Christmas Guardian
Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Copyright

About the Author

Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why Texas author and former air force captain DELORES FOSSEN feels as if she were genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force top gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.

To Dakota and Danielle

Prologue

San Antonio, Texas

Jordan Taylor heard the pounding, but it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t part of the nightmare he’d been having. Someone was banging on his door.

He checked the clock on the nightstand. Three in the morning. He cursed, threw back the covers and grabbed his Sig Sauer, because visits at this time of morning were never good.

“Jordan, open up!” a woman said. Not a shout, exactly, but close.

He recognized that voice and cursed again. Shelly Mackey, his ex, both as a business associate and a girlfriend. He wouldn’t need the Sig Sauer. Well, probably not. Since he hadn’t seen or heard from Shelly in months and since her voice sounded a couple of steps beyond frantic, Jordan decided to bring the gun with him anyway.

“You have to help me!” Shelly insisted. She continued to pound on the door. “Please. Hurry.”

That got him moving faster. Shelly wasn’t the drama queen type. Jordan didn’t bother to dress. He pulled on only his boxers and raced out of his bedroom.

Her voice wasn’t coming from the front of the house, he realized, but from the door off his kitchen. Jordan sprinted that way.

But the pounding stopped.

He stopped, too, just short of the door. He waited a moment. Listened.

And heard nothing.

“Shelly?” he called out.

Still nothing. That gave him another jolt of adrenaline. Shelly was likely in big trouble.

Jordan lifted his gun as he reached for the doorknob. Then, he heard it. The sound of a car engine.

Someone was driving away. Not fast. More like easing away, the tires barely whispering on the brick driveway that encircled his house. Jordan unlocked the door, jerked it open, but he caught only a flash of the bloodred taillights before the car disappeared into the darkness.

With his gun aimed, he shot glances around his heavily landscaped yard. He didn’t see anyone, but the soft grunt he heard had him aiming his attention lower. To the porch.

There was a basket with a blanket draped over it.

“What the hell?” he mumbled.

Jordan kept his attention on the yard, just in case the someone or something that had caused Shelly to run was still out there. He stooped down and lifted the corner of the blanket.

A baby stared back at him.

Jordan had never remembered being speechless before, but he sure was now. He looked beneath the blanket again, certain he was mistaken.

No mistake.

The tiny baby was still there. Still staring at him with eyes that seemed to ask who are you and why am I here?

Jordan wanted to know the same thing.

He grabbed the basket, brought it inside so he could set it on the floor and shut the door. He also reached for his phone and jabbed in Shelly’s number. Each ring felt like a week-long wait.

“Jordan,” she finally answered. He didn’t know who sounded more frantic—him or her.

“Talk to me,” he snarled.

“Someone’s trying to kill me.”

Despite the baby-in-the-basket bombshell, he wasn’t immune to the fear he heard in her voice. “Where are you? I’ll send help, and then you can come back for the little delivery you left on my porch.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do things this way, but I had no choice. They’re after me, because of the baby. He’s in danger, Jordan. The worst kind. And I need you to protect him.”

Him. A boy.

Then it hit Jordan. He threw back the blanket and had a better look at that little face. Dark brown hair. Dark brown eyes. About two months old at the most. He quickly did the math. He’d last slept with Shelly nine or ten months ago. Break-up sex. And he hadn’t seen her since.

Jordan groaned, and because he had no choice, he sank down on the floor next to the basket.

“I’ve sanitized my office,” Shelly continued, her words rushing together. “Actually, I burned it to the ground. They won’t find anything there, but I don’t want them tracing the baby to you. Don’t let anyone know you have him. Please. There can be no chain of custody when it comes to him, understand?”

No. He didn’t. But he focused on Shelly and her safety. “Tell me where you are so I can help you.”

“You can help me by taking care of the baby. There are no records and no paperwork to connect me to that child. It has to stay that way. I’ve created a phony trail for us, too. If anyone digs into our connection, they’ll find proof you fired me because I was embezzling from your company. The documentation will imply that we’re enemies and that you’re the last person on earth that I’d ask for help.”

This conversation was getting more and more confusing. “Is this baby mine?” Jordan demanded.

Silence. He knew she was still on the line because he could hear her breathing. “Just protect him, please,” she said moments later. “A person might come looking for him. If she uses the code words, red ruby, then you can trust her.”

“Red ruby? You gotta be kidding me. A code word? For what? Why?”

“I have to disappear for a while,” Shelly said, obviously ignoring him. “But when I can, I’ll explain everything.”

With that, she hung up.

Jordan didn’t waste a second, not even to curse. He redialed Shelly’s number. But she didn’t answer. The call went straight to voice mail.

Time for plan B. He phoned one of his agents, Cody Guillory, his right-hand man at Sentron, the private security agency that Jordan owned. Since Cody was pulling duty at headquarters, he answered on the first ring.

“I’m guessing whatever’s wrong got you out of bed?” Cody greeted.

“Yeah, it did. I have a situation,” Jordan replied. “Shelly could be in danger. She still has the same cell number and possibly the same phone she used when she worked for Sentron so try to track that. Discreetly. Let me know where she is.”

“Will do. Give me a couple of minutes. Anything else?”

Jordan looked at the baby and debated what he should say. Don’t let anyone know you have him, Shelly had warned. She’d even used another rare please. For now, he’d take the plea and warning to heart. “Just find her and send someone in case she needs help,” Jordan said, and he ended the call.

The only illumination came from the moonlight seeping in through the windows, but it was enough for him to see the basket. Jordan stared at the baby, whose eyes were drifting down to sleep, and because he didn’t know what else to do, he groaned and considered the most obvious scenario. Had Shelly given birth to his child without telling him? And if so, why wouldn’t he have heard rumors that he was a daddy? There’d been no signs, no hints, nothing to indicate that this child was his.

Except for the dark brown hair, dark brown eyes.

Like Jordan’s own.

Still, that didn’t mean he’d fathered this baby.

He needed to talk with Shelly, and even though it was clear she was in the middle of a personal crisis, he tried her number again. Again, it went straight to voice mail. This time he decided to leave a message.

“Shelly, we need to talk.” He wanted to say more, much more, but a cell conversation wasn’t secure. His number wouldn’t show up on her caller ID or phone records because all calls from his house and business were routed through a scrambler, but someone could get her phone and listen to any message he might leave.

Someone’s trying to kill me, she’d said. Even with the shock of finding the baby, Jordan hadn’t forgotten that. Like him, Shelly now owned a security agency. Even though she’d been in business less than a year, her startup agency provided services as bodyguards, personal protection, P.I.s.

And probably more.

That more had nearly gotten him killed a few times. Was that what was happening to Shelly now? Had a case gone wrong, and was someone trying to use the baby to get to her? Maybe she’d had no choice but to bring the child to him, but it damn well had been her choice not to tell him before now.

If the child was his, that is.

The phone rang, slicing through the silence and waking the baby. He started to fuss. Jordan had no idea how to deal with that, so he lightly rocked the basket. Thankfully, the little guy hushed, and Jordan took the call.

“It’s Cody. I tracked Shelly’s phone, no problem, but while I was doing that, I heard her name on the police scanner, and I zoomed in on the conversation with our equipment.” He paused. “About five minutes ago, a traffic cop responded to a failed carjacking just about a half mile from your place. It’s Shelly’s car.”

