“We need to get something clear right now, Tara.”
Brad’s words were very matter-of-fact, his attitude all business. “I expect to have my instructions obeyed without hesitation or questions. Your life could depend on your immediate response to my orders.”
Tara glared angrily at him, but he stood his ground and refused to back down. Brad Harrison had her confused. He was a virtual stranger who had burst uninvited into her world, tried to take control of her life and demanded that she trust him. Yet his unwavering gaze sent a ripple of desire through her body unlike anything she had ever experienced. There was a lot more at stake here than a question of control.
Every time he touched her, a sensual rush coursed through her body. It was totally inappropriate for the situation and equally out of character for her. But for reasons she could not clearly fathom, she had made the decision to tentatively trust this very sexy and desirable man. Hopefully it would not be the biggest mistake of her life…or worse yet, the last decision she would ever make.
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
Harlequin Intrigue has four new stories to blast you out of the winter doldrums. Look what we’ve got heating up for you this month.
Sylvie Kurtz brings you the first in her two-book miniseries FLESH AND BLOOD. Fifteen years ago, a burst of anger by the banks of the raging Red Thunder River changed the lives of two brothers forever. In Remembering Red Thunder, Sheriff Chance Conover struggles to regain the memory of his life, his wife and their unborn baby before a man out for revenge silences him permanently.
You can also look for the second book in the four-book continuity series MORIAH’S LANDING—Howling in the Darkness by B.J. Daniels. Jonah Ries has always sensed something was wrong in Moriah’s Landing, but when he accidentally crashes Kat Ridgemont’s online blind date, he realizes the tough yet fragile beauty has more to fear than even the town’s superstitions.
In Operation: Reunited by Linda O. Johnston, Alexa Kenner is on the verge of marriage when she meets John O’Rourke, a man who eerily resembles her dead lover, Cole Rappaport, who died in a terrible explosion. Could they be one and the same?
And finally this month, one by one government witnesses who put away a mob associate have been killed, with only Tara Ford remaining. U.S. Deputy Marshal Brad Harrison vows to protect Tara by placing her In His Safekeeping—by Shawna Delacorte.
We hope you enjoy these books, and remember to come back next month for more selections from MORIAH’S LANDING and FLESH AND BLOOD!
Sincerely,
Denise O’Sullivan
Associate Senior Editor
Harlequin Intrigue
IN HIS SAFEKEEPING
SHAWNA DELACORTE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shawna Delacorte has delayed her move to Washington State, staying in the Midwest in order to spend some additional time with family. She still travels as often as time permits, and is looking forward to visiting several new places during the upcoming year while continuing to devote herself to writing full-time. Shawna would appreciate hearing from her readers. She can be reached at 6505 E. Central #300, Wichita, KS 67206-1924.
Books by Shawna Delacorte
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
412—LOVER UNKNOWN
520—SECRET LOVER
656—IN HIS SAFEKEEPING
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Brad Harrison—Has this Deputy U.S. Marshal uncovered a diabolical plot or is it just a series of odd coincidences?
Tara Ford—Is she really in danger, and if so, can she trust her life to this handsome stranger?
Shirley Bennett—Is she really the efficient employee she seems to be, or does she have a separate agenda?
Judy Lameroux—Is Tara’s new co-worker the friend she pretends to be, or does she have an ulterior motive for her kindness?
Thom Satterly—Has his stalled career with the Marshals Service pushed him into a life of crime?
Ralph Newman—Has this Deputy U.S. Marshal’s mounting gambling debts put him into a compromising position with the people he owes?
Ken Walsh—Is this retired Deputy U.S. Marshal the friend and mentor Brad Harrison thinks he is?
Danny Vincent—Is Tara Ford’s ex-fiancé responsible for the strange happenings that have plagued her?
Doreen Vincent—Is John Vincent’s only child following the same crime-strewn path as her father?
To Marilee
We’ll all miss you
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
A car pulled into the driveway, drawing Brad Harrison’s attention back to the house he had been watching. The woman climbing out of the car matched his photograph of Tara Ford and then some. The photo definitely did not do her justice. For one thing, it was only a head shot and didn’t reveal the fantastic body that went along with that gorgeous face. He scanned her personal information in his file—twenty-nine years old, five foot seven, auburn hair, hazel eyes and not married.
He watched as she bent over to retrieve the sack of groceries from the trunk of her car. Her tailored slacks hugged the curve of her hip without being obvious and the soft knit of her sweater rested gently against her breasts. He took a deep breath to break the tightness that pulled across his chest, but it didn’t help much.
