Colton's Deep Cover: A Romantic Suspense

by Elle Kennedy

  She fell silent abruptly.

  Derek reached out and grasped her chin, angling her head to force eye contact. “And then what?”

  “He killed someone I cared about.” A shaky breath left her mouth. “I was heading up a charity committee and I became close with my co-chair. He was smart, handsome, funny.”

  “And you had an affair with him,” Derek finished in a gentle tone.

  “No.” She smiled. “He was gay. But we did become friends.” The smile faded. “When Felix found out, he jumped to the same the conclusion you just did and accused me of having an affair. I denied it, he didn’t believe me. He forced me to quit the committee, and two weeks later my co-chair was found dead in an underground parking garage in L.A.”

  “Are you certain Felix killed him?” Derek asked sharply.

  “He bragged about it,” she said with an angry shake of her head. “He said I belonged to him and that the same thing that happened to Jim would happen to the next man I got chummy with. There was no evidence to link Felix to Jim’s death, but I know he had him killed, Derek. I just know it.”

  “Is that what drove you to finally leave?”

  After a beat of hesitation, she nodded.

  An alarm went off in his head, triggering a bout of suspicion. He got the feeling that she’d left out an important part of the story, but he didn’t want to push her. Now that her story was winding down, she looked ready to bolt, but he wasn’t letting her go anywhere, not until he got some more answers.

  “When you applied for a job at the clinic…were those documents you gave me forgeries?” he asked with an edge to his voice. “The résumé, the nursing license, the recommendation letters?”

  Her eyes widened. “No, they were real. I do have a nursing degree, I did earn a psychology degree from Berkeley and I did work for eight years at the hospital in L.A.” Shame crossed her face. “Only the name on those documents was a lie.”

  “How did you swing that?”

  “I know someone who deals with identity papers,” she admitted. “I met him while volunteering at the hospital. He used to work in army intelligence and has a lot of contacts. He was expensive but worth it. He created an entire life for Amelia Phillips—birth certificate, Social Security number, medical records. Because I’d attended Berkeley as Chloe Moreno, he created a new record for Amelia Phillips using my actual grades and transcripts, same with my employment records. And once I left California, I took the examination in Missouri to renew my license, just like I wrote that same exam last week so I could practice in Pennsylvania.”

  “You convinced me to hire you under false pretenses,” he said bitterly.

  She swallowed. “Under a false name. But my training is real, and so is my skill. I’m a damn good nurse, Derek. Think what you want of me, but you can’t deny that I’m good at my job.”

  “You are good.” He met her eyes. “But what now, Ame—Chloe? Your cover has been blown. Your husband knows you’re alive. What are you planning to do now?”

  “Run.”

  Alarm shot through him. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t stay in Eden Falls. That’s why I quit today. I need to get out of town as soon as I can.”

  “That’s crazy,” he said firmly. “You can’t keep running.”

  “What other choice do I have?”

  “Call the cops, and tell them about Felix.”

  She lifted her chin in fortitude. “No. If I do that, he’ll hurt my father.”

  “Not if you tell them about the threat to your father. The police can arrange round-the-clock protection for him.”

  “And who will protect me?” she countered. “Don’t kid yourself—Felix will kill me. He’ll kill me and make it look like an accident, or use his powerful connections to cover it up.”

  “What kind of connections can he possibly have? You said he was a doctor—” Derek halted as something clicked.

  Felix Moreno.

  Christ, even he knew who Felix Moreno was, and he was just a small-town doctor from Pennsylvania Dutch country. Moreno was a renowned plastic surgeon, one of the best in the world, not to mention the author of dozens of studies, a highly sought-after consultant, a personal friend of several senators and a frequent visitor to the White House.

  He scanned his brain, trying to remember what he’d heard about Moreno’s wife, but he came up blank. All he knew was that the celebrity surgeon had married a socialite.

  A trophy wife, as Chloe had said.

  “You get it now, don’t you?” she murmured.

  He grimaced. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Felix will go to great lengths to protect his reputation. He’ll kill me and everyone I love before risking people knowing that he’s a wife beater.”

  Derek dragged a hand over his scalp, the short bristles of his hair scraping his palm. “So you’re simply going to disappear again? Buy yourself a new identity and hope that Felix doesn’t track you down this time?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what about your father? If Felix knows you’re alive, who’s to stop him from using your father to lure you out of hiding?”

  Chloe paled. “Oh, God.”

  Feeling like an ass for scaring her, Derek touched her cheek again. “We’ll hire a guard for your dad. One call to Tate and there’ll be a bodyguard posted outside your father’s door by tomorrow morning. And in the meantime, we’ll go to the police.”

  She responded with that stubborn shake of the head again. “No. Even if I did, Felix wouldn’t go to jail. All he did was send a few wedding mementos—he probably wouldn’t even get charged for that. I won’t go to the cops. Not until I figure out what to do. I need a couple of days to think things through.”

