by Lisa Childs
He nodded, and his throat moved as if he were struggling to swallow his emotion. “I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you forever.”
She wound her arm around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss. “You are not going to lose me,” she promised him. “Ever.”
He kissed her deeply before pulling back to expel a ragged breath. “I know. I know that you’re tough as hell and can take care of yourself.”
Her heart swelled with even more love for him. And she’d already thought she couldn’t love him more than she already did. “I love you, and I can’t wait to marry you.”
His pale eyes widened in surprise. He knew how she’d once felt about marriage. But the minute she’d met him, all that had changed. He had changed everything for her. She couldn’t imagine losing him either. But he was as tough and independent as she was.
They didn’t have to worry about losing each other. They only had to worry about doing their jobs well and making sure their friend didn’t lose anyone he loved either. Like his grandfather or his daughter or the woman he still loved.
Or his own life…
Chapter 19
Cole stared at the people gathered in his grandfather’s room around the bed. This was his family. And one of them was a killer.
Who?
He couldn’t tell just by looking at them. Some of them actually looked concerned over what had happened to the old man. They might just be faking that. Cole studied each of them intently, looking for any flash of remorse. No, not remorse. A person greedy enough to kill a relative for an inheritance wasn’t capable of remorse. He needed to look for disappointment. Whoever poisoned the old man had to be damn disappointed that the attempt failed.
His grandfather had had three sons. Cole’s father was dead, but his uncles, Ronald and Lawrence, were alive and bitterly resentful. Both were divorced, and they each had a couple of kids. Cole’s cousins Bobby and Reggie were Uncle Ronald’s sons, and the twins belonged to Lawrence. Every one of them was bitterly resentful despite living off Grandfather. Of course, Xavier made them work in his business, not that any of them did much to earn their extravagant keep.
Then there was Cole’s mother, who’d moved in with Grandfather after Cole’s dad died and disinherited her. And when Tiffani had remarried, her husband had been welcomed into the fold.
His stepfather, Jeffrey Inman, was probably about as different from Cole’s father as he could possibly be, probably as different as Emery Little had been from Cole. Jeff was quiet and conservative and generally well liked, although Grandfather had never been a big fan. He naturally mistrusted the quiet ones. He must have loved having Manny as his bodyguard at the hospital. And that was where he should have stayed.
Stubborn old fool.
Had Grandfather liked Emery Little? Cole had never asked him. He hadn’t really wanted to know anything about the man Shawna had married. And now he would never have the chance. He felt bad—about Little, and about his stepfather.
Cole didn’t know Jeffrey that well either. He’d been off on a mission when his mother had met the man, apparently through AA meetings although they weren’t supposed to have disclosed that, and then married him. Unlike Cole’s father, Jeffrey Inman had fallen hard and fast for his mother. He seemed to adore her.
Like Emery must have adored Shawna. Why else would he have married her and claimed another man’s child as his?
Cole couldn’t blame him. She was a loving, generous woman. She bustled around his grandfather’s room, totally focused on the old man’s comfort. She was a natural caregiver.
Was that what last night had been about? Cole had saved her life so she’d rewarded him with pleasure? She’d always had such gratitude—even as a little kid, when he’d helped her deal with bullies. Back then she’d just tried to give him her lunch and made him thank you for being my friend cards.
How could one of these people, one of his family, want to hurt her? Didn’t they know how he felt about her?
Then he noticed that they were watching him watch her, and he knew that they knew.
Maybe that was why she was in danger? Not just because she stood between his grandfather and death but because she was an easy way to get back at Cole for inheriting his father’s entire estate. And if they knew about the changes to his grandfather’s will…
“I need to talk to the old man,” Cole told the others. Yet they all just stood there, watching him with hostility. Even his mother.
She was angry with him for some reason. He wasn’t sure what he’d done besides reminding her too much of his father, and he couldn’t change that. He was too much like his father, more even than he had known. But unlike his father, he would make sure nothing happened to his first and only love. He would protect Shawna. He’d thought that was what his grandfather would do, as well.
But the old man had disappointed him. He never should have come back to this house.
“I need to talk to him alone,” Cole said.
Shawna glanced at him before she turned toward his resentful relatives. Then she put her hands on her hips and faced them all down as if she was six foot instead of barely five. “Xavier needs his rest,” she told them. “You all need to leave.”
And remarkably, they listened to her. Cole’s stepfather opened the door and held it for the others. And as he held it, a small person rushed inside and jumped onto the bed with his grandfather.
Xavier was tired but not so weak that he didn’t immediately close his arms around the little girl and pull her close to his chest—to his heart. She’d stolen it, probably years ago, just as she’d stolen Cole’s.
“Grampa X, are you all right?” she asked.
He patted her head. “Yes, my darling. I’m fine. I just ate something I shouldn’t have.”
Poison. It must have been in the cigars. Why else would someone have taken such a risk to get them away from Nikki? Had the killer been worried they’d left prints on something—the coffee can, the cigar bands?
