by Addison Fox
Her words humbled him. All the way down deep, in the places he’d kept buried for so long Donovan had convinced himself they’d finally vanished, was a rising sense of remorse.
Had he been that selfish?
Yes, he had.
Worse, he’d thrown his family’s love back in their faces, claiming that it was somehow less than or unworthy. He’d rejected them and they’d done nothing but love him. The knowledge was humbling. But more than that, it was enlightening.
The reality he’d spent his life running from was the one place where he truly belonged.
* * *
SUTTON TAYLOR SCROLLED through the news on his iPad and tried to make sense of what he was seeing on the screen. He’d felt like warmed-over bull crap for the past month—a sensation that had only grown worse by the day—but he was determined to rally.
Determined to get some of his damn strength back so he could figure out what was going on at his company. Jensen claimed to have everything under control, but if everything was under such tight reins, why did he have four emails on his personal account from longtime distributors asking where their flu vaccines were?
They’d shipped it months ago, the moment the vaccine came off the lines.
How were people out? Worse, he read the supply details himself. Signed the manifests for the eggs they needed to incubate the virus for the vaccines several months ago. They had enough, damn it.
So why was he sitting on multiple emails asking where the supply was? One even complained about pricing, which made no sense. They’d decided that back in March.
Head suddenly fuzzy, Sutton laid his tablet on the rolling tray that had become his constant companion and lay back into the pillows. He was so weak. He had moments of clarity but they were interspersed with long windows of fuzziness when he couldn’t seem to grasp anything.
But he needed to grasp this.
Why were there no vaccines? Where had they gone?
Had he asked Jensen about it? The last time they talked—was it yesterday or today?—had he mentioned it to his boy? Or had he decided to keep it to himself?
The questions roiled in his mind, growing fainter like an echo that died out over the rolling Hill Country, but still he tried to hang on to the threads. Maybe he didn’t ask the question. Maybe he wanted to see if Jensen asked him about suppliers calling looking for their vaccine.
Was that right?
The exhaustion that had dogged him for weeks finally gripped him in sharp claws and Sutton gave in.
He’d think about it tomorrow. He had to feel better tomorrow. It would all be clearer tomorrow.
It had to be.
* * *
BELLAMY STARED OUT the front window of Donovan’s SUV and looked at her house, now lit up as man and dog traipsed through her small haven. Was it safe to go in?
And did she have any choice?
Every time they came home, the routine was the same.
Donovan and Alex had already gotten out to reconfirm the perimeter, then started in on the interior, leaving her with strict instructions to stay inside with locked doors and wait for them to come back. He’d also instructed her to keep her phone in her hand with his number already programmed in and her hand near the horn to quickly alert him to anyone outside.
It was a semicrude warning system, but she figured it would do the job if someone approached.
What she hadn’t quite figured out was what had happened earlier. She’d pressed his buttons on their evening jaunt around Austin, that was for sure.
The real question, upon reflection, was why.
His relationship with his parents was none of her business. And even as she knew that—accepted it—she called BS on it, too. He’d started it all, poking around at her grief with an emotional stick. She’d simply defended herself in the age-old technique learned on the playground.
When mud’s slung at your head, sling it right on back.
Which said very little about her if she was still employing playground tactics as a grown woman.
Donovan opened the front door and waved at her, hollering for her to stay in the car until he got there. She did as he asked and tried to juxtapose the protector marching toward her with the man who’d frustrated her less than an hour ago.
Your life. Your opportunity at happiness. It’s not over because your parents died.
It was the holidays, for heaven’s sake. The holidays were supposed to be hard for people who’d lost loved ones, and this was her first time through them without her mother or her father. A few bright lights and goofy lawn decorations couldn’t change that.
Even if he’d tried really hard to give her something fun to focus on.
That thought caught her up short and whatever playground mud pie she was about to mentally sling died midtoss.
He’d tried.
And didn’t that count for something? Something quite special, if she were being honest.
The door clicked open with his keyless remote and he opened her door. She swung her legs over, but stayed put in her seat.
“All clear. You got the Alex sniff of approval.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s what we do.”
She got out of the car but took his hand before he could move on. “For before. Thank you. You tried to show me a fun evening and I repaid you by saying some unkind things. I’m sorry for that.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“No, I think I do. The past months have been hard. Way harder than I expected, even, and I had more than enough time to prepare for this. But it was nice to escape for a while. To go see something fun and silly and happy.”
The breeze that had swirled all day chose that moment to kick up, a sign that even with the warmer Texas days, it was still winter. She wrapped her arms around her waist at the sudden shot of cold. Donovan took her arms and pulled her close, the heat of his body an immediate balm against the wind. His head bent near hers, not quite touching, and she reveled in the loss of personal space.
