Isabella cried, “Hope!” and broke from their position. She bolted toward the cabin, dodging the traps Mike and Cameron had identified, keeping her feet—barely—on the “safe” corridor the men had marked through the woods.
Jacob was right on her heels, the other bounty hunters close behind him.
He saw a pale, drawn woman stagger out of the cabin, swaying beneath the weight of a toddler on each hip. She must not have heard Isabella’s shout, because she fixed her eyes on the vehicles in the parking area and stepped in that direction.
“Hope, stop!” Isabella shouted, legs pistoning as she ran toward the cabin. “The porch is wired!”
The woman froze, comprehension splashing into her eyes. One of the girls started to wail. Hope’s mouth opened in horror and she fixed her eyes on the plank flooring that seemed so innocent, but hid enough C-4 to crater the mountain.
“There’s a path!” Isabella called as she ran. “Follow the boot prints!”
The blonde lifted a foot to take a step in that direction—
And a bloodied figure reeled out of the door, grabbed her arm and dragged her back inside the cabin.
Jacob sped up and burst into the clearing. “Isabella, wait for me!”
Their plan of a careful infiltration was shot, but he didn’t want her going in there without backup.
Isabella didn’t hesitate. She leaped up the cabin stairs and plunged through the door.
Jacob heard a shot.
His heart stopped.
A second shot rang out.
And he ran harder.
Isabella!
LYLE’S FIRST BULLET whizzed past Isabella’s cheek with a burn of flame and fear. His second shot caught her high on her left arm, spinning her around and punching her into the door frame.
She dived behind a plain-looking sofa in the center of the room, but held her fire. Her arm screamed with pain as her brain took a snapshot of the scene.
Lyle had his arm across Hope’s throat and a gun in his off hand. Kane had the girls, one under each arm, where they struggled and screamed, adding noise to the chaos.
Damn it. How had this gone so wrong so quickly?
Not sparing a thought for her injury, though grateful it was in her left arm, not her shooting side, Isabella risked another look, took another mental snapshot as she’d been taught.
She ducked a third shot, but she’d had her look.
Lyle and Kane were backing their hostages toward the rear of the cabin. They could be planning to barricade themselves into a back room.
Or they could be making for the second exit, the one the others must have already used.
Knowing she couldn’t let them reach the exit, that it was up to her to protect Hope and the girls, Isabella looked around for help, for backup, for a distraction, for anything.
For Jacob, though she didn’t admit to herself she was looking for him until she saw his shadow just outside the door.
He peeked around the door frame and their eyes met. An indefinable current ran between them, communication without words.
You go, I’ll cover, his eyes seemed to say.
She nodded slightly and mouthed, Stay safe.
You, too. He pressed his lips together and stared at her a heartbeat longer, as though willing her to understand.
But she didn’t. She didn’t understand what he wanted to say. She understood her duty, her need to go after the hostages. She understood the job.
And she understood herself better now, understood what had happened the night before—at least for her.
She caught his eyes, held them, and mouthed, I love you.
Then she turned, leaped over the couch with gun in hand, and charged in the direction the men had taken the hostages.
JACOB LUNGED in her wake, mind spinning.
I love you.
She’d said it before, back when they’d both been young, and he had cringed at the connection the words implied, the commitment. But now, at the end of their time together, his heart leaped at the words, finally understanding them.
Finally accepting them.
Just as she wasn’t her mother, he wasn’t either of his parents. He didn’t have to be ruled by a relationship, or even a marriage.
It could be a partnership. Isabella and him.
If she survived, he thought, fear clutching his guts. He’d seen the blood on her arm, the hitch in her stride. And now, as he bolted into a dark room behind her, he saw his worst possible nightmare.
Lyle, his bounty, drawing down on Isabella.
The woman he loved.
Jacob charged into the room, shouting. Hope twisted away from Lyle with a surprising burst of strength and kicked at Kane, who still held the squalling babies.
Jacob grabbed the woman’s arm, yanked her away and shoved her out into the main room of the cabin. Ignoring her scream, he slammed the door and advanced on the men.
Lyle held Isabella. His arm was across her throat, his eyes crazed, flickering between Jacob and Kane, who growled the toddlers to silence.
Utter silence.
Jacob could hear the men breathing fast, hear his own heart in his ears. He swept his weapon, trying to cover both men, trying to make a choice, should one be necessary.
He could drop Lyle and save Isabella, but it would mean endangering the babies. Or he could drop Kane and trust Isabella to take care of herself.
