by Sheila Kell
Angel raced to the bedroom door with her tail wagging fast enough to generate wind power.
Rylee shook her head, snatched a hair clip from the dresser and opened the door prepared to take back control of her safe haven.
She didn’t have to turn in his direction to know that Devon sat at the kitchen bar with a cup of coffee and an open laptop. She caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Besides, her body gave a frustrating, light tingle to his presence. Muttering a quick, “Good morning,” she didn’t stop on her way to let Angel outside so the dog could relieve herself. No matter how bold and strong she told herself she was, being alone with Devon frightened her deep inside. His presence challenged her resolve.
A chilly gust of wind slapped her in the face when she closed the front door of the cabin behind her and she involuntarily shivered. Angel bolted to the tree line and sniffed around until she found a spot worthy of squatting. After the dog completed that task, she raced back to the door, eager to return inside.
Rylee took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and they entered the cabin with Angel rushing in to confront Devon.
“We need to talk.” Devon quirked one side of his mouth as if fighting a smile. “Mrs. Hamilton.”
Her heart lurched at the name. Damn him! Why couldn’t he have just signed the damn papers and been done with it? What did he want? She sighed, knowing there was only one way to find out and it wasn’t to flee. She had to sit with him and talk. Then, she’d take him to the airport.
Resigned, she walked to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee in an “I don’t do fashion. I AM fashion” mug to allow herself more time to bolster her confidence. She reached into the refrigerator and withdrew her French vanilla creamer, doctored her coffee with it and then blew on the coffee before taking a sip of the warm, strong liquid. “Okay.”
His gaze slid over her from head to toe, leaving a warm awakening in its path. “I wish I remembered you, Rylee.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t remember everything either, so we’re even,” she retorted.
He cocked his head in question. “If you didn’t remember the night, how did you know we’re married? I have the license.”
She unintentionally looked down at her bare left hand. “I didn’t know until I settled on the airplane and saw the wedding band on my finger. Somehow I’d missed it before then.” Probably because she’d been in a rush to escape.
In for a nickel, in for a pound. Whatever the hell that phrase meant. She looked back to him and continued, “I didn’t know who you were at the time. I had to do a little digging to find out since you didn’t come around right away searching for me.”
An unsettling silence hovered in the air. Too much had been lost between them. Actually, all that was between them had been lost.
“I guess you didn’t give me a ring to remember you by.” His eyes gleamed with humor as he scooted his chair back and gracefully stood. “I can assure you of this,” he said and stepped closer to her, “had I remembered, I’d have been there without delay.”
An ache formed deep in the center of her chest, and she almost whimpered at what could’ve been. Resolved to regain her life, she took a stand. “Look, it appears neither of us remembers what happened that night or why we lost our heads and got married. All the more reason to get the annulment. We were unaware of our actions. Why can’t you just sign the papers and end this farce? Then I can take you to the airport, and we can get on with our lives.”
He halted and allowed a wicked smile to spread across his face. The damn man was enjoying this. How had it come to that? Didn’t he see they’d made a mistake and there was only one easy way to rectify it? People didn’t meet, immediately marry and live happily ever after. Surely, any idiot knew that.
“There’s still the matter of you hitting me on the head with a lamp.”
“How?” she croaked out in a nervous voice. Realizing her inadvertent admission, she cleared her throat and pressed on. No reason to lie since Kate might’ve told him the truth. “How did you know I did that? I thought you didn’t remember.”
He quirked an eyebrow in an all-knowing gesture that pissed her off.
“I didn’t know for certain—until just now.”
“What do you want? It can’t be me. You don’t even know me,” she stated and her forgotten coffee sloshed over the top of the cup and scalded her thumb and the area surrounding it. She turned away, set the mug down and ran cold water over her hand. His light touch on her hand had her almost jumping out of her skin.
“Let me see.” He turned her hand so he could survey the burn under the running water.
She froze, her breath catching in her throat, and her pulse took on a frantic race through her veins. He was too damn close. Her mind screamed, “Flee,” and she couldn’t fight it even though she’d sworn she wouldn’t do it again. She yanked her hand from him. “It’s fine.” Then she sprinted to the doorway. Taking him to the airport or talking things out flew from her mind. “I’m going for a hike. You can come or not.” What the hell is wrong with me? The last thing I want is him following me around.
Angel appeared and pushed out the entry with Rylee. She closed it behind her, trying not to care if Devon followed or not. When she made it to the tree line, the slamming of the cabin door reverberated through the clearing behind her. A few moments later, she heard him enter the trail on her heels. His persistence made her smile to herself, and then it quickly vanished when she realized she still didn’t know what he wanted. She also didn’t know if she should continue on this trek with him behind her. She just needed to see if the girls were there.
A hand grabbed her upper arm, halting her forward movement. She spun around and Devon’s concerned gaze hit her in the gut. “Rylee, stop for a moment. Tell me what the hell is going on? Why are you really hiding out here?”
