Beautiful Beast

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

With thanks to Natashya Wilson for the concept, helpful corrections, suggestions, edits and hand-holding as required.

A heartfelt thank-you to Judy Fitzwater and Robyn Pope for plotting assistance, crunch-time reading, terrific suggestions and friendship above and beyond the call.

And for Roger, husband extraordinaire, who listened a lot, offered suggestions, ignored frustration and let me work when other things beckoned. You’re the best!

Always, for Chip, Dan and Barb.

Love all you guys.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Gabriel Lowe —The solitary soldier has no memory of what happened the day he was forever scarred and branded a liar and a murderer.

Cassiopia Richards —She’s determined to clear her father’s name and see that his murderer is brought to justice.

Beacher Coyle —He may be a silver-tongued ladies’ man, but he’s the only person Gabe trusts.

Major Frank Carstairs —He’s always been Gabe’s chief suspect in the theft of a deadly toxin. Too bad he died the day it was stolen.

Andrea Fielding —Dr. Pheng’s lab assistant was Gabe’s fiancée—even though her brother was antimilitary.

Major Bruce Huntington —He didn’t like having Gabe under his command. Now he’s certain Gabe will get what he deserves.

Rochelle Leeman —The gallery owner is beautiful, determined and bold enough to go after what she wants, no matter the consequences. And Gabe has what she wants.

Arthur Longstreet —The chief of security for Sunset Labs was new to the job when the toxin disappeared from under his nose.

Dr. Trung Pheng —The chief research chemist was working to create an antidote to the toxin when his work was stolen.

Dr. Powell Richards —His murder started the hunt for the missing toxin. Did the thieves turn on one of their own?

Len Sliffman —The former FBI man is trying to keep an open mind.

Contents

Cast of Characters

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Coming Next Month

Prologue

Frederick, Maryland

Four years earlier

Unease rode Gabe, but second lieutenants in the U.S. Army didn’t question direct orders from a major, even one outside their direct chain of command. When Major Frank Carstairs gave an order, it was obeyed.

Besides, Gabe could hardly call his captain for verification. Everyone knew Captain Bruce Huntington didn’t like Second Lieutenant Gabriel Lowe, who had been recently assigned to his military intelligence unit. And the order had nothing to do with Gabe’s babysitting job. He was the newest person in the unit, and low man, so he got all the unwanted assignments.

The original orders had been to transport three vials of a deadly toxin from the military base in Frederick, Maryland, to Dr. Powell Richards at Sunburst Laboratory in Urbana, Maryland. Gabe was then to oversee security.

Everything had gone as planned. The doctor had accepted the toxin with no hitches yesterday, and today had been a normal day. The doctor had left early, and Gabe had made certain the toxin was secured and his men in place before leaving. He’d been on his way home when Major Carstairs had ordered him to pick up Dr. Richards and escort the scientist to the base immediately.

Clearly something was wrong but no one, especially not the major, was going to bother explaining to him what that something was.

While the doctor had appeared stressed and preoccupied when he left for the day, Gabe didn’t know him well enough to know if that was normal or not. Dr. Richards hadn’t mentioned a problem and none of Gabe’s men had reported anything since he left, so what was going on?

Parking the car on the narrow street, Gabe stared up at the Richards house as dusk laid claim to the neighborhood. There was no car in the driveway and no lights to indicate anyone was home.

Other houses sparkled with lights and life as dusk yielded quickly to the press of an early nightfall. A perfectly normal scene, yet Gabe felt something was off.

Uneasy, he stepped from his car trying to determine why his senses were crying an alert for no good reason. He felt oddly exposed. His hand itched for the comfort of his holstered service revolver.

He hesitated as headlights swept up the street. The garage door began to open. The approaching vehicle slowed to make the turn, giving Gabe a clear view of the driver. Dr. Richards appeared even more stressed and distracted than before. He didn’t so much as glance at Gabe standing there. Something was definitely wrong.

Gabe’s hand still hovered near his revolver as he followed the car toward the house. He moved more quickly when it pulled all the way into the garage.

Without warning, a giant fireball rocked the neighborhood. Gabe reeled back. Something sliced his face as the garage exploded.

He ignored the warmth running down his cheek and sprinted for the car. A figure struggled to climb out as flames engulfed everything. A billowing wave of heat brought Gabe’s hands up to cover his face.

The second, larger explosion sent Gabe sailing through the air. He landed with incredible force amid a hail of raining debris. His last coherent thought was that he should have listened to his instincts.

Chapter One

Frederick, Maryland

Present Day

A slender figure came around the far side of his house and sprinted across the front lawn to disappear in the hedge on the other side. Gabriel Lowe stopped walking. Not CID, FBI, Homeland Security or any of the other official types who watched his house from time to time. Their people would have approached his home in a much different fashion.