Her eyes begged him for the second option. She wouldn’t thank him for saving her at the expense of her protectees.
Or was there a third option?
Slowly, ever so slowly, Jacob lowered his weapon until he held his hands to his sides. “You can leave them and go.”
When Lyle didn’t get it right away, Jacob raised his voice. “Go on. Get out of here!”
Isabella caught her breath. Knowledge flashed in her eyes.
Jacob was giving up the bounty.
Jacob, who never, ever, missed what he was aiming at.
Only this time, he was aiming to keep Isabella and the girls safe at all costs. He saw the tension flow out of Lyle, saw the bastard nod slightly at Kane, who loosened his grip and let the toddlers slide to the floor, where they curled into little whimpering balls.
Kane took a step back, toward an open door that led to a set of stairs disappearing down into the earth. Another step.
Jacob’s heart clenched at the look in Isabella’s eyes, and he said a silent prayer that she’d let it go. That she’d live to fight another day.
Lyle loosened his grip on her.
And all hell broke loose.
Cameron broke through the door at Jacob’s back, weapon drawn. Isabella drove her elbow into Lyle’s gut and grabbed for the gun.
And missed.
Lyle roared a curse. Kane spun and charged back into the fray.
“Murphy! Get the kids!” Jacob shouted, trusting his boss to get the girls out of the room. The words weren’t even out of his mouth before he was diving toward Isabella, who grappled with a cornered, enraged Lyle.
“Bastard!” Kane hit Jacob broadside before he reached the struggling pair. The men fell to the floor in a messy tangle as Cameron scooped up the girls and bolted for the front of the cabin.
Kane punched Jacob on the temple, making his head ring. Jacob grabbed the other man by the hair, reversed their positions and banged Kane’s head against the wood floor.
He wasn’t in the mood for fighting niceties. He needed to get to Isabella.
Kane dropped back, dazed, and Jacob tore himself away. He staggered to his feet and lurched toward the other struggling pair just in time to see Lyle grab his weapon from the floor—he must have lost it in the struggle—and point it at Isabella’s throat.
For once in his life, pure, red rage was Jacob’s friend. It rose up, overwhelmed him and sent him hurtling into the fray. He kicked the gun from Lyle’s hand, grabbed the bastard by his collar and dragged all one-hundred-eighty pounds or so of him up off the floor.
Off Isabella, who struggled to her
feet, grabbed her loose gun and trained it over Jacob’s shoulder. “Drop it!”
He heard a third weapon clatter to the floor and knew she’d just saved him from Kane. That made them even.
Or nearly so.
To make them fully even, he drove his fist into Lyle’s stomach once, twice and a third time, leaving the piece of garbage gasping for breath. Then he dropped him in a heap and growled, “That was for messing with Isabella in the first place.”
AND DAMN if he didn’t sound possessive as he said it, Isabella thought. Wondering about it, questioning what—if anything—it might mean, she turned to say something to him—
And a blur erupted from the hidden tunnel and flew toward Lyle’s prone body. “You bastard! What have you done to them? I’ll kill you with my bare hands. I’ll—”
In a flash, Kane grabbed the distraught man—Secretary of Defense Louis Cooper—and clapped a weapon to his head.
Cooper’s eyes rolled from his captor to the room at large and fixed on Isabella. His expression darkened with rage. “You! I told you to stay away. I told you to leave us alone! What have you done? Where’s my wife and children? Damn you, if you’ve endangered them, I’ll kill you myself!”
He continued shouting, with every word proving for once and all that he was nothing more than a loving husband and father who’d been sucked into events beyond his control. He hadn’t set them up. He’d been trying to do as he’d been told.
But all that was secondary now. Her primary purpose, her primary goal was, as it had always been, to protect her man. There was no time for hesitation now, no time for insecurities.
There was only time for the job.
She felt Jacob at her back and took strength from his steadiness. She saw Kane, saw his mouth stretch in a threat, saw his finger tighten on the trigger held beside Louis Cooper’s head. She saw all that in a split-second mental snapshot, as she had been trained to do.
And she fired.
As she had been trained to do.
Kane crumpled. His weapon fell to the floor. And Secretary of Defense Cooper looked at her, stunned. His mouth worked. He swallowed hard and said, “Where’s Hope?”
“In there.” Isabella nodded behind her and gloried in the rising wail of an overwrought little girl who was now safe, thanks to the bounty hunters.
Thanks to her and Jacob.