Oh, God. “How bad?”

“Bad.” And that was all Cody said for several long moments. “Shelly’s dead.”

That hit Jordan like a punch to the gut. He squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re sure it’s her?”

“Yes, I’ve tapped into the camera at the traffic light, and I can see her face. It’s Shelly, all right. Looks like a gunshot to the head.”

Jordan forced away the grief and pain and grabbed the basket so he could take the baby with him to his home office. He turned on his secure laptop. “Send me the feed from that traffic camera. Audio, too. And get one of our agents over there.”

“I’ve already dispatched Desmond—” Cody paused, and in the background Jordan could hear the chatter from the laser listening device that Cody was using to zoom in on the scene. “An eyewitness is talking to the traffic cop right now.”

The images popped onto his computer screen. Jordan saw Shelly’s car. The driver’s door was wide open. Her body was sprawled out in the middle of the street, limp and lifeless. Hell. If he’d just gotten to the door sooner, if he could have stopped her from leaving his place, then maybe she’d still be alive.

Another patrol car arrived, but Jordan zoomed in on the conversation between the traffic cop and a twenty-something woman dressed in a fast-food restaurant uniform. An eyewitness. Her body language and nearly hysterical tone told Jordan she probably hadn’t been involved in this as anything more than a spectator to a horrific crime.

“The man didn’t want her car,” Jordan heard the woman say, and he cranked up the volume.

“What do you mean?” the cop asked.

Tears streamed down the eyewitness’s face. “That man dragged her from her car and tried to force her into his black SUV. He was trying to kidnap her or something.”

Or something. Jordan was afraid he knew what that something was. This man wanted information about the baby. But why?

The eyewitness broke down, sobbing while she frantically shook her head. “The woman fought him,” she finally said, her trembling fingers held close to her mouth. “She tried to get away. But he shot her and then drove off.”

There it was. The brutal end of one nightmare and the start of another.

This wasn’t a botched carjacking. Shelly had been murdered. And Jordan instinctively knew the man in the SUV wasn’t finished.

The killer would come after the baby next.

Chapter One

Fourteen months later

December 22nd

Kinley Ford was after two things: Jordan Taylor and the truth. Tonight, she might finally get both.

If she didn’t get killed first, that is.

Because if he did indeed know what was going on, he might take extreme measures to stop anyone from finding out.

Swallowing hard, she stepped inside the reception area of the Sentron Security Agency to find the Christmas party in full swing. The place sparkled, not just with some of the guests in their glittery dresses. There was also an angel ice sculpture on a center table, and it was flanked on each side with white roses in crystal vases and bottles of champagne angled into gleaming, silver ice buckets.

Kinley dismissed all of that and looked around. There he was, on the far side of the room next to the massive Christmas tree.

Jordan Taylor.

He looked lethal. And was. She’d studied every bit of information she could learn about him. Over the years, he’d killed three people. All in the line of duty, of course. But that still gave him a dangerous edge that she would be a fool to dismiss.

Kinley hated to think of him as her last resort, but she had exhausted her list of persons of interest. She’d exhausted her bank account. And herself. She wouldn’t give up if she failed tonight—she would never give up—but she literally had no idea where to go next.

Beside her, her “date,” Cody Guillory, took her coat, then her arm and led her not in Jordan’s direction but toward a tall blond-haired man by the ten-foot-long table filled from corner to corner with party food.

“Anna,” Cody said using the alias she’d given him, “this is Burke Dennison.” Cody checked his watch. “In about three hours, he’ll be my new boss.”

Burke flashed a thousand-watt smile. With that sun-blond hair, blue eyes and tan, he looked every bit the golden boy he was. At thirty-one he was a self-made millionaire and about to take the reins of one of the most successful security agencies in the state.

Burke used his champagne glass to make a sweeping motion around the reception area at Sentron headquarters. “I bought the place,” Burke let her know. “Isn’t that a hoot? I’m a ranch hand’s son from Dime Box, Texas, for Christ’s sake. Who would have thought it?”

Jordan Taylor obviously had, since he was the present owner and about to relinquish control a mere three days before Christmas.

Kinley wanted to know why.

For fourteen months, she’d examined the lives of more than a hundred people and had looked for any changes in their lifestyles. This was a major change for Jordan. But the question was, did it have anything to do with Shelly’s murder?

“Well, if I’d had the cash, I certainly would have bought the place,” Cody remarked. He, too, looked around. Almost lovingly. “My life is here.” He shrugged, then smiled. “And usually my body. Burke, don’t you expect me to give you eighty hours a week the way I gave Jordan.”

Both men laughed, but she didn’t think it was her imagination that there was some tension beneath. Maybe Cody wasn’t thrilled with gaining a new owner, or losing the old one.

When a tuxed waiter moved closer, Cody snagged two fluted glasses of champagne and handed her one so they could toast Burke. Kinley thanked him and pretended to have a sip while she pretended to be interested in the conversation Burke started about some changes he wanted to make.

She’d gotten good at pretending.

In fact, everything about her was a facade, starting with the red party dress she’d bought from a secondhand store. The symbolic necklace that she wore twenty-four/seven. Her dyed-blond hair. Her name. She was using the alias Anna Carlyle tonight, but she had three other IDs in her apartment. She’d lived a lie for so long. Too long.

“Excuse me a moment,” Kinley said to Cody and Burke.

She stepped away and tried to be subtle. She mingled, introducing herself. She even sampled a spicy baconwrapped shrimp from the table, all the while making her way to Jordan.

There was an auburn-haired woman talking with him, but as if he’d known all along that Kinley was coming his way, he slid his gaze in her direction. He whispered something to the redhead and she stepped away, but not before giving Kinley a bit of the evil eye. Probably because she thought Kinley was her romantic competition. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Nice party,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Anna Carlyle.”

He kept his attention fastened to her face. Studying her with those intense brown eyes that were as dark and rich as espresso.

This was the first time she’d seen him up close, the first time she’d gotten a good look at him, and sadly, Kinley realized she wasn’t immune to a hot guy. Funny, after what she’d been through she was surprised to feel any emotions other than grief and fear, but Jordan Taylor had an old-fashioned way of reminding her that beneath the facade, she was still a woman.

Simply put, he was the most physically attractive man she’d ever met.

He wasn’t slick and golden like his Sentron successor, Burke. Jordan had a sinister edge that extended from his classically chiseled face to the casual way he wore his tux. The tie was loose. His left hand was crammed in his pocket. The other held not a glass of champagne but whiskey straight up.

It smelled as expensive and high-end as he did.

His hair was loose, a bit long, brushing against the bottom of his collar. It was also fashionably unstyled, as if he didn’t have to spend much time to make it look as if he could have been posing on the cover of some rock magazine.

“Anna Carlyle, huh?” he asked. And it was definitely a question.

That pulled her from her female fantasy induced by his good looks and smell. “Yes. Cody was kind enough to invite me to the party. And you’re…?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. Not a smile of humor though. It made Kinley want to take a step back. She didn’t. She held her ground.