Female, based on the swing of nicely rounded hips in figure-hugging jeans. A long ponytail swished against a slender back covered by a fitted jacket. His intruder was obviously looking for a way inside. And in that instant, he knew who it had to be.

His fingers flexed and balled into fists. Jaw clenched, Gabe stepped off the sidewalk and slipped into the nearest shadow. He followed her silently, letting his anger build.

With a low-voiced, muttered imprecation, she battled her way behind the prickly juniper that squatted beneath his dining room window. Identity confirmed, Gabe faded back against the bole of the spreading oak tree a short distance from her.

Cassiopia Richards—the woman who had named him a murderer—gazed up at the window and sighed. She withdrew a ridiculously tiny pocketknife from her hip pocket and hesitated. The small blade was hard to see in the bit of moonlight that filtered between the high clouds, but her intention was clear.

Gabe was reluctant to accost her too soon. Would she actually go through with a criminal act?

She slit the screen and started to reach for the window itself. Abruptly, she stopped.

“Blast.”

The utterance was a wisp of discord in the chilly night air. She struggled with the juniper branch that had clamped onto the back of her coat. Apparently, she didn’t understand that an illegal activity like breaking and entering required silence and speed.

Not once did she bother to scan her surroundings. She wouldn’t have seen him if she had, but she was either extremely sure of herself or totally inept. Watching her struggle with the bush, he was betting on the latter.

FRAZZLED, CASSY JERKED her coat free, half hoping this window would be locked like the others she had already tried. Then she could go home and come up with a new plan. This one was stupid. If she were caught…

She would not think about that. She couldn’t afford to turn around and go home. If there was the slimmest chance Gabriel’s friend Beacher Coyle had actually succeeded where everyone else had failed, she needed to do something.

She’d been a fool to listen to him in the first place. He’d almost convinced her that they were victims, like her father. He’d persuaded her to listen and now the golden-tongued son of a serpent wasn’t answering his telephone. Gabriel had blown her off when she’d contacted him, and now Beacher was avoiding her calls. And if her suspicions were correct, Beacher had brought the results of his search to Gabriel.

They’d found the missing toxin and were going to sell it unless she stopped them. By the time she convinced someone in authority, it would be too late and she was not going to let them get away with it.

Not a sound disturbed the stillness of the night. Cassy had little fear of being observed, given the distance between the houses. The blasted neighborhood was dark enough to give her the creeps. Once more she adjusted the thin bits of plastic over her hands and reached up.

With a scraping, groaning racket all out of proportion to what she’d expected, the window yielded and slid to one side. Startled, she froze. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest. Her ponytail swung as she took a quick look around the yard and at the house next door.

GABE REMAINED MOTIONLESS as her eyes swept by him without faltering and continued on to the house next door. He could have told her she had nothing to worry about from that direction. The family inside would be glued to their television sets at this hour. Nothing less than an explosion would bring them to a door or window.

But what was Cassiopia Richards doing here in the first place? Perhaps he should have heard her out when she called the other day, but her patronizing tone had annoyed him. He’d never forgotten her tirade when he’d been trapped in that hospital bed. Gabe didn’t owe her a thing.

She stared at the opening as if trying to screw up her courage to climb inside. Then she cast another nervous glance around. He waited.

THIS WAS NO TIME for paranoia, Cassy admonished herself. There was no one lurking nearby watching her every move, even if the back of her neck was crawling in warning. Gabriel Lowe was at his gym at this hour. While the sound of the window opening had been loud, it hadn’t been loud enough to carry inside the house across the yard, and no one moved on the silent street. Not a single car had driven past since she got here.

Well, it wasn’t every day she attempted to break into someone’s home. Her nerves had a right to be jumpy. She was usually such a practical person.

Cassy gripped the windowsill and levered herself up. The jagged screen snagged on the elbow of her jacket. She yanked her arm back. The screen ripped free of the window and fell, tangling with the bush below. She froze in dismay and swore softly.

So much for hoping he wouldn’t notice the torn screen.

ENTERTAINED DESPITE his annoyance, Gabe waited to see what she’d do next. What she did was seek a better grip, even though the weird, loose-fitting clear plastic covering her hands made the task harder than it should have been.

What were those things? They weren’t the latex gloves that hugged the skin. These bits of clear plastic fit so loosely she seemed to be having trouble keeping them in place.

Cassiopia Richards had to be the most inept burglar ever. Her thrusting hand tangled in the sheer drape that covered the window. She tried to shove the material aside as she swung her leg up and over but the drape wasn’t having any of it. In her attempt to avoid being wrapped in the filmy cloth, her leg apparently collided with the back of a chair.