Cooper staggered past her, but paused and turned before pushing into the other room. He looked down at her, seeming grayer than he ought in the bright light of day.
“Thank you.” He reached out as though to shake her hand, but stopped and simply said, “Thank you.”
HOPE SAW LOUIS the moment he stepped through the door. She wasn’t surprised to see him come in that way, since Boone and his men had used the entrance almost exclusively. And she wasn’t surprised to see how drawn he looked, how haggard.
Always, beside the fear for herself and their daughters, had been her fear for what he was going through.
She wasn’t surprised by any of that. But she was surprised to find herself bursting into tears and throwing herself into her husband’s arms.
She was home.
ISABELLA SAW the reunion, saw Jacob gesture for Cameron and the others to handcuff Lyle and drag him away, to get Kane’s body out of the room. She saw him send Mike and Tony into the tunnel after the other missing men, who she feared were long gone. And she saw him close the doors at each end of the room, creating an illusion of privacy for the two of them.
She saw all that, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t react. The world was going gray and she couldn’t stop it. Her left arm felt stiff and awkward, her face rubbery and slick with sweat.
Oh, hell. She was going to pass out.
She was conscious of familiar arms catching her before she hit the ground, of a familiar voice talking in her ear. She was conscious of motion, the sway of a vehicle, and a hand that never left hers.
A hand that held on tight.
When she came to, she found herself in a narrow hospital bed, and that hand was still hanging on.
“Hey,” she said, and felt Jacob’s fingers tighten on hers.
“Hey,” he said gruffly. “Welcome back.”
She took a quick survey. Bandage on right arm. Sore places everywhere. The warm lassitude of good drugs. She turned toward him, noting the tension drawn beside his mouth. She smiled and said, “I guess I’ll to live to fight another day.”
He winced. “Don’t even think about it. No more fighting for you, at least not for a while.” He sobered, eyes searching hers for something. “I’ve got a favor to ask you.”
Tingles of nerves ran just below her skin. “What?”
“I want you to stay with me for a while.” When she stiffened, he said, “If Cooper didn’t set us up, Boone must have tracked you all the way to D.C. and back. Derek Horton and Kane are both dead, and Lyle’s back at The Fortress, but Boone and the others are still at large. Until they’re captured, you’re in danger.”
He watched her out of the corner of his eye, as though wondering whether she was going to buy it.
She didn’t. Drugs or no drugs, she wasn’t letting him off easily. Not this time. Not ever again.
Brain clearing, she struggled up until her spine was pressed against the pillow, her shoulders against the metal headboard. “Try again. Why do you want me to stay with you?”
He scowled. “To keep you safe. If King Aleksandr was behind the abduction—”
“Not good enough,” she interrupted. “Now that his family is safe, Cooper will speak to my superiors and get me reinstated at the Service. They can protect me as well as anyone.” She narrowed her eyes at him, needing him to say it. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He glared at her, frustrated. He rose and paced away, then back, rubbing his hands across his face in his characteristic never-ending motion. Then he stopped, let his hands fall away, and looked down at her with an utterly baffled, utterly vulnerable expression on his face. “I owe you a future claim.” He took a breath. “You asked what I wanted and I lied. So I’m not lying now. I want you to stay with me. I want you to give me a chance. I want you to give us a chance.” He spread his hands as though leaving himself wide open for a bullet. “I want you. Period.”
“And?” she demanded, even as her heart thundered in her chest and her soul expanded in a glowing mass that nearly floated her off the bed.
“And,” he said, looking down at her with eyes that were finally clear of reservations and confusion, “I love you.”
She felt like whooping, like cheering, like doing a dance around the bed. But instead she grinned fiercely and said, “Then I claim all your futures, Jacob Powell. Just try to get rid of me again.”
“Never.” He joined her to sit at the edge of the bed, and enfolded her in his arms, at first tentatively, then with more and more pressure, as though he’d wondered, as she had, whether they would ever touch again.
Then he kissed her, or she kissed him, it didn’t matter anymore who initiated the moment, it was finally here. And as she slid into the kiss, into the future, Isabella thought to herself that this was one game both of them had lost.
And both of them had won.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to
Jessica Andersen for her contribution to the
BIG SKY BOUNTY HUNTERS series.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-2854-2
BULLSEYE
Copyright © 2005 by Harlequin Books, S.A.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have n
o relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Dedication
About the Author
Books by Jessica Andersen
Cast of Characters
Contents
Prologue
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
Copyright
Bullseye Page 19