“Jordan Taylor,” he finally said. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

She was in the process of bringing the champagne glass to her mouth for a fake sip, but Kinley froze. Nearly panicked. Then he tamped down the fear that she was about to be exposed. She didn’t mind being revealed as a liar, but exposure could be deadly.

“Yes, I did know you were Jordan Taylor,” she admitted. “You’re the host of this party. I must have seen your picture in the paper or something.”

He eased his hand from his pocket. In his palm was a slim platinum-colored PDA. He held up the tiny screen for her to see.

She saw a picture of herself.

Specifically, a picture of her in the coffee shop across the street. Her worried eyes were fixed on the Sentron building. He flicked a button, and another photo appeared. Also of her. This time she was parked in a car on the street just up from his San Antonio estate.

Oh, God.

Kinley glanced over her shoulder, looking for the quickest way out. There wasn’t one. To get to the doors, she’d have to make her way through at least three dozen people, including twenty or so security specialists who among other things were trained to apprehend suspects. But Jordan likely wouldn’t even let her get that far, because he was the most qualified security specialist in the room and was only a few inches from her.

She couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t seem angry. Or even curious. He just stood there, calmly, while he apparently waited for her to make the next move.

“I was thinking about hiring a bodyguard,” she lied. “I wanted to check out Sentron first.”

He made a hmm sound, slipped the PDA into his pocket, set both their drinks aside and grabbed her arm. “Let’s take a walk, have a little chat.”

Once again she held her ground. Fear shot through her, but Kinley couldn’t go with him. She had to get out of there. “I should get back to my date. Cody will be wondering where I am.”

“No, he won’t.”

Because Jordan said it so confidently, Kinley glanced over her shoulder again. Cody and Jordan exchanged a subtle glance, and Jordan’s grip tightened on her arm.

“When I realized you were following me, I sent Cody to the coffee shop. His orders were to strike up a conversation with you and then to invite you to tonight’s party—an invitation I figured you’d jump at.” He paused, met her gaze. “Cody’s very good at his job, isn’t he?”

He was. Kinley hadn’t suspected a thing. Maybe because she’d been so excited about the possibility of learning the truth of what’d happened fourteen months ago?

“I’m leaving,” Kinley insisted.

“Yes. After we have that chat.” Jordan didn’t give her a choice. He practically dragged her in the direction of a hall.

“I have a gun,” she warned.

“No, you don’t. Before you stepped foot in this building, I scanned you—thoroughly.” He tipped his head to a small camera-like device positioned over the front doors. “If you’d been carrying concealed, I would have already disarmed you.”

That caused her heart to drop even further. What had she gotten herself into? And better yet, how could she get herself out of it?

He opened a door and maneuvered her inside. Even though she didn’t stand a chance of overpowering him, Kinley got ready to fight back. She gripped her purse so she could use it to hit him.

But Jordan didn’t attack her. He turned on the lights and shut the door. The room was filled with wall monitors, desks, computers and other equipment. No people though. She was very much alone with a man who might kill her.

“This is Sentron’s command center,” he explained. “Soundproof and secure. We won’t be overheard here.”

Which meant there’d be no one to hear her if she screamed.

He took out the PDA again and began to flick through more pictures. There was one from her college yearbook. Another of her in an airport terminal. Her passport photo. But the bulk was from newspaper articles when she’d been reported missing and presumed dead two years ago.

“There’s about three million dollars’ worth of equipment in this room, including facial recognition software. When I realized you had me under surveillance, I pulled up every image in every available databank.” Jordan turned, aimed those eyes at her again. “I know who you are, Kinley Ford.”

Since she didn’t know how to respond to that, she didn’t say anything.

“You’re twenty-eight. Not a natural blonde. You have a Ph.D. in Chemical Engineering from University of Texas. Two years ago the research lab where you worked exploded, and everyone thought you were dead. You obviously weren’t. You surfaced again fourteen months ago, only to disappear again. Now you’re here.” He outstretched his hands. “Why?”

Kinley chose her words carefully. “I knew Shelly.”

He drew his arms back in, clicked off his PDA. “Did you have something to do with her murder?”

“No.” But Kinley knew she didn’t sound very convincing. “Did you?”

For the first time, she saw some emotion. For just a second, there was something in his eyes. Not pain, exactly. But some sentiment that he quickly reined in. “No.” He didn’t sound any more convincing than she had.

They stared at each other.

“You knew Shelly,” Kinley accused.

He nodded. “She was a former business associate. I fired her because she was embezzling from me.”

Yes. She’d read all about that. “And she was your lover. I saw a picture of you two in the newspaper.” In the photo, Shelly hadn’t been able to conceal the attraction she was feeling. It’d come through even in a grainy black-and-white image. Not for Jordan, though. In that photo, he was wearing the same poker face he had now.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“The truth. Among other things, I want to know who killed Shelly and why.”

For just a second, his mouth froze around the syllable he’d been about to say. Then, he obviously rethought his response. “What other things?”

Kinley blinked, because that’d been a slip of the tongue. “I was her client. And her friend.” She had to pause and take a deep breath. “I left something important with her.”

Mercy, had she stuttered on the word important?

Her nerves were so raw now that she didn’t know. “I tried to retrieve the item,” she continued, “but then I learned her office was destroyed and that she was dead.”

She didn’t think for a minute that Jordan was just going to accept her explanation. No. The question came immediately. “What kind of item?”

“That’s personal.” And she’d had more than enough of this intimidation. Kinley straightened her shoulders, tucked her purse beneath her arm and started for the door.

She didn’t make it far.

Jordan stepped in front of her, blocking her path and sending her straight into him. He was solid. She learned that the hard way when her breasts landed against his chest. If he had any reaction to the contact, he didn’t show it. He merely stepped back so that he was right in front of the door.

“Who sent you here?” he demanded.

“No one.” That was the first real truth she’d told tonight. “And I’m leaving.”

“Not now, you’re not.” He blocked her again when she tried to go around him. When Kinley tried again, he caught her, whirled her around and pinned her against the door. “Who knows you’re here?”

It wasn’t a question she’d anticipated, and now it was her turn to study his eyes to see what had prompted him to bring up one of her biggest concerns. “Obviously your people know.”

“Just Cody. And he doesn’t know your real name. He thinks you came because I wanted to have sex with you. So, who knows you’re here?”

“No one. I’ve been careful.”

He gave a slight eye roll and tipped his head toward the PDA where he had pictures of her. “If I saw you, someone else could have, too.”

True. And that terrified her. It had terrified her from day one, but even that wasn’t enough to make her stop this search. She had to know if Jordan had the answers she needed.

Well, one answer in particular.

“What’s this really all about?” she asked, hating that her voice was shaky. Heck, she was shaking. And the full-body contact he was giving her wasn’t helping. She felt trapped. Threatened.

“I want to know the same thing,” he countered. “What item did you leave with Shelly?”

She shook her head. “I can’t say.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“Can’t,” she insisted. She met his gaze. “What do you know about this?”

He stayed quiet a moment. “I figure if you take what I know and what you know, we’ll have a complete picture. So, you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. You first.”

Kinley considered that and then considered the alternative. She couldn’t afford a stalemate. Nor could she afford the consequences of what would happen if she spilled all. So, she took it slowly. “I honestly don’t know who killed Shelly.”

“But you know who was after her and why,” he snapped.

