by LENA DIAZ,
Logan’s gaze shot to Pierce. They both stopped and slowly turned around.
Redding glanced back and forth between them, his eyes suddenly wary. “What?”
For what felt like the hundredth time since driving away from Logan’s house, Amanda glanced in her rearview mirror, hoping to see his black Mustang. But even though she’d driven well below the speed limit in case he came to his senses and decided to go after her, the mirror remained empty, along with her heart.
She replayed their conversation in her mind, or rather, what she’d said to him. He’d barely listened and had said even less. Maybe she should have been more understanding about the money. But she didn’t want his money. She wanted his love. How could he let her drive away? As a police officer he’d fought for countless strangers. Why couldn’t he fight for her?
The sound of a siren had her glancing in her mirror again. A police car was coming up fast behind her, red and blue lights flashing. Her pulse sped up as hope wrapped its tentacles around her heart. Had Logan come for her after all?
Closer, right behind her. Not Logan, a state trooper, motioning for her to pull over. Anguish washed through her, leaving her empty inside. She jerked the wheel, pulling to the shoulder of the two-lane highway. Summer heat blasted inside the car when she rolled down the window. Tears threatened, but she fought them back, determined not to cry any more for a man who didn’t want her.
Five minutes later, she was back in control of her emotions, but the trooper still hadn’t approached her car. She looked back to see what was taking him so long. He was sitting behind the wheel with his head bent as if he were writing something.
Maybe procedures had changed since the last time she’d gotten a ticket, which was a very long time ago, back in college. Or maybe he didn’t want to stand in the heat while he wrote the ticket. She couldn’t have been speeding. Was he going to give her a ticket for driving below the limit? It wasn’t like she’d passed any other cars out on this deserted rural highway. She wasn’t exactly a traffic hazard. She blew out a frustrated breath. Leaning against the headrest, she closed her eyes against the bright sun and waited, and waited.
“Afternoon, ma’am.”
She looked up to see the trooper standing next to her car with a pad of tickets and a pen. His hat was pulled down low over his face and his eyes were concealed behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Officer,” she said. “I didn’t think I was speeding. Is there something else—”
“License, insurance card, and registration, ma’am,” he drawled.
Irritation simmered inside her. She handed the required documents out the window. “Officer,” she tried again. “Could you please hurry? I have to catch a—”
“I’ll just be a minute, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and ambled back toward his car. Was he purposely walking slowly because she’d asked him to hurry up? Unbelievable. A quick glance at the dashboard clock confirmed her fears. She’d spent far too long meandering down the road waiting for Logan. If she didn’t get going in the next few minutes she would miss her flight.
A shrill noise sounded in the distance. More sirens? She turned in her seat and saw the flashing lights of a police car coming up fast behind her. As it approached, she realized there was another one behind it. And another one behind that. There must be a terrible accident up ahead.
Her eyes widened as she realized there were even more police cars than what she’d originally thought, a whole line of them in the traditional green and white colors of Shadow Falls. As they got closer she counted them—six, seven, eight—good Lord, what in the world was going on?
The first car zoomed past, then another and another, but instead of continuing down the road, they slowed down and blocked off the highway about fifty yards in front of her, forming a semicircle across the road. They turned off their sirens but left their lights flashing.
She glanced back at the trooper. He sat in his car with a big grin on his face. When he saw her looking at him, he tipped his hat and his grin widened. Amanda shook her head in confusion.
The remaining police cars that hadn’t passed her had stopped on the road behind the trooper and formed another semicircle, sirens off, lights flashing. She was completely surrounded. Did they think she was a bank robber or something? Feeling increasingly uneasy, she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she get out of her car and put her hands in the air? What if they thought she was dangerous? Would they shoot her before she could surrender?
The silence was broken by the sound of a powerful engine roaring in the distance. What now? Amanda’s eyes widened and her heart did a little flip when she saw a familiar black Mustang speeding toward the police cars.
Logan’s black Mustang.
He sped through an opening between two of the police cars and skidded to a halt in the middle of the road, twenty feet from her car, fishtailing around until he faced the same direction he’d come from.
Stunned, she watched him get out of his car. He was still wearing the khaki shorts he’d worn earlier, but he’d donned a white t-shirt. His hair was damp and disheveled, so unlike his normal every-hair-in-place look that she couldn’t help but smile.
He hadn’t let her go after all.
She threw her door open, frowning when the pain in her side forced her to get up slower than she’d like. She rushed toward him, meeting him halfway, stopping just short of touching him.
He took off his sunglasses and hung them on the front of his t-shirt. Damn if he didn’t look as sexy as he did in one of those blasted suits of his. She wanted to touch him so badly she had to ball her fists to keep from reaching out. If he wanted her, he would have to make the first move.
His expression hardened as he stared down at her. “You’re not getting on that plane.”
She raised a brow, disappointed. That wasn’t what she’d hoped he would say. “Really? Who’s going to stop me?”
He glanced at the ring of police cars surrounding them, then back at her as if he thought she’d lost her mind.
“Okay,” she said. “I concede you might have the necessary manpower.” Unable to stop herself, she reached up and sifted her fingers through his hair, sweeping some of the dark strands back from his face. One touch, it wasn’t enough, but it would do. For now. She drew a shaky breath and dropped her hand.