  His jaw tensed. “There’s no way you’re staying in this apartment one second longer.” His gaze strayed to the blood-covered wedding dress on the armchair. “If Felix makes a move, you’re a sitting duck here.”

  She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand to silence her. “You’re coming back to the Double C with me. Tonight.”

  “No way,” she said swiftly. “I won’t bring this trouble to your doorstep. I don’t want him breaking into your home and hurting anyone in your family.”

  “The ranch has a top-notch security system.” He glanced pointedly around her small apartment. “This place, however, doesn’t. Your life is in danger and I’m not leaving you alone. So suck it up—you’re coming home with me.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Yes you can,” he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. With a burst of determination, he stumbled to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Pack a bag, Amel—Chloe. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Why?” she whispered, fixing those big hazel eyes on his face. “Why would you do this for me?”

  “Because I don’t want to see you hurt. Because I want to help you. Because I took an oath to save lives. Take your pick.”

  A wry smile lifted her lush mouth. “I don’t think there’s anything in the Hippocratic oath about taking in a woman who’s running from her psycho husband.”

  “Sure there is. It’s in the footnotes.”

  She laughed, and the melodic sound warmed his heart. Then her expression turned serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? I have a lot of baggage, Derek. I won’t be upset or insulted if you don’t want to get involved.”

  “I have a lot of baggage, too,” he said hoarsely. “And a big house, so there’s plenty of room for both our baggage. You can stay for a few days and I’ll help you figure out your next move.”

  Their eyes locked, and despite the graveness of the situation, Derek experienced a flicker of heat. Amelia Phillips, Chloe Moreno, whatever name she called herself—it didn’t matter, and it didn’t change the way his body reacted to her nearness. She was
so achingly beautiful that he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. He wanted to stroke her silky skin and cup those firm breasts and run his hands over every inch of her curvy body.

  Inappropriate much?

  Shoving away the unwelcome images, Derek cleared his throat. “Grab your things. It’s time to go.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Chloe swept her gaze around Derek’s living room, surprised by how cozy it was. She’d expected a more sterile atmosphere, considering the minimalist decorating style of Derek’s office at the clinic, but this room exuded warmth and elegance. Brown leather couches set up in an L-shape graced one side of the space, while the other side boasted tall bookshelves crammed with everything from medical texts to romance novels. She couldn’t picture Derek relaxing with a romance, so she figured those must have belonged to Derek’s wife, whose feminine presence could be seen in the room. The yellow curtains hanging by the large bay window spoke of a woman’s touch, as did the pink-and-peach decorative pillows arranged on the sofas.

  But there were no photographs of Tess in the room, and when she’d sneaked a peek into the master bedroom and glimpsed the black-and-gray color scheme, a total contrast from the peach-and-gold of the guest bedrooms, she suspected that Derek had redecorated his room after Tess died. Was it because he couldn’t bear falling asleep in a room that reminded him of his wife?

  As she lingered in the doorway, Chloe realized that Derek had yet to mention the mysterious Tess to her. She could hardly fault him, though. She hadn’t exactly mentioned her husband, either, at least prior to tonight.

  “You want something to eat?”

  Derek’s voice made her jump. She turned as he came up beside her. “No, thank you. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  And the whiskey she’d consumed back at her apartment was burning a hole in her belly, making her feel queasy. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she’d definitely needed the liquid courage earlier.

  “Let’s sit down,” he suggested.

  After they settled on the couch, Chloe met his somber, chocolate-brown eyes and felt a spark of unease. While she’d gotten changed in the guest room, Derek had been on the phone, but she hadn’t been able to make out what he was saying. Judging from his expression, his phone call must have been serious.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he assured her. “But I do have to go in a few minutes to meet Tate. I’m giving him the dress so he can test the blood. And before you argue, I want you to know Tate gave me his word that he wouldn’t involve anyone at the police department. He has a friend at a private lab in Philly and she’ll test the sample on the down low.”

  Chloe nodded, relieved. “That’s fine. But I still don’t think it’s human blood. Felix wouldn’t leave behind anything that might incriminate him in something illegal, particularly a murder.”

  “I’d still feel better knowing for sure,” Derek said firmly.

  “Okay.” She cocked her head. “Is that all?”

  “I asked Tate to arrange a bodyguard for your father—everything will be in place tomorrow morning. And in the meantime, I phoned the facility and spoke to the doctor in charge of your father’s case. Your dad is safe. He’s sleeping comfortably in his room.”

  Gratitude tugged at her heart. God, this man was so wonderful, sometimes she wondered if she’d dreamed him up. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome,” he said gruffly, then cleared his throat. “Also, I’m sending one of my ranch hands to fix your door in the morning.”

  They’d already decided not to call her landlady, Greta, who was on vacation for the next three weeks. Chloe had opted to fix the door herself. That way she wouldn’t have to tell Greta about the break-in and risk the woman reporting it to the cops.

  “I can hire someone to do it,” Chloe answered.

  “It’s no problem. I’ll take care of it.”

  “No. I won’t have you sending one of your employees to take care of my mess. You’ve already done so much—I can’t let you pay to have my door fixed.”