A warm, manly scent filled her senses. A bit musky, a bit smoky, it made her think of warm fires on cold nights and she would have happily stood there in his arms for hours, if only for the opportunity to breathe him in.
“I think about the night we met,” she murmured. “Not often, but I have thought about it.”
“I have, too.”
Ribbons of pleasure wrapped around her, delight at his words settling in her chest. “I can still see poor little Alex, sick on a few Legos.”
“He did learn his lesson that night. He rarely picks up anything that’s not food.”
“That’s good.”
“And ensures far fewer messes in my house.”
Once again, Bellamy marveled at how easy and freeing it was to be with Donovan. Their argument in the car had faded, and instead of creating a rift, it gave them another opportunity to connect. One of those small steps that paved the way toward a relationship.
Could something good come out of this confusing time? The small tingle that hovered beneath her skin reinforced just how much she hoped that might be possible.
A whisper of sound echoed from the direction of the darkened street and Donovan shifted, instantly alert. He pressed her back into the open car door before looking around, Alex leaping to attention. When man and dog remained still, neither moving, Bellamy whispered, “What is it?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s get inside.”
Her home was small, the driveway a modest distance from the front door. She often ran the length when she came home during a rainstorm and unless it was a soaker, rarely got too wet. But suddenly the stretch between the car and the front door seemed endless.
“I’ll walk behind you and cover you to the front door.”
“You can
’t—” She stilled at his unyielding gaze.
“Behind you. Let’s go.”
Bellamy respected his wishes, nerves racing the length of her spine and back again as she moved swiftly toward the front door. If something really was out there, wouldn’t Alex have already started barking?
The thought had barely had time to land when a loud clatter cracked through the air, lighting up the night with noise. Donovan crushed her body to his before dropping them to the ground, absorbing the impact with his body.
Her breath whooshed out on a hard burst as Donovan quickly rolled over her, continuing to shield her with the length of his body. The heavy weight pressed her before it vanished. Then, before she could even register the rapid sensory changes, Donovan hollered instructions as he raced down the driveway, Alex at his heels. “Into the house, Bellamy! Now!”
She did as he asked, even as worry for him and Alex nearly blinded her as she fumbled her way through the front door. The precautions he’d taken to sweep the house upon their return had seemed silly at the time but now gave comfort. Her home was free of traps.
On the inside.
But an intruder lurked outside, and they seemed determined to find her, no matter where she was.
* * *
DONOVAN FOLLOWED ALEX, his partner’s nose down and his focus solely on the hunt. Donovan kept up a steady stream of instructions to keep Alex focused on the scent, yet by his side. He didn’t want to let him go and risk getting his partner shot.
The gunshots had been a surprise and they shouldn’t have been. Nothing about this situation should be a surprise. Yet for reasons that defied description, the faceless threat to Bellamy continued to catch Donovan off guard.
She’d been targeted by a killer and it was time he not only accepted that fact, but took it for the serious threat it was. The crude construction of the bombs might suggest an amateur, but it also denoted determination, focus and a willingness to get the nefarious job done.
The escalation to gunshots only reinforced that determination.
He’d learned long ago that second-guessing himself in the middle of an op was the quickest way to lose focus, but the recriminations continued to pound in time with his steps. They’d been so focused on understanding why Bellamy was a target and what she might possibly know about the inner workings of LSP that they’d lost sight of the bigger concern.
Maybe she was simply the scapegoat.
The thought chilled him, but as the idea took shape and form in his mind, it grew clearer and more defined. By all accounts, the email that started this all shouldn’t have even found its way to her. HR had paid no attention to her claims or even given her the benefit of due process. And perhaps the most telling, the initial attack against her happened on LSP property.
Everything centered on Lone Star Pharmaceutical and someone operating from behind its walls.
The online search earlier around Sutton Taylor played through his mind. Was the founder behind this? He’d built a successful company and could easily be maneuvering something like this from a distance. Money bought influence but it also bought professionals to do your dirty work.
Yet the job had smacked of an amateur from the start.
He paced behind Alex, moving off into the wooded area that surrounded her property line. He’d already reholstered his gun when they’d arrived back at Bellamy’s home to do the property sweep and he kept a firm handle on it now. Even with that layer of protection, he was exposed. They’d barely cleared the woods when he called Alex to a halt.
He wanted to find his quarry but he was no good to Bellamy if he and Alex became sitting ducks for someone who saw them far more clearly than they could in return.
Alex stilled immediately, his training outweighing even the lure of the scent. With careful steps, Donovan backed them toward the road, his gaze roaming the area before him. Other than the briefest glimpse of their prey shortly after the gunshots, he had been totally blind to their assailant’s whereabouts.