“Did you eat too many cookies?” the little girl asked the old man.
Xavier laughed, although it wasn’t quite as hearty as usual. The stress and the poison had taken their toll. He shouldn’t have left the hospital. “There is no such thing as too many cookies,” he told her with a grin. Then he lowered his voice and whispered not quite softly enough to keep Cole and Shawna from hearing him, “You could go get me a few from the kitchen.”
“No cookies,” Shawna admonished them both. “Grampa needs sleep.” She took her little girl’s hand and guided Maisy off the bed. She gave Cole a pointed glance as she passed him on her way to where Dane waited in the doorway. His friend would protect them both, but the job wasn’t his alone. He had backup.
Cole needed to eliminate the reason they needed protection, though. He needed to find Emery Little’s killer. Once the door closed, he turned on his grandfather.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked. “Why didn’t you stay in the hospital?”
“I didn’t think it was safe,” Xavier said.
“For whom?” Cole asked. “Because it certainly isn’t safer for Shawna and Maisy. I could have taken them home—”
“Home?”
“To River City,” Cole said. “That’s home now.” More home than this estate or this town had ever been for him. “I could have protected them better there.”
“So take them,” Xavier urged him.
Cole shook his head. He already knew an argument would be pointless. “There’s no way Shawna’s leaving you.”
“I’ll fire her.”
“If I thought that would make a difference, I’d tell you to do it,” Cole said. “But she’d still refuse to leave you.” And he understood why. Xavier had stood by her, even after Cole had broken their engagement, Xavier had not abandoned her like everyone else in her life. Cole was grateful for that.
He’d made a horrible mistake when he’d broken their engagement. He hadn’t protected her. He’d hurt her.
Xavier groan
ed.
Cole moved closer to the bed. “Are you all right?”
The old man shook his head. “No. I’m a damn fool,” he berated himself. “I made a horrible mess of things.”
Cole couldn’t lie. “You did.”
“I probably shouldn’t have survived,” Xavier said. “At my age, it’d be no great loss. I’m old.”
But vibrant and aware. “Now you’re talking like a damn fool,” Cole said. “Nobody wants you dead.”
Xavier snorted. “Somebody certainly does.”
Cole reached for the old man’s hand and clasped it in his. He offered a reassuring squeeze. “Not me. Not Shawna and certainly not that little girl.”
Xavier sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean to put you and your family in danger.”
He’d just meant to put them back together. Cole understood the reason behind his manipulations. Unfortunately, the killer would not.
“But if something happens to me, you and Shawna will be in more danger.”
Cole sighed. “I can’t believe you changed your will to that.”
Xavier offered an unrepentant grin. “That you and Shawna inherit everything but only if you get married.”
“It’s crazy,” Cole told him. “And it’s never going to happen.”
“Why not?” Xavier asked. “You can’t tell me it’s because you don’t love her. You do—you loved her from the first moment you saw her and you’ve never stopped.”
It was because Cole loved her that he couldn’t marry her. Loving her would put her in too much danger.
Cole snorted. “I didn’t figure you for this romantic nonsense of soul mates and all that. You’ve been married three times. You must have never had a Natalie.” Or a Shawna.
Grandfather sighed, and he suddenly looked every one of his eighty-six years.
“There’s a story in that sigh,” Cole remarked. “Who was she?”
Grandfather shook his head. “She was never mine. She was married to my old partner, Albert Coleman.”
“Coleman,” he said. “That’s who you named my father after.”
“And you’re named after your father.” Xavier settled back against his pillows.
“He died, right?” Cole asked. “Years ago?”
Xavier nodded. “Heart attack in the office one night. I worked him too hard.”
“Was that what she thought?”
“Edith?” Xavier nodded again. “I think so. She wanted nothing to do with me. She sold me what she’d inherited of the company and took off. I don’t even know where she moved.”
“Then how do you know she was your soul mate?” Cole asked.
Xavier pressed a fist against his heart. “Because I felt it every time I saw her.” He sighed again, wearily. “My heart belonged to her.”
But she had belonged to another. Just like Shawna had once belonged to Emery Little. But like Albert Coleman, Emery was dead now. Would Shawna let Cole back into her heart? Or did it belong to a dead man?
*
Shawna had waited all day for the fight with Cole. The one where he once again demanded that she and Maisy pack up and go to some safe house and she refused. But that argument never came.
She barely even saw him. She stayed close to Xavier, making sure he was well enough to have been released from the hospital. She suspected he’d used his wealth and influence to get the medical clearance to go home. But she was happier having him under her care again. And after what had nearly happened to him, she was extra diligent.
She had no idea where Cole even was. Had he been removed from the assignment? But when she tucked Maisy into bed for the night, he appeared.
Maisy hopped up and declared, “Rematch!”
“Rematch?” Shawna asked. “What?”
“Checkers,” Cole said. “She beat me at checkers several times today.”
He’d been with their daughter?
