Cole Bentler’s mission is to serve and protect...

A Bachelor Bodyguards romance

Former marine Cole Bentler’s new assignment: protect the recently widowed love of his life! Shawna Rolfe’s never been far from Cole’s thoughts, but now it’s up to him to ensure her safety—and guard her young daughter. A daughter whose eyes somehow look just like his... Once his secret daughter’s identity is exposed, can Cole forgive Shawna before the killer has them both trapped?

Ever since LISA CHILDS read her first romance novel (a Mills & Boon story, of course) at age eleven, all she wanted was to be a romance writer. With over forty novels published with Mills & Boon, Lisa is living her dream. She is an award-winning, bestselling romance author. Lisa loves to hear from readers, who can contact her on Facebook, through her website, lisachilds.com, or her snail-mail address, PO Box 139, Marne, MI 49435.

Also by Lisa Childs

Bachelor Bodyguards

His Christmas Assignment

Bodyguard Daddy

Bodyguard’s Baby Surprise

Beauty and the Bodyguard

Nanny Bodyguard

Single Mom’s Bodyguard

In the Bodyguard’s Arms

Soldier Bodyguard

The Coltons of Red Ridge

Colton’s Cinderella Bride

Top Secret Deliveries

The Bounty Hunter’s Baby Surprise

The Coltons of Shadow Creek

The Colton Marine

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Soldier Bodyguard

Lisa Childs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07942-6

SOLDIER BODYGUARD

© 2018 Lisa Childs

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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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Are you okay?”

Shawna gave him a faint nod, as if she wasn’t quite certain herself.

He looked closer. As well as the bruising on her throat from the earlier attempt on her life, he noticed the cuts on her knees and hands. “You’re hurt,” he said.

She turned over her hands and glanced down at her dirty, bloodied palms. “I fell...”

He suppressed a shudder at how close the killer must have come to catching her, to killing her. Whoever the hell it was, he’d gotten too close—too many times. Despite himself, Cole offered the promise she’d sought earlier. “I will protect you,” he vowed.

She released a shaky little breath of relief, but then she stared up at him and asked, “Are you sure you want to?”

“It’s my job,” he reminded her. But she was a hell of a lot more than that to him. She was everything. She had always been...

Everything.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for picking up the latest installment, Soldier Bodyguard, in my Bachelor Bodyguards series! The Payne Protection Agency is at it again—using the family business to protect family. If you’ve read the previous books in the series and thought matriarch Penny Payne-Lynch was a meddling matchmaker, wait until you meet Cole Bentler’s grandfather Xavier Bentler. Grampa X has a couple of reasons for hiring the Payne Protection Agency. One is because he wants to bring his grandson Cole back home to his estranged family and to Cole’s high school sweetheart. The second is because someone can’t wait for the feisty eighty-six-year-old to die of natural causes.

I modeled Grampa X after my father, who introduces himself to everyone he meets as Grampa Jack. At ninety, he is even more independent and feistier than Xavier Bentler. His car engine never cools off because he goes from restaurant to restaurant meeting up with family and friends—mostly lady friends. Like Grampa X, he is independent and determined and also has a heart of gold. I hope you enjoy meeting Grampa X in the pages of Soldier Bodyguard and finding out if he can reunite his family, survive the attempts on his life and play matchmaker for Cole.

Happy reading!

Lisa Childs

With love and gratitude for my biggest fan and self-appointed publicist, my ninety-year-old dad, Jack Childs aka Grampa Jack. Thank you for promoting my books with everyone you meet and thank you for setting an example in how to live life to the fullest!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

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

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Crazy like a fox. Cooper Payne had never understood that phrase until now. He stared across his desk at Xavier Bentler. This wasn’t Cooper’s first experience with an interfering grandfather; his wife’s guardian/grandfather had been a control freak who had manipulated his granddaughters even from beyond the grave.

“I can’t lie to one of my employees,” he told the elderly man.

Xavier Bentler was eighty-six years old, but he looked like he was in his sixties. Cooper couldn’t believe that he’d had a heart attack a few months ago. Had he really had one? Or just how manipulative was the old man? The heart attack had compelled Cooper’s friend and employee, Cole Bentler, to fly home for the first time in years—although he hadn’t been gone very long.

Was this assignment just another ploy for Xavier to get his grandson Cole home to California again?

“I’m not asking you to lie to him,” Xavier said with a cagey grin. “Maybe you can just withhold some information so that he’ll accept the job.”

Cooper shook his head and ran his hand over his military-short black hair. He was not going to do that again. The last time he’d sent off one of his bodyguards without briefing him fully on the assignment he had nearly lost him—for good. It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take again, especially as all the bodyguards who worked for Cooper’s franchise of the Payne Protection Agency were his friends and—in the case of Nikki Payne—family.

Hell, after what he’d gone through with his friends, who had all served in the same Marine Corps unit that he had, they were family, too.

“I can’t do that,” Cooper said. He wouldn’t betray a friend...again.

Of course last time it had been more of a joke. But there had been nothing funny about nearly losing Jordan “Manny” Mannes. And this time the danger was even greater.

“You said that a man already died,” Cooper reminded the older man.

Xavier Bentler uttered a weary-sounding sigh. “That was most unfortunate. But what’s more unfortunate is that his won’t be the last death. I am certain that someone else is going to die.”

And Cooper was afraid that person would be his friend if he assigned this job to Cole. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the old man, suspicious of how he could be so certain someone else was going to die. He doubted the guy had what Cooper’s mother did—her uncanny ability to just know that something was going to happen. Everybody had pretty much envied that ability until now. At least Cooper didn’t envy it since he sometimes possessed the ability himself.

Like now...

“Cole can prevent that murder, though,” Xavier Bentler continued, “if he protects her.”

Cooper had that feeling again—a bad feeling—that he knew who that person was. But still he had to ask, “Shawna?”

The older man nodded and grinned, obviously delighted that Cooper knew who she was. But that was not a good thing. He also knew what she’d already put Cole through. If she died...

Cole would be devastated, no matter what he felt for her yet.

“So you understand,” Xavier said, as if he’d successfully argued his case, even though the old guy was a businessman, not a lawyer. “And you will make Cole take this assignment.”

Cooper sighed before bobbing his head in a reluctant nod of acquiescence. He did understand that if something happened to Shawna, no matter how badly she’d hurt him, Cole would never forgive himself. Even if Cole didn’t want to personally protect her, Cooper had to make sure that nothing happened to her. He just hoped that he wouldn’t lose his friend. Either Cole would refuse to take the job and resign from the Payne Protection Agency. Or he would accept the assignment and...

Cole would be the next person to lose his life.

Seeing Shawna Rolfe like this, dressed all in black with tears streaming down her face, was why Cole had ended their engagement. He’d worried that one day she would wind up mourning him like this. Instead she was mourning another man, the one who had become her husband. There was a hollow feeling in Cole’s chest as if he’d lost something, as well.

But he had never had it, not for real. If Shawna had ever loved him, she wouldn’t have fallen so quickly for someone else. She wouldn’t have let another man put a ring on her finger within months of taking off Cole’s. And that hadn’t been just another engagement ring. It had been the wedding band that she still wore. The yellow gold reflected the sunshine glinting through the stained-glass windows of the church as she lifted her hand to wipe away the tears streaking from beneath her dark glasses. She didn’t need the glasses inside the church, so she was probably using them to hide her swollen eyes. But they couldn’t hide the fact that she’d been crying and still was.

