She quivered in his grasp, then, piece by piece, she rebuilt herself. “Let go of me,” she said tonelessly without turning.
He complied, but he didn’t move away. “I never expected to care for you.”
I am Annabelle Quinn, she told herself. I am on top of the world, don’t you know? I don’t need you. The words would be her shield, deflecting the pain.
“You know how much I hated deceiving you?”
Her head swiveled so fast it dizzied her. “Why? You’re so good at it.” He looked awful. She tried to feel satisfaction, but it slithered from her grasp. With effort, she straightened. Silently wished him to hell. “You were only doing your job, right?”
“What happened between us was no job, Annabelle. You felt it, too.”
“I feel nothing.” I won’t let myself. Or it will kill me.
He gripped her arm.
She turned to ice in his grasp, looking only straight ahead.
He swore, and there was despair in his tone. He released her.
She couldn’t care. He hadn’t.
“It’s your right to hate me. Just know that you can’t possibly despise me more than I despise myself.”
“I won’t think of you at all.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad. I’ll think of you every minute. Every second. And I’ll know I had a chance at something special, but I lost it—because I was doing my job, damn it. That’s what I do, I protect the innocent by catching those who would prey on them, like your buddy Martin. Do you know what kind of evil he’s part of?”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to, because you’re wrong.”
“Well, you’re going to hear, anyway.” He moved in front of her, six feet of angry, miserable male. “Because I won’t let you put yourself in danger.”
“You aren’t in control.”
A bitter laugh. “You’re telling me. I’ve been walking a tightrope, knowing every minute that no matter which way I fell, someone was going to get hurt.” He leaned closer. “But I had no choice except to keep walking because people were dying. They still are.”
Her gaze whipped to his.
“Yeah. Your pal is involved in a very nasty enterprise, the business of human trafficking. You know what sexual slavery is, Miz Quinn? You understand about women and children being hauled halfway across the world in the hold of a ship, then jammed in the back of trailers and vans for hours in filthy conditions, with scarce water and little food—because they dream of coming to America where gold paves the streets? Only there’s a catch. The guys who truck them like cattle then claim they owe bills for their transport, bills they can only work off by being sold as prostitutes or sweatshop labor—and they’ll never be allowed to work off that debt. Some of them die before they ever make it.”
Her stomach roiled. “Martin’s a good man. He would never enslave another human being. You cannot convince me of that.”
“I won’t try to. No, he’s not the one stuffing them in container cars or selling them for slaves—but that chain of misery involves many links, and your buddy is one of them. He’s weak and he’s greedy—he didn’t get his lifestyle running a club, I promise you. As a matter of fact, the club may not be making the money that’s responsible for the little luxuries he’s been bringing you or the Jag he’s driving.”
Her head whipped to him. “What do you know about what he’s been…” Her voice trailed off. “You’ve been watching me.” Oh, God. Somehow that seemed to be the worst violation yet.
“Not me. And they weren’t watching you, they were tailing him.”
“Does Vanessa know?” She didn’t think she could stand it if Vanessa were involved, though how that was worse than knowing everything between her and Sean had been a lie, she couldn’t say.
“No, of course not.” His shoulders sagged. “She’ll be hurt, too, when she finds out.”
She would not feel sorry for him.
“Look, I get that you don’t want to believe me, and I don’t blame you—it’s a big shock for you. But that doesn’t mean it’s a lie.”
“You’ve told me so many lies. How am I supposed to know when you’re telling the truth?”
Smoky gray eyes she’d once found beautiful were bleak, dark holes now. “You don’t have to take my word regarding your so-called friend—but you do have to believe this: I want you safe, and I don’t care what I have to do to guarantee that. I want you free and whole, able to fly back to your castle, to live your glamorous life. I even want you to forget me, if that will take away the pain of how I’ve hurt you. But to accomplish any of that—” he bent his head to her “—you have to be alive. That’s all I care about, Annabelle—that you’re alive and safe. People around your pal Martin are dying right now. He’s nervous and scared because someone he met with was murdered last night…and it’s setting off a chain reaction.”
