Secrets. Cynthia Eden
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plenty of space at the ranch,” Brodie continued in that deep rumble of his. “So you don’t have to worry about me...getting too close.”
Just like that, her eyes were back on him.
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I want you safe. I can keep my hands off you.”
She’d never thought otherwise.
“Come with me,” Brodie said. “Trust me to protect you.”
Brodie McGuire. The years had carved him into an even more dangerous, powerful man. He was big, easily over six foot three, with wide shoulders and a solid build that told her the guy was definitely no stranger to a gym.
He was handsome, almost ridiculously so with that hard, square jaw, that perfect blade of a nose and his green eyes. And the man had dimples. Dimples. They flashed when he smiled, and that smile of his made her stomach flip.
He was a threat to her, in so many ways, but he was also the one man who’d never let her down. The one man who could actually keep her alive.
Even if he didn’t know all her secrets.
“Come with me,” he said again.
She nodded.
* * *
JENNIFER WESLEY WAS making a deadly mistake. She thought that an ex-lover could protect her?
She was wrong.
He had her in his sights, and he wasn’t about to let her vanish.
There would be no escape. No mercy, either.
He watched as Jennifer and Brodie McGuire left the run-down hotel. Brodie was right beside Jennifer for every step she took, his body tense, protective.
Jennifer had certainly blinded that man to her true nature.
Brodie needed to be more careful. If he didn’t watch it, the ex-SEAL might just find himself targeted, too.
You don’t want to die for her.
Because Brodie didn’t even really know the woman he was protecting. She wasn’t some sweet, lost innocent.
Jennifer Wesley was a cold-blooded killer.
He had her in his home. Some of the desperate tension that Brodie felt should have eased since they were safe, but it hadn’t. If anything, the tension within him just seemed to be growing worse.
He’d called his friend Shayne Townsend again—Brodie and the Austin police detective had been friends for years. He knew he could count on Shayne and his team to search Jennifer’s hotel for prints and trace evidence.
He and Jennifer were in the main ranch house. A place that he and his twin brother, Davis, had completely renovated. Sometimes, the house seemed to be filled with ghosts.
And other times, the place felt too damn empty.
Jennifer stood in front of the fireplace, gazing around with wide eyes. The woman had pretty much been through hell in the past twenty-four hours, and she probably just wanted to crash.
He cleared his throat. “The guest bedroom is down the hallway, second door on your right.” Brodie didn’t mention that his bedroom was behind the first door on her right. He didn’t want to spook Jennifer any more than necessary. Any more than she already is spooked.
Her dark gaze slid toward the hallway. “Are we the only ones here?”
He tapped a code in the security panel, making sure that the system was set for the night. “My brother Davis is usually here, but he’s working a case in North Carolina right now.” Since he and his brothers had formed McGuire Securities a few years ago, their business had started attracting plenty of attention. At first, their cases had primarily been in Texas, but as their reputation had grown, they’d branched out into the South and along the East Coast.
She took a step toward the hallway, then hesitated. “This is going to sound terrible...” Jennifer glanced back at him. “But I’m starving.”
Realization slammed into him. The woman never got her meal!
“Can I raid your kitchen?” Jennifer asked with a quick smile that made his heart thump in his chest.
He felt like an absolute heel. “I can—I can make you something.” Wait, had he just stuttered like some nervous teen? Hell, he had.
The scent of lavender deepened around him as Jennifer eased closer to him. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
And he had the thought, Jennifer Wesley is trouble with a capital T. He caught her hand and led her to the kitchen. Within his grasp, her fingers were soft and silky. Delicate. His hold tightened on her.
The kitchen was cavernous, courtesy of his twin brother’s addiction to food. Brodie motioned toward the bar and started rummaging in the fridge. There was plenty of stuff in there that he could use to make her a meal.
“Just a sandwich is fine,” Jennifer told him quietly. “After everything that’s happened, I’m not even sure I could handle more than that tonight.”
He got the sandwiches—one for her and one for his growling stomach—ready in record time. Her smile rocked right through him when he offered the plate to her.
The woman had to be used to dining on meals that were one hundred times better than a ham sandwich, but as they sat together and ate cold sandwiches at his bar, she acted as if she were in heaven.
His gaze kept sliding over her as questions rolled through his mind. The police reports from New Orleans were on their way to him, courtesy of some pull that he had, but there were other answers that only Jennifer could give to him.
Questions he needed to ask her.
She finished her sandwich and flashed him a wide smile.
He hated to make that smile dim, but he had to ask...“What secret do you have that a man would be willing to kill for?”
He saw it then, the crack in her mask. Fear flashed in her eyes, and her golden skin paled. “I have no secrets.”
Her lies sounded just like her truths, but her eyes had given her away. “That’s not going to work.”
She rose, backed away. “I should get some sleep.”
He followed her. “If you want me to help you, then you have to be honest with me.” They were back in the den. “What does this guy think he knows about you?”
She didn’t look at him. “I have no idea.”
“Then start by telling me your secrets. The things that you think no one knows. Tell those secrets to me, and I’ll work from there.”
Now she did look back over her shoulder at him.
He read her hesitation too easily.
“I’ll find out,” he told her, voice soft, “sooner or later. It’s what I do.” What she wanted him to do. If Jennifer hadn’t wanted the truth to come to light, then she never should have come to his office.
She shouldn’t have come back to him.
“What, exactly, are you asking?” Jennifer turned toward him. “If I’ve committed some sort of crime? Is that what you think happened here? That I did something—and now this guy is after me?”
He had no clue about what she might have done... That was the problem. “You have a man on your trail who wants to hurt you.” No, kill her. A knife attack, an arson and a hit-and-run... That wasn’t the usual type of stalking case that he heard about. It was one hell of a lot more intense—and deadly. “Do you have a lover that you rejected? A man you turned away who might have—”
“Gone