He lives by the law.

She’s dodging death at every turn.

Craving closure from the blaze that took her father and her memory, Nadine Stuart returns home hoping to find peace. But the nightmare begins and the only thing that saves her from being pulled into the inferno is Anderson Somers’s determination to protect her. The undercover detective’s hot on the heels of a killer—and every instinct insists Nadine will be the next victim.

Amazon bestselling author MELINDA DI LORENZO writes in her spare time—at soccer practices, when she should be doing laundry and in place of sleep. She lives on the beautiful west coast of British Columbia, Canada, with her handsome husband and her noisy kids. When she’s not writing, she can be found curled up with (someone else’s) good book.

Also by Melinda Di Lorenzo

Undercover Justice

Captivating Witness

Undercover Protector

Worth the Risk

Last Chance Hero

Silent Rescue

Trusting a Stranger

Deceptions and Desires

Pinups and Possibilities

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Undercover Protector

Melinda Di Lorenzo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07863-4

UNDERCOVER PROTECTOR

© 2018 Melinda Di Lorenzo

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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To those who have overcome, and to those who are still fighting the battle.

A heartbeat later, Anderson was standing inside the supposedly secure staff lounge, his eyes on the glass door at the rear of the room.

Through it, he could see just what he needed to.

Nadine Stuart.

She was planted on the edge of the sidewalk in the taxi zone, her head down, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Anderson walked toward the door, watching as she hung up, stuck the phone into her bag, then fixed her eyes straight ahead. When she started to cross the narrow strip of pavement in front of her—presumably toward the bench she had in her sights—a navy-colored car on the same side of the road started to move, too. First at a crawl. Then a little faster.

Worry hit Anderson like a truck.

He threw himself against the door, slamming it open so hard that he half expected it to shatter or at least crack. He wrapped his arms around Nadine’s waist. And he pulled her out of sight and just before the navy car screeched through the spot where she’d just been standing.

* * *

Undercover Justice: Four brothers-in-arms on a mission for justice...

* * *

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

Dear Reader,

One of my favorite parts about being a writer is being able to create characters with rich background stories. When a hero and heroine hit the first page, they’ve already had a lifetime of experiences—some heartache and tragedy, uplifting times, and memorable events. It’s this lifetime that’s made them into the woman or man you find between the chapters, and oftentimes, as an author, it’s my job to layer those stories. Though the pivotal moments are still to come, it’s important to know how they got there, even when every birthday cake or skinned knee isn’t explained.

In Undercover Protector (book two of the Undercover Justice series) Nadine Stuart is one of those characters whose background I thought a lot about. We’re introduced to Nadine in book one, and she’s definitely a prickly pear with a troubled past. But in spite of that exterior, we also know she has a soft side because she’s a well-liked third-grade teacher. Thankfully, our hero, Detective Anderson Somers, is willing to take the time to peel back her layers. He’s as kind and patient as he is protective. He knows a thing or two about loss, too.

I hope you love the many facets of these two characters as much as I do!

Happy reading,

Melinda Di Lorenzo

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Introduction

Dear Reader

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

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter 1

All around Nadine Stuart, thick, black smoke pressed in. The scent of charred wood and plastic mingled in the air, making her choke. She could hear voices, too, and even if she couldn’t work out what they were saying, she knew they were urging her to run. But her feet were leaden, her mind sluggish. And the longer she stood still, the less motivated she felt to move.

It’s the lack of oxygen.

The thought made sense, but its cool logic seemed out of place in the chaos.

She drew in a breath and willed herself to go. To move. Before it was too late. But the only thing that sped up was her heart in her chest. It thundered so hard that it hurt. Above her head, a dangerous crack resounded, and she knew if she looked up, the ceiling would be crashing down.

She squeezed her lids shut.

A scream built up in her throat.

Her mouth dropped wide.

She threw back her head.

And with the exception of her pulse, everything around her went still. Ever so slowly, Nadine dragged her eyes open. Then she blinked, and reality came flooding in. There was no smoke, no scream and no paralyzing terror. Instead, there was disinfectant-scented air, soft white light and the steady hum of medical machinery.

The hospital, she thought.

Though to be more accurate, it was the Whispering Woods Acute Care Facility. The mountainside tourist town was too small to have a real hospital, but the influx of outsiders twice a year—summer and winter—necessitated something more formal than a simple clinic. Nadine wished she could be thankful for it, but she’d been stuck in the same bed for seven days. Being under lock and key for that long was more than enough. And the unpleasant icing on the unpleasant cake was that the nightmares—an off-and-on staple for nearly the last decade—seemed more frequent here in the yellow-walled room.

She sighed. If she’d been back home in Freemont City, she would’ve simply discharged herself.

Except Freemont’s not really home anymore, is it?

Nadine swallowed, wishing she could simply shove off the reminder. It wasn’t like she’d left anything behind. Her things were boxed up or sold. Her old job belonged to someone else. And her ex was probably in bed, his arms wrapped up around his current fling.

And you washed your hands of that life on purpose.

That much was true. For six months after her breakup with Grant, she’d walked around in a daze. She’d done her best to be there for her cherubic students with their sweet questions, but, really, she hadn’t been able to get into a proper teaching groove. So when a lawyer had shown up on her doorstep and informed her that she’d inherited her childhood home in Whispering Woods—a shock because she’d assumed that everything her mom owned had been spoken for a year prior when she passed—she hadn’t even hesitated. Kismet, she’d called it. Especially when the teaching position at Whispering Woods Elementary had fallen into her lap, too.

Except in the month or so since she’d arrived in town, she hadn’t accomplished much in the way of teaching. And she’d accomplished even less in regard to cleaning out her inherited apartment. Instead, she’d watched her half brother get shot. She’d been caught up in some decade-and-a-half-old crime that somehow also tied to the decade-old accident that she couldn’t remember. And, according to the few people who knew what was really going on, the police weren’t even aware of her brother’s murder. It was as chilling as it was concerning. Thankfully, the corrupt cop who’d killed him was also dead, and though she was responsible for the event that caused his death, the local authorities investigating had ruled it an accident. But now Nadine was stuck in a hospital bed with an IV in her hand and a generally bad taste in her mouth. And of course there was the wannabe guard at her door. A detective from Freemont with his own ties to the crimes in question.

Her eyes drifted to the narrow blinds of her interior window. She could just see the man’s slumped-over form on the bench in the hall. So far, Detective Anderson Somers hadn’t budged much from his spot. She was pretty sure he’d been living off vending-machine sandwiches. Maybe the same watery coffee dispensed there, as well.

Nadine let out a heavy breath and looked away. If his presence didn’t bother her so much, she might’ve felt a little sorry for him. She doubted that being her watchdog was as exciting as his usual day-to-day work.

He probably hates it here as much as I do.

But even with that acknowledgment, she could barely manage to drum up more than a trickle of empathy. Because Anderson Somers’s presence was the real reason she couldn’t discharge herself. It was he who’d insisted to the doctor that Nadine needed the extra recovery time. He’d said it all in a too-nice voice, reeling off some medical jargon about head injuries, smiling like he cared. He had a nice smile. Even teeth. And it always touched his eyes. So the doctor had bought it. Of course.

Nadine narrowed her own eyes at the window. What, exactly, had the detective said to the staff at the care facility about his relationship with her? she wondered. What would make them think he could speak on her behalf? She was truly curious, but she wouldn’t dare ask.

Like he could feel her eyes on him, Anderson shifted in his seat, his head lifting enough that Nadine could see his shaggy blond mop. She quickly sank back against her pillow and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring. A second later, she worried that maybe he had, for her door whooshed open and soft footfalls tapped along the floor, then stopped not far from the edge of her bed.

Nadine feigned sleep, inhaling and exhaling at a carefully measured pace. At a count of ten, the steps receded, and then the door shut. When she lifted her lids and peered through her lashes, she saw that the bench outside was now empty.

Hmm. So he’s been sneaking away when I sleep.