“He didn’t do it.”
“No one’s sure who’s responsible yet. Regardless, his world is unraveling, and he’s in bed with some very nasty folks who don’t give one good goddamn who gets hurt in order for them to make a buck.
“Hear me and believe me, if you believe nothing else.” He gripped her shoulders. “I will not let you be one of the victims.”
Sincerity rang in his voice. Blazed from his eyes.
“He would never hurt me.”
“He wouldn’t mean to, maybe—but this situation is far more deadly than you can imagine, maybe more dangerous than he ever expected. You could simply be collateral damage, but you’d be just as dead. And I couldn’t live with that, Annabelle.” He swallowed visibly. “You’re important to me.”
“But your job was more important.” She looked beyond him. “There’s my cab. Let me go.” She shrugged him off, reached for the knob.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, damn it.” He stepped in her way. “You weren’t supposed to be real and warm and wonderful. You were supposed to be a snotty celebrity.”
“I’m not real, Sean. And, I realize now, neither was this.” Too tired to cry, though the ache in her chest threatened to burn though bone and flesh, still she couldn’t leave him so coldly. “It’s not your fault,” she said softly. “You were just doing your job.”
He recoiled as though she’d struck him, but he didn’t relent. “I’m not letting you out of here until you promise to stay away from him.” His eyes locked on hers. “Now send the cab away and let me take you to Vanessa’s. Then you get on the first plane back to L.A. and away from danger. Please.”
“Funny…both you and Martin can’t wait to get rid of me.”
“Then for heaven’s sake, listen. There’s too much going on that you don’t understand.” He stood very still, but his face bore the strain. “I have to ask you not to reveal any of what I’ve told you—not for my sake, I don’t expect that. But there are good people whose lives will be placed in jeopardy if word of this operation leaks to the wrong ears. I’m counting on the real Annabelle Quinn and her sense of honor not to endanger them.”
Then he let his vulnerability show in his haunted eyes. “You don’t owe me anything, but I don’t believe the woman who made love with me would ever put other lives in harm’s way.”
She wanted to hate him for knowing that. “But what about Martin? Who looks out for him?”
“I’m an officer of the law, not an executioner. I promise I’ll do everything I can to safeguard him so that he has his chance to defend himself in court. If he’s innocent, he’ll go free.”
“But you don’t think he is.”
“That’s for a jury of his peers to decide.”
It was a decent thing to offer. From a decent man. However hurt she was, she recognized that. “Sean, I truly don’t think he’s guilty.”
“I hope you’re right—but I’m still asking you to stay away from him. It’s the only way I know to ensure your safety. I need your promise, Annabelle.”
She didn’t want to give it. If only she could talk to Martin, she could get this straightened out.
What Sean accused him of simply wasn’t possible.
“Look, I could have you taken into custody to make certain you don’t contact him. I’m trying to respect your dignity and your privacy.”
“You wouldn’t.” She’d been softening toward him, but the threat got her back up.
“Try me.” A muscle in his jaw flexed.
“I won’t reveal what you’ve said.” She could promise that. She’d get her own sense of Martin and figure out exactly what was going on here.
“Thank you. But that’s not all I asked. You’ll stay away from him and make immediate arrangements to go home?”
She didn’t want to. Anger and misery and grief were a tangle in her throat, and it would choke her to death if she didn’t leave now. “Trust me or lock me up, Sean.” She tilted her chin in defiance. “Now I’d like to leave.”
“I’ll get my keys.”
“No. I’m taking that cab.”
“Annabelle…” He remained where he was, tall and beautiful and tortured.
Even now she longed for him to take it all back. How pathetic.
“Look at me, Annabelle. Please.” His voice was caress and command. He wasn’t going to budge until she did.