“Maybe.” She groaned. “Look, I can’t think like this. Just back up.”

To her surprise, he did, and then made an impatient circular motion with his right index finger to signal her to keep talking.

Best to start at the beginning, she thought. That was the easy part. Too bad she didn’t know if she could trust him with the ending.

“Shelly’s death could be linked to what happened at the Bassfield Research Facility where I worked,” Kinley explained. “Secrets went missing. Illegal deals were made. The authorities have caught some people responsible, but since there might have been others involved in the illegal activity, they thought it best that I be placed in witness protection in another state.”

“Yet you’re here,” he pointed out. “Not in witness protection but at my company’s Christmas party.”

Kinley was certain she couldn’t keep the emotion or the heartbreak out of her expression. “Finding the item I left with Shelly is critical. It’s worth the risk of leaving witness protection.”

“And you think I know where this…‘item’ is?”

She closed her eyes a moment, shook her head. “I don’t know. But I made a list of all of Shelly’s friends, family members and enemies. I’ve made it through that entire list—”

He put her right back against the wall. It happened so fast that it robbed her of her breath. “You asked these people questions?”

That urgency and his stark concern didn’t help her breathing. “No. I didn’t want to raise any suspicions so I followed them the way I followed you. I watched them, looking for any signs that they might know something.”

His eyes turned even darker. “Because if someone got this item, they’d be able to draw you out of hiding. Why? What do they want?”

“Information about the last project I was working on.” It was a guess. But a good one, since she hadn’t been able to think of another reason. She hadn’t been privy to all top-secret data used in the project, however.

“You were working on antidotes for chemical weapons.” Again, it wasn’t a question.

She nodded, not surprised that he knew about the project that’d nearly gotten her killed and had cost her everything. “The formula for the primary antidote went missing. Someone may think I know where it is. I don’t,” she quickly added. “That’s the truth.”

“For a change.” He turned on his PDA again, scrolled through some pages and stopped on one. Not a picture. This one had some kind of code in it. “That’s your DNA. Day before yesterday, I had Cody collect your cup from the coffee shop, and I ran the test myself. No one but me has seen the results. Or compared it to anyone else’s.”

Oh, mercy.

Her breath shuttered, and there was no way to hold back the flood of emotion or what she had to say. She touched her fingers to her necklace and waited until Jordan’s attention went to the stone. “It’s a red ruby.”

She saw it. The recognition in his eyes. Just a split second. It was all she needed to continue.

“My son would be sixteen months old by now. Brown hair. Brown eyes.” Kinley swallowed hard. “You have him, don’t you? Shelly left him with you?”

Jordan calmly placed the PDA back into his jacket pocket. “Yes.” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “I have him. Your DNA matches his.”

A helpless sound left her mouth. She lost it. Her legs turned limp. Her breath vanished. And if it hadn’t been for Jordan catching her, she would have fallen to the floor. “Thank God.” And even though she knew she sounded hysterical, Kinley just kept repeating it.

“Don’t thank God just yet. The child was safe. Now he’s not. By coming here, you’ve placed him, you and me in grave danger.”

She fought to regain her breath so she could speak. “I never meant to do that, I swear.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” he mumbled. Then cursed. “We have to sanitize this situation and do some damage control.”

She shook her head. “How?”

But before he could answer, the doorknob turned. Kinley tried to brace herself for anyone and anything. It was almost second nature since she’d been living in fear for months.

“This is damage control,” Jordan whispered to her.

He shoved his left hand around the back of her neck, dragged her to him and kissed her.

Chapter Two

While he kissed her, Jordan drew his gun and used their bodies to hide the Sig Sauer.

He wanted the gun ready in case the pretense didn’t work. And in case they were about to be met by someone who’d followed Kinley.

The door opened and from the corner of his eye, Jordan saw their visitors.

Cody and Burke.

Despite his instant relief at seeing nonenemy faces, Jordan didn’t break the kiss. In fact, he took it up a notch and made it look as if he was groping Kinley’s breasts when he reholstered his gun.

“Sorry for the interruption,” Cody drawled.

Only then did Jordan jerk away from her. He tried to look surprised, which wasn’t very difficult since that damage-control kiss had sent a coil of blazing heat through his entire body.

Hell.

Nothing like reacting like a red-blooded male instead of a security specialist in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation.

“Something wrong?” Jordan asked the men. Beside him, Kinley was breathing hard. Hopefully from the danger and not the blasted kiss.

Jordan made a mental note to figure a different form of damage control. Something that didn’t involve her mouth or her breasts.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Burke assured him. He smiled. Cody didn’t. He had a puzzled look on his face. “It’s just that some folks have to leave to go to other parties, and I want to make a toast to celebrate your new semiretired status.”

“Of course.” It couldn’t have come at a better time, because a toast and then an exit was the fastest way to get Kinley out of there.

Kinley smiled and fixed her lipstick. Her mouth was trembling a bit, and she looked as if she’d been popped with a stun gun. Again, he hoped that was from the fear. He took her by the arm, and they followed Burke and Cody.

“I give you a week,” Cody said, looking over his shoulder at Jordan. “And you’ll be so bored you’ll be begging Burke to sell you back the company.”

“I doubt that.” There wasn’t a chance of boredom now that Kinley had arrived with her dangerous baggage. Not a chance, either, of his wanting to buy back Sentron. He didn’t intend to go back to working an eighty-hour week.

Well, maybe not.

He’d made that plan when he thought he would have to devote more time to protecting the child that’d been left on his doorstep. Now that Kinley was here, though, his life was in major limbo.

And so were his emotions.

Jordan slowed his pace and hated that ache in the pit of his stomach. But from the moment he’d run that first DNA test, he had known the child wasn’t his. Biologically, anyway. He’d also known that perhaps one day someone would show up and want the baby back.

He just hadn’t counted on it being tonight.

Part of him had hoped it would never happen. He wasn’t one to wish a person harm, but after fourteen months, he had adjusted to the idea that the baby’s biological parents weren’t coming for him. Or that they were dead, killed by the same people who’d murdered Shelly. And then he’d seen Kinley Ford’s DNA he’d pulled from the coffee cup.

She was the biological mother, all right.

Now the question was, what was he going to do about it?

All eyes shifted in their direction when the four returned to the party. To speed things up, Jordan grabbed two glasses of champagne from the waiter, handed one to Kinley and then slid his arm back around her waist. He even gave her a lusty, long look that he figured everyone could interpret.

Burke lifted his glass into the air. “Ten years ago Jordan Taylor created this company from scratch. He trained every agent in this room. Now Jordan’s company and mine, Burke Securities, will be merged to form not just the best, but the biggest personal security agency in the state. I only hope I’ll earn the same loyalty and support that you’ve shown him over the years.” The glass went higher. “To Jordan. Thanks for creating the benchmark of security services. And thanks even more for selling it all to me.”

That brought a few chuckles, and the room echoed with “Hear! Hear!” and applause as others joined the toast.

Jordan took one last look around the room. “I’ll miss this place and all of you.” He shrugged. “Well, maybe not when I’m tossing back shots of Glen Garioch on a private beach somewhere in the Pacific, but I’m sure there’ll be moments when I’ll miss you…a little.”