For some inexplicable reason, the idea bothered her as much as the fact that he’d been watching her around the clock. She narrowed her eyes again. Then pursed her lips. And finally smiled as a realization occurred to her. This was the perfect opportunity to free herself. From both the detective’s scrutiny and the doctor’s.

Nadine slid her legs out from under her covers, then swung them over the side of the bed. She waited for a reaction of some kind. A yell from the nurses station, or for Anderson to suddenly pop his head in and shoot her one of his too-sympathetic smiles. But there was just the same silence as there had been when she was tucked nicely under the blankets.

So she took it a step further. She reached over to her automatic IV unit and pressed the off button. Then she waited some more. No alarm sounded. No one came running.

“All right, then,” she murmured to herself.

With her eyes on the door, she took ahold of the tape that held the plastic tubing to her hand and pulled it off. Then she pressed her pinky finger firmly against the port and tugged out the tube itself. It came free with ease—no mess, no pain. It was almost too easy.

Nadine breathed out. Maybe she should’ve felt a bit of guilt as she shouldered into her sweatshirt. Or as she grabbed her shoulder bag. Maybe she should’ve admitted that it was a bit unreasonable to go running out of the care facility like she was doing. But she wasn’t going to let either thing stop her. No way would being stuck where she was get her any closer to getting justice for her brother. Or any closer to filling in the gaps in her memory. She needed to be moving. Looking. And in order to do those things, she couldn’t be kept under guard in a hospital bed.

She cast a final look over the room, slid her feet into her slippers and slipped out into the hall.

* * *

As Detective Anderson Somers rounded the corner in the hall that led to ward 3B, he just about dropped his coffee. A woman who looked an awful lot like Nadine Stuart was moving very quickly in the other direction.

Blond hair, almost shaved up one side and a shock of bluntly straight locks on the other. Yep. Brown eyes, a little guarded and a lot defiant. Uh-huh. Then she turned her head just enough that he could see the distinctive scar along the line of her cheek. It was her. No doubt. Complete from the rosebud mouth to the sheep-print pajama bottoms.

For a second, Anderson was too startled to do much more than stare. What was she even doing awake, let alone scurrying through the hall? It was two in the morning. He’d barely seen her out of the bed since she’d been admitted the week before, and less than five minutes earlier, he’d checked in on her to make sure she was asleep before he took off to grab some coffee that wasn’t vending-machine swill.

“Were you faking it, princess?” he wondered aloud.

She must’ve been. It wasn’t like she’d made it a secret that she wasn’t happy being cooped up. Imprisoned, she’d called it at one point. So it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that she would—

“Dammit,” Anderson muttered, his brain catching up to the fact that she was on the run just as she disappeared into one of the elevators at the end of the hall. “You were faking it.”

He took a final, irritated sip of his coffee, then set it down on the lip of a nearby trash bin and strode after her. When he reached the elevators, though, his mood grew even sourer. The lights over the first set of doors—the ones that had swallowed Nadine—were burned out, so he couldn’t tell if she’d headed for the lobby or the underground exit or some other escape route entirely. The second set of doors had been hung with an out-of-service sign. To top it all off, as Anderson turned to the final set, a team of frantic nurses pushed by him, wheeling a gurney and a crash cart. He jumped out of their way. Even if it wouldn’t have been tacky to join them in the elevator, there wasn’t room.

With a frustrated grumble, he spun toward the stairs. At least shoving the heavy door open provided a much-needed release of annoyance. Slamming his feet into the concrete steps was pretty good, too. As he moved down them as quickly as he could, he tried to calm his mind. He considered himself to be a patient man. More than reasonable. Since the moment his partners had asked him to keep tabs on Nadine Stuart, however, both his patience and reason had been sorely tested. From her snippy comments and looks full of distaste to her need to call him by his title—Detective with a capital D—every time no one else was in earshot, yeah, she was definitely putting him about as close to the edge as he ever got. It was the whole reason he’d moved from keeping vigil inside her room to acting a glorified bodyguard outside of it instead.

He kept reminding himself that she’d been through some tough things in the last little while. Things that could break a person. Losing her brother violently. Being thrust under the very dark microscope of Jesse Garibaldi—the same man who was responsible for his own father’s death fifteen years earlier.

Jesse Garibaldi.

Just thinking that man’s name was enough to make Anderson grit his teeth.

Fifteen years, he and his three partners had been chasing the man. They’d finally found him holed up here in Whispering Woods.

Holed up? No. That’s not quite right.

The evil man wasn’t in hiding. He was in plain sight. Ruling the town through money. Using the people in it to further his own agenda.

Anderson knew just what it felt like to be on the losing end of that particular stick. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Smart-mouthed Nadine Stuart included.

Somehow, though, being forced to chase the woman through the medical center dulled his ability to be quite as sympathetic as he should be. What kind of person ran from help? She had to know unequivocally that Anderson wasn’t a threat. Hell. She was the only person in all of Whispering Woods who was fully aware of his agenda. It made little sense to buck against his protection. All the stubbornness in the world wouldn’t keep her safe if Garibaldi got ahold of her.

Anderson had reached the landing that led to the lobby then and paused in his run. Going out that way was the straightest shot to freedom. It meant going past the information and intake desk, but it was still the quickest route out. Would Nadine be most interested in speed, or would she try to do something trickier? If he had to guess, he’d say she was the kind of woman who’d go for clever. Of course, she’d also probably assume that Anderson wouldn’t be far behind. He weighed the options, then eyed the door and made his decision.

“Lobby it is,” he said, his voice echoing through the stairwell.

He pushed through and found the wide space almost empty. The only person in sight was a solitary woman sitting behind the desk with her nose buried in a book, and she didn’t even glance up as Anderson walked straight up to her. He fought a need to grit his teeth at the lack of security and told himself that a care facility like this one wasn’t supposed to be under lock and key. It was the reason his own presence was a necessity. Still, he would’ve felt a little better if he thought that Nadine had met with a bit of a challenge.

He cleared his throat and fixed a polite smile onto his face. “Excuse me?”

The woman lifted her eyes and aimed a bored stare his way. “Yes?”

“Sorry for the interruption, but did you happen to see a blonde woman come by in the last minute or two?”

“People come and go all the time.”

“This one would’ve been in pajamas.”

“Pajamas?”

“With a sheep theme.”

“Are we talking about a patient?”

Anderson pressed his lips together for a moment before answering. Sounding the alarm about a patient on the run seemed a bit over the top. He somehow doubted it would help Nadine want him around, too.

“Just a woman with a strong love of casual wear,” he said.

“And casual wear is now sheep-themed pajamas?” The woman lifted a dubious eyebrow.

“Guess it is.”

“Then, no.”

“No?”

“I haven’t seen a blonde woman in casual wear come by in the last one or two minutes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Every person who comes in or out has to walk right past me.”

“True enough. Thanks anyway.”

Fighting a need to curse, he turned back toward the stairs and stopped. From where he stood, he could hardly see the first set of elevator doors. He was standing up. If he’d been sitting down like the woman behind the desk, he doubted he’d be able to see them at all. It’d be easy enough to exit the elevator and veer to the right instead of the left.

“What’s at the other end of the hall?” he asked.

The woman let out a sigh. “What?”

Anderson pointed. “If I went down there instead of past you.”

“Staff lounge.”

“Any way to get out?”

“Are you sure this isn’t about a patient?”

“Yes,” he lied.

She sighed again. “There’s an exit. But in order to get to the exit, you need to get into the staff lounge. And in order to get into the staff lounge, you need a passkey. So unless your friend in the pajamas is a staff member, she couldn’t have gone that way.”

Anderson forced another smile. “Thanks again.”

His cop’s gut was rearing its head, telling him that Nadine would’ve found a way. He didn’t waste time questioning his instincts. Moving quickly, he took long, decisive steps across the linoleum. In seconds, he reached a door clearly labeled with a Staff Lounge sign. There he stopped and studied the locking mechanism. It was a simple, magnetic swipe system. With a quick glance around, he yanked his wallet from his pocket and chose a card at random, then jammed it into the slot. The light above the handle flickered but stayed red. He yanked his card free and threw the door a glare.