She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to trust him, but since he refused to leave her alone, maybe he could help her. He did work at HIS. Then again, maybe he’d decide to bring in the FBI. All at once the burden she’d been carrying became too heavy to bear alone. A niggling sensation told her that she needed someone, whether she wished to admit it or not. Kate said to trust him so she would give it a try and pray she hadn’t made another bad choice with him.
The only drawback was that they’d have to spend more time together. She’d have to risk whatever happened because she needed someone to have her back. “What do you do with HIS?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, and his intense focus reached to her soul. “I’m the computer guy. If they need it, I find it—whether it’s equipment or information. What does that have to do with anything?”
Just the backup she needed. Research was her weak spot. She had to take this leap, for the sake of the girls. “Follow me.” She pulled her arm from his grasp and led him in silence for a couple of miles and through several trails until they broke out onto a ledge.
His appreciative whistle matched her regard of the area. “The view is breathtaking.”
Her mind couldn’t focus on the splendor of color bursting through the forests along the mountain ridges. Only the dwelling below held her attention. She pointed a finger to a house in the middle of the canyon. “They’re there.”
He squinted to view where Rylee had directed his gaze. “Who’s there?”
“Misty and Mandy.”
“And they are?”
“Two girls about to be sold into sex slavery who I’m going to rescue.”
Emotions washed over his face, and it concerned her that she couldn’t grasp any particular one, except the brief flash of anger. “How sure are you about this?” he asked in a slow, measured voice, and she wondered how hard it had been to control it.
She bit down on the left side of her lip and hated she had to admit the truth. “I’ve not had time to check the house to ensure they’re there. But, I’ve gone through Dave Westbrook’s phone and have checked out the other addresses he’s traveled to.
This one has to be it.”
“Dave Westbrook? The guy who was killed with the ICE agent?”
When she nodded, he continued in a near rant, “Goddammit, Rylee! How the hell did you end up with his phone? And”—his voice rose with each word—“what do you mean you’ve checked out the other addresses?”
The mild, sensual man who’d arrived had disappeared. This man appeared ready to rip someone’s head off, and she was in his direct path. “I’ll tell you all about it if you agree to help me.”
Devon took his time scanning the area from the woods, trails, and mountains surrounding them to the canyon with a large ranch house on it below, and, presumably, two girls in need of their help. When he finally spoke, Rylee had almost given up hope he’d agree. “All right.” He turned to her and waited until she looked him in the eye. The angry man had vanished and a calm, calculating one replaced him. “On one condition. We’ll get to know each other and see if we can salvage our marriage.”
With a ton of disparaging words on her tongue, she surprised herself with the question that left her mouth. “Why do you want to stay married to me so badly?”
His eyes raked over her face as if attempting to read her thoughts. “Because, there had to be a reason I married you. I intend to find out.” He raised his eyebrows in question. “Now, are we agreed?”
She considered her choice of doing this alone, and maybe failing again, or doing this with help, even though he was the last person she wanted to be near. Her shoulders sagged, knowing what she had to do. The girls’ lives trumped her happiness in every way. She’d use Devon to help her and then, after he realized she had no intention of remaining married to someone who would extort her like he was, she’d be able to send him packing.
That begrudgingly decided, she nodded and released a long, suffering sigh. “Fine. You help me rescue the girls, and I’ll give our marriage a chance. But,” she emphasized the word while balling her hands into fists, “no one else is involved in our search until I say so.” The last thing she wanted was this area to be crawling with people and scaring off the girls’ captor. Besides, after two failed home searches, she preferred not to look like an idiot if the girls weren’t there. And, if they were, she wouldn’t argue about bringing in help to rescue them. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could do it alone. “Oh,” she said as an afterthought as she turned back to the trail, “there will be no sex.”
IF THE SITUATION hadn’t been so serious, Devon would’ve bust out laughing loud enough to scare away woodland creatures for miles at Rylee’s stubborn, parting words. But, he thought as he turned from watching her luscious backside stalk away from him, then his humor faded and he tightened his lips, the situation was dead serious. Damn! I need my ass kicked for demanding such an exchange when someone needed help.
The moment she mentioned the possibility of girls being held captive, he knew he’d help find them, no matter the cost. He couldn’t abide by such cruelty as selling girls into slavery of any sort. Any man who walked away from this type of situation needed his balls cut off.
So why had he pushed her to agree to his plan? Hell, even he knew it wasn’t the way to win her heart. Yet, there was the crux of it all—he wanted her heart. He’d hate to live his life with someone who didn’t love him. Maybe he hadn’t had her heart when they’d married. He didn’t know if she’d had his either.
This entire scenario read like a bad dream that only got worse with the introduction of the girls.
Devon turned back to the breathtaking view of the mountains and took in the land, home, and barn in the small valley before him in a new, critical light. If, and that was a big if because Rylee didn’t appear completely confident, there were girls in trouble down there, he wouldn’t even attempt to rescue them without his brothers. They were the muscle of HIS. Her not wanting help bothered him. Something wasn’t right and he had to find out as quickly as possible.