Jordan forced a smile, took the master keycard from his jacket and handed it to Burke. A symbolic gesture, but one that tugged at his heart. “Don’t run the place into the ground, all right?”

“I won’t,” Burke assured him.

They shook hands, embraced briefly, while some photos were snapped. But Jordan had no intentions of lingering. He’d already said goodbye to his key agents, including Cody, Desmond Parisi and Alonzo Mateo, and he nodded farewell to two of his newer employees, Chris Sutton and Wally Arceneaux. Then, he took a final sip of the champagne, and he set Kinley’s and his glasses aside so they could head for the door.

Cody stepped out of the gathering to hand Kinley her coat. “You might need this,” he added. Still no smile, not even a phony one. He was obviously riled that Jordan had sold the company. One day Jordan might be able to explain to him why he’d done it. “Enjoy your evening.”

Jordan seriously doubted there’d be anything enjoyable about it. He only hoped it didn’t turn deadly.

He helped Kinley with her coat and tried not to rush to the door. Jordan got them out of there and headed to the adjacent parking lot. It was cold, near freezing, and the wind barreled out of the north right at them. He kept her close, snuggled intimately into the crook of his arm, and he kissed her. This time it was on the corner of her mouth in the hopes that it wouldn’t carry the punch of a full-mouth kiss.

It did anyway.

She was attractive. There was no denying that. But he reminded himself that everything about her was a facade. Well, except for the fear. She was trembling, but he was almost certain it wasn’t from the cold.

Kinley looked up at him. “Where’s my—”

Jordan pressed his lips to hers so she couldn’t finish the question. Still walking, he kept his mouth over hers a second and then drew back slightly. “Lip readers,” he mumbled.

Her smoke-gray eyes widened, and she gave a shaky nod, understanding that if someone were filming them, a lip reader would be able to determine anything they said.

Including a question about the child.

They reached his silver Porsche and got inside, behind the bulletproof custom-tinted glass and into a space that would not only conceal them, but was also sound-proof. They could see out, but no one could see in. And an alarm would beep if anyone tried to scan the vehicle with thermal or sound detectors. Since Jordan heard no beep, it was safe to talk.

But not necessarily smart to tell her everything he knew.

For now, he couldn’t trust her. Yes, Kinley was the birth mother, and she also knew the code word, but that didn’t mean her maternal instincts had been the reason she’d come to him. He needed more answers about her motives, and while he was finding those answers, he had to continue with more damage control.

“Now can I ask my question?” she wanted to know.

He settled for saying, “It’s safe.”

She didn’t waste any time. “Where’s my son?”

Jordan didn’t waste time, either. “You had to have known the risks of coming to me. So why did you?”

She didn’t get defensive. Thanks to the security lights in the parking lot, Jordan could see her clearly. The light bathed her troubled face and danced off the red crystals on her dress.

“I just needed to know he was alive,” she whispered. “That he was okay. I couldn’t live not knowing.” She scraped her thumbnail over the red polish on her right index finger and flaked it off. “I knew there were risks, but I thought I’d minimized them.”

“Obviously not, if I figured out who you were and what you wanted.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t think you had him. I only thought you’d have information. Or rather I hoped you would. I wasn’t very optimistic because I’d read that Shelly and you were enemies, that she embezzled from you.”

Jordan sighed. “That was Shelly’s version of damage control. She didn’t want anyone to be able to link me to the child.”

Still, that hadn’t stopped SAPD and even a federal investigator from questioning him. It also hadn’t stopped three different P.I.s, who’d been hired by God knows who to find out what’d happened in the last minutes of Shelly’s life. Jordan figured all three P.I.s had probably worked for the same person, but he’d never been able to dig through the layers of security and paperwork to come up with a name. Or a reason why the baby was so important.

But that was something Kinley could perhaps tell him.

He used the car’s mirrors to glance around the parking lot. “You’re a cautious woman,” he remarked. “Would you know if someone had followed you?”

“I thought I would. But I was obviously wrong.”

“Other than me, would you know if someone had followed you?” He wasn’t being cocky. He was just better than most at that sort of thing.

“People have followed me in the past, but after I left witness protection this last time, I haven’t noticed anyone.”

That didn’t mean someone wasn’t there. Jordan had another look at those mirrors.

“You gave up your company for my son,” she said. Not a question, nor an accusation. Her voice was heavy with emotion.

He glanced at her and decided to change the subject. “I’m going with two possible theories here. First, that the child’s father is behind all of this danger.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished. “No. He’s dead. He died trying to murder me and my brother.”

Okay. That was a story he knew a little about but wanted to hear more of later. “Second theory. Someone wants the baby for leverage. The people after you want information, and they believe if they have your child, they’ll be able to manipulate you into giving them what they want.”

Kinley stared at him so long he wasn’t sure she would jump on to this subject change, but she finally looked away and returned to chipping off her nail polish. “The research facility where I was employed was working on several projects. One was the chemical weapon antidote that I told you about. Several researchers were working on it, and occasionally, I assisted them.”

“Assisted?” He latched right on to that and mentally cursed when he spotted something he didn’t like in the mirror.

Hell.

“Usually I was just a consult for a particular facet of a project,” she explained. “For instance, I only worked on a portion of the formula for the primary antidote. I never got to see the finished results. None of us did. That was the way the facility maintained security.”

Jordan calmly started the car, put on his seat belt and kept his eyes on the mirror. “But even though you don’t have the big picture, you have pieces. Others have pieces. And you have the names of those others.”

“Yes.” That was all she said for several moments. “Brenna Martel was one of the top lab assistants at the research facility. She’s in a federal prison serving a life sentence. But there are others who disappeared after the facility was destroyed and the federal investigation started.” Another pause. “I’ve written notes about the research, and I’ve gone over them a thousand times, but I just don’t know why someone would still be after me.”

“Notes?” he questioned.

“They’re encrypted,” she huffed, obviously noting his concern. “I wouldn’t just leave information like that lying around for anyone to see.”

But someone would look hard for info like that. “And these notes are where exactly?”

“Hidden in my apartment.”

Jordan didn’t even have to think about this. “I want to see them.” In fact, he wanted to study them and then interrogate Kinley and put anyone in those notes under surveillance until all of this finally made some sense.

“I can show you what I have,” she answered. “But I want to see Maddox.”

He glanced at her, frowned. “Who the hell is Maddox?”

“My son,” she said as if the answer were obvious. “That’s what I named him. You didn’t know?”

“No. Shelly didn’t get around to that when she left him on my doorstep.” Jordan had been calling him Gus. “And I couldn’t exactly go digging for his name or paternity, now could I?”

“No.” Despite the fear and the seriousness of their situation, she smiled softly. “Do you have a picture of him?”

“Not a chance. And as for you seeing him, that’s not gonna happen until you can convince me that you’re here as a mother and not as someone who wants to use him as a pawn in some sick game.”

The smile vanished, and her mouth opened in outrage. “I wouldn’t do that. God, what do you think I am?”

“You’re a woman who left her baby with a bodyguard because it was too dangerous to keep him with you. The danger’s still there.” He glanced in the mirror again.

“I know that,” she snapped. “Shelly had been my friend since high school. I trusted her. And she died protecting my son. If I could change that I would. But I can’t. And I’ve searched and searched, and I can’t make the danger go away.” The minitirade seemed to drain her, and she groaned and rested her head against the back of the seat.