“Card get demagnetized?” said a voice from over his shoulder.

Anderson turned and nodded at the man who’d appeared behind him. “Guess so.”

The man smiled. “Happens to me about twice a week. Gotta love overpriced technology that only works a quarter of the time. Here, I’ll let you in with mine.”

“Thanks.”

A heartbeat later, he was standing inside the supposedly secure staff lounge, his eyes on the glass door at the rear of the room. Through it, he could see just what he needed to.

Nadine Stuart.

She was planted on the edge of the sidewalk in the taxi zone, her head down, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Anderson walked toward the door, watching as she hung up, stuck the phone into her bag, then fixed her eyes straight ahead. When she started to cross the narrow strip of pavement in front of her—presumably toward the bench she had in her sights—a navy-colored car on the same side of the road started to move, too. First at a crawl. Then a little faster.

Worry hit Anderson like a truck.

He threw himself against the door, slamming it open so hard that he half expected it to shatter or at least crack. He didn’t stop to check if it did. He dived forward. He wrapped his arms around Nadine’s waist. And he pulled her out of sight and out of harm’s way a heartbeat before the navy car screeched through the spot where she’d just been standing.

Chapter 2

Nadine’s chest compressed and the air blew out of her lungs as her body flattened between Anderson’s solid form and the concrete pillar behind her. Vaguely she was aware that just ahead on the other side of the bushes where they now stood, a car had first careened to a halt, then peeled out. But, mostly, the man pinning her to the spot took her attention.

His arms were firm around her waist, his hands warm on her hips. If she’d been able to breathe, she might’ve demanded to know what he thought he was doing. As it was, all she could do was work to draw in a gasp of air as she glared up at him. His ocean-blue eyes stared back, no apology for the intrusion touching them. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed before how intense and stormy his irises were. She felt like she was being sucked in. Drowning. But maybe in a good way. If that was even possible.

After what felt like a lifetime but what really couldn’t have been more than few seconds, he finally released his hold on her. Physically, anyway. His gaze still held her.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demanded gruffly.

She sucked in a trickle of oxygen, then managed to exhale a single-word reply. “No.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

She tried again. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Speak.

“How do you figure?” It was better, if only slightly.

“You snuck out of the hospital and—”

“Care center.”

“What?”

“It’s technically not a hospital.”

“So?”

“So if you’re going to throw around accusations, you should get your facts straight first.”

“Are you helping me argue?”

“Someone has to. Clearly.”

His mouth twitched just a little. “Okay. You snuck out of the care facility and—”

“Sneaked,” she corrected.

“Really?”

“Well. It’s the more correct word. Snuck is acceptable, but if you want to sound smart...”

“So I seem like I care if I sound smart?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Fine. You sneaked out of a care facility where you’re supposed to be on bed rest with IV fluids because you suffered a head injury. In the middle of the night. Does that cover my concern about the death wish?”

“I asked to be checked out days ago,” she replied. “And they were going to let me go until you talked them into keeping me. My leaving isn’t a death wish. It’s a preservation of my sanity.”

“In your attempt to preserve your sanity, did it slip your mind that it’s not safe for you to be walking around alone?” he countered.

“I live here. I need to be able to cross the street without a bodyguard.”

“Someone just tried to run you down, Nadine.”

“Accidents happen.”

His mouth set in a flat line for a second before he answered. “You really think that was an accident?”

Her heart fluttered nervously, but she brushed it off. “Of course.”

“It’s the middle of the night. The spot where you crossed was well lit. There were no other cars, no other people and no reason for whoever that was to come tearing through like that. Think about it for just a second.”

She swallowed. She’d been so wrapped up in her escape that she hadn’t been paying much attention to what was happening around her. Had she even noticed the car before it zoomed past? Would she have seen it at all if it weren’t for Anderson? And if she had seen it, would it have been too late?

And what about the most important question? added a pushy little voice in her head. Is Anderson right? Was the swipe in my direction purposeful?

Now that he’d put the idea forward, she couldn’t deny that it was a possibility. She’d seen what Jesse Garibaldi’s men—or one of them, anyway—was capable of. Her brother’s death was proof of the ruthlessness. And that didn’t even factor in the pipe bomb and fire that had killed her father and scarred her for life.

Unconsciously, she lifted her fingers and ran them over the puckered marks that followed the curve of her cheek. And unexpectedly, Anderson’s hand joined hers. She was too surprised to pull away. Even when he tipped her face up so that their eyes locked again, she didn’t move. Or maybe she couldn’t.

“Now that you’re thinking about it,” he said softly, “and you see that it might be true, do you understand why I might think you’re putting yourself in danger by running out like that?”

Nadine drew a breath. It annoyed her that he was right. It got her back up just enough that she couldn’t help but shake her head, and the motion dislodged Anderson’s grip. For a second, his hand hung in the air. Then he dropped it and shook his head, too.

“No?” he said. “Really? You can’t even acknowledge that staying here might be safer for you?”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re right or not,” she replied. “What matters is that I’m being treated like an incompetent invalid. I’m the one who found Garibaldi’s underground storage unit. Didn’t your partner tell you that?”

“Of course he did. Brayden told me—and the others—everything before he and Reggie left for Mexico.” He shot her a look as he said it.

She refused to be embarrassed. When “everything” happened, Nadine hadn’t known that Brayden Maxwell was an undercover detective searching for Jesse Garibaldi. All she’d been sure of was that Reggie Frost—a waitress at the local diner—had witnessed her brother Tyler’s murder. Nadine had just been protecting herself. So, yes. “Everything” might’ve included knocking Anderson’s friend on the head, a little bit of breaking and entering, and a small run-in with Reggie. But it also meant she’d kept her identity a secret, eluded a trained professional and only come forward because she wanted to.

Her reply came out strong. “So if you know everything, then why am I being kept tied to a bed in a hospital?”

He scratched at his chin, his face showing his frustration clearly. “Look, Nadine...”

“Yes, Detective?” There was more than a hint of sarcasm in her reply.

“It’s just plain safer for you to be in one spot.”

“My apartment is one spot.”

“Your apartment is also private.”

“Isn’t that better?”

“No. The hosp—care center, I mean, is full of people around the clock. Approaching you there would be a dangerous move for Garibaldi.” He spit out the man’s name with a grimace, then added, “We know that he doesn’t want to expose himself publicly, so staying here...”

“But for how long, Anderson? There are only fifteen long-term rooms here, and if I had to guess, I’d say you can only talk the doctors into believing I’m more injured than I am for another few days at most. And after that, you can’t expect me to just hide. The school is waiting for me to come back. People will start to talk. It’s not like it’s a secret that I’m here. You’re protecting me and exposing me at the same time.”

He had a funny look on his face, and she had a feeling he might’ve missed everything she’d just said.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”

“Is there something you’d rather be called? You don’t look like much of an Andy, but if that’s what you want...”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You’ve been calling me ‘detective’ for a week.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not when anyone can hear.”

“No,” he agreed. “When anyone can hear, you don’t call me anything at all.”

“We’re getting off topic.”

“You’re right. We are. We need to be talking about you going back upstairs.”

“No. We need to talk about the fact that I’m going home.”

“You can’t go home, Nadine. Garibaldi’s men could be watching your apartment. Waiting for a wrong move.”

Fear made her shiver. “I don’t want to stay here.”

He lifted his hand again, reached it toward his face, then dropped it to his side instead. “First, let’s go back upstairs. If you really think you can’t stay here, I’ll call the team. I’ll see what they say. We’ll find a solution. I promise.”

“You promise?” she echoed doubtfully.

“Do you think I like the idea of living my life on a bench outside your room? ’Cause I really don’t. I can’t get any further in my case if I’m playing watchdog. And I’d really like to build on what Brayden found out about Garibaldi.”

“So go work on it, then.”

“And leave you unprotected? I don’t think so. That’s not how I work. Whether you think so or not, keeping you alive is more important to me than making progress on the case.”