And that hollowness inside Cole turned to an intense ache. He had never been able to handle Shawna’s tears, even when they were just kids in elementary school. He had always beaten up the boys who’d made her cry.

But he couldn’t beat up her husband. There was nothing left of him except the ashes in the urn sitting on a podium at the front of the church. There hadn’t been much left of him to cremate. A car bomb had blown him to bits.

Why? What reason would anyone have to murder a high school band teacher? Many of those students now played a medley of what they’d claimed had been their beloved teacher’s favorite songs. The arrangement was rough as several of them stopped to dissolve into sobs. If Cole believed what he was seeing, then he had to accept that everyone had loved Emery Little. But Cole had grown up knowing how deceptive appearances could be.

Grandfather didn’t think the car bomb had been meant for Little. He thought it had been meant for Shawna. It made no more sense to kill a nurse than it did to kill a band teacher. Just a short while ago—as he’d been getting pressed into this assignment—Cole had asked that question. “What reason would anyone have for wanting either of them dead?”

All the Payne Protection bodyguards had been gathered around the conference room table. Cooper had probably called them all in for reinforcements as he’d told Cole what his next assignment would be: protecting his former fiancée.

Thinking it was some sick joke like they sometimes played on each other, Cole had laughed.

But his laughter had evaporated when Cooper had informed him what had happened—and that Cole’s grandfather had flown from his estate in northern California out to River City, Michigan, to request their protection services.

“What reason?” Cole had asked again because none of it made sense. It must have been a horrible mistake. “What’s the murderer’s motive?”

“Jealousy,” Nikki Payne had offered, and her auburn brows had arched over her brown eyes as she’d studied him.

He was the only one who would have a reason to be jealous. But maybe Lars Ecklund, Nikki’s fiancé and Cole’s friend, hadn’t shared his history with her. So Cole told her, “I broke my engagement to Shawna a long time ago.”

They had been engaged a long time as well—first with the promise ring he’d given her when they’d graduated high school and then with the engagement ring he’d given her when he’d returned from boot camp. When he’d broken up with her six years ago, before his unit’s most dangerous mission, Shawna had tried to give back the engagement ring—a two-karat solitaire he’d bought after he’d inherited his father’s estate. But he hadn’t wanted it back. He hadn’t even thought he’d make it back from that mission. But he had—to find her already married to another man.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” he’d insisted.

But he was.

As he stood there and watched Shawna weep over another man, jealousy churned his stomach into an acidic pool of bile. No. Everyone hadn’t loved Emery Little. He hated the man, for making Shawna cry. Most of all he hated him for making Shawna love him, the way she hadn’t really loved Cole.

He shouldn’t have lied in that meeting—because his boss had used that lie against him. “If you have no reason for jealousy, then you have no reason to refuse this assignment,” Cooper had pointed out. “You better file a flight manifest. You need to fly out right away so you don’t miss the funeral.”

Now he wished like hell that he had. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t bear listening to everyone sing praises about Shawna’s husband while she wept over him. At least he wasn’t suffering alone. When Cooper had turned the tables on him, Cole had spun it back around on all of his friends.

“I’ll take it on one condition,” he’d said.

Much like his little sister, Cooper had arched one of his dark brows. Maybe he’d been silently reprimanding an employee for placing conditions on a job or maybe he’d just wanted to know what that condition was.

“You all work this assignment with me.” Maybe Cole had been counting on Cooper refusing because he’d never wanted his friends to know much about his old life. And he’d certainly never intended to show it to them.

“That doesn’t sound like the best use of Payne Protection resources,” Cooper had said.

And Cole had snorted. “Hasn’t the past taught us we’re the safest and the most efficient when we all work together?”

Cooper hadn’t been able to argue that. So they all stood in the pew with him: Cooper, Manny, Dane, Lars and Nikki. His grandfather hadn’t hired just one bodyguard; he’d hired all of Payne Protection. At least, all of Cooper’s franchise. There were still two others, run by Cooper’s brothers, Logan and Parker.

All of Cole’s coworkers and friends were here, so he wasn’t alone. And he sure as hell wasn’t the only one suffering. Not at this funeral...

Finally, it ended with Shawna filing out of that front pew to take her husband’s ashes. Still so slender and petite, she looked too delicate to lift the heavy urn, but she handled it easily if reluctantly. She still wore her hair long, the silky black tresses skimming down her back nearly to her thin waist. It flowed as she turned away from the front of the church. But she paused again at that first pew before starting down the aisle. And a little girl stepped out to take her hand.

Cole’s breath left his lungs. She had a child. He had no doubt the little girl was Shawna’s. With her long, silky black hair and pale skin, she looked exactly like Shawna had when he’d met her so many years ago on the elementary school playground, tears streaming down her face because some bully had knocked her down and she’d skinned her knees. This little girl’s knees weren’t skinned, but she was crying, her heart broken over the loss of her father.

Of course Cole should not have been shocked to see the child. He’d heard Shawna and her husband had started a family. That was why his visit home when his grandfather had his heart attack had been so brief. He hadn’t wanted to risk running into Shawna then.

He should have refused this assignment. But how?

He’d loved Shawna too much to risk her getting hurt—even because of him. So he couldn’t let anyone else hurt her either. What if the bomb had been meant for her? What if the person tried again and killed Shawna or her child?

He couldn’t risk it—just like his grandfather. The cagey old bastard had known. Xavier Bentler stepped out of the pew behind the little girl and started down the aisle with the child and her mother. Shawna was his nurse; she was supposed to be taking care of him. But it appeared to be the other way around, at least at the moment.

They continued down the aisle toward the pew in the back that Cole and his friends had slipped into when they’d arrived a few minutes late. Shawna was looking down, one arm wrapped around that urn while her other arm was stretched out, her fingers linked with her daughter’s small ones. He didn’t expect her to notice him.

But just as she neared the pew, she glanced up and even through her dark glasses, their eyes met and held. She paused for a moment—until the little girl tugged her forward and Cole’s grandfather put his hand on her back. Over her head, Xavier met Cole’s gaze and nodded. Then he guided Shawna out of the church to the long black car waiting at the bottom of the church steps.

They had already inspected that vehicle, making certain no explosive devices had been planted on it. But still Dane slipped out of the other side of the pew and down the stairs to join the driver in the front seat. Astin, the chauffeur, had worked for Grandfather for years. He could handle the driving, but he didn’t have the gun Dane carried.

Cole hoped Dane didn’t have to use it, not with the child in the car. At least the trip would be a short, and hopefully uneventful, one.

Even before the minister announced that Xavier Bentler had invited everyone back to his home for a memorial luncheon, Cole knew that was where he would be heading next. Home. Not that the monstrous mansion had ever really felt like home.

Cole glanced at his friends. Manny wouldn’t be surprised; he knew more than the others did about Cole’s life. But now everyone would know exactly how damn rich he was—so rich it was embarrassing. That was one of the reasons why he hated talking about himself or the past. But that wasn’t the only reason. It hurt too damn much when he thought of it because he always thought of her.

He was home.

And Cole Bentler looked even more handsome than he did every time she’d thought of him over the past six years. His hair was dark gold and his eyes such a deep blue. He seemed taller than she remembered him and much more muscular, but then some of her memories were of the boy Cole had been, not of the man he had become.