She was certainly beautiful, but that didn’t tell him how she got involved with John Vincent. Was she really the innocent bystander she claimed to be or was she…
He snapped to attention, quickly dismissing his personal thoughts and becoming all business when he saw her nervously glance up and down the street. He unzipped his jacket for easy access to the 9mm semiautomatic handgun, but did not remove it from the clip-on belt holster. Her gaze fell on him for a second or two, causing him to crease his forehead in concentration. She appeared to be searching for something, her apprehension marring her delicately sculpted features. It was not the type of thing he would expect from someone who didn’t have any worries.
The tension knotted in his stomach as he continued to watch her house. The uncertainty of how to proceed weighed heavily on him. The last remnants of daylight faded. He had seen everything he could. He started his car and slowly pulled away from the curb with his headlights off.
TARA FORD CAUTIOUSLY peeked out from behind the miniblinds at the kitchen window. The man who had been sitting in the car parked across the street was gone. She wished she had gotten a better look at his face, but was afraid to stare for fear he would suspect she had noticed him. For the past few weeks she had been plagued by an uncomfortable sensation that someone was watching her, but this was the first time she had actually seen who it might be.
She wanted to believe it was her imagination, a residual effect from the turmoil of being one of the key witnesses at John Vincent’s trial. Her portion of the testimony dealt with information she had discovered while employed by Green Valley Construction—the looting of his company’s pension fund and the income he had hidden from the Internal Revenue Service. But the testimony of other witnesses showing his bookmaking operation, loan-sharking and ties to organized crime had come as a complete surprise to her. That had been six months ago. John Vincent had been convicted and sent to prison. For a while everything seemed to be okay. She thought she had put the nightmare behind her. A little tremor of anxiety rippled across her skin. She
wasn’t so sure anymore.
The ringing phone startled her out of her thoughts. She placed her hand on the receiver, then froze as a shiver of trepidation darted up her back. She was sure it was another of those calls where someone was there but no one said anything. She had been plagued with a rash of them over the past few weeks. On the fifth ring she finally picked up the receiver. The apprehension churned in her stomach before she could even say anything.
“Hello.” She heard someone breathing. She spoke louder, trying to force a calm control to her voice. “Hello…is anyone there?”
“Tara…it’s Danny.”
The shock left her momentarily speechless. Danny Vincent. John Vincent’s thirty-four-year-old nephew—and her ex-fiancé.
An odd combination of irritation and relief passed through her. It wasn’t her anonymous caller, but it was the last person she wanted to hear from. Her displeasure forced its way into her voice. “How did you get my unlisted phone number?”
“Well, I have to admit that it took a little doing. First I had to find out where you had moved.”
Her anxiety level increased. “Have you been following me and making anonymous phone calls?”
“Following you? Anonymous phone calls? What are you talking about? I only discovered where you were living a few days ago and just got your phone number yesterday.”
Her exasperation traveled the phone line as she spoke. “What do you want, Danny?”
“I thought we might have dinner. Are you free tomorrow night?”
“No. I’m not free tomorrow night or any other night. It’s over between us. I thought that should have been obvious when I broke off our engagement.”
“Just a friendly little dinner. Surely that couldn’t hurt anything.”
A new wariness rose inside her. Why now? Why after all this time should he suddenly have the urge to track her down and want to have dinner? Especially when her testimony at his uncle’s trial helped get him convicted.
“No…no dinner, friendly or otherwise. Please don’t call me again.” She hung up without waiting for a response. Even though she had broken off the engagement three years ago, she and Danny had still come in contact periodically due to the fact that they both worked for his uncle, although Danny wasn’t in the office very often. But she hadn’t seen or talked to him since the day she quit her job at Green Valley Construction and agreed to testify against John Vincent.
A sick feeling welled inside her, one laced with trepidation. Could Danny possibly be the person responsible for harassing her? An attempt to get back at her for testifying against his uncle? Perhaps combined with some residual anger over her having broken their engagement? A show of anger certainly wasn’t anything unusual for Danny Vincent. Nor was there anything new about his desire to control everything—including her. It had been bad enough to have to put up with her mother’s manipulations for so many years, but when Danny started doing the same type of thing to her she knew she needed to get out of the relationship.
She had refused to put up with his outbursts when she objected to him making decisions for her. The final straw had been when he canceled hotel and flight reservations she had made for her vacation without even consulting her. She had been angry with him and he had responded by actually threatening her. Five minutes later their relationship was finished and she had told him she wanted nothing to do with him again.
Then her mother had started in with her incessant nagging and criticism, this time about how Tara should have forgiven Danny. After all, one day he would probably own Green Valley Construction and Tara would have a comfortable life. That had been a pivotal downturning point in her rapidly declining relationship with her mother and the impetus for her vow never to allow anyone to have any control over her life again.
So, what had prompted Danny to call her? And why now after so much time had passed? The headache throbbed at her temples. Her hand trembled as she turned on the water and reached for a glass. She took two aspirin, then leaned back against the counter and closed her eyes.