Another snarky reply popped into Nadine’s mind, but a trickle of conscience kept her from saying it aloud. She’d been right when she’d surmised that the detective had things he’d rather be doing. But she hadn’t really considered it in terms of a sacrifice on her behalf.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go back up. But I don’t want the IV. And I want to know that you’re going to keep that promise.”

His face cleared, a charming smile making an appearance. “I will.”

“Don’t be smug.”

“I’ll try not to be.”

“That sounded smug.”

“Sorry.”

“Can we just go?”

“Yep.” He stepped back and swept an arm out. “Ladies first.”

Nadine snorted. She moved ahead of him anyway. But as they came out from their secluded spot, she stopped abruptly. The care center’s lobby was jam-packed, and the wail of distant sirens cut through the air.

* * *

It took Anderson only a second to figure out that the facility was in the process of being evacuated. A couple of administrative staff held clipboards and were checking off names and filtering people through to frazzled-looking medical personnel. Mobile patients to one spot. Those in wheelchairs to another. He cast a glance toward Nadine. Whatever was going on, he was damned sure it had something to do with her. Which meant he needed to get her as far away as possible.

He grabbed her elbow and started to steer her away from the building.

“Well,” he said, “I guess you’re going to get your wish and not be stuck here any longer.”

She let him guide her for all of five steps before she planted her feet so hard that his fingers slipped from her arm. “Wait.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t you think we should find out what’s going on?”

“It’s an evacuation.”

“An evacuation? Why are they still inside, then?”

“They must be confident that whatever’s happened, the lobby is secure,” he said. “And they could be doing a full head count before they escort them all outside. Easier to keep everyone straight if no one can wander off.”

Nadine’s gaze swiveled sharply to the scene. “A head count?”

“Yes.”

“So they’ll figure out that I’m gone.”

“Presumably. But I’m more concerned about making sure you’re safe than I am about reassuring the staff that they’ve got the right number of patients.”

“But it could be worse in the long run. I really think we should take a minute and ask what happened.”

Anderson’s teeth wanted to grind together, and he wondered if this new state of impatience was going to become permanent. “If I go over there and ask, will you agree to leave?”

She nodded. “It’s not like I want to stay.”

Now his teeth did grind together. “I’m going to walk you to the spot we were a second ago, and I want you to promise me you’ll stay put.”

Amusement made her brown eyes warm for a second. “Like a good girl?”

“Right. As if that’s the role you’re going for.”

A laugh escaped her lips as his hand closed on her elbow again, and for a second, Anderson was surprised into stillness. In the week since he’d met her, he hadn’t once heard Nadine laugh. It was a nice sound, and Anderson liked it enough that he almost forgot his irritation.

At least until she spoke again, her voice back to its slightly stinging tone. “Are we going?”

He jerked his head in a short nod of ascent. “Yep.”

He guided her quickly to the other side of the bushes, shot her his best stern-cop look, then moved away again. Fast enough that she couldn’t comment. As he strode toward the front of the building, though, he kind of wished he could hear that laugh of hers again. It was light and pleasant. Not quite musical. But almost.

Yeah, he definitely wanted to hear it again. Preferably soon.

He reached the automatic glass doors then, and they slid open. He tried to step through, smiling automatically as a woman in a nurse’s uniform approached him right away and stopped him from going any farther.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“I hope so.”

“Well, I’ll try. But I’m afraid we’ve got a bit of situation and can’t let in any visitors.”

“Yeah, I figured that much out.” He widened his smile. “I was actually already inside. Took a patient for a walk a short bit ago. Just a little worried about getting her back in.”

“What’s the patient’s name?”

“Nadine Stuart.”

The nurse bent to make a note, then lifted her head again and smiled back at him. “All right. She’s accounted for.”

“She is?” He couldn’t quite keep the surprise from his voice.

She laughed. “That’s a good thing. And her doctor himself noted that he saw her out here, so even better. We’re actually taking everyone outside shortly so the police can do their thing. I’m going to suggest just sitting tight for now.”

“Anything we should be worried about?” Anderson asked, relieved that if there had to be a head count error that at least it worked in his favor.

The nurse turned her head to the side like she was checking to see if anyone was listening before she leaned a little closer. “You’re probably better to hear this from me anyway. Rumors from everyone won’t be accurate.”

“Definitely not.”

“A patient saw someone in a mask sneaking around upstairs.”

Anderson stifled a frown. “Scary.”

The nurse nodded. “If it’s true.”

“You don’t think it is?”

“Who knows? No one else saw anything. But the guy was adamant. Says Mr. Mask went right past his room on the third floor. So here we are.”

“Well. Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem.”

He offered her a final smile, then turned on his heel. As he exited the door, he was glad to have left when he did—the siren was now at a high, and the familiar flash of blue and red appeared at the end of the block. He stepped up his pace to just under a jog and slid behind the bushes.

“All right, Nadine, I think we—”

His words died abruptly on his lips. The spot where he’d left her was empty.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

He turned back to the open space behind him, his head whipping back and forth in search of her. There was plenty to see—two police cars had driven up onto the shoulder of the road and the people inside were being moved, single file, to the exterior of the building. The one thing he saw no sign of was Nadine Stuart.

Cursing, Anderson swept his gaze wider.

Now seemed like a bad moment for to assert her need for independence. She might think she was taking advantage of the chaos, but the reality was that there were a dozen people who might see her and stop her. People who were—rightly—motivated to keep her from disappearing into the night. She sure as hell wouldn’t want to be accosted by any well-meaning cops or doctors.

Or by a masked lunatic roaming the halls.

Anderson dropped another curse as a second possibility filled his mind.

Maybe she didn’t leave willfully. Maybe someone took her.

Concern quickly overtook his irritation. He inched out a little farther, knowing that if he drew attention to himself—an out-of-place man hiding on the property—he’d risk sabotaging his whole case. The local cops wouldn’t appreciate having their toes stepped on, and though his own boss had sanctioned the investigation, they were supposed to tread lightly until they had proof of Garibaldi’s wrongdoings. Anderson knew he’d be walking a thin line if he got hauled in. He’d be asked questions he didn’t want to answer.

And that’s not even factoring in Nadine.

His jaw clenched with worry as he scanned the grounds and the crowd once more. Aside from the general confusion happening right then, he didn’t spy anything that looked terribly at odds with the surroundings. No strange vehicles, no one lurking in the shadows. He breathed out, told himself that was a good indication that Nadine hadn’t been grabbed, and he tried to focus on potential escape routes.

Where would he go if he was trying to escape notice and slip away? As soon as the question came into his head, he knew the answer. He’d try to blend in with the crowd. Take true advantage of the chaos so as not to stand out, then slip away the moment an opportunity presented itself. His eyes came to the group of people in the courtyard. Now that they were all outside and spread out a little, he could see that there weren’t more than fifty of them. Ten or so medical personnel, half that many nonmedical staff, a few nicely dressed administrators, a few people who were casually dressed and appeared to be overnight visitors, plus two dozen patients in varying shapes, sizes and conditions. Anderson focused on the last group, ruling them out, one by one.

Nine were men. Six were kids. The remainder were women. A few were too old to fit the bill. A few were brunettes. One was on crutches, one in a wheelchair. Another, though, made Anderson narrow his eyes. The woman stood just outside of the main group, her shoulders slumped, a blanket draped over her head and squeezed at her chin.

Bingo.

He took one wide step toward the crowd. He started to take a second, then stopped short as a hand landed on his arm. Instinctively, he spun, raising his fist as he prepared to defend himself.

Chapter 3

By the time Nadine lifted her face, Anderson’s balled-up fingers were already flying toward her face. She knew she should be pulling back or ducking—anything to protect herself from impact—but, instead, she panicked. She couldn’t even squeeze her eyes shut; she just froze, waiting for impact. But it didn’t come. His fist stopped just a hairbreadth from her cheek, so close that she could feel its warmth. It hung there for a long moment before it dropped down to close on her wrist. He pulled her back to the spot between the bush and the pillar and rounded on her.