Just as she’d been warned, he had changed after joining the Marines. Not after boot camp. After boot camp, he’d come home and proposed to her. It was after all the missions, after leaving for months on end, that he had returned tense and distant and different.

It was easier to remember the sweet, sensitive boy with whom she’d fallen in love than the cold, unemotional man who’d broken her heart.

What in the world was he doing here? As Shawna settled into the back seat of the limousine and Xavier Bentler sat across from her, head down as if unwilling to meet her gaze, she knew. “You told him?”

That was where Xavier had gone. Some time yesterday, he had slipped away for several long hours. She hadn’t been too concerned at the time. She’d figured he’d sneaked away to play a round of golf and smoke the cigars she’d banned from the house. She should have known Cole’s grandfather had been up to something; he usually was.

And as usual he was completely unabashed at getting caught. He nodded.

But she was still surprised that Cole had showed up. Even after he’d heard about her husband’s funeral, she doubted he’d have any compulsion to attend it.

“I hired him to be your bodyguard,” he added.

And she gasped.

So did Maisy. “Why does Mommy need a bodyguard?” Then her blue eyes widened in realization and fear. “So nobody kills you like they killed...” Her voice cracked with sobs.

Shawna slid across the seat and wrapped her free arm around the child’s thin shoulders. Her heart broke every time she heard her daughter cry and saw her fear. Shawna had done her best to try to shield the five-year-old from all the news broadcasts. But even if Maisy hadn’t heard it from the media, she would have known about the car bomb. The explosion had woken her up.

Fighting to keep her voice calm and steady, she told Xavier, “I don’t need a bodyguard.” She glared at him, hoping he would take the hint.

“Yes, you do!” But it was Maisy who argued with her. “You need to make sure nobody tries to kill you, too!”

Shawna’s heart broke again at the terror in the child’s voice. She pulled her daughter closer and held her trembling body. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she assured her. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

Maisy’s head bobbed up and down in a quick nod. “I know,” she agreed. She fluttered her long black lashes and stared up at her with those deep blue eyes of hers and added, “Because Grampa X hired you a bodyguard.”

But the man he’d hired to protect her was the one who’d already hurt her more than anyone else ever had. Who would protect her from him?

Especially if he ever learned the truth...

Chapter 2

How could he protect someone when he couldn’t be in the same room with her? That wasn’t completely Cole’s fault, though. Shawna had yet to remain in any one area. Maybe it was just that she was moving from guest to guest, speaking softly with everyone as she accepted their condolences and expressed her own to them.

Or maybe, as he strongly suspected, she was trying to avoid him—because every time he entered a room, she left it.

And there were a lot of rooms in his grandfather’s house, so many that Cole had been able to do his best to avoid his family. They were all here, all still living in the French provincial mansion. Even his mother lived here with his stepfather. And of course his two uncles and their assorted offspring would never venture out on their own.

But he had had no idea how entwined their lives were with Shawna’s yet. He had broken up with her nearly six years ago, yet she seemed more a part of his family than he had ever been.

Of course that had been different when his father was alive. Then Cole had felt as if he’d belonged—at least with his father. Coleman Bentler Sr. had not lived here. Nor had he worked for Xavier, like his older brothers did. He’d made his own money and his own way in the world.

But when Dad had died...

To Cole, he had bequeathed all of his money and his family’s resentment. Cole could understand why his mother would have been angry. Tiffani and his father had never been happily married. In fact, she’d admitted to purposely getting pregnant to trap him into marriage. In the end, Coleman had gotten his revenge when he’d cut her out of his will along with a lot of other relatives who for some reason thought they were entitled to inherit.

No, these people who glared at Cole with such hatred and anger were not his family.

His unit was his true family. He’d been a fool to worry about what they’d think of his wealth. When they’d seen the house, not one of them had made a comment or even blinked in surprise. Money didn’t matter to this family of his. Manny, Cooper, Lars and Dane were like his brothers. The rest of the unit, the ones who were still enlisted, they were his extended family—the ones he didn’t get to see all that often but who were forever in his heart and thoughts.

Shawna had been forever in his heart and thoughts. He’d loved her so much that he had never wanted anything but happiness for her, even at the expense of his own. Had she been happy with Emery?

The guy had called him once and wanted to talk to Cole. But he had been about to leave for another mission and hadn’t had the time or the inclination. Nor would he have been able to handle the distraction. The last thing he’d wanted to do was have a discussion with the man sleeping with the woman Cole had loved. He couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said to the guy to get rid of him, but it probably hadn’t been too nice.

He felt a pang of regret now as he approached the urn. It had been set up on a table in the library, flanked with flowers and photos of the dark-haired, dark-eyed man. Emery Little had been a good-looking guy—the kind of guy who was so good-looking he was almost pretty. Or maybe that was just more of Cole’s jealousy seeping out.

“Did you know my daddy?” a soft voice asked, and small fingers grasped his arm, tugging on it to draw his attention.

As Cole looked down at the little girl, he felt another pang. But he couldn’t identify it. Was it regret that she wasn’t his child? Jealousy that she was another man’s? Or was it just that she reminded him so damn much of her mother?

She looked so much like Shawna, just like a little doll, with her mother’s black, silky hair and porcelain skin. She didn’t have Shawna’s warm brown eyes, though. The child’s were a deep, bright blue.

“Did you know Daddy?” she asked again as she stared up at him.

He shook his head. “No. I knew your mother...” Or at least he’d thought he had. But he’d been wrong, painfully wrong.

Her eyes brightened with recognition, and she exclaimed, “I know who you are!”

Had Shawna showed her daughter his photo before? She would have had enough of them—from every prom and homecoming dance they’d attended—along with all the candid pictures she used to take of him. Or had she destroyed all of those when he’d ended their engagement?

The little girl answered his unspoken question when she exclaimed, “You’re Grampa X’s grandson!”

His grandfather had photos of him around the house. At graduation, in his uniform.

But then he tensed as he realized what she’d called his grandfather. “Grampa X?”

Why would she refer to him as that?

Could she be...

Cole’s heart slammed against his ribs as the thought occurred to him. Could she be his?

Shawna had been so busy avoiding Cole that she’d lost track of her daughter. There were so many people in Xavier’s home—so many mourners. Emery had been a wonderful man, sweet and caring. He hadn’t deserved to die like he had. But then nobody did.

He had only been gone a couple of days, and she already missed him—so much. And so did Maisy. But Shawna didn’t miss Emery like she’d missed Cole. While she’d loved Emery, she’d never been in love with him.

He hadn’t cared, though. He hadn’t been in love with her either. They had only been very good friends. And because neither had been able to spend their lives with the one they really loved, they had decided to build a life together—for Shawna’s baby.

Maisy...

Where had she gone?

Had all the sympathy and tears gotten to be too much for her? It had for Shawna.

She felt like a hypocrite. Everyone thought she and Emery had had the perfect marriage. But they hadn’t had a real marriage at all.

But maybe that was what had made it perfect. They hadn’t had to deal with the mess of real love—with the passion, with the insecurity and hurt.

After Cole, Shawna had vowed to never again risk that kind of pain. And she’d vowed to be Emery’s wife. She’d never expected him to leave her like this.

