by Cynthia Eden
Lie.
So he couldn’t help but wonder: Just what sort of enemies would a sweet librarian have? And Elizabeth was sweet. She smelled like cinnamon, and he pretty much wanted to damn well gobble her up. He’d seen her reading to the kids, leading them in story-time dances. He’d seen her too much.
Hell... I’m the one turning into a stalker.
“And why were you here, Mr. McGuire?” one of the cops asked as if reading his thoughts.
“I—”
“He was turning in a book,” Elizabeth said quickly. “And I am so very glad that he was.”
Mac shrugged. “It was overdue.” A total lie. He’d just wanted to see her.
“I’ll waive that fine,” Elizabeth said, for some reason choosing to go along with his story as her fingers brushed his shoulder. Mac couldn’t help it—he tensed at her touch. It seemed as if an electric current shot right through him. There was just something about Elizabeth...
Her hand dropped.
She backed away.
Something about her, but the woman is not interested in me. He’d tried to ask her out before. A time or two. Or four. She’d shot him down every time.
He guessed that a rough and ready ex-Delta Force member wasn’t her idea of proper date material. Too bad. She should know that opposites could definitely attract.
“I called the library’s director,” Elizabeth said. “She’s coming to make sure the window is secured. She said the alarm team would be here soon, too.”
He glanced to the left. As if on cue, a blue SUV was pulling up. When the interior lights flashed on, he recognized the woman inside—Cathy Waite, the director.
“I have to talk with her,” Elizabeth said as she hurried off.
Mac didn’t follow her. Instead, he stepped closer to the cops. “When a man stalks a woman in a building like this, with a knife at the ready, that’s serious damn trouble.”
“W-we’ll run that knife—”
“He only fled when he heard me. That jerk had plans tonight. He was going to hurt her.” His hands clenched into fists. “You need to find that guy before he strikes again.” Before I get to him first.
Mac glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth. She and Cathy were talking as a service truck pulled up.
“They can’t start working on that window yet,” one of the cops said when he spied the truck. “We’re not done with our investigation!” Then he was rushing forward.
Mac’s gaze slid to Elizabeth. She was rubbing her arms again, as if she was cold. He shrugged out of his jacket and headed toward her. When he put the jacket around her shoulders, she jumped a bit. Hell, he had to stop scaring her. Mac was used to moving silently, and sometimes he forgot how disconcerting that could be for people.
Her fingers curled around the jacket. “Thank you.” The damn thing swallowed her delicate frame. He glanced down and saw that she’d put her shoes back on. Earlier, she’d kicked them off and he’d seen her toes, painted a bright fire-engine red. The cops had returned the shoes to her.
“You should go,” Elizabeth said with a little nod. “The cops are here, Cathy’s here...we have to get things secured. You just... You’ve already gone above and beyond in your library-patron duty.”
“I don’t mind hanging around,” Mac said, trying to sound casual.
The flashing lights swirled around them. Elizabeth stepped a bit closer to him. Sweet cinnamon wrapped around him. “You don’t have to stay,” Elizabeth said softly. “But thank you for playing hero.” Then she started to take off his jacket.
He lifted his hand, stopping her. “Keep it. I’ve got others.” And he didn’t want her cold.
She flashed him a smile. “Like I said, I owe you, Mac.”
“Then maybe you can repay that debt by having a drink with me.” The words hung between them.
She bit her lip. A bad move because he found it sexy. He wanted to touch that lip, lick it. Maybe bite it. Not too hard, of course. What would his sweet librarian do then?
“I don’t think we’d be a good idea,” Elizabeth said.
Shot down for the fifth time. He was a man who could take a hint. “Why not?” He touched her cheek and saw the quick breath that she took. Saw the tremble that shook her. “I know you feel it, too.” It. That heady awareness between them. The connection that said they’d pretty much ignite together.
“I do.” She tipped back her head to stare up at him. “But I don’t think I can handle what you’d want from me.”
“I bet you could.”
“I heard the stories about you.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “You’re all about danger. Adrenaline.” Elizabeth shook her head. “That life isn’t for me. I can’t do that.”
He nodded. “I wasn’t asking you to head out on a mission with me. I was just talking about a drink.”
She laughed. Hell, he really liked that laugh. And for her to be able to laugh there, after everything that had happened...
“I do owe you, Mac,” Elizabeth said. “So I think I’d like that drink date.” She hesitated. “I just, I can’t offer more than that. You need to know that going in.”
“Understood.” He knew how to be a gentleman, though he was sure plenty of people would disagree. The rough and ready McGuire brothers had gotten a pretty strong reputation over the years, and gossip did like to fly.
He didn’t particularly care what the gossips thought. But Mac did care about what Elizabeth thought.
She hurried to join Cathy once more. Mac turned toward his car. He’d taken just a few steps when he stopped and glanced back at the now well-lit library.
What if the guy comes back?
