its unknowns. She loved her house in the Tetons because no one bothered her and she didn’t run into anyone unless she chose to. She’d like to keep it that way.

* * *

Later that night, Jasper sat up in the family room with the television on low. He didn’t know why he bothered. This house was big enough that Sadie wouldn’t hear the sound. He could have gone to the theater room or the living room, but the family room suited what he was used to most. The staff had gone home. Sadie had her home to herself at the end of each day.

He couldn’t get her blunt question out of his head. He’d never thought of women in the context of excitement. Aside from sex, of course. Sex was exciting, but did he need women to excite him at other times? Granted, no one would fault him for not wanting a dull relationship, but to constantly need to be stimulated? Keeping a relationship new and sizzling became a challenge after several years with the same person, but if the foundation was strong, then those calmer times came naturally. Was he different? Maybe subliminally he sensed if a relationship with a woman would eventually go flat. Maybe he ended relationships when the woman no longer interested him...because she didn’t excite him. It seemed shallow, but he had to admit much of his life had been shaped based on the level of thrills he received. Fighting for good had always taken precedence. Maybe his ambition bled into other areas of his life. Now he wondered why.

He’d always thought he’d do the marriage thing later in life. He’d never made a conscious decision, just forged ahead with his desire to be a hero. That had stuck with him since he was a kid. As a man he enjoyed women, and yet no one in particular stood out. Well, one did, but his relationship with her had been different...or had it? He’d definitely been excited with Kaelyn. Things had ended on a rocky note, the rockiest of all his relationships. Perhaps that was why she stood out.

He’d rather not travel too deep into that piece of his past. Someone had tried to kill Sadie and a man’s murder had to be solved. He represented DAI now. He had a job to do.

Turning off the television, he left the family room and headed for Sadie’s fairy-tale stone castle-worthy stairs. A shadow in the foyer stopped him.

Dwight had just entered. He turned on a lamp on a table between two wing backed chairs. “I hoped to find you still awake.”

The way the man regarded him put him on alert. He stepped into the foyer.

“Finley says you’re getting rather cozy with the miss,” Dwight said.

Had someone seen them in the Jacuzzi? He didn’t respond. There was a reason Dwight had sought him out and if it had anything to do with Sadie, it was none of his business.

“I spent some time going over your background.” Dwight stepped forward until he faced Jasper. “Quite impressive.”

Still Jasper waited. The man had yet to reveal his purpose.

“Except one part.”

Jasper looked away. So he’d bring that up, that dark piece he could never manage to shed. It followed him, haunted him. Then he looked directly back at Dwight. The man didn’t trust him and was highly protective of Sadie. While he appreciated that, he also needed someone he could trust.

“My past has nothing to do with why I joined DAI,” Jasper said.

“That’s debatable,” Dwight said. “You resigned from the Detroit PD. Why?”

That sounded like a leading question Dwight already had the answer to.

Jasper didn’t talk about why. Dwight must have read some news article covering what happened.

“It was best for everyone involved.”

“You shot a man while you were off duty. The details were kept real quiet, but it was your uncle. Who shoots their uncle, and why? Seems your boss liked you enough to spare your reputation.”

“I left Detroit with my reputation intact.”

“How is anyone supposed to know that? News said it was a family dispute. Your uncle attacked and you shot him.”

“I just gave him a warning. I didn’t kill him.”

“A warning for what?”

That he wouldn’t discuss. “He didn’t press charges. My uncle realized his mistake and backed off. That’s all that matters. He came to his senses and I didn’t have to kill him.” And he would have. His uncle had known it and thankfully he’d chosen to salvage what might be left of his relationship with his favorite nephew.

Jasper would never understand why his uncle had favored him. It could have been because he’d been the only boy in the family who’d pushed limits. Nothing scared him as a kid. Maybe that’s all it took to please his uncle. But Jasper hadn’t pleased his uncle. He’d never tried and up until he’d left Detroit, hadn’t cared. He’d never respected his uncle, first of all. He was the polar opposite from his father. Jasper’s dad had taught him how to be a real man, not one who needed money and women to feel like one. Jasper needed to impress no one. He only needed to stand up to evil in all its forms.

“Why did you shoot him?”

“My uncle had been drinking and lost control, just like the news said.”

Dwight contemplated him a moment. Then he took an intimidating step forward, as though not satisfied with Jasper’s vague explanation.

Jasper wasn’t intimidated. He’d stood up to bigger, badder men. And he would give no more information on what happened that day. Or the days leading up to that.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Dwight said. “If you hurt Sadie—in any way—I’ll take the appropriate form of punishment into my own hands.”

He didn’t waste his breath by saying Dwight had nothing to worry about, at least not because of what happened between him and his uncle. He couldn’t promise anything about his personal relationship with Sadie. He lived by truth—what truth he could reveal—and he wouldn’t be telling the truth if he said he was sure he’d never hurt Sadie.

She wasn’t one to engage in a casual affair and he wouldn’t give her the impression that he’d offer anything more. But their attraction had alien power over him. He suspected she felt the same. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt her, but if neither of them could resist passion, he might...when he walked away. Because that day would come. He may not understand why he needed the excitement of the new and unknown, but he did. Living so tucked away from civilization would drive him insane.

“It seems we both have secrets worth protecting,” Jasper said.

“So you admit you have secrets.”

“Not a secret, just something I’m not willing to discuss with just anyone. What about Sadie? What kind of secret are you keeping for her? What is she hiding?”

Dwight didn’t respond, which only confirmed Jasper’s suspicions. Sadie was hiding something all right. Was she a victim or a perpetrator?

“Maybe Sadie isn’t the one in danger of getting hurt,” Jasper said. “Maybe I should be the one taking things into his own hands.”

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