He closed his eyes briefly and looked like he was struggling for control. She waited, hoping. Was it really that hard for him to tell her he loved her?
“The letter was a lie, every word.”
Relief surged through her. She knew he’d lied, but hearing him say it helped ease her fears. She waited for him to say more but he only stared at her. “And?” she prodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “Mandy, I’m so sorry I failed you.”
“Oh, Logan. You didn’t fail me. You’ve never failed me.”
His brows narrowed in confusion. “But the CD, when you heard it, and then later in the clearing, you asked what took me so long. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” Unable to resist the impulse anymore, she reached up and caressed the side of his face. “You’ve been living with such guilt for so long you automatically assumed I blamed you, too. I didn’t. I don’t. I ran from the music, not from you. And the only thing that took you too long was telling me you loved me.” She dropped her hand and crossed her arms. “I demand you say it again.”
His brows rose and the pain on his face slowly eased as he searched her eyes.
“I’m waiting,” she said, tapping her foot on the pavement.
Logan’s mouth twitched, then he cleared his throat. “I took a new job.”
Not what she’d wanted to hear. “You took a new job?” Why was he telling her this?
“Chief of police. Shadow Falls. There’s a catch, though.”
“A catch?” she whispered. What was he talking about? Why wasn’t he telling her he loved her? Why wasn’t he kissing her?
He stepped forward, so close that the tips of his sh
oes brushed against hers. “I have to get married. Apparently the last chief quit after less than a year on the job. The mayor wants the next chief to be married. It shows stability, gives the mayor more confidence the chief won’t quit so soon next time.”
Amanda’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. What was he babbling about? He couldn’t possibly mean. . . .
He smiled that heart-stopping, sexy smile of his. “I would have been here sooner, Mandy, but I had to make a quick stop in town.” In ninety-degree heat, in shorts that didn’t quite reach his knees, he knelt on the blazing hot asphalt and pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket.
Tears flowed down Amanda’s cheeks as he opened the box. He pulled out a pear-shaped diamond solitaire ring. “Mandy, I’ve been a complete ass. Can you ever forgive me?”
She punched him in the shoulder. “You know I forgive you. Will you get on with it?”
He grinned. She held out her left hand and he paused with the ring poised to put it on her finger. “Amanda Elizabeth Stockton, I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Yes. Yes. “On one condition.”
His brows drew up in surprise and he suddenly looked very vulnerable as he kneeled in the middle of the highway with half of the Shadow Falls Police force looking on.
“What condition?” he asked, his voice tight, uncertain.
She gave him a smile with all of her love poured into it. “Tell me you love me again. I’ve waited so long to hear that.”
The worry faded from his eyes and his brow smoothed out. “I love you, Mandy. I love you because you’re a beautiful, caring person inside and out. I love you because you believe in me, because you make me want to be a better man. I love you because you’re intelligent, and funny and loyal and sexy. I love you because—”
“I only have one question for you, Logan.”
He paused, looking uncertain again, and it awed her that a man like him, so strong and appealing he stole her breath—it awed her that he could face her with all her scars and troubles and think for one minute that it was possible she might not want him. She was humbled by his little speech, by the love in his eyes, and she realized that everything in her life that had happened had led her to him, and that she wouldn’t change a thing if it meant she wouldn’t have met him.
The tears flowed freely now and she had to wipe her eyes to be able to see him. “What took you so long to realize you loved me?” she whispered. “I’ve loved you since that first time in my kitchen when you pulled me back from a nightmare. The answer is yes, Logan. It’s always been yes.”
His dark eyes blazed into hers and his hands shook as he slid the ring onto her finger. “I’ve loved you since the moment you squeezed my foot in your door,” he said as he rose to stand before her.
She smiled, then sobered as he pulled her against him. He cupped her face with his hands and slowly ran his thumb along her lower lip, exactly the way she’d imagined that first day in her kitchen, when he’d pulled her back from the nightmare. Then his lips touched hers.
The policemen let loose with a cacophony of whistles and cheers. Abruptly breaking the kiss, Amanda looked up into Logan’s laughing eyes. She’d totally forgotten about their audience. Tears clogged her throat as she looked at Logan and saw the naked love shining in his eyes. “You saved me,” she whispered. “You saved me from a life of fear, a life of hiding, a life that . . . wasn’t a life.”
He tenderly kissed the tears from her cheeks, his eyes suspiciously moist. “You’ve got it all wrong, Mandy. I didn’t save you. You saved me.”
About the Author
Lena grew up a Navy Brat, but while two of her three siblings followed her father’s footsteps and joined the Navy, Lena loosely followed her musically talented mother’s footsteps by choosing a more creative path, writing. Her first novel-length manuscripts were paranormals ranging from contemporary vampire stories to medieval druid tales. Since dead bodies kept creeping into everything she wrote, she eventually turned to romantic suspense. Today Lena can be found in North Florida with her husband of twenty-plus years, her belly-dancing daughter, her mud-bogging son, a tri-colored Sheltie named Sparky, and a pair of Beta fish named Rocky Bal-Beta and Mr. T.
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
HE KILLS ME, HE KILLS ME NOT. Copyright © 2011 by Lena Diaz. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition August 2011 ISBN: 9780062115775
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062114556
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About the Publisher
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Table of Contents
Dedication
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 Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