* * *
MAC WAS A temptation she didn’t need. Elizabeth slammed her car door and hurried up the sidewalk to her house. She should be steering clear of the guy and everything that he represented. Instead, she’d agreed to drinks.
And she wanted more.
There was something between them—lust. Desire. She got that. She tried to play it cool around him, but a very large part of her wanted to jump the man on sight.
Her heels clicked over her sidewalk as she hurried home. She glanced around, a bit nervous, but her neighborhood was safe. There were plenty of dogs close by. Plenty of helpful, wonderfully nosy folks like her neighbor Judy Lee, who kept a watch on things.
Her key slid into the lock. She should cancel that drink date with Mac. Though, technically, they hadn’t planned a date. They’d just said they would have drinks. Sometime. Somewhere. And she would not jump him.
She most definitely would not let her wild side out with Mac, even though he did tempt her. He made her want things...excitement, passion...things that could be dangerous.
As dangerous as he is.
She went into her house. Flipped on the light. And—
Her phone rang.
Fumbling, Elizabeth pulled out the phone and frowned at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number that appeared there. A number, no name.
Who could be calling her at this hour? She rarely ever gave out her own number. She hadn’t even given it to Mac. But she had given it to the police. Maybe they’d caught the guy already! She kicked the door shut with her foot, flipped the lock and answered, “This is Elizabeth—”
“Beth.”
Ice poured through her veins.
“I know what he’s after, Beth. I can help you.”
“Who is this?” She put her back to the door, and her tight grip probably came close to splintering her phone.
“We both found you, but we can stop him.”
“Who is this?” Elizabeth demanded again as fear pulsed through her. First the attack, now this guy... Why is this happening?
“Meet me now. Before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?�
�� Elizabeth turned and peered through her blinds. Had a car just glided to a stop in front of Ms. Lee’s? It was so dark under that big tree, it was hard to tell for certain, but a car could be there. “I think you’ve got the wrong woman.”
“I was there, in Colorado, Beth.” His voice sounded vaguely familiar. “I want to help you.”
The guy at the library had wanted to hurt her. “What you need to do is leave me alone,” she said, injecting a note of steel into her voice. “Stay away from me.”
“You’re in danger!”
“Are you threatening me?” She was pretty sure that she’d just seen a shadow move out there beneath the tree. Her knees were knocking together.
“I’m trying to help you!”
Right. Was she supposed to foolishly believe that? The guy wouldn’t even tell her who he was!
“Look, I couldn’t let the past go. I was asking questions, talking too much—I showed my hand too soon.”
Okay, now she was just lost.
“Because of that, we’re both in danger.”
She still had on Mac’s jacket, but a chill skated down her spine.
“I know I’m being hunted, and so are you. Meet me,” he said, his voice still oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She usually had a knack for remembering voices. “Now. I’m close to a bar on Avers Street. A place called Rustic. Meet me in the alley outside.”
Sure. Because she had a death wish. She’d just skip right into a dark alley with a stranger who called her the same night that she’d nearly been attacked.
“I can help you stop him.” His voice deepened. “I know what happened before, okay? I was there. I reported on it.”
Reported—with that one word, his voice clicked, and she had a flash in her mind of a man—tall, a little thin, with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes that she’d actually thought held compassion.
But that had been a lifetime ago. Elizabeth had been a different person back then.
“You have me confused with someone else,” she said.
“Beth, no, don’t hang up.” His breath heaved out in a sigh that filled the phone. “You came to Texas because of what happened, didn’t you? Because this was his home? Part of you has to be looking for closure. I want that closure, too! I figured it out—everything. Come see me and we can stop— Ah!”
His words ended on a sharp cry. A cry of pain?
“Hello?” Elizabeth said. “Are you okay?”
Click. Silence. The call had ended.
“Hello?” She hit the call-back button but the line just rang and rang. After a few moments voice mail picked up.
This is Steve Yeldon. If you’ve got a story for me, leave a message. Otherwise...why are you calling me?
Steve Yeldon. That name was straight from her past. Elizabeth lowered the phone and stared at the screen. She remembered that reporter. He’d been young, only a few years older than she was. He hadn’t attacked her, not the way so many others had. He’d kept asking for her side of the story.
She hadn’t wanted to talk.
But that had been years ago.
Her finger slipped over her phone’s screen one more time. His last cry had sent goose bumps rising over her arms and had dread lodging in her heart. She tried calling back once more, needing to actually talk to him again and have Steve tell her that he’d just been disconnected, that everything was fine—
Someone answered the phone. She could hear the rush of breath.
“Hello?” Elizabeth said. “Is this Steve Yeldon?”
The rush of breath came over the line again.
“Steve, look, I don’t want—”
“Steve can’t talk right now.”
The low, raspy voice sent more shivers over her. “Who is this?”
“I’ll see you soon, Elizabeth.”
A distinct click filled her ears as fear knotted her stomach.
Her first instinct was to call the cops, to get to that alley but—
The cops didn’t believe me before. Not back when she’d first met Steve Yeldon. Her past with the cops was twisted and dark. She didn’t turn to them these days. Mostly because she didn’t trust them to help her.