Gabe nearly smiled. His dining room was small, the furniture too large for the space. He’d kept his parents’ old stuff after he bought this place because the pieces served to fill the empty rooms. Since he was pretty much the only one who ever saw them, their relative size had never mattered, but her unexpected contact with the chair nearly reversed Cassiopia’s direction. Even from where he stood he could hear the chair clatter against the table.

CASSY STOPPED MOVING half-in and half-out of the window. She stopped breathing as well. She waited for Gabriel Lowe to appear out of the darkness and condemn her. Even though she was almost positive he wasn’t home, it seemed an inevitable thing to happen.

She cast another frantic glance around. The yard was pitch-black. She couldn’t see a thing. There was no going back now. She expelled the breath of air and forced her other leg over the sill.

The drape swirled around her once more. She wriggled, colliding with the chair again. Cassy wrenched the gauzy fabric to one side in a frantic swipe. Off balance, she tumbled forward. Only pure dumb luck and the mahogany dining room table kept her from crashing to the floor.

Great. He’d never notice that. This was not an auspicious start to a life of crime. If she believed in omens, she’d turn around, climb back through that window and go home to bed. She could always get a decent lawyer in the morning.

She should have tried the authorities first. Maybe someone would have listened.

The prickly sensation that she was being watched would not go away. Her hand went to a side pocket and came out with the minuscule pocket flash. The attached key ring jingled as she moved.

If someone had been home, they’d have called the police by now. She’d made enough noise to wake the dead. Good thing she wasn’t planning on a life of crime. Her nerves couldn’t take much more of this.

Get it over with. Call out. See if someone was there.

GABE FLATTENED HIMSELF against the side of the house near the open window. He jumped when she spoke.

“Hello?”

Her scratchy voice was barely a whisper of sound.

“Is anybody home?”

And what would she do if he answered?

“Didn’t think so, but I wanted to be sure.”

Gabe shook his head. The woman was squirrel fodder. He’d been right to not waste time talking with her when she called.

The beam of her small flashlight swung away from the window. Gabe moved to where he could just see her vague outline. Her body radiated tension as she peered around the room. The resonant sound of the grandfather clock chiming the hour sent a tiny shriek past her lips.

“Idiot!”

On that, they were in complete agreement.

Muttering a profanity, she repositioned the chair at the table.

“No way am I going back out that window. When I leave tonight, I’m going out a door like any civilized burglar.”

Thoroughly amused, Gabe watched as Cassiopia moved the small ray of light to search out a path to the kitchen. It would almost be a shame to ruin her evening by revealing his presence.

HER FRAZZLED NERVES were playing tricks on her. There was no one here. Gabriel Lowe was at the gym. Based on past observations she should have an hour and a half before he returned.

Cassy picked her way carefully through the maze of furniture. Fortunately for her, his tastes ran to the stark. While the heavy old pieces were oversized, he hadn’t filled his home with bric-a-brac and clutter. And that seemed a little strange, given that he was supposed to be a sculptor. She’d expected to find dozens of ugly pieces scattered about.

Cassy shook her head. Who cared? The only thing that mattered was finding his home office, doing a quick search for what Beacher had found and getting away before either of them returned. She’d watched Gabriel enough to know that he spent most of his time in his basement. He even entertained Beacher down there, unless they sat around in the dark upstairs when he came to visit. Obviously, the basement was the place to start and she’d better hurry.

Finding a door next to the refrigerator, she reached for the handle. A mop stem hurled out of the darkness and cracked against her shoulder. Cassy leaped back, another small shriek escaping. Dislodged, a plastic pail rocked against the dustpan with a surprising clatter. The broom tipped over. She barely caught the handle in time to keep it from crashing to the floor.

HE WAS GOING TO HAVE to fix that wall mount for the mop and broom soon, Gabe thought, lips twitching. He’d waited until she’d stepped fully into the kitchen before slipping in through the open window without disturbing the drape or the chair. He’d cautiously taken a position near the hall entrance to the kitchen to see what she’d do next.

“I’m going to have a major heart attack before I even find the basement,” she muttered so softly he had to strain to hear her. “Gabriel Lowe is going to come home and find my dead body on his kitchen floor wearing stupid baggie gloves. Why didn’t I stop and pick up some latex ones?”

Stupid baggie gloves?

She replaced the mop, the broom and the pail and closed the door. The beam bobbled as she sent the anemic shaft of light toward the dining room entrance. He melted back before she shone it in the hall’s direction, then moved to observe her when the light swung away again.

Taking a cautious step around the refrigerator, she continued moving until she reached the basement door. She opened it gingerly and aimed the faint beam of light down the steps. He saw her shudder.

“This is so not a good idea.”

Gabe agreed. What was she doing here? Didn’t she realize his house was searched on a regular basis? The professionals could probably tell her the number of cans and the brand names of the soup in his kitchen cupboard on any given day. This had to have something to do with Beacher.