“Nadine.” Her name was almost a growl. “What’re you doing?”

Her voice shook as she answered, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

He dropped his arm and he exhaled. “Where were you?”

Nadine held out her bag. “I dropped this when you saved me from the car.”

“Well, I’m thrilled you’re acknowledging that I saved you. But I’m confused about why you thought it was a good idea to go grab the bag? Now?”

“I thought it would look suspicious just sitting there in the middle of the road.”

“You could’ve been caught by the cops. Or by—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “We should leave.”

But she wasn’t going to just let it go—not with the way her heart suddenly jumped in her chest. “Or by who?”

“No one. Let’s just go.”

“By who, Anderson?”

“Whoever’s after you, Nadine.” His hand, which she just realized still clasped her wrist, gave her a little tug. “Let’s talk about it in the car. I’m parked one street over and it’ll only take a second to get there.”

She dug her heels in stubbornly. “Did you see someone? Garibaldi?”

“I didn’t.”

“But someone else did?”

“A doctor saw you. Counted you in with the rest of the patients.”

“That’s bad?”

“Not specifically. But it means anyone could’ve seen you. C’mon.” He dragged his fingers down, threading them through hers.

Heat jumped from the points where their skin met, startling her enough that she didn’t resist when he pulled her along this time. Her hand even tightened on his as they slipped out of their hiding place. And she couldn’t make it loosen. Thankfully, Anderson didn’t notice. Or at least didn’t comment as he led her away from the hospital.

“Why were you going back down in the crowd by the care center?” Nadine asked, trying to distract herself from how natural and reassuring it felt to be holding his hand. “The cops were already there.”

“Because I was looking for you.”

“But I was meeting you by the bushes.”

“You were supposed to wait by the bushes,” Anderson corrected.

“Didn’t you think I’d come b—” She cut herself off as she clued in. “You thought I ran off on you.”

“Is it much of a stretch?”

Nadine felt an odd warmth creep up her cheeks, and she silently scolded herself for blushing.

Aloud she said, “I told you I would stay.”

She could swear Anderson was eyeing the pink in her face as he lifted an eyebrow her way. “Pretty sure you gave your doctor the same impression before sneaking off in the dead of night.”

“Ha-ha.”

He stopped in front of a midsize pickup truck, and when he freed his fingers from Nadine’s to grab his keys from his pocket, she immediately experienced a pang at the loss of contact. It was accompanied by an urge to reach out and grab his hand again. She actually had to fight to shake off the need to do it, and she was suddenly glad that her cheeks were already heated. At least it provided a good cover for the new embarrassment tickling at her now. And the embarrassment only intensified as Anderson took a chivalrous moment to open the passenger-side door for her before he moved to get in himself.

“You don’t have to do stuff like that,” she said.

Anderson frowned as he turned the key in the ignition. “Like what?”

“Opening the door.”

“You don’t want me to be polite?”

“You can be polite without being so nice.”

He pulled the truck out onto the road. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

Nadine sighed. “I know you’d rather be working the case. You just told me as much a few minutes ago.”

“I am working the case. You’re my connection to Jesse Garibaldi.”

For some reason, the statement pricked at her. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” he said, “I’m not sure I do.”

“You don’t have to pretend that I’m not an inconvenience by being thoughtful.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might just be thoughtful?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Why would you be thoughtful toward me? I’m disrupting your investigation.”

“You don’t think all people need thoughtfulness, you know...just because?”

“That’s not what—Ugh.”

“Ugh?” His mouth twitched.

“I’m not saying this because I don’t think people deserve respect in a general sense.”

His tiny smile slipped away completely. “You think that you don’t deserve respect?”

“No. I mean yes. Of course I deserve respect.”

“Just not from me?”

She couldn’t help but glare at him. “You are seriously a pain in the—”

“Hold on. I thought I was too nice.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

His mouth quirked up again. “I’ll work on that.”

Fighting a huff—she already felt enough like a petulant teenager—Nadine focused her gaze out the windshield. But as she saw where they were, she realized they were going in the wrong direction.

“You’ve gone past the turnoff for my place,” she said.

“We’re not going to your place. If Garibaldi’s feeling bold enough to come after you at the care facility, I don’t think he’d hesitate to send someone to your home, too.”

In her need to tell Anderson to stop being so nice, the immediate threat had slipped to the back of her mind. Now she wondered how that was even possible.

“Is that what you were saying before?” she asked. “About someone else seeing Garibaldi?”

Anderson’s hands tightened in the wheel. “A patient reported a masked man in the hall on the third floor.”

“My floor.”

“’Fraid so. Not much of a consolation, but I doubt it was the man himself. More likely one of his thugs.”

“The same person in the car?”

“Or working with him.”

She made herself straighten her shoulders and speak in a strong voice. “So what’s the plan, then?”

“I’ve got a room at the Whispering Woods Lodge. We’ll go there, I’ll contact my partners and we’ll decide from there what to do.”

“You know that Garibaldi owns the lodge, right?”

“I do.”

“So you don’t think going there might be a little counterproductive?”

“That’s the whole point. He won’t be looking under his own nose.”

Nadine shook her head. “But if he’s looking for you now, too, he’ll probably figure out pretty quickly that we’re there.”

“My room’s booked under a pseudonym, and there’s a conference of some kind at the hotel, so plenty of random names on the books.”

“Were you also wearing a disguise when you checked in? Because if Garibaldi was casing the hospital, his guys’ll know what you look like and it won’t matter what name you used or how many people are staying there.”

“Trust me,” he said. “I’ve covered my bases.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just that I’ve got a valid excuse for hanging around.”

“What does that—You know what? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

“Probably not.”

But something about the way he said it doubled her curiosity. She couldn’t quite pinpoint his tone. A little amused and a little...something...that made her want to blush again for no good reason. And of course the idea of blushing made her feel prickly yet again.

Fighting yet another sigh, she looked down at her hands. She could swear that just a short time ago, she’d been a happy, well-adjusted person. A favorite teacher. Now she was on edge, pretty much 24/7. It almost made her pity the big, blond cop who sat beside her now. He was definitely not receiving the best of her.

Why does it even matter whether or not he gets nice me or not-so-nice me? I’m his case. He just said so.

But for some reason it did matter. Especially now that she’d thought consciously about it.

She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out why she suddenly cared what he thought. He looked the same as he had for the last week. Blond hair, a little too long and several shades darker than her own. Strong jaw, dusted with a few days’ worth of scruff. He had nice, even features. The kind that were deceptively ordinary. But Nadine knew better. The moment he turned on that warm, genuine smile and flashed those drown-in-me eyes of his, he became anything but ordinary.

“Oh!” The word popped out before she could stop it—an exclamation of understanding.

The eyes in question flicked her way. “You all right?”

She forced herself to nod. “Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!” she snapped.

“Whoa.” He shook his head and turned his focus to the road, then added in a mutter, “Just checking.”

She bit back an urge to apologize. At least her short temper served a purpose at that moment. It was the perfect cover for the realization she’d just made. Whether she liked it or not, the reason she cared what her wannabe bodyguard thought about her was the fact that she found him stupidly attractive.

* * *

Anderson kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. He sensed some kind of internal struggle going on with the pretty little schoolteacher.

Oh, she’s pretty now, huh?

He acknowledged the silent, self-directed question with a mental wave of his hand. Yeah, she was pretty. It wasn’t really much of a debate. Just because he hadn’t taken the time to think about it much before now didn’t make it untrue.

Her petite, almost waiflike frame contrasted sharply with the fierceness in her eyes in a way Anderson liked. Her dramatic hairstyle hinted at the fact that under her sharp edges, she might actually have a fun side. He couldn’t deny being curious about it.

And her scar...

He had to hold his head rigid to keep from swiveling to look at it. Of all her features, maybe he liked the nongenetic one best. The puckered marking that sliced across her jawline screamed of a will to survive. Nadine Stuart had been through literal fire and come out alive. Prickly or not, that one thing made her a hell of a lot more than pretty in Anderson’s eyes. It infused him with sympathy, too.