Slowly she raised her eyes to his, biting her cheek to keep from yielding to the treacherous yearning she couldn’t believe she still felt.
“It wasn’t all a lie,” he said softly, his heart in his eyes.
“It was only an illusion,” she whispered, “and it was cruel.” Slowly she dragged her gaze away and fastened it on the door like a prisoner awaiting release.
After a very long pause, he stepped back.
She made her way on unsteady legs and climbed into the cab.
And stared straight ahead, seeing nothing around her, only the last fragments of a dream drifting away like dandelion puffs.
Chapter Fourteen
After ensuring that the kitten would be cared for, Sean barreled out of his driveway on the way to the station, but however hard he tried to concentrate on the woman Candy and the approach he would take with her, all he could think about was Annabelle.
For the rest of his life he would carry with him the image of her pale, shattered face.
However bad he’d expected the revelation to be…this was worse.
She was so hurt. And doubting herself again. How could he matter so much—and he had, he could see it in her. He’d blindsided her.
They’d both felt the pull of something extraordinary, no matter what she said now. It didn’t seem to matter that their worlds were completely unsuited to each other. Out of all the universe, that their paths would cross was a massive long shot…that they would form such an immediate bond was little short of a miracle. It wasn’t surprising that he would fall for her, but that she would soften in his arms so sweetly, trust him, open her heart to him—
He smacked the steering wheel and swore. He wanted something else to hit, anything that would release this huge ball of shame and guilt and fury eating away at him.
Something like Martin Lowe, the bastard. How could he bring her anywhere near the sordid, nasty tangle he was in up to his neck?
Would she listen to Sean’s warnings? Had she believed a word he’d said? He should have flat-out refused to let her get in that cab and bodily delivered her to Vanessa’s himself, then set a watch on her.
He dialed Vanessa’s number.
“Hotel Serenity.”
“Vanessa, it’s Sean.”
“Oh! I’m surprised to hear from you already. I guess Annabelle survived the shock of seeing your place.” Her teasing tone only made him feel worse.
“Vanessa, I need your help.”
“You sound terrible. What’s wrong? Is Annabelle okay?”
“I’m headed to work, and I don’t have much time. I need you to keep an eye on her.”
“Keep an eye on her? Where is she?”
“She should be there anytime. She took a cab.” He paused. “I hurt her, Vanessa. It’s the last thing I wanted to do, but…” He couldn’t go down that road again, not now. “She’s going to need a friend.”
“Of course, but…Sean, what happened? You two seemed so happy. So good together.”
We were. Damn it, we were, in spite of the lies. “I don’t know how else I could have handled it, but…” He exhaled. Might as well get it out. “Her friend Martin is mixed up in some dirty business. I was assigned to find out if she was involved.”
A very long pause. “And I played right into your hands. Sean, what have you done?”
“I’ve hurt a woman I care about deeply. I’m sorry, Vanessa. I didn’t want to involve you, but this is an ugly case, and people are dying. I would never have compromised you by asking you to introduce us, but when you came up with your bodyguard idea…”
“Oh, no. Oh, Sean, she’s so fragile.”
“I’ve never been ashamed of my job before, if that helps any—and what developed between us was as real as it was unexpected. That part wasn’t a lie, Vanessa, I swear. I care more than I have any right to—I mean, she’s from a different world, and I know we have no future, but…” Despair swamped him, and he couldn’t let it. He had a job to do. “I have to live with what I’ve done, but I’ve got to know she’s safe. She doesn’t want to believe me that he’s in this up to his eyeballs, and I’m scared she’s going to get caught up in it. You aren’t too happy with me right now, and I don’t blame you one bit, but I need you to promise that you’ll stick close to her, that you’ll let me know if she’s getting any crazy ideas about seeing him. If she’d get on back to L.A. pronto, that would be best, but she’s so angry with me and so hurt, she’s not going to listen to anything I have to say. You don’t owe me this, but please, Vanessa, will you watch over her? The one thing I can’t handle is her being put in harm’s way, and we’re shorthanded. I’m going to do my best to get her put under surveillance for her safety, but in the meantime, I have to know she’s safe.”