She had thought that maybe someday he would leave her to finally be with the person he really loved. She had wished him that happiness, and for the past few days, he’d seemed hopeful that it might finally be possible.

Was that person here among the other mourners? Shawna had no idea who it was. Emery had never told her the name of his beloved. Maisy might know, though. She was the epitome of little pitchers having big ears; the child never missed a bit of gossip.

Unfortunately...

Was she hiding somewhere now, eavesdropping on conversations? Or had she gone to the library to find solace in her books?

Shawna slipped through a group of mourners in the hall, passing them with nods but not letting them stop her. She had a sudden instinct that she needed to find Maisy. Now. She quickened her step and rushed through the open pocket doors into the library. And a gasp slipped through her lips when she found Maisy—talking to her father.

Cole stared down at the little girl, and Shawna could see the speculation on his face. He was wondering...

If he realized...

He would hate her even more than Shawna hated him.

“Hey, Maisy,” she called out to her daughter. “You know what I’ve told you about talking to strangers.”

Maisy laughed as if Shawna were joking. Had the little girl figured it out? Or had she overheard the speculation about her paternity that had been rampant ever since Shawna had started showing. Fortunately it had taken a while for her pregnancy to show. Or it wouldn’t have been just speculation.

“Cole isn’t a stranger, Mommy,” Maisy protested. “He’s Grampa X’s grandson.”

Cole turned toward Shawna and arched one of his dark blond brows. “Grampa?”

“He insists she call him that,” Shawna said, “since we’ve been staying with him.” Actually he’d insisted on it even before that. She suspected he knew the truth, although he’d never outright asked her.

“You live here?” Cole asked, his jaw dropping in shock.

“I work for your grandfather,” she said. She hadn’t intended to quit her job at the hospital, but Xavier hadn’t had to do much to talk her into it. She’d been devastated when he’d come into the ER while she was working. He’d been so close to death.

She had already lost so many people she cared about. She had vowed to do whatever she could to keep Xavier alive. But that had meant quitting her job at the ER. She’d even had to scale back on the hours she spent at the high school as assistant coach to the cheerleading squad. And that was a job she’d done since she’d been in high school herself. That was the job that had brought about her friendship with Emery.

Had nobody told Cole that she was working for his grandfather now? But then he rarely had anything to do with his family. She could understand his reasons regarding the rest of them.

But his grandfather...

And his mom?

She could not understand Cole cutting the two of them out of his life. She would do anything to have her family back again. But her parents had died, in a tragic accident on one of their weekly date nights, when she was so young that she sometimes struggled to remember them. Would Maisy remember Emery?

He had been so good to the little girl. He’d treated her like she was his. He could not have loved her any more had she been. Shawna hadn’t had that experience with her aunt and her cousins when she’d come to live with them. If it hadn’t been for Cole...

She would have felt so alone. But the first day of elementary school, Cole had beat up her cousin for her and had threatened he would hurt the kid worse if he ever picked on her again. Cole had been her hero back then.

Now he was her nightmare.

“I work for Grandfather now, too,” Cole said.

Her stomach twisted into knots at the reminder. “He shouldn’t have hired you,” she said. “I have no need for a bodyguard.”

“Yes, you do!” Maisy said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you!” And she burst into tears, her thin shoulders shaking with her desperate sobs.

Shawna knelt to pull the little girl into her arms. But Cole was already there, lifting up the child. The move shocked both mother and daughter, so much that Maisy immediately quieted.

While he held her on one of his mammoth arms, he tipped up her chin with his other hand. “I won’t let anything happen to your mother.”

Maisy blinked her thick black lashes and stared up at him with eyes that mirrored his. And panic clutched Shawna. How could he not know? How could he not stare into those eyes and immediately recognize that the little girl was his?

Maisy tilted her head as she studied his face. Did she see it, too? Or was she trying to determine whether or not to believe him? “Really?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes, really,” he assured her. “I’m a bodyguard. That’s what I do—I protect people.”

A shaky little sigh slipped through Maisy’s rosebud lips. “I wished you would’ve protected Daddy.”

“I didn’t know he was in danger,” Cole told her. “Or I would’ve.”

And now he’d lied to their child twice—first when he’d promised to protect Shawna and now when he’d claimed he would have protected Emery. She was aware that her friend had tried to reach out to him. A hopeless romantic, Emery had wanted to help Shawna find her happy ending, even though at that time he’d given up on ever having his own. After that conversation with Cole, he’d given up on hers, as well.

“Emery wasn’t in danger,” Shawna said defensively. “What happened was just a horrible accident.”

“It was a bomb,” Maisy said, her little voice quavering.

Shawna flinched. Her little spy needed to stop eavesdropping on adult conversations. Unfortunately, she’d had a front row seat to the explosion.

Cole turned toward her and arched a dark blond brow again. He was surprised, too, that the child knew so much. But before Shawna could explain, Maisy added, “I heard it ’splode. It broke my window.”

The blast had broken several windows in the cute little bungalow while rattling the rest of them.

“It happened here?” Cole asked.

Shawna shook her head. “Our home.”

She had been there, packing up more of their stuff to move to the Bentler estate. Maisy had spent the night there—with Emery, who’d still been living in their house. He’d just been leaving for work.

“Grampa X says this is our home now,” Maisy said. “That he needs us to live here, to take care of ’im.”

Shawna suppressed a derisive snort. Sure, Xavier had had a heart attack. He had health issues. But he was the one taking care of them—especially now.

“Why don’t you go check on Grampa?” Shawna suggested. “Make sure he’s okay.”

The little girl nodded and wriggled down from Cole’s arms. He released her quickly, almost as if he was surprised to find himself holding her. Apparently his instinct to comfort and protect hadn’t completely deserted him. Maybe he’d lost it only that day he’d broken their engagement and Shawna’s heart. He hadn’t comforted and protected her then. He’d just walked away.

Maisy hadn’t walked away yet. Despite wriggling out of his arms, she caught his hand and tugged on it until he hunched over so they were face to face. Then she lifted her other hand to his cheek and stared into his eyes.

She was such an observant little girl, which unnerved Shawna for so many reasons. How would she feel if she learned the truth? Would she hate Shawna for lying to her?

“You promise you will protect my mommy?” the little girl asked the bodyguard.

Cole stared at her for several long seconds before solemnly nodding and replying, “I promise.”

His word was good enough for the little girl who dropped her hand from his face and scampered out of the library.

Still crouched down, Cole released an unsteady breath. And panic stole Shawna’s breath away entirely. He’d noticed. He suspected...

“She’s quite precocious,” he remarked. Then he straightened up and looked down at Shawna, his blue eyes intense. “How old is she?”

She knew what he was asking. What he wanted to know...

Unlike him, she couldn’t outright lie like he had to their daughter. “Five,” she said, then forced herself to add the word that would mislead him. “Just five.”

Implying that she’d just had a birthday, which would have made her too young to be his daughter. But Maisy hadn’t just had a birthday. That special day was actually coming up soon. In just a couple of weeks, she would be six. He couldn’t be here for her birthday, or he would know what the rest of his family only suspected.

She’d tried to convince them that Maisy had been premature. Since she was so tiny, they had believed her even though she’d actually been two weeks late. But then they’d probably wanted to believe her. They wouldn’t want Maisy to be another possible heir they would have to battle. They constantly bickered with each other—over their allowances from their grandfather and over the money they would eventually inherit from him.