A decade earlier, she probably thought she’d been through the worst. Then came the last couple of weeks. Witnessing her brother get shot. Being dragged into the Garibaldi investigation. Dragged in again, if he was being accurate. Now this. She was stuck under his watchful eye against her will.

“I’ll only keep you here as long as I have to,” he said as he flicked on his turn signal and guided the truck onto the last road before the turnoff that led to the lodge.

Her head jerked his way, and for a second, he actually saw a bit of softness in her chocolate-colored stare. Then she spoke, and her fierceness overtook her features.

“Don’t start worrying about my comfort now.”

He fought yet another stab of impatience. “I’m irritatingly nice. I can’t help but worry about it.”

A spot of color darkened each of her cheeks. “I thought you were working on that.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

“But in the meantime...” He trailed off, unsure what he wanted to suggest.

“In the meantime, what?” she pushed.

Impulsively, he veered off the road, put the truck into Park under the cover of a decent-sized patch of bushes and turned to face her. “I dunno. But we’re stuck together for the time being, Nadine. So we need to do something that’s going to make the bit of time we have to spend together less...confrontational.”

He expected her to argue. To point out the relatively nice way he put things. Instead, she nodded slowly.

“Okay,” she said. “What do you suggest?”

“Let’s start over.”

“Start over?”

“Pretend that we’re meeting for the first time and that it’s because we want to.”

“Are you sure that’s—”

“Worth a shot? Yes.”

She sighed. “Fine. Introduce yourself.”

He felt a smile building. “I’m Anderson Somers. Thirty years old. Single. I’ve been a full-fledged detective with the Freemont City PD for about four years. Before that, I was a patrolman.”

“Do you like being a detective?”

“Most of the time,” he said honestly.

“Really? Only most of the time?”

“That surprises you?”

“I just kind of assumed that all cops were gung ho or whatever. And it also surprises me that you’d be honest about it.”

“One of those nice-guy faults.”

“Must make it harder to be a cop.”

“Being honest?” He felt his mouth tip up even more. “Shouldn’t that make me a better cop?”

“Don’t you sometimes have to manipulate people?” she wanted to know.

“I prefer not to.”

“And it works not to?”

“I think I’m pretty damned good at it.”

“So then...when don’t you like it?”

“I didn’t say I don’t like it.”

“You said you like it most of the time. That means that sometimes you don’t.”

“Ha. Busted. The truth is, I really like the investigative end of things. It always fascinated me as a kid, to see how my dad got from point A to point B. But if I’m being really honest, until my dad was killed, I always thought I’d take after my uncle and become a firefighter.”

Sympathy softened her voice as she asked, “Why didn’t you?”

“You already know my story.”

She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t. We just met, remember?”

“Right. I forgot.”

“So. Tell me.”

“Not gonna let it go?”

“No.” She said it softly enough that he thought she might, if he pressed it.

He decided not to. She did know already anyway—she’d heard it from his partner, Brayden, during their previous run-in with Jesse Garibaldi—and sometimes it just felt good to say things aloud.

“Fifteen years ago, my father—a detective like me—was killed. Murdered via pipe bomb. Along with two other men. Those men’s sons, myself included, vowed to find out why, and we vowed to do it by the book.”

He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he felt Nadine’s warm grip on his forearm. “So you became a cop.”

He lifted his lids. “I did. We did.”

“What else?”

“Does there need to be more?” It wasn’t a bitter question, just a serious one.

“I guess there doesn’t have to be,” she conceded. “You’ve already said a lot for having just met me.”

“That’s way truer than you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“The guys and I don’t typically share any of that info. Only a handful of people know about the case.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I inspire that kind of trust after knowing each other for five minutes.” She flashed him a smile that, if he didn’t know better, Anderson might’ve called saucy.

He fought a chuckle at the unexpected expression. “All right. It’s your turn.”

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Okay. Well. I’m Nadine Elise Stuart. Twenty-six. I like dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“Yes. And sunsets.”

“Okay...”

“Oh. And long walks on the beach, and—”

He cut her off with a groan. “Really?”

She blinked innocently at him. “What?”

“That’s the angle you’re going to take?”

“We just met. So I don’t want to give away too much too soon.”

The chuckle wouldn’t stay down this time. Anderson let it take over, rolling through his chest, up his throat, then out into the truck. It felt good. And it felt even better when Nadine joined in, her musical laugh mixing pleasantly with his, making it easy to forget the pressing issues at hand. As his mirth tapered off, though, his gaze slipped out the window just in time to catch sight of a navy sedan as it whipped by. Maybe it was the same one that had tried to run her down, maybe not. Either way, it was a sobering reminder that in spite of the light conversation, they were far from safe.

Chapter 4

The slightly buoyant feeling in Nadine’s chest faded as they neared Whispering Woods Lodge. It was nestled into a man-made valley, its peaked, full log roof visible from the top of the very long block that led down to its enormous outdoor parking lot. And, usually, just that first glimpse of the rustically styled hotel made her want to go inside. Or it always had when she was a kid, anyway. She remembered how quickly it had been built. How everyone in town heralded Jesse Garibaldi as some kind of miracle worker. The man was still new in town then, his investments in tourism and infrastructure still a novelty. At ten years old, the awe of the town reinforced what Nadine already believed. Garibaldi’s power was endless. Then, it had impressed her. Now, it made her shiver.

“You all right?” Anderson’s warm voice cut through her worry.

“I’m okay,” she replied. “Just thinking about when this place opened fifteen years ago. My dad worked for Garibaldi, so we got a front-row seat. It was amazing. Inspiring and hopeful and...” She shrugged. “I was ten. So it was pretty cool.”

“It’s still pretty cool.”

“Except knowing what I do about Garibaldi makes it harder to enjoy it. Like it’s got a taint. Does that sound funny?”

Anderson’s mouth set into a line before he answered. “The man’s a murderer, Nadine. Everything he touches—or has touched—does have a taint.”

Does that include me?

The question sprang to mind unexpectedly, and she wasn’t able to dismiss it as easily as it had come. After all, Garibaldi had touched her life. He’d paid for her and her mother’s move from Whispering Woods to Freemont. He’d covered her many hospital expenses and the costs of her father’s funeral. Then he’d paid for her entire education. If the man’s taint extended to people, she was probably at the top of the list.

She opened her mouth—maybe to say something about it, maybe not, she wasn’t sure—but stopped as she realized Anderson had bypassed the main lot and was headed for the underground one.

“I don’t think we can park in there,” she said. “Staff and VIP guests only. Unless they’ve changed that.”

He turned a rueful smile her way. “Open the glove box.”

She did as he said, and when she flicked down the door, a laminated parking pass fell straight into her hands.

“Is it fake?”

“No.”

Anderson lifted up the pass and placed it on the windshield, then offered the attendant in the parking booth a wave as they drove through.

“See?” he said. “Perfectly legitimate.”

“Well, then...which one are you?” she asked.

“Which one?”

“Staff? Or suite?”

“Not staff,” he replied, his voice matching his still-rueful expression.

“You’re in a suite?”

“Trust me,” Anderson said as he pulled into a spot, “I didn’t book it that way. It was an accident.”

“Seriously? How does that happen accidentally?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her response, and she realized she’d been expecting him to say that he’d acquired the pass through some twisty, undercover police deception.

“I guess they were overbooked,” Anderson said. “C’mon.”

Nadine frowned as she let herself out of the truck. It was well-known that as the only real hotel in Whispering Woods, the lodge offered a good-sized chunk of reasonably priced rooms and an even bigger set of moderately priced ones. But it was just as well-known that their block of suites were luxuriously equipped and had a cost to match that luxury. She had a hard time believing that the lodge would just give him an upgrade. Especially by accident.

“What did you tell them?” she asked.

“Tell who?” he replied innocently, moving around to her side of the truck and gesturing for her to start walking.