Vanessa’s voice was heavy when she replied. “Of course I will. I’m not angry with you, Sean.”
“I don’t know why not. I’m furious as hell at myself.”
“You’ll beat yourself up ten times more than I ever could. But poor Annabelle…”
“Yeah.” His own sorrow weighed him down. “Would you tell her…never mind. She won’t want to hear anything from me. I’m nearly at the station, Vanessa. Thank you isn’t enough to say, but it’s the best I’ve got right now.”
“You be careful, Sean. Don’t get hurt because you’re not focused. I’ll take care of Annabelle for you.”
“You’re a better friend than I deserve. I’m grateful as hell.”
“Be safe, Sean.”
“Thank you, Vanessa.”
As the station came into sight, Sean flipped through his options. He’d talk to Doc first and see if there were any resources Doc could tap for surveillance. If need be, Sean would snag some of his buddies in APD.
Once he was sure Annabelle would be watched over, he could turn his mind fully to this case. He’d already lost more than he could bear. To let Martin Lowe swim through their nets would mean all the pain he’d caused was for nothing.
That was not going to happen.
Inside the cab, Annabelle huddled in the corner of the back seat, refusing all the driver’s attempts to converse.
She was all talked out.
She considered herself fortunate that he hadn’t recognized her; then she realized that she hadn’t spared time for even a speck of makeup in her haste to get away from Sean. She was a wreck, her features haggard, her eyes red with unshed tears. Seeing a resemblance to the star most people knew would be a real stretch.
Plus she felt older. And broken.
Not thinking about that.
Her body was an empty husk, dry and lifeless…and she welcomed the void. If she let herself feel…if she let herself remember Sean, his teasing, his warmth, his touch…she would, quite simply, die from the pain.
Why a man she’d kn
own only a matter of days could have come to mean so much to her when her husband had never been half so close to her heart, she couldn’t fathom.
But now her body had dried up as quickly as her illusions.
If only her mind would do the same.
She had to stop thinking about him. Frantically, she cast around for something, anything that would ease the blistering sense of betrayal, the dull thud of worry over Martin, the withering echo of lost hope that love would ever find her.
“Eight twenty-five,” said the driver as he stopped before Hotel Serenity.
Annabelle didn’t move. If she went inside now, Vanessa would sense that something was wrong. She would be sympathetic, and her sympathy would make Annabelle break.
I will not break, not ever again. The time for tears was over…because if she started now, she might never stop.
“Ma’am?”
Maybe she should just head for the airport, as Sean wanted. Go back to what she knew. She could ask Vanessa to pack her things and send them…
No. That would be rude, and Vanessa would be distraught enough once she found out how her attempt to help Annabelle had ended.
Or had the attempt truly been Vanessa’s? The notion struck her with the force of a blow: had meeting her been Sean’s initiative all along, whatever he said?
She’d told Sean she wouldn’t reveal to Martin what she’d learned about the investigation, but she hadn’t agreed not to contact him. Clearly Sean didn’t want her to, but what did that matter? She didn’t owe Sean Fitzgerald anything. Martin had been her best friend for half her life. Maybe Sean was right that Martin had fallen in with some unsavory company—he’d always had a tendency to look for an angle. Maybe he had financial problems, and that had sent him in an undesirable direction. Or maybe his partner Sage, whom she’d never met, had done something that had dragged Martin into a web he couldn’t escape. She couldn’t deny that Martin had been tense and uneasy ever since she’d arrived.
This situation is far more deadly than you can imagine, maybe more dangerous than he ever expected. You could simply be collateral damage, but you’d be just as dead.
Texas Bodyguard Page 17