But Steve needs help.
And she...she was the only one who could help him.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and grabbed for her car keys.
Chapter Two
Mac didn’t even know what the hell he was doing. He shouldn’t have followed Elizabeth back to her house. He definitely shouldn’t be lurking outside like some kind of stalker.
He’d just been worried. As if that made his tailing routine right. He raked a hand through his hair. The woman was home, safe and sound, so he should leave. Right then and not go up to her door. But...something kept nagging at him...
She has enemies. She’s keeping them secret.
He turned back toward his car. He’d talk to her tomorrow. Like a normal person. Like—
Elizabeth ran out of her house. Ran.
“Hey—” Mac called.
She jumped into her car, reversed with a squeal of her tires and nearly took out her mailbox. Her vehicle shot past him, fishtailing a bit, but he was already jumping in his own ride. He knew something was wrong. A person only drove that fast and hard when there was serious danger at play.
Elizabeth had told him that she didn’t like danger.
He cranked his car and headed after her. He followed Elizabeth’s car as she cut toward Austin, going to the downtown area and hitting the streets that were filled with clubs. He wouldn’t have pegged Elizabeth for the club type, but he’d been wrong about people before. Some of those mistakes had nearly proved fatal for him and his brothers.
Elizabeth pulled into a public parking lot. She hadn’t seemed to notice that he was tailing her. He figured she’d been driving too fast to notice. His car idled by the curb. He didn’t see any threats around there. When he lowered his car window, the beat of music filled the air, and laughter floated in the wind.
Time to stop seeing trouble everywhere. She’s just hitting a club. Going for a drink, with someone else.
She’d sure been in an awful big hurry for that drink.
Elizabeth headed toward Rustic, a bar he recognized. Not the worst place, but not the best, either.
Shaking his head, Mac—
Elizabeth ran into the alley. The alley, not the bar. Mac straightened in his seat. What the hell was she doing?
Leave. I should leave. No one is threatening her.
The alley entrance waited, and Elizabeth had vanished.
* * *
SOMETIMES YOU KNEW when you were making a bad mistake. When she stepped into that alley, Elizabeth knew she should turn around. She should get the heck out of there as fast as her feet could carry her.
It was fear that stopped her from turning around and fleeing. She was terribly afraid that something had happened to Steve Yeldon. That last gasp kept replaying in her head.
As far as alleys went, she figured this was a relatively nice one. The smell was manageable—mostly the scent of garbage and cheap alcohol permeated the space. There were a few garbage bins around the area—big green metal monsters. The alley was dim, and the only lights seemed to be coming from the nearby buildings.
She inched forward, trying to see in the shadows behind some of those big bins. “Steve? Um, Steve Yeldon? Are you here?” Elizabeth took a few more steps into that darkness. He didn’t answer her, so she pulled out her phone and dialed his number again.
There were a few moments of tense silence and then...
Ringing. Very distinct ringing that seemed to be coming from directly behind the bin to the left.
She lowered the phone. “Steve?”
There was the faintest rustle then.
Like clothing that had brushed against something.
“Steve? Are you hurt?” She risked another step toward the big bin. Maybe it was Steve over there or...maybe it was that scary guy who’d taunted her.
Trying to be ready, she yanked her pepper spray out of her purse. Then she leaped to the side of that garbage bin, ready to attack.
But you didn’t attack the dead. One look, and Elizabeth knew she was staring at a dead man. His body was slumped, twisted, too still. And even in that dim light, she could see the dark pool beneath his body. Her fingers swiped over her phone, and she turned on her flashlight app. The light from her phone flooded the scene and revealed Steve’s face. A little older now, a little leaner and very definitely dead.
Blood was everywhere. So much blood. She backed away, stumbling a bit. She was still holding her phone and her pepper spray and—
A rat crawled from beneath the garbage bin and raced past Steve’s body. She screamed, the cry breaking from her even as she realized that rat must have caused the strange rustling sound she’d heard before. It must have been him and—
“Got you.”
Hard arms wrapped around Elizabeth and yanked her back. The phone fell from her fingers but it didn’t matter. What mattered was her pepper spray. His arms were a fierce band around her stomach, and he had her lifted up so that her legs dangled. She couldn’t kick back at him, but she sure tried. She twisted her body, flipped her hand around and she closed her own eyes as she shot that pepper spray back at him.
He yelled, a guttural cry, and released her. Elizabeth hit the cement, scraping her hands and finding herself way too close to a dead body.
“Elizabeth!” Her head jerked up at that roar. It was a cry that wasn’t coming from her attacker. Instead, that fierce bellow had come from the front of the alley. She could see the outline of a man—tall, strong—and he was rushing forward.
Her attacker fled, his footsteps pounding by her. She pushed up to her feet, ignoring the sting on her hands and knees as Mac hurried toward her. He locked his arms around her and pulled her close. “Elizabeth! Are you okay?”