She planted her feet and narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Stop that. Why did they give you an upgrade, Anderson?”

He sighed and ran a hand over his shaggy locks. “Look. It just kind of happened.”

“What did?”

“I was checking in, and the girl behind the counter was friendly. Chatty. You know those dolls where you pull a string to make them talk?”

“Yes.”

“She was like that. Only her string got stuck and she just kept going.”

Nadine fought a laugh. “That’s not very nice.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It was just a very full five minutes. She told me all about her life and the guy she was marrying. Her high school sweetheart. And she wanted to hear about me. So I told her my cover story, which is that I’m here visiting a friend at the care center.”

“Me.”

“Yes.”

“What does that have to do with the room?”

“When I said friend, the girl at the counter took that to mean something more.”

“And you didn’t correct her?”

“It didn’t seem important. And actually...”

“Actually what?”

“Let’s get to the elevator first.”

Nadine started to argue, then caught the obvious embarrassment on his face and relented temporarily. “Fine.”

“We should take the service elevator. We’ll run into fewer people, and if someone from the staff questions us, we’ll plead error.”

“Are we really that conspicuous?”

“I’m not.” He cast a pointed look toward her legs.

She looked down and spotted her hospital-issue pajama pants. “Oh.”

“I did offer to get you some clothes a few days ago.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Let’s go.”

She let him lead her across the cement. They moved past a set of slick faux-wood doors that led to the main elevators, then around a corner and up to another, far more utilitarian setup—plain gray metal. Anderson tugged on the handle, then stepped back to allow her to pass through first.

“What, no further criticism of my politeness?” he joked as she stepped across the threshold.

“I’ve temporarily suspended my aversion to it.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Don’t be. I might change my mind once I hear what you have to say about what you told the girl at the front desk.”

His expression turned sheepish, and he didn’t speak until they were in the elevator and on the way up.

“Once the check-in girl had put the idea out there,” he said, “it seemed like a better option. Being your boyfriend instead of your friend gave me a better excuse for my vigil outside your room.”

Nadine had to push off yet another need to blush and instead asked, “But if you were my boyfriend, why would you be staying at the lodge in the first place? Why wouldn’t you stay at my place?”

Anderson cleared his throat. “Exactly what she wanted to know.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“The first thing that came to mind. That you and I had a fight.”

“About what?”

“You want to know what our fictional fight was about?”

“I think I have a right to know.”

“What makes you even think I told the check-in girl what it was about?”

“Because you got a suite, and you didn’t get it just because you lied about being my boyfriend. And speaking of lying...” Nadine crossed her arms. “I thought you were Mr. Honesty.”

“Mr. Nice Guy,” he corrected. “And aside from the fake name—which was a necessity—and the fake fight—which was a knee-jerk-reaction kind of excuse—the girl filled in the rest on her own. I mentioned she was chatty, didn’t I?”

She rolled her eyes. “And what did she fill in?”

“That I was getting ready to propose, and you ran off to Whispering Woods to avoid me.”

“Well, that’s a hell of a leap.”

Anderson chuckled. “You have no idea. One second I was single guy, checking into a hotel for a few days, and the next, I was chasing after a woman who refused to marry me.”

“I’m afraid to ask how that led to the suite,” she said.

“Well. When you see which suite it is, you might be able to fill in a few things on your own.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I’m sure.”

The elevator pinged then and came to a smooth stop. But as the doors slid open and Anderson pressed an arm against one of them so she could go by, Nadine had a sudden urge to run. To shove the thick-shouldered man aside and run straight down the hall without looking back. And it wasn’t fear that fueled the need. It wasn’t even some unspecific kind of apprehension. It was anticipation. An unexpected tingle that licked warmly up her feet and hands, moved inward, then settled somewhere in her gut. It was a heady feeling. Dangerous. Unexpected. And directly related to her attraction to Anderson and the fact that she was about to be very, very alone with him.

Well, that...and the gold-plated sign that hung on the wall just in view.

Honeymoon Suite.

And it got worse. As Nadine forced her feet to move her out into the hall, a girl who couldn’t be more than twenty or so bounced into sight, her ponytail wagging and eyes sparkling at the two of them. Even without an introduction, there was no doubt about who she was—the chatty storyteller who was trying to seal Nadine and Anderson into a fake engagement.

* * *

Anderson stifled a groan. In his mind, it was already awkward enough that he’d been forced to confess to having gone along with the assumptions made by the check-in girl. Now he was going to have to own it, too. Taking a breath, he forced a smile onto his face. Then he slung his arm over Nadine’s shoulders as casually as he could manage and bent a little to whisper, “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“It worked!” the check-in girl squealed as she approached. “I told you it would!”

“You sure did,” Anderson agreed.

She turned her eyes to Nadine. “How did he do it? What part convinced you? Tell me the room had something to do with it! It was the room, wasn’t it? Wait—why aren’t you wearing the ring?”

“The ring?” Nadine repeated, her voice almost faint.

“You don’t have it? It’s still stuck down that sink?” Her eyes flicked between them. “Wait. You haven’t even asked her yet, have you? Oh! I let the cat out of the bag?”

“Little bit,” Anderson managed to say.

The girl’s smile only faltered for a second. “Well. It’s a good thing I came up to change the flowers in the nook. Ask her now.”

“Now?”

“She’s obviously not going to say no. Otherwise she wouldn’t have come to the suite. Or the hotel at all. Besides that, I’m the perfect witness. Not so much of a crowd that she feels like she has to say yes, but the perfect person to capture the moment if she says yes. Give me your phone.”

“My phone?”

“How else am I going to record it for you?”

Anderson eased away from Nadine, dug the slim device from his pocket and handed it over. The girl’s grin just about split her face.

“Okay,” she said. “Don’t forget to get down on one knee. You want it to be good.”

Anderson shrugged helplessly at Nadine. Her eyes were wide, her bottom lip tugged in. She looked nervous bordering on terrified, and Anderson wondered how that was going to translate in the recording.

He leaned toward her ear again. “You’re going to have to fake it a little better than that, honey. Even Little Miss Chatterbox won’t be fooled if you look like I’m trying to push you off a cliff.”

Her lips turned up in an almost passable smile. “I might be fighting an urge to strangle you right now.”

“Just a few moments and one proposal and you can strangle away.” He winked, then dropped to his knee and shot a genuine smile up at her. “Nadine Elise Stuart. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve sparked something special in me. I can honestly say you know more about me than most people. I feel like it only took five minutes to get to that point. Literally. So between that and the fact I’ve never seen anyone look quite so sexy in a pair of hospital pajamas, I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of marrying me?”

Nadine’s mouth worked silently for a second. Her gaze was a little soft, a little amused and a little something else that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Finally, she nodded, and Anderson tipped his head toward the check-in girl.

“Good enough?” he asked.

She lowered the camera phone. “Close.”

“Close?”

“You need the kiss.”

Crap.

“We’re not really into PDAs,” he said.

The girl shook her head. “This isn’t public. This is just the two of you, plus your own personal videographer. Posterity.”

“Still not really—”

“It’s fine.” Nadine’s hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked up again. “What?”

“It’s fine,” she repeated.

Anderson pushed to his feet. It was hard to stop his gaze from flicking down to her lips before shifting up to her eyes. Although it hadn’t been directly on his mind before, to say he had zero interest in kissing her—now that it had been put in his head—would be a lie. But to say that he wanted to force her into doing it was an even bigger untruth. In fact, the idea made his gut twist and ache.

“Nadine?” His voice came out a little hoarse.

She smiled, and he couldn’t help but note that now her eyes moved briefly to his lips. “Let’s just not make it something we wouldn’t want our kids to see, okay?”

“All right.”

He stepped forward, then stopped just far enough away that they weren’t touching. He started to tell her he wouldn’t do it—couldn’t under the circumstances—but one of her hands came up to his cheek, stilling his mouth. Nadine’s palm was warm on his skin. It sent a shock of heat straight through him, and articulate thought flew away as she used her fingers to guide his face down toward hers. Instinct kicked in quickly. Especially when Nadine pressed up to her toes, stumbled a little and bumped up against him. Then his hands came up automatically to steady her. To pull her body flush to his.