Jordan huffed, glanced in the mirror again and tried not to let her emotion get to him. He didn’t want sympathy or pity playing into this. “This isn’t convincing me that you should be mother of the year.”

That brought her head off the seat. “I don’t want to be mother of the year. I simply want my son.”

“And then what?” he challenged.

“I take him and I find someplace safe.” Her voice grew softer. “If necessary, we’ll live our lives in hiding, but we’ll do that together.”

Not anytime soon, she wouldn’t. Maybe not ever. Jordan didn’t intend to hand over Gus until he was damn sure that it was safe to do so, and Kinley hadn’t done anything to convince him of that.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked.

“Soon, we’ll go to your apartment and get those notes.” However, he also had a more pressing problem. “But for now we’ll just drive, and we’ll see if that guy parked up the street plans to follow us.”

She snapped toward the side mirror and stared into the glass. “What guy?”

“Black sedan near the intersection.”

Her breath suddenly went uneven. “How long has he been there?”

“He arrived not long after we got in the car. It could be nothing,” he admitted. But Jordan didn’t believe that.

It was likely a huge something.

“Put on your seat belt,” he instructed. As he eased out of the parking lot, Jordan kept his attention fastened to his rearview mirror so he could watch the other vehicle.

It pulled out just seconds after they did.

Hell.

Jordan drew his Sig Sauer and got ready for the worst.

Chapter Three

Kinley’s heart dropped.

This couldn’t be happening. She’d been so careful and so sure that no one had followed her. Yet, the black car was there and made the same turn Jordan did when he drove away from the Sentron building.

She felt sick to her stomach. And she was terrified. She had to do something to stop this.

But what?

What she couldn’t do was call the police. That would likely alert the wrong people, and it’d be impossible to explain everything that had happened. That kind of explanation could get her son hurt.

“Let me out,” she insisted. “Maybe he’ll follow me and won’t connect any of this to my son.”

“Too late. We’re already connected. I’m just hoping this person is curious, that’s all, and we can convince him that we’re together because we’re would-be lovers.”

Maybe. But she hated to risk that much on a maybe. She stared in the side mirror. The car stayed steady behind them. “Any idea who is back there?”

“Nope. But I hope to change that.” Placing his gun on his lap, Jordan took out his cell phone, and he pressed in some numbers.

“Cody,” Jordan said when the man apparently answered. “I’m traveling north on San Pedro, and I have a shadow. Can you slip away from the party and run a visual?” A moment later, Jordan ended the call. “Cody will get back to me when he has something.”

Kinley latched on to that hope but still had her doubts. “He’ll be able to see the person following us? How?” she wanted to know.

“Traffic cameras. We might know soon who’s after us. And knowing who might tell us why. We might get lucky. This could be someone from witness protection. It might not have anything to do with Gus.”

“Gus?”

Jordan huffed. “That’s what I call your son.”

She repeated it under her breath. It was hard to pin that name to her baby. She’d always thought of him as Maddox. But then, she hadn’t seen him in fourteen months. He wouldn’t even know her.

But her son obviously knew Jordan.

Where had Jordan kept him all this time? What kind of a caregiver had he been? Kinley wanted to know every precious detail of what she’d missed, but first, they had to deal with the person in that black car.

She checked the mirror again, as did Jordan. The car was still there—at a distance but menacing. “Will you try to lose the guy?”

“Not just yet. I want to give Cody some time to get a photo so he can use the facial recognition program.”

“Good,” she mumbled.

“Well, maybe not good. Remember, I’ve identified others who’ve followed me, and I’ve never been able to link it back to the person who hired them.” He glanced at her. “That’s where you can help. Think hard. Who could have known that you left Gus with Shelly?”

She pulled in a long breath. “I’ve already thought hard, and I don’t believe anyone knew. After all, Shelly had him for nearly a month before the trouble started.”

“Okay. Then what started the trouble?”

Kinley had thought hard about this as well. “A lot of bad things happened around that time. I was drawn out of hiding because someone was trying to kill my brother, Lucky. He’s a P.I., and he started looking for the head researcher, Dexter Sheppard, because Lucky believed Dexter had murdered me. He obviously hadn’t, but Dexter had convinced me and his lab assistant, Brenna Martel, to fake our deaths and his in that explosion.”

“Why do that?” Jordan wanted to know.

“Because Dexter said it was the only way for us to stay alive. He had taken money from the wrong people, and he’d promised to deliver a chemical weapon that we couldn’t deliver. He convinced me that all of us would die if I went to the authorities.”

“And you believed him?”

“Yes,” she said with regret. “I guess Dexter did a good job faking my death because my brother thought I was indeed dead. But he didn’t think the same of Dexter. He thought Dexter was in hiding but couldn’t find him. So, Lucky followed Dexter’s sister, Marin, to Fall Creek, a small town not too far from here. And when the attempts to kill both Marin and my brother started all over again, I knew I had to do something to try to save them.”

“So you went to Fall Creek, too,” Jordan commented.

“I did, and while I was trying to save my brother and Marin, Brenna Martel showed up there. Someone had been trying to kill her, too, and Brenna was desperate. She mistakenly thought if she kidnapped me, then she could force my brother to tell her where Dexter was. But my brother didn’t even have proof that Dexter was alive, much less where he might be hiding out. We soon got proof, of course…when Dexter tried to kill us. He died during that last attempt.”

Jordan stayed quiet a moment, obviously processing all that. “Brenna Martel knew you’d had a baby?”

“Of course. But she didn’t know where he was.”

Jordan cursed under his breath. “This Brenna Martel could have figured out that you and Shelly were old friends. She could have sent someone to get Gus, and Shelly was murdered in the process.”

“I doubt it. Brenna was on the run like me, and she didn’t have the money to hire anyone.” She checked the car behind them again. “I don’t suppose the danger could have stemmed from Shelly? I mean, what if someone was after her for some reason, and they saw Maddox with her and decided to use him to get to her?”

He shook his head. “I dug deep for that connection. Didn’t find it.” Jordan didn’t add more because his phone rang. The call was brief, just a couple of seconds. “Cody has a photo of our snoop in the black car and is looking for a match. Hold on.”

That was the only warning she got before Jordan gunned the engine of the powerful sports car. They bolted forward, and then he took an immediate left turn. Even with her seat belt on, she went sliding against him. She righted herself, looked in the mirror.

The black car was still behind them.

“He’s definitely following us,” Kinley mumbled.

“Yeah.” And that was all Jordan said for several moments. He kept his speed right at sixty, which wasn’t too far over the limit. He also kept watch in the mirror and one hand on his gun when he made another turn.

Toward her apartment, she realized.

Of course, he knew where she lived. He’d probably learned that not long after figuring out who she was. “Is it wise to lead him straight to my place?”

“It is if we’re aiming for more damage control. When we get there, we get out. We look like lovers who can’t wait to hurry inside and have a go at each other. Get your key ready.”

She huffed. “I hate to state the obvious here, but what if he shoots us when we get out?”

“If he’d wanted to shoot us, then he would have done it when we came out of the building. No, I suspect his orders are to follow us and hope that we lead him to whatever information you might have. Or to the baby.”

