TrustMe

by Unknown

  There was just something about Genevieve, he mused. Even from a distance, she seemed able to scramble his circuits and knock him off balance. He wondered if he was doomed to spend the rest of his life a dime short and a step behind.

  I love you. They were just three little words, but they’d been playing in a continuous loop in the back of his mind—and screwing with his concentration—ever since she’d said them back on the porch. It had given him more than enough time to reflect on just how desperately he wanted to hear them again.

  Given the effort he’d made to get her to rescind them just a day before, there was a certain irony in that.

  Yet merely this brief interlude away had made him realize how totally he’d come to need her in order to feel complete. Her quick mind, her quirky humor, her soft heart and melting touch—she was now as necessary to him as breathing. He might not have a label for his feelings, but he couldn’t imagine his life without her, either, at least for the immediate future. She was the best thing to have happened to him in a very long time and he didn’t intend to give her up.

  Instead of jail, he’d decided to take her back to his place, enlist his brothers’ help and see what sort of deal they could strike with the Silver County authorities. If that meant giving the retainer back to the client, so be it. He’d made a considerable amount of money the past few years and, since his needs were few, he had the resources to cover that as well as anything else that cropped up.

  His hands tightened on the wheel a fraction as he imagined Genevieve’s relief when he told her. An unfamiliar emotion swept through him and, though it took him a moment, eventually he recognized it for what it was. Anticipation. Something else he hadn’t experienced in a very long while.

  It vanished in a heartbeat, however, when he spotted the mud-splattered silver SUV parked on the far side of the turnoff to the cabin. Frowning, he slowed, prickles of uneasiness radiating down his spine as he took in the rental sticker on the back bumper.

  Just what, he wondered, were the chances of somebody from out of town picking that spot to park out of countless miles of empty road?

  And just like that he knew, even before he turned off the road onto the driveway and spotted the churned-up tracks in the snow and mud made by tires newer and wider than the ones on the old pickup he’d driven out.

  Jaw set, he hit the accelerator, hands rock-steady as he took the slippery, twisting track at a speed that wasn’t even remotely safe. Topping the final hill, he pushed the vehicle even harder, ignoring the thump as he fishtailed around the final curve and the loose tire in the back crashed against the wheel well.

  He swore, his gut clenching, as he saw that the clearing beside the cabin was empty of vehicles, and he realized he was too late. Slamming on the brakes, he jammed the gearshift into Park and flung himself out the door while the big SUV was still rocking on its tires. Taking the steps in one powerful bound, he stormed across the porch and threw open the door.

  Just as he’d expected, his older brother was the sole occupant of the room. “Goddamn it, Gabe, what the hell have you done?” he demanded, advancing menacingly on the other man as if the gun that had made an appearance at his explosive arrival didn’t exist. “Where is she?”

  Gabriel gave him a careful once-over, the tension edging his face ebbing away as he apparently saw for himself that Taggart was fine. “Good to see you, too, bro,” he said mildly. His movements calm and deliberate, he removed the clip from the gun and un-cocked the slide, then slid the weapon back into the holster hidden by his coat’s custom fit.

  “Where the hell is Genevieve?” Taggart repeated.

  “Right this minute?” Gabe shot his cuff to glance at the deceptively simple stainless-steel watch gracing his wrist. “Most likely winging away from the Kalispell airport in the plane with the armed escort that the Silver County prosecutor sent for her.”

  Taggart decked him. Without stopping to think, for the first time since he’d been thirteen and Gabe fourteen, and they’d had their last major disagreement over the wisdom of his plan to steal cars for a living, he socked his big brother in the mouth with enough force to knock him to the floor.

  Wisely, Gabriel stayed put. Gingerly sitting up, he flexed his jaw, then slowly wiped away the blood welling from his bottom lip with the back of his hand. He looked consideringly at Taggart, comprehension lighting his jewel-toned eyes. “It’s like that, huh?” he said quietly, his expression a mixture of sympathy and dawning regret.

  “Yeah. Maybe. Hell—” Taggart raked a hand through his hair impatiently “—I don’t know. But yeah,” he said finally. “I think so.”

  The realization struck him like a well-aimed boot to the head. For a second he felt dizzy and weak in the knees, and it didn’t get any better as the magnitude of what he might have lost began to dawn on him.

  He’d never said a word to her about what he did feel, hadn’t put himself out enough even to tell her that he cared. And now, unintentionally or not, he’d broken his promise that she wouldn’t have to face jail alone. Hell, for all he knew, she might very well think he’d driven off and callously arranged for Gabe to come so he wouldn’t have to face her and own up to what she was sure to see as a betrayal.

  “Damn, Taggart, I’m sorry.”

  His brother’s voice was a welcome interruption in his tempestuous thoughts. Telling himself that it was more important than ever to focus on the here and now, to concentrate on doing what he could to make this better for Genevieve and deal with his own fear and fury and worry later, he took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Gabe. “What did you say?”

  “That I’m sorry. If I’d had a clue—” he stopped, uttered a single, profane word that left no doubt as to the depth of his regret “—it never would’ve happened.”