  He shot her a stubborn look. “Tough. I’m doing it. And the money isn’t an issue.”

  “It’s not an issue for me, either,” she muttered. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  He ignored the last remark and focused on the previous one. “Money’s not a problem, huh?” His eyes twinkled. “Did you pilfer Felix’s accounts before you left?”

  She sighed. “Actually, I sold off some jewelry.”

  He wrinkled his brows.

  “I couldn’t touch the inheritance I got from my parents,” she explained. “Felix has access to that account, and he would’ve been suspicious if a chunk of cash disappeared right before my supposed death.”

  The jewelry had been a safer bet, and fortunately, Felix had bought her an obscene amount of it over the years. He would never notice if some of the pieces were missing, and Chloe had cashed in more than half a million dollars’ worth of jewels before her suicide.

  They fell silent, and she could tell Derek was mulling over the details she’d given him. Yet he didn’t seem to be judging her. He’d confessed on the drive to the ranch that he’d offered his medical services to several women’s shelters during his residency, so she suspected he had some experience with abused women.

  The label made her cringe. Abused woman. It seemed surreal, calling herself that, especially when she’d always believed herself to be a strong and capable individual. If someone had told her when she was younger that she’d end up at the mercy of a violent man, she would’ve laughed. Nobody liked to think that something like that could happen to them.

  Her hand unconsciously moved to rub her left cheek, a reminder of what her fate could’ve been if she hadn’t gotten out when she had.

  “So you crashed a plane, huh?”

  Derek’s bemused remark drew her from her thoughts. When she met his gaze, she saw a combination of curiosity and admiration glimmering there.

  “I took flying lessons for six months,” she admitted. “Felix thought I was heading up a charity for underprivileged children, which I was, except the weekly committee meetings didn’t take the two hours I claimed. For that second hour, I was up in the sky. I learned to fly on a Cessna, the same model as our plane, which was what I flew the morning I ‘died.’”

  He looked alarmed. “Please don’t tell me you were in the plane when it went down.”

  “I parachuted out before the plane even reached the ocean. The autopilot did the rest.”

  “I never took you for a skydiver.”

  She shrugged. “Trust me, I’m the furthest thing from an adrenaline junkie, but it was the only way I could get out. I knew there couldn’t be a body, but I had to convince Felix I was truly gone. The friend I mentioned before also helped me come up with the exit plan.”

  “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he murmured.

  She had to smile. “All bad ones, I suspect.”

  Derek searched her face. “Why take such a huge risk, Chloe? What would’ve happened if your plan didn’t go off as smoothly as it did?”

  “It was a risk I was willing to take. I had to get out, Derek. I figured I would either get away with it and live, or screw it up and die.” A lump rose in her throat. “Either way, I’d be free.”

  * * *

  Either way I’d be free.

  Chloe’s words continued to haunt Derek as he parked his car in front of his brother Gunnar’s cabin, which was located on the far edge of the Double C. He couldn’t believe how courageous the woman was. She’d taken a monumental risk when she’d faked her death and escaped her husband, yet the danger hadn’t stopped her from carrying through with her plans. And when she’d recited her story, she’d been so calm, exuding an inner strengt
h that had awed him.

  He didn’t particularly agree with her decision to keep the cops out of this, but he understood where it stemmed from. Felix Moreno had tormented Chloe for years, and though she put on a brave face, Derek knew she still feared her husband. Breaking the cycle of fear and abuse didn’t happen overnight. Chloe had taken a big step toward self-healing, but Derek suspected a part of her still viewed herself as the powerless, “defective” woman Moreno had labeled her so many years ago.

  Getting out of the car, Derek tucked the garbage bag that held Chloe’s bloody dress under his arm and climbed the wooden steps of Gunnar’s porch. Tate’s sedan was already parked on the dirt next to Gunnar’s Suburban.

  He found both his brothers in Gunnar’s den, hunched over a laptop as they murmured to one another.

  “All set,” Gunnar said, keying in a few strokes. “The money’s

  been transferred to a numbered account in the Caymans. Whenever you’re ready, you can reroute it to whatever account you’ll be using for your cover story.”

  “Great. I owe you one, bro.”

  “Hey, what’s the fun in being a billionaire if you can’t share the wealth?”

  Derek hid a smile. Just hearing the word billionaire made his head spin. The Colton family was well off, but Gunnar had taken that wealth to a new level when several prudent investments had skyrocketed while he’d been serving in the military. Gunnar had returned home from the service to discover he was officially filthy rich, and though he was still the same gruff and crabby eldest Colton, his siblings never failed to tease him about his new status.

  “Quit lurking and come in, Doc,” Gunnar called, humor ringing in his voice.

  Derek wasn’t surprised that his brother had sensed his presence even with his back turned to the door. Gunnar was always aware of everything and everyone around him, thanks to his military training. The guy’s instincts were spot-on.

  “So you’re all set for the undercover op?” Derek asked Tate as he strode into the den.