That was another reason why Shawna had agreed to become Xavier’s private nurse. She wanted him to live forever, both because she loved the old man and to spite his spiteful family. They’d never treated Cole well either, especially after he’d been made the sole heir of his father’s estate.

Not that she cared about Cole anymore.

She loved Xavier, though. He had always been so good to her. All those times Cole had left her for boot camp and for those long deployments, they had bonded together over their concern for him. Even after Cole had broken up with her, she’d still been there for Xavier, offering him comfort and hope, while he worried about his favorite grandchild.

Shawna couldn’t entirely meet Cole’s blue-eyed gaze, but she could feel him staring at her. Goose bumps of awareness and fear rose on her skin. She shivered a little.

“She’s sweet,” he said. “Looks just like you did.”

“My mini-me,” she said. “That’s what Emery always called her.” Her voice cracked as she thought of her dear friend. More tears threatened despite the fact that she should have already been completely dried out. She blinked them back.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

It was a loss. But it wasn’t her first one. Not by far.

First she’d lost her parents. And then she had lost the love of her life: Cole. She would not feel sorry for herself, though, not when she had so many other blessings.

Like Maisy...

Emery was the one who had lost everything—his life.

“I don’t understand it,” she mused. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to harm Emery.”

“I read the police report,” Cole said. “The bomb wasn’t in his car. It was in yours. The bomb was meant for you.”

Shawna gasped, feeling as though she’d been punched. Of course it had been her car. She hadn’t been using it since she’d started working for Xavier. He always insisted that she use his car and driver. So when Emery’s vehicle hadn’t started that morning, she’d suggested he use hers. She’d urged him to take it and keep it.

The little SUV had just been sitting in the garage for weeks. She’d teased him about letting the newer vehicle sit while he continued to drive his clunker. But because theirs had never been a real marriage, Emery had always been hesitant about using anything of hers. He had been hesitant that morning, too.

If only she hadn’t pushed him. She should have had him use Xavier’s car and driver instead. But then she and Maisy might have gotten into hers.

She didn’t care about her own life. But Maisy was just a child. She had her entire life ahead of her.

The tears rushed over Shawna again, and she couldn’t fight them this time. Sobs racked her body, making her tremble. Then strong arms wound around her, drawing her against a hard, muscular body. And she began to tremble even harder as fear overwhelmed her.

Now she wasn’t just afraid for Maisy but she was also afraid for her heart. It was reacting to Cole’s closeness. It was pounding fast and furiously, and beneath her cheek, she could feel his heart pounding just as fast and furiously.

No. He could not be her bodyguard because no matter what promise he’d made their daughter, he would not be able to protect her.

Even if that bomb had been meant for her, like he’d claimed, he still posed the greater threat to her. She still reacted to him, just as she had when she’d loved him. And she could not fall for him again.

Loving him last time had nearly destroyed her. If she fell for him again, she was terrified she might not survive.

Xavier Bentler smiled as he softly slid the pocket door closed on the couple embracing inside the library. He didn’t want anyone to interrupt them. Not even their daughter. When Maisy had caught him standing in the hallway, he’d sent her off to the kitchen to get him some cookies. Fortunately Shawna hadn’t banned them from the house like she had his cigars.

He turned away from the door and slammed into what felt like a steel post. Cooper Payne steadied him with a strong hand on his shoulder.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” the younger man warned him.

“What game?” Xavier asked, feigning innocence.

“My mother’s a wedding planner,” Cooper related. “I know a matchmaker when I see one.”

Xavier shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My nurse is obviously in danger. She needs protection.” He had a bad feeling that she could be in danger because of him.

“And you could have hired any other security firm besides ours,” Cooper said. “You could have even hired one of my brother’s franchises of the Payne Protection Agency. But you chose mine. No.” He pointed toward the closed pocket doors. “You chose him.”

Unabashed, Xavier nodded in agreement. “Of course I did. He’s my grandson. I know he’s the best.”

And he also knew nobody would protect Shawna like Cole would. Xavier was pretty damn sure that was why the stubborn young fool had broken their engagement all those years ago. Cole had been trying to protect Shawna from the pain of losing him.

Damn fool. He’d just put her through that pain sooner.

His grandson’s boss studied him through narrowed blue eyes. The guy was shrewd. Xavier understood why he was friends with Cole.

“He’s good,” Cooper acknowledged. “All my guys—and my sister—are very good. They will do everything within their power to keep Shawna and her daughter safe.”

“Good,” Xavier said as he released a breath of relief. “That’s what I hired you to do.”

Cooper snorted. “We both know that’s not the only reason you hired us. You’re playing matchmaker. And that’s a dangerous game.”

“More dangerous than bombs?”

“When emotions are involved, things get messy,” Cooper warned. “People get distracted. Cole can’t afford to be distracted right now. You hiring him has put him in even more danger than she is—in even more danger than he was on our missions for the Marine Corps.”

Xavier tensed as fear replaced his earlier satisfaction. “How’s that?”

“Because Cole will give up his life for hers,” Cooper said.

“But you’re all here,” Xavier said. “You’ll all work together to keep her safe.”

“Her,” Cooper said. “But Cole’s going to be more worried about protecting her and that child than himself. He’s now in more danger than she is.”

Xavier hadn’t considered that. He’d known his grandson had defied odds before—in the Marines, even in his new role as bodyguard. But he hadn’t considered that the job he had hired him to do could be the one that would get him killed.

What the hell had he done?

Chapter 3

His heart beating frantically, Cole hadn’t been this afraid...since the last time he’d held Shawna Rolfe in his arms. But she wasn’t Shawna Rolfe anymore. She was Shawna Little. She was another man’s wife.

But having her in his arms again felt so right, felt so natural. She fit just as perfectly as she always had even though she was so petite and he was tall. She was delicate, and he was tough. Actually they had never really fit at all.

He should have never proposed to her in the first place, not when he’d been leaving for the Marines. He’d been young and arrogant then and so convinced that he was invincible. After his father’s death, he should have known no one was, if his incredibly strong, independent father was not.

But it had taken a few deployments for him to understand how tentative his life was. And he hadn’t wanted to put her through yet another loss. Her parents’ deaths had nearly destroyed her.

But losing him hadn’t affected her at all. She’d moved on quickly. And really, he had tried to be happy that she’d had. That she had a husband with a good, safe job. Emery Little shouldn’t have died.

So Cole offered his condolences again with all sincerity. “I’m sorry.”

Shawna pulled back, tugging free of his arms. “Why?” she asked.

“Your husband died.”

Her usually pale skin flushed. “I know. But why are you sorry about that?”

“I didn’t want him dead,” Cole said. “Hell, that was the last thing I wanted.”

She flinched.

“Because I wanted you to be happy,” he explained.

“Why?” she asked the question again, her brow furrowing with confusion. “When you broke up with me...”

He’d had to say terrible things to get her to accept that they were over, that she had no reason to wait for him. Obviously he’d gotten through to her far too well.

“We were not meant to be together,” he said. Then or now. His life as a bodyguard was no less dangerous than his life had been as a Marine. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to be happy.”

He would have preferred that she had waited a little longer though before she’d married someone else and started a family with him. But then he was a hypocrite because the whole reason he’d broken up with her was so she wouldn’t mourn him. Mission accomplished.