Her heart dropped again. Because as long as someone was following them, she’d never get to see her son.

Kinley got her keys ready, and Jordan stopped his car directly in front of her apartment. It wasn’t upscale by anyone’s standards. A far cry from the lavish Sentron building and Jordan’s palatial estate. But it’d been all she could afford.

“Stay put,” he insisted. “I’ll get out first and then open your car door.”

She glanced back and saw the black car. It’d come to a stop just up the street. Away from the lights but still visible.

Tucking his gun into his holster, Jordan left the car, hurried to her side and helped her out.

He pulled her right into his arms.

And kissed her.

The kiss landed on the side of her mouth. Not a real kiss, of course. But it had a real impact, just as the other kiss had done. It made her wonder just what kind of impact a genuine kiss would have.

She didn’t have the time or energy to find out, even if her body seemed more than willing to explore the idea.

“See?” he mumbled. “No one’s shooting at us.”

Yet. She hoped she didn’t have to say I told you so.

Jordan kept her pressed to him, and he positioned his right hand next to her breast so he could get his gun. He didn’t linger. He kept up the frenzied fake kiss while he maneuvered her to her apartment door. She reached behind her, unlocked it and they practically tumbled inside.

The security system started to beep, and she punched in the code to prevent it from going to a full alarm. Then, Kinley opened her mouth to tell him that she would get the notes, but Jordan put his fingers to her lips. He stayed close. Nose to nose with her.

“Don’t say anything,” he warned in a whisper.

That spiked her heart rate again. God, did he think someone had broken in? But if so, the person would have triggered the alarm. It was an inexpensive unit, one she’d bought at a discount store a couple of days after she moved in, but unless someone knew the code, she didn’t think they could have easily disarmed it.

Jordan reholstered his gun and took out that strange little platinum PDA again. He pressed a few buttons, lifted it into the air.

“Make sex noises,” he mouthed.

And with that, he added a manly sounding grunt and proceeded to walk around the room. After a few steps, he glanced over his shoulder at her and gave her a get-on-with-it bob of his head.

Kinley moaned.

Apparently, it was a good one because he nodded. Grunted. And he flapped his jacket as if mimicking the sound of clothing being removed. While she checked the bedroom and the small bath, Kinley tossed in some deep breathing, though she didn’t think it was necessary. No one else was in the apartment.

Then she heard the whisper-soft beep.

She turned and spotted Jordan next to the sole lamp in the living room. It was on a scarred end table. Kinley went closer, and when he leaned down, he pointed to a small dime-size disk stuck to the base.

He made more of those sex noises. “A bug,” he mouthed.

She pressed her hand to her lips to stop herself from repeating it, but she couldn’t stop the little gasp. Hopefully, whoever was listening would think it was part of the sex that Jordan and she were faking.

He caught on to her arm, and with the PDA device lifted in the air, they made their way through the other rooms.

No more beeps.

But one was more than enough.

Jordan groaned loudly, hit his arm against the bedroom wall, and he maneuvered her into the bathroom. He slammed the door and turned on the shower.

“Any idea how the bug got there?” he whispered.

“No. But it probably happened before I bought the security system.” And if so, that meant someone had been eavesdropping on her for over two months.

Anger soon replaced the shock. Kinley felt violated and wanted to catch the idiot who’d done this. But more than that, she wanted to know why.

Even though the water was running, and the door was shut, Jordan put his mouth right against her ear. “While you’ve been here, have you talked about Gus?”

“No.” Her answer was quick because she didn’t even have to think about it. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to.”

He pulled back. Stared at her as if he wasn’t sure if he could believe her. “You’re positive?”

“Yes.” Now it was her turn to put her mouth against his ear. “I did all my research on the Internet, and my laptop is password protected. Never once did I mention my son. When I did searches about the people connected to Shelly, I only used her name, not yours, not Maddox’s. If anyone was checking, I wanted to make it look as if I were simply investigating the cold-case murder of an old friend.”

During her entire explanation, she kept noticing the close contact.

Correction: she felt it.

Jordan was against her again. Body to body. He stared at her, and she stared back. Their breaths mingled, and she could smell the smooth whiskey and sip of champagne he’d had at the party.

They’d been doing a lot of touching for two people who were at odds. And they were at odds, no doubt about it. Kinley couldn’t mistake the distrust she saw in him. Maybe other emotions, too.

He wasn’t pleased with her arrival.

She wasn’t pleased about it, either. If she’d known she would bring this kind of danger to her son, she would have stayed away.

“I’m really sorry,” she said.

He continued to stare at her. There was a heat in his eyes. Maybe from the contact. Maybe from his anger. “You should be,” he grumbled. He stepped away, turned off the water and threw open the door.

Jordan made a beeline for her kitchen and opened the only cabinet. “Hey, you don’t have any scotch,” he called out.

“No,” Kinley answered tentatively, not sure if this was part of the game they were playing. “I can run out for some if you like.”

“I have a better idea. Grab a change of clothes, and we’ll go to my place. I have plenty of scotch there.”

His place. Where they’d be able to talk without an eavesdropping device. But it would mean going back outside where that black car was likely still parked and waiting.

“What if he follows us?” she mouthed.

“That’s what I’m hoping. You’ve opened Pandora’s box, and now I’m going to see if I can close it.”

Not understanding, Kinley shook her head. “What does that mean?”

He leaned in again. “I don’t want him or anyone else to think I have something to hide.” He glanced around. “And besides, this place isn’t safe.”

Even though he’d whispered that, it rang through her as if he’d shouted it. “But I don’t want to lead him to Maddox.”

“You won’t.” And with that, he motioned for her to pack. “Bring your laptop and your notes, but put them in an overnight bag so they can’t be seen.”

She didn’t question him further. The only reassurance she’d needed was that this wouldn’t put her son in any more danger than he already was. Besides, it might help if Jordan looked at her notes. He might find something she’d missed. And if they found it, they might also be able to figure out who was behind Shelly’s murder.

Kinley grabbed a small suitcase and hurriedly packed everything she might need for a short stay, including the notes, which she took from inside the lining of a coat she had hanging in the closet. When she came out of the bedroom, Jordan was by the door peeking out the side window.

“Is he still there?” she whispered.

Jordan nodded. He reached out and ran his hand through her hair, messing it up. He did the same to his. No doubt so it’d look as if they’d just had a quick round of sex.

They walked out, their arms hooked around each other, and got into the car. Jordan drove away quickly. So did the other car.

Just as Jordan had predicted, it followed them.

“You’re sure this won’t make things more dangerous for my son?” she asked.

“I’m sure.”

So, that probably meant Maddox wasn’t at his house. But then, there’d been no indication that he was. Jordan likely had him tucked away somewhere. But where? And who was caring for him? It broke her heart to think that her little boy might not get enough hugs and kisses.

Because she’d already driven to Jordan’s house, she was familiar with the route. He lived in a subdivision within city limits but still secluded. It had pricy homes on massive lots, some of them several acres. Jordan’s was one of the largest in the neighborhood. A true Texas-size estate for a Texas millionaire.

Shelly had certainly made a strange choice when she involved Jordan in this.