Gabe’s humor dissolved as Cassiopia gripped the smooth wood banister and started down the stairs. He waited for her to reach the third step from the bottom. The board creaked loudly. Her gasp was swallowed by the darkness.

He took a step back from the opening. Sure enough, she sent that stupid little light back up before swinging it in front of her again. What she expected a beam of that size to reveal he wasn’t sure. He probably hadn’t even needed to move.

“Think of the squeak as an early warning system,” she muttered.

That was exactly how he’d always looked at it. The narrow stairs were the only way in or out of the basement. He wondered if she knew that.

Using the flat of one hand and the weakening beam of light, she followed the curve of the wall to her right.

“If that man has a single rodent scurrying around down here I will come back and haunt him for all eternity.”

He skimmed down the stairs noiselessly in her wake.

REALIZING SHE’D FOUND another room, Cassy swept her hand over the inside wall until she located the light switch. Waiting for her eyes to adjust to what seemed like sudden brilliance, she gaped in amazement and stepped inside.

The windowless space was filled with shelves and columned pedestals of varying heights. Each held a bronze sculpture or series of small sculptures. Animals, especially lions and big cats, seemed to be his specialty. He’d infused an almost living essence in each subject. They were exquisitely detailed.

Her hand reached out to stroke a deer poised in flight. She stopped before actually touching the lifelike bronze figurine and shook her head reverently. Slowly, she moved about the room in awe. Gabriel Lowe was an artist in the truest sense of the word. His talent was nothing short of amazing.

She paused to squat before a pair of identical, nearly life-sized bronzes. The crouching lions perched on elaborate, ebony wood bases on the tiled floor.

“Absolutely incredible.”

“Thank you.”

Cassy rose with a shriek and whirled.

Wreathed in the concealing darkness of the hall, deep-set eyes seemed to gleam with a predator’s assessment as they surveyed her from beyond the room’s pool of light. Panic sent her gaze questing for a nonexistent escape route.

Energy crackled as Gabriel Lowe took a sinuous step into the shaft of light.

Her gaze fastened on the twisted scar that ran from the corner of his left eye to the edge of his strong jaw. Horrible! It added gruesome detail to the sinister, fierce aura he projected.

He was broader and taller up close than she’d expected. Powerful shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. Lean hips and well-muscled thighs confirmed his fitness as he glided forward silently like some large, stalking cat.

Cassy forgot to breathe. The darkness seemed to thicken behind him, creating an impenetrable barrier. His fixed, implacable expression held her silent. Her heart drummed wildly against her rib cage.

There was nowhere to run even if she could have summoned the will to move. Like a cornered mouse, she knew she was trapped. The jig was up.

Gabriel Lowe was going to kill her, too.

Chapter Two

Gabe watched as Cassiopia’s shocked gaze traveled the length of his scar before absorbing the rest of him. Well, his features hadn’t been all that great even before the explosion. The bright red puckering of the scar had faded to white over time, but he knew its impact was still strong on unsuspecting people.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” she managed to gasp.

He arched his eyebrows pointedly and remained silent.

Cassiopia closed her eyes and groaned. “I knew I was going to get caught.” She opened her eyes and grimaced. “I guess I should be glad you aren’t a mad rapist.”

He waited, keeping his expression blank, still reluctantly amused by her forced attempt at humor.

“You aren’t, are you?”

“Which? Mad, or a rapist?”

“I know you aren’t a rapist.”

He raised his eyebrows. Color singed her cheeks but she pressed forward boldly.

“How mad are you?”

He came away from the door in a motion that brought him across the room in three long strides. Cassiopia took an inadvertent step back, stopping when her heel bumped the base of the nearest crouching lion.

“What makes you so sure I’m not a rapist?”

The silky tone of his words charged the air. Her lips parted without sound while her gaze fastened on his scar once more. She inhaled raggedly.

“Don’t be absurd.”

Her voice cracked, denying the false calm she was trying to project.

“Are you going to call the police?”

He let his expression darken, then crowded her deliberately, coming to a stop when he was inches from her face.

“Now why would I want to do that? The last thing a mad rapist wants is the police,” he told her with silken menace.

Cassy refused to look away. “That isn’t funny.”

“Neither is breaking and entering.”

She dropped her gaze. Gabe sensed it lingering on the scarred backs of his hands and made no effort to conceal the puckered skin. Let her look her fill. There were more scars than these, covered by his clothing.

A piece of burning siding had landed on him in the explosion nearly four years ago. He’d been unconscious, and only the fast action of a neighbor had kept him from burning to death. Any number of times he’d thought the man hadn’t done him any favors.

Gabe was close enough to smell a bewitchingly light scent that wasn’t some cloying perfume, but was utterly female. He tried to ignore that and focused on the play of color in her hair. Cassiopia Richards was…distracting.