She shook her head in denial. Obviously she didn’t believe him. He wasn’t going to argue with her-not while she was in mourning.

“Why are you here, Cole?” she asked.

“My grandfather hired the Payne Protection Agency to protect you.”

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“My boss assigned me to this job.”

She chuckled bitterly. “And what—he would fire you if you refused the assignment?”

“Maybe.” But he doubted it. Cooper probably would have understood if Cole had told the truth, that he was not over her, that he would never be completely over her. But Cole had lied, had claimed that he had no reason to be jealous of her and her dead husband. Why the hell had he lied?

“And what if he had fired you?” she challenged him. “You could start your own damn security firm. Or you could never work another day in your life like the rest of your family.”

While they were all employed at his grandfather’s billion-dollar business, it was a joke. None of them actually did any real work.

And that was why Cole worked. He didn’t want to be like the rest of his family. She knew that because she’d once known him better than anyone else ever had. Or so he’d thought.

Maybe she’d married another man because she had known how much it would hurt him. And she’d wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her.

“My family is the Payne Protection Agency,” he said. “I served with them.” On the battlefield and on the bodyguard frontlines. He wasn’t talking just about his former unit but about Nikki and the rest of the Payne family who’d embraced him and his friends like their own.

“So that’s why you didn’t say no?” she asked. “Because you couldn’t let them down?”

He heard the bitterness and resentment in her voice. Did she still hate him for breaking up with her? Even after all these years, even after she’d found happiness with another man? Of course that happiness was over now.

Emery Little was dead.

And Cole needed to find out why. Had the killer really intended Shawna as the target? If so, she was in serious danger. “You need a bodyguard,” he pointed out. “Even your daughter is worried about you.”

“I’m okay with having a bodyguard,” she said. “To make Maisy feel more secure. But I don’t want that bodyguard to be you.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“You know why,” she said.

But he shook his head. “You got married. You had a kid. You moved on.”

“But I never got over...”

His heart flipped in his chest. Had she never gotten over him—just as he had never really gotten over her?

“...what you said,” she finished. “When you broke up with me, you told me that you couldn’t play hero anymore to my damsel in distress. That there were people in real danger who needed you.”

He barely remembered what he’d told her then. He’d just needed to make her mad enough to agree to the breakup. Again, mission accomplished.

“You told me that I had to grow up and finally learn to take care of myself for once.” Her face was flushed now and her eyes were bright with anger.

Cole’s own temper flared now. “And instead of listening to me, you married some other guy within weeks of our breakup, so that he could take care of you!”

“You son of a bitch!” she cursed him.

He’d been called that before—by his own father. Coleman hadn’t been insulting him, though. He’d been insulting his wife. Cole’s parents had hated each other that much. That was another reason Cole never should have proposed to Shawna. He had no idea how to have a successful marriage. His parents’ had been a disaster. And none of his grandfather’s three marriages had lasted. His uncles had certainly not set good examples for him either.

He didn’t argue with Shawna’s assessment of him. He couldn’t.

She turned and ran toward the doors—that at some point somebody must have closed. She fumbled with them before cursing again and sliding them open just wide enough for her to slip out into the hall.

Cole shouldn’t have said what he had—six years ago or now.

Especially not now.

She had just lost her husband in what had probably been an attempt on her life. Her life was in danger. Remembering that no matter what she said he was supposed to be protecting her, he rushed toward the doors. He pushed them open the rest of the way and stumbled out into the hall.

But she was gone.

Where had she gone?

Shawna dragged in a deep breath as she stepped outside. The sweet, acrid scent of cigars filled her lungs, making her cough and sputter. She found the butt of a cigar, the tip still glowing, lying beside the steps leading out the back door of the garage.

So this was where Xavier came to smoke. Of course if she confronted him, the old codger would probably blame the chauffeur. And Astin, being as loyal as he was, would willingly cover for him.

Xavier charmed everyone—even her—into doing what he wanted. That was why Cole was here. It wasn’t because he cared about her; he’d made his opinion of her abundantly clear six years ago and again just now in the library.

She wasn’t the helpless female he had accused her of being, though. She hadn’t married Emery to protect her. She’d married Emery to protect Maisy. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know her child was a Bentler, hadn’t wanted to subject a baby to the resentment and anger Cole had endured.

And because she wanted to protect Maisy, Shawna would agree to have a bodyguard. Anyone but Cole, though. Her superhero when they were kids. And as a Marine, decorated for his heroism, he had also been a superhero. Why had he changed with her?

Why had he become as cruel as the people from whom he’d once protected her when they were kids? What had she done to him?

Sure, she’d married Emery, but that had been only after he’d broken their engagement and her heart. She never would have stopped loving him, if he hadn’t stopped loving her first.

He still affected her. Even after all these years—even after how much he’d hurt her, he still affected her physically. Emotionally. Passionately.

She wanted to feel nothing. She wanted to be numb—like she had been when she’d gone into shock after the explosion, after she’d realized what had happened to Emery.

Poor Emery.

She blinked back tears. She needed to get back inside, back to mourning her husband and best friend. But she didn’t want to see Cole again. She doubted he had left despite being told she didn’t want him as her bodyguard. But it wouldn’t matter even if he had left. She would still see him—as she saw him all the time—in her mind.

Sometimes he was the boy who’d rescued her and protected her. Sometimes he was the man who’d taught her about love and passion. And sometimes he was the monster who’d broken her heart.

She tensed as she thought of him, but it wasn’t with just anger. She realized that in her haste to get away from him she had stepped outside alone. If she was in real danger, that wasn’t the smartest idea.

And while she would rather not believe that bomb had been meant for her, it had been in her car. Not Emery’s...

She shivered now as a cold chill raised goose bumps along her skin. Her black dress had long sleeves, but it was lightweight material. She needed a sweater. Hell, she needed to be back inside—with people.

With Maisy...

Pushing open the service door, she stepped back into the garage. The lights that had been on moments ago were off. Had she accidentally flipped them off as she’d walked out? But when she touched the switches, she found them facing up already. Turning them the other way didn’t do anything.

Had the power gone out?

There was no storm raging outside. That was only inside her—in her head and in her heart—from having to deal with Cole and her grief. She couldn’t even hear the wind blowing outside. But she could hear something else...

The garage had several stalls, and Xavier had a car in each. It sounded as if the engines of several of them were running now. Why?

Distracted, she stumbled against the rear bumper of one of the vehicles and struck her knee. Pain radiated up her leg, and a cry slipped through her lips. It was so dark without the lights.

She could barely remember which direction led to the house. The garage was attached to the French provincial mansion. That was why she’d rushed into it—because it had been close. She probably should have gone outside instead, like onto the expansive back patio or the wide front porch or the balcony on the second story.

But as desperate as she’d been for air, she hadn’t wanted to see anyone else. Or more important, she hadn’t wanted anyone else to see her.

To see how upset she was...

She’d had enough sympathy she didn’t deserve. Being married to her had cost Emery his life. The bomb must have been meant for her—since it had been in her vehicle.

But why would anyone want her dead?

What had she done? Not that everyone liked her. Her family hadn’t. And most of Cole’s family didn’t like her either. Not only did they suspect that Maisy might be another Bentler heir but they also did not like her close relationship with Xavier. All of Cole’s cousins were as mean to her as her own had been. And she’d left her child alone in that house.

She needed to get back to Maisy and to Xavier.