The thought of the girls being sold sent bile climbing up the back of his throat, and he swallowed in an attempt to keep it down. He had to find a way to change Rylee’s mind about accepting help, which would put a big damper on his plans to remain alone with her and their getting to know each other. Without a doubt though, this came first. His love life, or lack thereof, could wait.
One thing that did lighten his spirits was that she chose to tell him why she was here, include him and ask for his help. Either she was considerably desperate or she trusted him, at least somewhat. He smiled to himself. He could work with that.
Turning back, he followed the path she’d left while planning his next moves. Information was golden and he wanted it now. Who owned the home? What about the homeowners? How did they fit with the Westbrooks? He needed aerial views. He needed stuff from his office.
A movement a foot in front of him startled Devon, and he stopped dead in his tracks. A black snake, maybe three feet long, slithered across his path, weaving its long body back and forth with the leaves softly rustling underneath its movement. He’d never been the outdoorsy type and didn’t care to come face-to-face with creatures that could kill. He had no idea what type of snake it was and that could be a problem in the future. After the snake cleared his vision, he looked around the area. Did they have bears up here? He had to know what else inhabited these woods if they would be hiking through them. He didn’t need more threats to protect her from.
His shoulders slumped, and he dropped his head in defeat. There he was again with the desire to protect Rylee and his knowledge that he was unable to do so. He’d have to convince her to bring in the family.
Arriving back at the cabin with a plan in mind, Devon slid through the doorway, ready to rest his weary body as the several hour hike had kicked his butt. Rylee waited patiently at the wooden dining table with a bottle of water nestled in her hands as if she hadn’t exerted herself as he had.
He needed to tell her that he wouldn’t hold her to his requirement for help and that he needed the family behind them. After this was over, he’d find a way to see if they belong together.
Her eyes, dull and emotionless, rose and met his. “I’m sure you have questions.” She stood and turned to the refrigerator, her back stiff. “Sit. I’ll get you some water and we can talk. Coffee is brewing.”
Angel whined, and he looked down and smiled at the dog. He petted her and trudged to the table feeling every bit the heel he’d been. He’d driven her to be like this… this unfeeling, robotic woman.
The chair legs screeched against the wood flooring as he pulled it from the table. Accepting the plastic bottle, he slid down into the seat across from where she returned to her seat. “Rylee—” He took a deep, fortifying breath ready to tackle the toughest issue first. “I’m sorry. I want to help you.”
She narrowed her eyes a fraction and held his gaze. A tiny light flickered in her eyes. Hope?
He was about to smash it. Damn this sucked. “However, I think we need help.”
She jumped from her chair and any semblance of what he’d thought he’d seen in her eyes changed to fear. What the hell was going on? “No!”
“Rylee,” he said with as much patience as he could muster, “what’s the problem with getting help?”
The heaving of her chest told him of her fear. He couldn’t imagine why she didn’t want more help though. Not if the girls were truly at that house. That thought twisted in his mind that maybe she’d lied and there was another reason for this that she didn’t want to share.
“Look, if others get involved, the FBI will surely find out I’m here and want to speak with me.”
He saw no need to inform her that the FBI, at least their deputy director, probably already knew her location. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man hadn’t tracked their movements. Thankfully, Kate kept him at bay. “This isn’t about you though. Why not get them involved in finding these girls?”
She shrunk before his eyes, and it made him want to surge from his chair and carry her somewhere and hold her on his lap and comfort her. Instead,
he watched her sit and gather her strength. This went much deeper than girls being held captive.
Devon listened to Rylee share the story of her undercover assignment, how she’d taken the girls’ protection personally and how they had disappeared. The FBI hadn’t seemed to care and she didn’t believe they’d care now. Not until she had proof. That was what she was seeking.
“And just how did you plan to go about getting this proof?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know her answer.
She stiffened as if he’d slapped her. “The same way I proved the other houses were clean.”
He placed his elbows on the table, connected his hands and leaned his forehead on it. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to calm himself. She’d obviously been putting herself in danger, and it wrenched at him that she could’ve been killed if she’d been dealing with such unsavory elements. “What other houses?” He didn’t look up at her, just stared blankly at the wooden table. His thoughts whirled with all she’d told him before about the situation. He fought to remain calm because he knew he wouldn’t like her answer. When she didn’t respond, he looked up at her and realized she’d been waiting for his attention.
She spread her palms on the table and studied them intently. “Okay, remember what I told you about the car accident?”
He raised his eyebrows in response. He knew she’d been hiding something. “Yes.”
“Well, I got into the limo because Dave told me he knew where the girls were. Then, when we were riding, he said that he had them hidden with a partner.”
“Son of a bitch. And, he had you in that car?” Holy hell. Fear slid its nasty way through him, leaving a cold shiver in its wake. They’d planned to kill her. He’d thought it bad enough the bastard had told her he planned to restart his father’s business. There would’ve been no other reason for the man to tell her about the girls unless he had no intention of releasing her.