  Taggart knew damn well Gabe was sincere; it wasn’t in his brother’s nature to be anything but straight with him. Even so, he was in no mood to let him off the hook just yet.

  “You should be sorry.” Reaching down, he offered his hand to the man who’d been the only true constant in his life before Genevieve and yanked him to his feet. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

  Gabriel gave an offhand shrug. “It’s been nearly a week. After a while, when you didn’t check in, Lilah started to get worried—”

  “Lilah?” At the mention of their brother Dominic’s bride, his eyebrows climbed and his hard-won calm deserted him. “When the hell did Lilah get the green light to call the shots and interfere in my life?”

  Gabe sighed. “Since Dom found out she’s pregnant. Trust me, the next six months are going to be long for all of us.”

  “Is she all right?” he asked sharply.

  “She’s fine. Dom’s the one who’s a wild-eyed maniac.”

  “Yeah, well I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I want to hear what went down with Genevieve.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Yeah. I figured.” That sick feeling twisted through his gut again and he shook it off. “But for now I’m going to give you a pass.” Walking toward the door, he picked up Genevieve’s duffel bag and heaved it at Gabe before leaning down and grabbing a box in either arm.

  “And why, exactly, is that?” the other man inquired, following him out to the back of the SUV.

  “Because.” He gave the loose tire a savage shove, stowed the books and turned to face his brother. “You’re about to help me do whatever it takes to get Genevieve out of jail.”

  Again, Gabriel searched his face, then gave the faintest of sighs. “I suppose that means we’re going to have to clear the brother?”

  “Didn’t I just say whatever it takes?” he countered, pushing past Gabe to head back to the cabin for the rest of their stuff.

  Yet as he stepped inside, he felt that old, familiar bleakness settle over his heart. Because while exonerating Seth Bowen might be enough to secure Genevieve’s freedom, he wasn’t at all sure it would be enough to make her give him another chance.

>   That is, if he deserved one at all.

  Fourteen

  C lutching her coat, Genevieve stepped out onto the wide front steps of the Silver County Jail. After nine days spent inside, locked up in a ten-by-ten cell that had sported a single narrow, mesh-covered window, the afternoon sunlight was as welcome as it was dazzling.

  She drank in several long draughts of pristine air, took a moment to enjoy the briskness of the day, then squeezed her eyes shut and said a silent prayer of thanks for her freedom.

  Despite the assurances of her attorney, who had informed her he’d been engaged on her behalf by Steele Security, Genevieve still found it hard to believe that the nightmare that had consumed more than eight months of her life was finally over.

  Yet the reality was driven home as she heard foot-steps coming up the stairs and opened her eyes to find a familiar male face smiling crookedly down at her.

  “Seth!” For one incredulous moment she could only stare at her baby brother. And then joy picked her up and sent her flying into his arms. “Oh, God, you’re out! You’re really free!”

  Laughing and crying at once, she clung to him, patting, stroking, touching—his hands, his arms, his precious, precious face—needing that solid contact to assure herself he was really there, really all right. “I can’t believe it. When? How?”

  “This morning,” he said, burying his face in her hair and holding on to her with the same kind of fierceness he’d displayed when he’d needed comfort as a little boy. “It was Laura’s brother, Gen. He was the one. He killed Jimmy.”

  Her hands went still. “What?” she said in disbelief, leaning back to stare in shock at his face. “It was Martin? But why?”

  “Turns out that’s not his name. And he really isn’t Laura’s brother at all, but her lover,” Seth said, more than a trace of hardness glinting in his eyes. With a little jolt, Genevieve realized that in the months since she’d seen him the last trace of boyish softness had left his face and that he was finally, fully, a man.

  “They planned it from the start,” he went on. “Apparently they were looking for somebody like Jimmy even before they met him. Then later, I guess Jimmy told Laura what he told me—that he’d changed beneficiaries—so they went ahead. It was supposed to look like he’d walked in on a burglary, just like I thought, only I showed up and drove Martin off before he could stage it.”

  “But…” Genevieve tried to take it in, to wrap her mind around it. “He was with Jimmy’s folks…wasn’t he?”

  “Laura was. Turns out Martin was a little late, claimed he’d gotten lost finding the house. Which nobody thought to mention, since I got tagged right away.”

  “But the will, the insurance—”

  “You know Jimmy. He was always putting things off, talking about stuff like it was a done deal before he even got the ball rolling.” He shook his head. “Damn, but I miss him.”

  The reminder of everything he’d been through had her winding her arms around his middle and giving him another fervent hug. “I know. I know. I’m just so glad the rest of this is over.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” He allowed himself one more moment of comfort, then got a grip on himself. Straightening, he gently set her away, smoothed her hair back behind her ears.

  There was a space of silence while they both simply stood and smiled at each other. “So?” he said finally, lifting an eyebrow. “You going to ask me who’s responsible for us standing here like this or not?”

  “I’m pretty sure I already know,” she said, swallowing hard and telling herself she was not going to let anything spoil this moment.

  That Seth was here, free, meant she owed John a debt she could never repay. The fact that she hadn’t seen or heard from him since she’d been hauled away from the cabin didn’t matter.