Every day of late had become a new experience in the bizarre and stressful. Her personal life had been a tangled mess ever since the day she had agreed to testify at John Vincent’s trial. She had become leery of strangers and fearful about going out alone at night. She had started to feel as if she was a prisoner in her own home.
All six of the primary witnesses against John Vincent had been threatened and were put under the protection of the U.S. Marshals Service for the duration of the trial. A couple of weeks ago she had thought about contacting the marshals to ask for protection again, but decided against it. What could she say to them? She didn’t have any proof, only an unsubstantiated feeling that something was very wrong. Were her concerns real or only her imagination? It was a frightening place to be, caught in the middle between her unconfirmed fears on one side and what might be real danger on the other.
She took a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then slowly exhaled in an attempt to bring a calm to her inner turmoil. She had survived the threats before the trial and taken charge of her life. She certainly wasn’t going to let this get the better of her. Then the phone rang again. Apprehension surged through her body followed by a sinking feeling. Her throat started to close off. She took another swallow of water and quickly switched on the answering machine. Anonymous caller or Danny Vincent—either way she didn’t want to answer it.
She nervously paced back and forth between the living room and kitchen. She needed a security system for the house…she needed a large watchdog…she needed a gun. She stopped pacing. A gun? Had she totally lost her mind? A gun meant violence and said that someone could be hurt…or worse yet, killed. That was definitely not what she needed and certainly the last thing she wanted in her house or in her life.
She gathered her determination. What she really needed was to get her anxieties under control and stop making more out of the circumstances than they deserved. She had let her imagination run away with her common sense. She took a calming breath in an attempt to settle the jittery sensation churning inside her, then opened the refrigerator and took out some lettuce and a tomato to make a salad.
After eating dinner, she watched television for a bit then took a book to bed and read for a while until she became drowsy. But sleep eluded her. Troubled thoughts kept taking her to the car that had been parked across the street and the man who seemed to be watching her house. An uneasiness burrowed its way into her consciousness. The more she tried to ignore it, the stronger it pushed at her. Had he returned? Was he watching her house again?
The uncertainty forced her out of bed. She made her way through the darkened house and peeked out the living-room window. Everything looked normal, yet her concern refused to leave. She finally managed a few hours of troubled sleep.
BRAD SPENT a restless night. He had tossed and turned, his mind refusing to relinquish the onslaught of thoughts, foremost of which was what to do about Tara Ford. It continued to plague him as he drove to work. He had a busy morning, lots of details to take care of that had nothing to do with the immediacy of his Tara Ford problem. But even though he stayed physically busy, his thoughts were never very far from her and the mental image that had burned into his mind.
At lunchtime he drove to Tara’s place of employment, parked his car, then continued on foot. There were several places to have lunch within a two-block area of her office and he intended to check them all, hoping she hadn’t elected to have lunch at her desk. The third place he tried proved successful. He peered in the window of the deli and spotted her seated at a table with an attractive blond woman in her early thirties. He took in Tara’s sleek form and beautiful face.
His throat tightened and his mouth went dry, causing him to bristle with irritation. It had been a long time since he had come up against this type of involuntary physical reaction to any woman. He didn’t seem to have any control over it, something inexcusable for a man whose very life depended on maintaining control not only of himself, bu
t everything that went on around him.
He collected his composure and entered the deli. He ordered a sandwich, then made his way across the room, smiling politely when she looked up at him. He selected a booth far enough away that he wasn’t right next to her but close enough to hear her conversation.
While eating his lunch he eavesdropped on the two women, their conversation telling him that they worked together. They discussed a work situation that had occurred at the office that morning, talked about a movie they had seen and discussed the latest best-selling book. The choice of topics was ordinary. The women appeared to be nothing more than two friends having lunch together. The only thing contradicting the outward appearance was the way Tara nervously eyed everyone who entered the deli. She seemed every bit as edgy as when she’d carried in her sack of groceries from her car. He had nothing to compare her actions with, no knowledge of how she behaved before the John Vincent case, but she did seem anxiety ridden.
He also found her much more beautiful up close than at a distance, so much so that she nearly knocked him for a loop. The physical attraction was immediate. He tried to shrug it off as being the understandable allure of a beautiful woman. Probably nothing more than the fact that it had been several months since he’d had a date. At least he wanted to believe that was all there was to it.
The two women left the deli. He noted that the blond woman was about the same height as Tara, maybe an inch shorter. His gaze became riveted to Tara’s retreating form. He studied the way she moved as she walked toward the door, a smooth graceful walk almost reminiscent of a dancer. He lingered on the way her clothes fit her body and the glossy highlights of her auburn hair. The heat of desire settled low in his body in defiance of his controlled outer calm. After taking a steadying breath, Brad followed her out the door and watched as the two women walked back toward their office.
In His Safekeeping Page 1