Maisy laughed and shook her head. “He beat me,” she said. “That’s why I need a rematch.”
“We’re tied right now,” Cole told her. “So we can start tomorrow fresh.”
Shawna’s heart warmed that he was making plans to play with their daughter. The little girl mattered to him. Did Shawna?
“And once you get a good night’s sleep, I’m sure you will beat me every game tomorrow,” he assured her.
Maisy smiled but didn’t deny it as she settled back against her pillows. Cole leaned over her bed, and she wound her thin little arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Daddy,” she murmured sleepily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, sweetheart,” he murmured back, his voice gruff as if emotion choked him. He kissed her forehead and pulled back.
The look on his handsome face as he stared down at the little girl had Shawna closing her eyes against the wave of tears rushing over her. She’d made a horrible mistake—one that it was six years too late to undo.
When she opened her eyes again, he was gone from the room and Maisy was already asleep. She drew in a deep breath before she stepped out into the hall. A new guard stood outside Maisy’s door. Shawna should be relieved that he didn’t look at her with the same judgment as Cole’s friends had. But she found herself more comfortable with them protecting her daughter. She knew they would willingly give up their lives for their friend’s daughter. She wasn’t so sure about this man; he wasn’t as big as Cole’s friends. But then Nikki wasn’t big either. Just fierce.
The man was astute though. He assured her, “I will keep her safe.”
She expelled the breath she’d been holding and murmured, “Thank you,” as she passed him. She wasn’t certain which room to use, Cole’s or the one in which she’d nearly been killed. The door and the jamb had been repaired. She hesitated a moment, her heart beating in her throat, before she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
And like that night when she’d awakened chilled and frightened, she saw a shadow looming in the dark. Before she could utter the scream burning her throat, a light flipped on, and she identified the shadow as Cole.
She pressed a hand to her madly pounding heart. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just making sure the windows were locked.”
She was glad now that she’d chosen her room since he obviously hadn’t intended for her to share his again. Her face flushed with heat as she thought of the night before, how they’d made love. Well, she’d made love because she still loved him. Could he love her again after finding out she’d kept his daughter from him for six years?
“Thank you.” She waited but he didn’t leave.
Instead he stepped closer to her and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “You look exhausted,” he said.
She was—too exhausted to fight her feelings for him. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his muscular chest. She needed him. Needed his strength, his warmth, his forgiveness.
She didn’t ask for any of those things, though. She didn’t ask for anything.
But he gave her his passion. Lowering his head to hers, he kissed her deeply. His mouth moved over hers, his lips nibbling and clinging to hers before his tongue slid between them. He made love to her mouth. Then he lifted and carried her to the bed.
And he made love to her body.
He undressed her slowly and kissed and caressed every inch of her. He swept his tongue across each nipple before closing his lips around it and pulling it into his mouth. The sensation raced through her, and she cried out with pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. He was driving her out of her mind with desire. His fingertips traced every curve of her body, as if he were committing them to memory.
Maybe he was.
She could still remember that last time they’d made love six years ago—how thorough and insatiable he’d been. He must have known then that it would be the last time. She hadn’t. Or she would have paid even more attention.
Like she did now. She kissed him back, tried to unclasp his belt,
but he caught her hands and pulled them away. And he continued to give her pleasure as he moved down her body. His tongue teased her before slipping into her core.
She whimpered as she came. But it wasn’t enough to relieve the tension and the emptiness inside her. Only he could fill her.
Finally he stripped off his clothes. Then he joined her in the madness, joining their bodies, filling that emptiness that had ached for him for so many years.
They moved instinctively—their rhythm matching perfectly—as he thrust and she arched, meeting him each time. Passion claimed her, the tension building inside her until it was unbearable.
The tension broke as an orgasm shuddered through her. She bit her lip to hold back her scream of pleasure and the declaration of love that burned the back of her throat. She couldn’t tell him how she felt for so many reasons. Most especially because she didn’t think he could ever return her feelings again.
While he made love to her, he didn’t love her. He couldn’t—not after what she had done.
*
That ornery old bastard…
How could someone that old be so damned resilient? The poison should have killed him by now. Of course he hadn’t been getting that much of it—thanks to his damn ever-vigilant nurse.
But maybe it was good that he hadn’t died yet.
Thanks to the little girl’s eavesdropping, everybody had learned that ornery old bastard had secretly changed his will just like his son had.
Coleman hadn’t died in vain, though. He had deserved to die, had deserved to give his life for the one he’d taken. But it had been unfortunate that his estate had gone to Cole. It had been even more unfortunate that Cole had survived all those years he’d been a Marine. Everything would have been so much easier if he was dead and not around to play hero to his ex-girlfriend and his grandfather.
At least Xavier, unlike his son, had put a condition on Cole inheriting. He had to marry Shawna. Well, he couldn’t marry a dead woman. Nor could he get married if he was dead.
One of them had to die. Maybe it would be best to kill them both—just to make sure that this time the inheritance was bequeathed to the rightful heirs.