As his foot hit macadam, Donovan gave one final scan of the area. Then he turned and ran, zigzagging across the road to make himself harder to sight.
He didn’t stop until he reached Bellamy’s front door.
* * *
JENSEN LOWERED THE night vision goggles and watched the cop disappear into the night. The other hand that held the gun still trembled at his side, the realization the man had a dog an unexpected development. Those beasts knew scents and now the animal had his.
And that wasn’t even his biggest problem. He knew the cop and remembered him from growing up in the same town.
Donovan Colton.
They hadn’t been in school together, but everyone in town knew the Coltons. The Colton family regularly competed for their share of Whisperwood headlines, especially because of their black sheep cousins who lived a few towns over in Shadow Creek. Hays Colton had always downplayed that branch of the family, but family was family.
Wasn’t that what this was all about, anyway?
He was the rightful heir to LSP. The company was his and nothing would stop him from securing his legacy.
Bellamy Reeves had been the perfect target. But as he watched Donovan Colton fade into the night, he knew the game had just taken on a new dimension. Cops didn’t drive their caseloads around town in their cars. Nor did they hover over them in ways that suggested a far more intimate relationship than that of a protector.
But what were the odds?
The question both amused and frustrated as Jensen considered Donovan Colton. The man was a bright, shining example of why Jensen had started on this path to begin with.
It was time to go to ground, regroup and figure out how to manage this added dimension. He needed more information about Colton.
And then he’d take out the woman and the man who’d become her shadow.
Chapter Ten
Bellamy had hot coffee waiting and about a million questions.
“Are you okay? What happened? Was someone out there? I didn’t hear any more gunshots.”
Donovan had braced for the questions but hadn’t prepared himself for the rush of need that poured through him at the sight of her.
“Donovan? Did you see anyone?”
With careful movements, he ensured his gun was safely holstered and removed the piece, setting it on the middle of her dining room table next to the mug of coffee. He scanned the room, pleased to see the curtains were already drawn on all the windows. Then he released Alex so his partner could get to the water and food that already occupied a place of prominence on Bellamy’s kitchen floor.
Only when he’d done all that and realized his blood still pounded and his hands still shook with nervous energy did Donovan take what he needed. On a groan, he reached for her and dragged her close, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her. She was safe. Whole.
Untouched.
“Donovan.” His name was a whisper where she brushed her lips against his hair. “You’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He moved fast, the moment of comfort flashing over to a desperate, achy need that threatened to consume him as he took her mouth. She matched him, her lips meeting his in immediate surrender. He captured her hands, linking his fingers with hers, and gave the mutual need between them free rein.
There was power in the surrender, he realized as the kiss spun out. A power he’d never known or understood before. Dating. Relationships. All that had come before had been satisfying, yet functional.
But for Bellamy he burned.
Passion flared and Donovan kept his hold tight as he moved them both toward the couch. Dropping to the soft, well-worn cushions, he held her close as he draped her over his body so she straddled his lap. Their bodies pressed together intimately, a sign she was real and gloriously, physically present.
By
unspoken agreement they never broke the connection of their lips, even as each explored the other. Her hands roamed over his chest, smoothing the lines of his T-shirt before dipping to pull the material from the waistband of his cargos. It gave easily, slipping over his body as her hands tugged the cotton higher and higher.
They broke the kiss only long enough for her to slip the shirt over his head, her mouth returning to his as her hands moved unerringly over his skin. Her explorations were tentative at first but grew bolder as the tips of her fingers circled the flat area of his nipples. Shots of heat moved from his chest to his groin, insistent darts of pleasure that both fulfilled even as they demanded more.
He wanted all of her.
But for the moment, he’d settle for touching her, feeling her skin beneath his fingers and pressing her to his chest.
His hands traveled the same path as hers, dragging the silk of her shirt from her slacks before shifting to work the line of buttons. One by one, those small pearls fell away to reveal soft skin. He grazed the swells of her breasts over the cups of her bra, the demands of his body building ever higher, ever tighter.
He wanted her. With everything he was, he wanted this woman who was so warm and responsive in his arms. Yet it was because he wanted her so much that he needed to hold back.
But heaven help him, he couldn’t stay away from her.
Just a few minutes more. A bit more time to share what flared to life between them and reassure himself she was safe. A few more touches would hold him.
They’d have to.
His hands roamed over her breasts, the weight of her flesh heavy in his palms. He moved his thumbs over her nipples, the sensual play drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
The knowledge they needed to stop—that whatever flared to life when they were together couldn’t be acted on further—nearly vanished like smoke at what pulsed and demanded between them. Donovan nearly gave in—nearly acquiesced to desire—when a loud bark echoed through Bellamy’s living room.