“Is it true what you said about Maddox—that Shelly left him on your porch the night she died?” Kinley asked. Right now, she wanted every little detail she could learn about her son and what he’d gone through.

Jordan didn’t answer right away. He glanced at her first. “Yes.”

It was hard for her to picture that in her mind. Her baby literally left on a doorstep. “God, what did you think when you opened the door and saw a baby?”

“I thought he was my son.” He stared straight ahead and repeated that softly under his breath. “Then, with Shelly’s murder, it took me a few days to get around to the DNA test. I had Shelly’s DNA on file, since she was a former employee, and when I did the comparison, I learned he wasn’t Shelly’s. Nor mine.”

Was it her imagination or did he sound disappointed? Hurt, even?

But she had to be wrong about that.

Jordan was a ruthless businessman, along with being a rich player who enjoyed the company of lots of women. He would have taken care of her son, but she seriously doubted he would ever think of himself as a father.

“Who’s taking care of him?” Kinley asked.

She waited.

And waited.

He opened his mouth, and she thought she might finally learn an answer to one of her many questions, but before he could say anything, his phone rang.

Jordan didn’t waste any time answering it. “Cody,” he said after glancing at the screen. He took the turn toward his neighborhood. The street switched from four lanes to two, and though it was well lit with a line of streetlights, it felt isolated because the lots were so spacious.

She couldn’t hear Cody’s side of the conversation, but she could see Jordan’s reaction. She noticed his grip tighten on the wheel. Saw the muscles flicker in his jaw.

“You’re sure?” Jordan asked. Then he paused. “No. I’ll take it from here.” Another pause. “I need to ask you to keep this between us.”

A moment later, Jordan ended the call.

“What happened?” Kinley wanted to know when he didn’t offer any information.

“Do you know a guy named Anderson Walker?”

Kinley thought a moment. “No. That name doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”

“He’s the one following us.”

She glanced in the mirror. He was still following them. “What does he want?”

Jordan shrugged, but there was nothing casual about his body language. “He’s a P.I. who works for Burke Securities.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Burke Securities as in the Burke Dennison who bought your company?”

“The very one.”

Kinley shook her head. “Why does Burke have someone following us?”

Another muscle went to work in his jaw. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not being very subtle. And he knows we’re on to him. If I just keep driving, it might send him the wrong message—that we have something to hide.” Jordan took his foot off the accelerator. “Get down now.”

Jordan spun the steering wheel around, causing his Porsche to do a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. It was precise. As if he’d choreographed it, he bumped into the rear side of the black car and sent it into a spin.

Before Kinley could stop him, Jordan drew his gun and threw open the door.

Chapter Four

The black car screeched to a stop.

Jordan hadn’t given the driver much of a choice, since he’d angled his Porsche so that the guy couldn’t get around him. That was the plan, anyway.

It was time to confront this bozo.

Jordan didn’t get out, but he aimed his gun. And he waited. Since this was Burke’s man, Jordan was counting heavily on the fact that the P.I. didn’t have orders to kill. His gut told him this was strictly surveillance. Too bad his gut didn’t tell him why Burke had put a tail on him.

Thankfully, there were no other vehicles on the street. There probably wouldn’t be, either. The street was private, leading only to his neighborhood, and this time of night, there weren’t many residents out and about. Jordan wanted that privacy in case this took an ugly turn.

“Should I call the police?” Kinley asked. Her breath was jagged, and she had her purse in a white-knuckle grip.

“No.” Not yet anyway. If he phoned anyone, it’d be Burke to find out what the devil was going on. That call would still happen, but first he wanted answers from the guy who’d tailed them.

“Anderson Walker!” Jordan called out, and he made sure it didn’t sound like a question.

The man still didn’t budge, and Jordan wondered if he’d made a mistake by jumping into this confrontation.

Especially with Kinley in the car.

Maybe he should have waited, but he really just wanted to end this here and now. He didn’t want anyone following him, especially when he didn’t know their intentions and when they were being so obvious about following Kinley and him.

“Walker!” Jordan shouted.

That did it. The door to the black car opened, and the sandy-haired guy stepped out. Anderson was what Jordan called a muscle man. Bulky shoulders. Young. He looked physically capable of pulverizing someone with his bare hands. Jordan had a few P.I.s like that on the Sentron staff because there were times when a strong arm was needed.

So, why had Burke or Anderson thought he needed some intimidation?

Anderson held his gun in his right hand. Not aimed. He had his index finger through the trigger loop, but the gun dangled upside down in a nonthreatening position.

Jordan went for the threat. He pointed his Sig Sauer right at the man.

“You plan to shoot me?” Anderson challenged. He had cocky written all over him.

“That depends on your answer to my question. Why are you following me?”

Anderson started to shift his gun, as if getting ready to aim. Jordan stepped forward and put his Sig Sauer at the guy’s head. “Don’t,” Jordan warned.

Anderson froze. And Jordan said a silent prayer of thanks. He didn’t want to start a gunfight, and he didn’t want to put Kinley in danger. She apparently had enough danger after her without his adding more.

“Toss your gun into your car,” Jordan instructed.

Anderson looked at his gun. At Jordan’s. Then at Jordan himself. Jordan put on his best scowl, which he didn’t have to fake. There was plenty to scowl about. Anderson finally relented and put the gun inside his car. That didn’t mean they were safe because Jordan figured the guy was carrying at least one other backup pistol. Heck, he might even have actual backup in the form of another P.I. or security agent.

“Why are you following me?” Jordan repeated.

“It’s not personal.”

Jordan arched his left eyebrow and gave him a flat look. “And that’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer I can give you. My employer didn’t say why he wanted you followed, only that I was to report where you went tonight and who went with you.”

That was a lot of info crammed into that brief two-sentence report. “Why didn’t Burke just ask me where I was going? I saw him at the party less than an hour ago.”

The guy blinked. “Because Burke didn’t hire me.”

Jordan studied the guy’s face, looking for any sign that he was lying, but he seemed darn smug about telling the truth. “Then who did?”

“Dunno. I was contracted freelance through a broker.”

A broker. In other words, a middle man who acted as a go-between for P.I.s and clients who didn’t want to be identified. That didn’t mean the employer couldn’t be traced. It just meant Jordan would have to dig through some layers to get to it. Judging from what Anderson had said, Kinley was the reason for this since his employer had wanted to know who went anywhere with Jordan.

“What did your broker-using employer tell you to do?” Jordan questioned.

“Wait outside Sentron.” The man paused. “And when you left, I was to follow you and report back.”

They were simple instructions, but they could have deadly implications.

Jordan stared at him. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a really lousy P.I. or if you wanted me to know I was being followed.”

Anderson lifted his shoulder.

“Well?” Jordan pressed. “Which is it?”

It still took him several moments to answer. “I was told to be obvious.”

So, this was for intimidation. “Why?”

“Wasn’t told that,” Anderson insisted.

Jordan was about to push for more details, but he spotted the headlights of another vehicle. He eased his gun to his side so as not to alarm any of his neighbors who might be coming home late.

But the car stopped.

It stayed idling just up the street. And the driver kept the high beams on so that the blinding light glared through the darkness.

Anderson glanced back at the car. “I’m leaving now. My advice—you do the same.”

“Who’s your friend in the car?” Jordan demanded.

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