As Shawna hurried past another car, she realized it was running, too, as was the one next to that, and the next one.

Fumes began to fill the garage. Exhaust. Carbon monoxide.

Why were the vehicles running?

Her eyes began to tear, and she coughed and sputtered for breath. Uncertain where the door to the house was, she turned back toward the outside door. She continued to cough as she rushed to it. Her hands trembling, she grabbed the knob.

But it didn’t turn. She tugged and pulled at it. But it didn’t budge. Someone had locked the door—or blocked it—from the outside. She was trapped. Someone had trapped her inside a garage that was quickly filling with carbon monoxide. Someone definitely wanted her dead.

She could not die. She couldn’t leave her child an orphan. But then Maisy wouldn’t really be an orphan. She had a father still. Would Cole even want her?

Would he ever forgive Shawna for keeping her from him all these years? At the moment, his forgiveness was the last thing she needed to think about. Survival was paramount.

She was not the helpless damsel in distress Cole had once accused her of being. She was going to fight like hell to get out of here.

She was going to fight for Maisy...

I cannot live with what I’ve done. I am the one who planted the bomb that killed my husband. I wanted out of my marriage. Now I want out of my life.

Using the eraser of a pencil, the killer tapped out the message on the keys of Shawna Rolfe-Little’s laptop keyboard. It would have to suffice. There was no way to print out the paper and have it signed—even if Shawna could have been coerced to sign it.

It was probably too late for that. Shawna might already be dead. She should already be dead.

If only Emery hadn’t been the one to start her car...

It would have already been over, but then Little would still be alive. The killer stared at the urn on the table in the library and felt no regret over his death. It wasn’t as if Emery Little had been an innocent man. He’d been causing problems as well, problems that had pushed up the killer’s timetable.

The plan had been to send Emery Little to prison, not the grave. Little was supposed to have been held responsible for Shawna’s murder.

Plans could be adjusted, though. Now Shawna would be held responsible for Little’s death and for her own. And Cole and his damn friends could return to wherever the hell they’d come from.

Cole turning up at the funeral had been a surprise. An unpleasant surprise.

But once Shawna was dead, he would have no reason to stay. She had to be dead.

Chapter 4

Where the hell is she?

Cole hadn’t searched the entire house for her. The old mansion was too big for him to have investigated every nook and cranny. He had hit the main rooms first—the living room and dining room and parlors where the other mourners and unfortunately some of his scowling family members were hanging out. But he’d caught no sight of Shawna nor had any of his fellow bodyguards reported having seen her. They were all searching for her now, too.

Unsuccessfully.

How the hell had she just disappeared?

Cole retraced his steps to the library where he’d lost her. The pocket doors were open again, so more people—some of Cole’s contemptuous cousins and his mom and his stepdad—had gone inside to pay their last respects to the urn of Emery Little’s ashes.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of his mother. Tall and blonde and slender, Tiffani still looked like the pageant queen that she’d once been, the one who’d turned his father’s head while working as an intern in his company. She didn’t look old enough to be Cole’s mother, but then she’d rarely acted like it.

She’d taken more to Shawna than she ever had him. They even used to work with the cheerleaders at the high school. He wondered if they still did that, but he didn’t care enough to ask; that would have required approaching his mother. Since his father had died, they struggled to have any conversation at all, let alone a civil one.

His cousins—the female twins—Lori and Tori scowled at him. They tried to look like his mom by bleaching their hair and using colored contacts. They looked like caricatures of her instead. Then there were his male cousins, Bobby and Reggie, who were a little older than he was but still dressed and acted like frat boys, even at a funeral. They completely ignored him the way they’d done since they were all kids.

Jeffrey Inman, his stepfather, was the only one who paid him any attention. He waved at him and smiled. He seemed to be a nice man, and was also a former vet, retired now from the Army. But instead of heading toward him, Cole backed away from the open pocket doors.

Manny was in the library, too. Although the dark-haired bodyguard didn’t know anyone beyond the descriptions of them that Cole had shared over the years, he was carrying on a couple of conversations. The bleached-blonde twins had latched onto him as if they had a chance with a man who was dating a supermodel. But Manny was friendly. He could talk to anyone or no one at all. As his roommate, Cole often heard the other man talking in his sleep.

At least he could sleep.

Cole struggled with that, with shutting off his mind enough to rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw things he spent his waking hours trying to forget. And it wasn’t just the things that had happened during their missions.

He saw Shawna, too.

He saw way too much of Shawna when he closed his eyes. But when he opened his eyes, she was never there, never lying in bed next to him like he wanted her. Naked. Flushed with passion. Or smiling and affectionate. She was gone—just like she was now.

He realized that while he’d been searching for her, he hadn’t seen her daughter either. They were probably together. Hadn’t she sent Maisy off to check on his grandfather?

He backed out of the library and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen. The main meal had been set out as a buffet in the enormous dining room, but Cole had already been there and, as well as Shawna and Maisy, he hadn’t seen Xavier either. Of course it would have been more difficult for the old man to sneak treats off the buffet. The excess bakery goods had been left sitting out in the kitchen, and his grandfather’s sweet tooth was legendary.

But when Cole stepped into the kitchen, he found it empty, as well. The cook and servers must have been in the dining room, restocking the buffet. Some of the cookies were gone, but for one that Cole crunched under his foot against the tile floor. He glanced down and noticed a few more had fallen onto the tiles near the long island that ran between the rows of cabinets on each wall. As he leaned down to pick them up, he noticed little feet sticking out between two bar stools pulled up beneath the granite counter.

He dropped to his haunches and met the blue-eyed gaze of the little girl who sat with her back against the cabinets and her knobby knees pulled up nearly to her chin. Cookie crumbs clung to her lips and liberally peppered her black tights. Although it was obvious, he asked, “Whatcha doing?”

Tears welled in her eyes. She squeezed her lids shut, but some of those tears slipped through her thick black lashes. Cole gasped as he felt that sensation he used to feel when Shawna cried, like someone was squeezing his heart in a tight fist. Needing to comfort her—and maybe himself as well—he scooped her out from beneath the counter and into his arms. Maisy’s eyes opened and she stared up at him through her tears.

“Are you okay?” he asked, then grimaced at his insensitivity. Of course she wasn’t okay. She’d lost her father. He had to make sure she didn’t lose her mother, too.

But everyone was searching for Shawna. Someone would find her soon—probably more easily than he would since he was the one from whom she’d run away.

“That was a stupid thing to ask you, huh?” he remarked.

She blinked again, but no more tears fell. “Why?” she asked.

“Because I know what’s wrong,” he said. And it wasn’t just the fact that she had probably eaten too many cookies. “My dad died, too.”

She lifted her hand to his cheek like she had in the library. But now she was offering him comfort. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s what everyone keeps saying to me...like it’s their fault.” Her blue eyes widened with fear. “Is it?”

It was somebody’s fault, unless Emery Little had set that bomb himself. And Cole doubted that. The man had had everything to live for. He’d had a great job with students who adored him. And he had a wonderful little girl. And he’d had Shawna.

Where the hell was Shawna?

A chill chased down his spine as he thought of her and of what Maisy had just said. Had her father’s killer apologized to her? Was he or she somebody in this very house?

“I don’t know whose fault it is,” he answered honestly. “But I will find out.” Damn. He’d just made another promise, but for some reason he felt compelled to take care of her, just like he’d felt compelled to take care of Shawna when they’d first met so many years ago.