  Or it shouldn’t. No. It didn’t. She refused to let it. She’d known there were no guarantees right from the start, known even as she was falling in love with him that their time in Montana might be all they ever had.

  Just as she knew, with a certainty that didn’t require reassurance or proof, that he’d had nothing to do with that last, terrifying scene at the cabin. Whatever had gone wrong, it hadn’t been his fault.

  “I like him,” Seth volunteered.

  “You’ve met?”

  “Sure. We’ve talked a bunch of times, while I was in jail, then again earlier today, after I got out.”

  “He’s a good person, a good man,” she said firmly.

  “Yeah. Except—” he made a soft sound that was a uniquely male mix of amusement and sympathy with just a hint of good-natured derision “—I think he’s scared.”

  “John?” She didn’t believe it for a minute. After what he’d been through in Afghanistan, she doubted anything could faze him. But she also knew her brother well enough to see he was dying for her to ask the question anyway and she was too glad to see him to deny him anything. “Of what?”

  He paused just a moment, clearly enjoying himself. “You.”

  “Me?” she exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Hey, don’t kill the messenger.” He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s just my opinion. The guy didn’t say five words on the drive over, but I could tell it was killing him to hang back at the car. One of his brothers, Dominic, I think, claims he’s walking proof that the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

  “John’s here?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t I just say that?”

  But Genevieve wasn’t listening.

  Stepping around Seth, she lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she surveyed the busy street. It only took a second for her gaze to fix on the tall man with the warrior’s face staring back at her as he stood stiffly beside the shiny black SUV parked at the far curb.

  Her coat fell forgotten to the ground as her heart trumped her common sense and sent her leaping down the remaining steps. She checked her motion for an instant on the sidewalk, took a quick look at the traffic and then dashed into the street.

  Ignoring the bark of a horn and the screech of brakes, she dodged around a pair of cars and flung herself into his arms.

  “Oh, God, I wasn’t going to do this,” she said, burying her face in his neck as she nearly knocked him off his feet. “And you don’t have to say anything, I understand you don’t feel the way I do, and I don’t expect anything, really, but I’ve just missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Genevieve.” Taggart could barely get her name out past the lump jamming his throat. He’d thought he was prepared for anything. Anger. Disdain. Demands to know where the hell he’d been. Even a sincere but distant declaration of thanks before she brushed him off and walked out of his life.

  The only thing he hadn’t expected was this. That she’d come straight at him with her arms wide open, her heart on her sleeve, and wrap him in the priceless gift of her love, no questions, no demands for an explanation, no words of reproach.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he locked his arms around her and lifted her effortlessly up, some of the terrible tension that had made it hard for him to get a deep breath the past ten days finally easing. Not one to hang back, she promptly wrapped her legs around his waist and twined her arms around his neck and held on like she’d never let him go.

  His heart. His miracle. His love.

  The woman who’d gotten the drop on him, whisked away the cloud of darkness surrounding him and taught him how to laugh again.

  Until this moment he’d told himself that if it was what she wanted, he’d let her go. Yet with her safely in his arms, he could finally admit to himself that that was a lie.

  She was his now. Just like he was hers.

  And the least that he owed her was to tell the truth, do his best to explain why, when she’d needed him most, he hadn’t been there for her.

  “Genevieve,” he said again, his voice stronger this time.

  “Hmm?”

  “You need to look at me. You have a right—” he stopped and swallowed, a hard man reduce
d to jelly by a woman with a Pollyanna complex “—to see my face when I tell you this.”

  Loosening the stranglehold she had on him, she leaned back. “Whatever it is—”

  “Shh,” he ordered. He’d meant to work his way up to this, but when he saw the worry suddenly darkening her eyes, he knew that he had to just say it, straight out. “Just listen. When I came back and found out what Gabe had done—I was more afraid than I’ve ever been. Somehow, you’d made me take another look at what happened that night on Zari Pass, made me at least consider that I might not be the only one responsible, made me start to think that maybe, maybe, I could have a…real life. With you.

  “But it was all so new, the last thing I ever expected. And then, when it was too late, when I came back and found you were gone, I just got all tangled up inside. Rather than come and see you and take the chance that you’d tell me to get the hell out and leave you alone, I thought—if I could just make things right for you and Seth—maybe then you’d believe that I hadn’t just gone off and double-crossed you.

  “And then, the longer it took, when the judge proved difficult and the whole thing dragged on and I was still a no-show…Well, you’ve got every reason to tell me to go, except—”

  “It’s all right,” Genevieve interrupted, unwilling to allow him another second of self-doubt, wanting him to know she’d believed in him all along.

  “No, it’s not. Damn it, Genevieve, what I’m trying to say is—” his voice hitched just for an instant, then turned steady and strong “—I love you. I love you and I want us to be together. Forever. Say you’ll be my wife.”

  “Oh, John.” Genevieve’s heart hitched as she stared into the warm green flame of his eyes. There were no longer any shadows lurking there, she realized, just a steady, blazing light. “I love you, too. Always.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  She smiled. “How could I possibly turn down such a romantic proposal? Absolutely it’s a yes.”

  To her amazement, he closed his eyes, obviously overcome, just for a second.