“Ready?” she breathed.

He tried to say that he was, but her face tipped up then, and her lips grazed his, and words were no longer an option. Action, on the other hand...that was a different story.

Anderson lifted one of his hands up and placed it on the small of Nadine’s back. The other he brought to the back of her neck in a caress. Her hair brushed his knuckles, and as short as it was cut, it was still softer than silk. Her mouth was softer still. Warm, too, and not just yielding. Eager and willing. Her lips pressed to his firmly, then pulled away, then pressed again. She tasted so good—felt so good—that he wanted to keep it going. True regret filled him when the check-in girl’s voice interrupted the kiss.

“That’s perfect!” she crowed. “And I think I got it all.”

Anderson dragged his eyes open and stared down into Nadine’s chocolate gaze for another second before releasing her. As heavy as her lids looked, she didn’t blink. It was impossible to look away, and he couldn’t quite resist the need to drag his thumb over her lower lip.

“Nothing the kids wouldn’t want to see,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“All right!” The ponytailed girl pushed in between them, shoving the phone at Anderson. “Promise her you’ll get her a proper ring. No. Not just a proper one. The perfect one. To go with the perfect proposal and the perfect kiss. Did you hear that? He’s going to get you something absolutely perfect.”

“I heard it,” Nadine said.

Anderson couldn’t help but shoot her a surprised look. “You did?”

“Didn’t you?” She lifted an eyebrow, undisguised mirth evident in her eyes.

“I guess I did.”

“Oh, my gosh!” interjected the girl. “I can’t wait to see it! But you better get going because those strawberries and champagne you just have to order will be up soon.”

Then she flounced off in the other direction. Anderson shook his head in disbelief, then dragged his wallet out to free his key card, apologizing as he opened the door to the suite.

“That was...interesting. I’m sorry if—” He cut himself off as Nadine pushed by him, bent over and let out a strangled gasp, then collapsed to the edge of the couch.

He took a step closer, but she waved him off. Her shoulders shook, and for a second Anderson thought she was crying. He moved closer again, concern flowing in. When she lifted her head, though, he saw that tears weren’t the case at all. She was laughing.

He frowned. “What’s funny?”

She gasped out a sentence between laughs. “That—girl’s—poor—fiancé.”

“What?”

“She must just steamroll him. Can you imagine? Do you think he even meant to start dating her, let alone get engaged to her?”

He felt his lips twitch; it was good to see Nadine so relaxed. “Hard to say.”

“Or maybe he’s just like she is. Scripting his life aloud like that, too. I wonder what happens if their stories conflict?”

“God knows.” He stepped past the couch and sank into the enormous chair on the other side of coffee table. “I really am sorry we had to go through all that.”

“Which part?” she replied. “The running, the sneaking, the lying...or the kissing?”

“Yep.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

“I know.”

Nadine laughed again and leaned back, her gaze sweeping over the room. “It really is pretty swanky. Everything I imagined as a kid. We were supposed to take a tour not long after Whispering Woods opened, but I got the flu, and we never found the time to reschedule. I guess I never had a reason to come back. You don’t really visit hotels in your own town, do you?”

“No, not so much.”

“I used to dream about coming in here, though.” Her eyes flicked around again. “I’m not sure if I wish I’d seen it before, or if I’m glad I’m seeing it like this for the first time.”

Anderson surveyed the space himself. Aside from tossing his suitcase to the ground when he’d first arrived, he hadn’t spent much time inside at all. He really hadn’t taken the time to look around at all. Now he could see that it was tastefully decorated with boldly romantic coloring. Not rustically styled like the exterior of the lodge. Instead, the suite was...soft. Cream walls and cream carpet with pops of burgundy that added a touch of sexiness. He wondered absently what the bedroom looked like. Then his eye caught Nadine, and the wondering became a little less absent.

He cleared his throat and made himself ask in a teasing voice, “The honeymoon suite, specifically?”

Nadine shot him a dirty look. “No. Being a bride wasn’t high on my list of fantasies.”

“Not one of those little girls, huh?”

“My dad’s driving job made him keep weird hours. His secret, second family took him away even more.” She made a face and then went on. “When I was little, I thought all fathers and husbands spent that much time apart from their families. I didn’t like it much and didn’t want a life like that. But then I found out the truth, and it was even worse, so... Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear all that.”

Anderson shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I like to listen to stories about other people’s abnormal upbringings. They make my own seem that much saner.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m serious. My parents were high school sweethearts who dropped out of school when they found out they were expecting me. They used to do what they called high-five parenting. My dad would work all night at the gas station while my mom and I slept. Then he’d come home, and she’d go to work at the grocery store. We moved around a lot because they could rarely keep up with rent.”

Nadine winced. “That must’ve been hard for you. And them.”

Out of habit, he shrugged off the sympathy. “It was just life. It wasn’t until I started school that I realized ramen noodles and frozen vegetables and boxed cereal weren’t the only things on the menu. A weird little light bulb went off in my five-year-old brain. I kept my mouth shut about it until third grade. Then I vividly remember coming home and telling my mom about some of the things the kids brought in their lunch boxes and how I wanted them. I’d worked out a whole plan on how unfair it was that they made me so different. She cried. That same night, we moved again. This time from our apartment to my grandparents’ place. I thought it was my fault for wanting some packaged fruit snacks.”

“But it wasn’t. Of course.”

“No.”

Anderson looked down at his hands, recalling the confusion and misguided guilt. It wasn’t a memory he normally shared. Or one he even liked to think about. He got the feeling, though, that it was doing Nadine good to hear it. Her face was open and interested, her body leaning forward. She’d been through a hell of a lot over the last little while. Anderson might not have been there when her brother was killed, but he was more than happy to try to make things a little easier for her now.

And it feels good to get it off my chest, too, he admitted to himself.

That was a surprise. One he didn’t want to reason through right that second. Or even have time to think about. He had a case to concern himself with. A bad guy he needed to keep away from Nadine, a worse guy he needed to connect their current predicament to and fifteen years’ worth of justice to serve out.

He brought his gaze up again with the intention of saying as much. But his mouth had different ideas.

“My mom never told me directly,” he said, “but there were lots of whispers, and I heard them all. The day I came home and complained was the same day my dad left her a Dear John letter.”

“Your dad left the two of you behind?”

“For about six months. My grandparents only took us in on the condition that my mom never have contact with him again. I learned that from the whispers, too. They hated him. Thought he wasn’t good enough for her. So they weren’t very happy when he turned up on their doorstep.”

“But your mom took him back, just like that?”

Anderson laughed. “Not even close. It took my dad a month just to get her to talk to him again. He showed up every morning with a cup of coffee and a single rose.”

“Persistent,” Nadine stated.

“And apologetic. A lot.”

“So what was his excuse for leaving in the first place?”

“Turns out his opinion of himself coincided with the one my grandparents had.”

“He thought you and your mom would be better off without him.”

“Exactly. But it turned out he was more selfish than he thought.”

Nadine’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

Anderson smiled. “He hated being away from us more than he wanted to make things better for us, apparently. So he came up with a plan—become a cop.”

“I guess it would be hard for your grandparents to argue with that.”

“Yep. My mom, too. She loved him, and when he told her he’d enrolled in the training program already...”

“What? She was powerless to say no?” Her smile softened the question.

He met her eyes. “Isn’t that what true love is all about?”

“Powerlessness?”

“Yep.”

“I hope not.”

“You sure about that?”

“Why would anyone want to be powerless to say no?”

He leaned forward. “Because it’s two sides of the same coin when you’re really in love. All powerful and completely powerless at the same time.”

“Do you know that firsthand?”

Nadine’s face didn’t change as she spoke, but the air in the room was another story. It shifted. Warmed. And Anderson couldn’t help but wonder if the question held more meaning than a simple addition to the conversation.

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