“Do you know who killed your daddy?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nobody killed him.” Except himself. “It was an accident.”

His father had been so driven, so determined to get as much out of life as possible that he’d lived it on the edge. It shouldn’t have been so surprising that he had eventually fallen off. Literally. He’d lost control of his sports car on a sharp turn and had fallen off a cliff. There hadn’t been much more of him left than there had been of Emery Little.

“My dad died several years ago,” he told her. “It gets easier.”

“Easier?” she parroted, her little brow puckered with confusion.

It probably hadn’t been the right word to use.

“Better.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just gradually hurts less.”

She released a little breath. “That’s good. Will Mommy hurt less, too?”

That tight fist squeezed his heart again. He hated to think of Shawna in pain, especially and selfishly, over another man. “Yeah, eventually.”

The little girl’s wide eyes narrowed as she studied his face. Did she see his jealousy? She was much too astute. How could she be barely five years old?

“She’ll be okay,” he assured the little girl.

“But aren’t you supposed to be bodyguarding her?” Maisy asked.

“Well...” That was damn hard to do when you couldn’t find the body you were supposed to be guarding.

“You promised,” she reminded him.

“Yes, I did,” he said. But he wasn’t certain if that was a promise that Shawna would make it possible for him to keep. “But I don’t know where she’s gone.”

“I know,” she said.

But before she could tell him, Manny burst into the kitchen, a laptop tightly clenched in his hands. “There you are!” he exclaimed. “You’ve got to see this.” Then he noticed the little girl in Cole’s arms and his face flushed. “But she shouldn’t—if she can read.”

“What? What is it?” Maisy asked.

But Cole put her down on the floor and held the laptop above her head, just in case she could read already. He shook his head at the supposed suicide note where Shawna admitted her guilt. “No...”

It wasn’t possible.

If Shawna was capable of killing anyone, it would have been him when he’d broken their engagement six years ago. She had been furious with him then. More furious than he had ever seen her...even more than when she’d stormed out on him a short time ago.

“What is it?” Maisy asked again as she tugged on his arm.

“Nothing,” Cole said. Then he remembered. “You said you know where your mother went—tell me!”

At the urgency in his voice, the color drained from the little girl’s already pale face, and her bottom lip quivered as if she was about to cry. That was the last thing Cole had wanted to cause. He wanted to make sure she didn’t have any reason to cry, ever again.

He dropped to his knees beside her. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can tell me where your mother is. Remember—I’m supposed to be bodyguarding her.”

He could only hope that when he found Shawna, it wasn’t too late to save her. Why would the killer have written a suicide note to frame her, unless that killer was damn certain that she was already dead?

Panic pressed on Shawna’s lungs, which already burned from the carbon monoxide filling the garage. Thankfully the building was big, with a tall ceiling, or she might have died already.

Eyes streaming from the toxic fumes, she blinked furiously as she searched through the darkness and smoke for the control panel that opened the overhead doors from the inside. She found it near the service door to the house—the one that, just like the back door, would not open. It had been locked somehow from the outside.

Her fingers shaking, she pressed the buttons for all the overhead doors but none of them budged. And of course the lights were off. Someone must have cut the power to the garage.

There was no way out without knocking down a door. And she just wasn’t strong enough. Cole’s voice echoed inside her head, taunting her like her cousins used to taunt her. Damsel in distress. Damsel in distress.

No. It wasn’t that she wasn’t strong enough to break down a door. She wasn’t big enough. She was stronger than Cole knew, stronger for which he’d given her credit. And while she couldn’t bust her way out of the garage physically, she could do it mentally.

Couldn’t she?

Her vision began to blur and not just from the smoke and the darkness. Her lungs burning, she was beginning to lose consciousness. She couldn’t do that or she would lose it all.

Her life. Maisy...

Thinking of her sweet little girl renewed her strength. She stumbled through the smoke toward one of those cars and pulled at the driver’s door. It was locked with the damn keys in the ignition.

She stumbled into another bay, toward another door, but it was locked, as well. How had someone managed to start all the vehicles without Astin knowing?

Where was the chauffeur?

She stumbled toward another vehicle but tripped as her feet hit something. And she fell. A body broke her landing, saving her from the concrete on which Astin lay. His hat had been knocked off, and blood spattered the ground and the side of the nearest vehicle.

“Oh, no!” she gasped. And more tears burned her eyes, but these weren’t from the fumes. Astin was such a sweet man. And like anyone who worked for Xavier, he had become part of the family—dysfunctional though it was. She felt his wrist, hoping to find a pulse. And her breath shuddered out when she found one, albeit weak. She leaned closer, making sure that he was still breathing.

He was. But barely. He needed air. And so did she. She wasn’t certain she would have been able to perform CPR, had he stopped breathing.

She had to get them out.

She pushed herself to her feet again and as she did, her hands scraped the concrete and something metal. A crowbar lay next to the chauffeur’s body. She wrapped her fingers around it but it was harder to lift than she’d thought it would be.

And she could barely think...

Her mind was so foggy, like the air in the garage. She couldn’t see. She could barely stand, her legs threatened to fold beneath her. But she couldn’t give up.

She had to find a way out. A way back to her daughter.

Gathering all her strength, she lifted the crowbar and swung it at the car door. It bounced off the car window and fell from her grasp, clamoring to the concrete beside the vehicle.

What the hell was the glass made of? Why wouldn’t it break? Was she just that weak?

Coughing and sputtering, she dropped to her knees to pick the bar back up. But she couldn’t summon the strength to stand again. Her legs—all of her muscles—felt like jelly.

She was so weak and foggy-headed that she thought of lying down beside Astin. Wouldn’t Cole come to her rescue like he always had?

Then again, she’d told him she didn’t want his protection. She didn’t need his help. She’d lied to him and to herself. But she’d had no idea—until now—just how much danger she was in...

The bomb hadn’t been a mistake, except that it had claimed Emery’s life instead of hers. Someone clearly wanted her dead. And she was afraid that someone might be about to get his wish.

“We need a crowbar,” Manny said as he struggled with the service door on the side of the garage. Fumes seeped out from beneath it into the mudroom that separated the house from the garage in which vehicles rumbled. Someone had locked the door from the inside, and he could guess who.

But it was clear that Cole, who’d shaken his head as he’d read the suicide note, refused to accept it. Maybe he was right to be suspicious of it, though.

Because it wasn’t a lock on the inside keeping the door closed but a lock on the outside, a lock that had been filled with some kind of industrial strength glue. It stuck to Manny’s palms as he wrestled with the knob. He cursed and kicked at the door.

Fortunately, it wasn’t the only one in the mudroom. Another door opened onto the sidewalk to the driveway. Cole rushed through it and around to the front of the garage. Smoke furled beneath the overhead doors, too, seeping out.

Cole tugged at the handle of one, but he couldn’t raise it. And as he struggled with it, Manny heard one of those rumbling engines roar as someone pressed on an accelerator. Wood splintered and tires squealed as the vehicle barreled through the door.

And through Cole?

He didn’t see his friend, who moments before had been standing in front of that door. He only saw the long, black limousine that had rammed through it. And he saw behind the wheel of that vehicle, the woman with long black hair.

She wasn’t dead.

But she might have just killed Cole.

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