Christine made her way over to Parker while they listened to Jones ramble and leaned in to whisper in his ear, her mouth so close that her breath was almost as loud as her words. “Every law enforcement agency in the country has a wanted picture of this guy. Apparently he struck again last night near here. The woman he raped described a man that precisely matched Reginald.”
Parker resumed his interrogation, armed with this new information. “But you still haven’t explained why you waited three days to come out to the cabin. Surely she wasn’t that hot.” He was getting sloppy if he left another victim alive.
Scuffling sounds. Jones was pissed about something. “Look, you asshole, if you must know, the GPS doesn’t work out here. You’re out of range. I didn’t plan for that. Took me a few days to hunt you down on foot. But I’m here now, aren’t I? And your time is almost up.” His voice was getting more insistent. “Are you going to come out here like a man, or do I have to bust in there and get you?”
What would be the best response to keep this crazy fucker as sane as possible? “Dude, you know as well as I do that I’ve been shot at hundreds of times in my life and no stray bullet has ever come close to hitting me.” Parker glanced at Christine, wincing as he remembered the same was not true for her. This was not her gig anymore, not since she did get shot in the line of duty. He hoped she could hold it together so that all three of them walked out of this mess alive and in one piece.
A rain of bullets pummeled the little cabin once again. “There’s always a first, Phillips. Today isn’t going to be your best day,” Jones screeched dementedly. The more he talked, the crazier he got.
Madeline whimpered under the bed. She was no longer holding the gun up in the air, her hand would’ve grown too tired by now. But she still gripped the handle, even though she was shaking more than Parker would’ve liked, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was petrified.
* * *
Madeline was wrung out from the stress of listening to this madman chortle and mock every move she and Parker had made for the last week. The strain was evident on Parker’s face too. He was berating himself for not picking up on this vermin.
The sound of screeching tires worked its way into Madeline’s consciousness. Someone was coming. Someone would rescue them. Right?
With a renewed sense of optimism, Madeline gripped the damndable pistol in her right hand and used her left to steady it, aiming at the door.
Parker lifted his head and cocked it slightly to the side, listening. “That had better be Reynolds,” he muttered under his breath.
There was no time to think. Gunfire broke out in all directions. Madeline could no more have used the pistol in her hand than she could have flown a kite at that moment. She dropped the offensive device and curled into a ball, covering her head with her hands.
The barrage of bullets flying around was deafening, forcing her to stick her fingers in her ears to drown out the sounds. She felt like a fetus huddled under the old bed.
Finally, there was an abrupt halt to the earsplitting noise around her. Too afraid to look up, Madeline could not bring herself to move. She stayed tucked in her little ball, panting with the effort to breathe, her neck and limbs stiff from trying to protect herself.
Who won? There was no noise at all for several moments and then shuffling sounds around her. Someone reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch and draw farther under the bed, afraid Reginald Jones was now going to finish the job he started. What sort of fool had she been to think she could ever get away from him?
“Madeline, you’re okay, sweetheart. You’re not hurt.” Parker? His voice was muffled. Why didn’t he sound right? She pressed deeper under the bed, fear overriding her sanity.
“Baby, it’s me. Parker. It’s over.” Again, he reached for her arm and laid his hand on her skin, warm, gentle, not the rough demanding touch of a madman.
Madeline uncurled herself and twisted her face to stare at Parker. “You don’t sound right. What’s the matter with my ears?”
Parker smiled then, a look that soothed her while he pulled her out from under the bed. “The gunfire was very loud. Like when you’re at a rock concert. Give it a minute. The pressure will subside.” He pulled her into his embrace and gave her a squeeze.
Madeline looked around the cabin. “Where’s Christine? Who came in the car? Is he… Is Reginald Jones—?”
“Dead. You’re safe. Christine is outside with Reynolds. He was wounded—”
Madeline shot upright. “Oh my God. Is he okay? Did he get shot?”
“Shh, baby,” he began while running his hands all over her. “He’ll be fine, just a leg. It will heal… Help is on its way.”
Parker pulled back to look at Madeline. “Are you okay? I need to go help Christine. Can you stay here on the bed and wait for backup to arrive?” Parker rose from the floor with Madeline in his grip and set her gently on the bed.
When he leaned in to lightly run his lips over hers, she sucked the warmth from him into herself. “I’ll be fine. But do you need my help? Shouldn’t I do…something?”
“No. Just wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.” With that, Parker was gone, taking his powerful strength with him, leaving Madeline to shake uncontrollably on the edge of the bed. She had to lie back to avoid falling on the floor. Once again curled in a fetal position, Madeline forced her body to relax. Deep breaths, Madeline… In… Out…
Just when she thought she would be able to breathe like a normal human being again and not hyperventilate, a loud whirring sound filled the air. Madeline bolted upright and glared into the empty space of the cabin while the whipping sound got louder and louder, trees blowing around hectically outside the broken window, debris flying all over the room.
Parker burst into the room and ran over to Madeline, grabbing her around the waist and carrying her to the door. “Time to go. Your chariot has arrived.” He smiled at her, but she was not reassured. A sense of dread worked its way up her spine and sent her into a panic.
“What? What are you talking about?” She had to scream to be heard over the loud thunderous commotion. They emerged into the light of day, and Madeline looked up at the object creating all the noise, a huge helicopter hovering over them. There was no place for it to land between the trees and Christine was loading Detective Reynolds into a stretcher to be lifted onto the chopper.
Seeing the detective for the first time brought tears to Madeline’s eyes. Because of her, a man had been shot. A good man. Just doing his job. Protecting people. Saving lives. Saving her life.
She watched while Reynolds was hauled up into the large metal bird above her, her hair blowing in all directions, making it difficult to see.
In record time, the cage that had carried the detective up to the chopper was once again lowered to the ground.
No. No. No. Parker carried Madeline over toward it. She struggled to stand up, to get him to release her. “No. I can’t. I won’t. Please. Parker. Don’t make me leave you!”
He had to scream to be heard as her scrambling efforts increased. “Baby, you have to go with Reynolds for now. I need to wait here for the authorities… Please, don’t look at me like that. I’ll be right behind you. Madeline, I promise. I love you.”
Parker placed her now limp body into the carrier and strapped her in securely. Madeline stared at him, feeling defeated and betrayed. How can he do this to me? Why? She needed him. Couldn’t he see that?
In seconds the heavy cord around the basket pulled Madeline into the air, whizzing toward the helicopter and safety. It would not seem safe though, not without Parker.
Chapter Seventeen
Parker had stared into those haunted eyes and known he’d broken her heart. It had tugged at his soul and left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. But, a madman had lain on the ground dead next to him, and his one-time partner had stood beside him, unwittingly drawn into this disaster. Parker had no choice at the time but to stay and clean up the aftermath, deal with the local aut
horities and ensure Christine was safely ensconced once again in her life of leisure.
It was his job.
Now, three days later, Parker stood outside the door of the largest mansion he’d ever visited. His gut clenched, and he couldn’t bring himself to reach for the knocker. Would she even be willing to see him? Would her father let him in the door?
Parker paced for a moment at the entrance. All thoughts of what he might say fled his mind. “Sir, I’m in love with your daughter.” Right. That’ll go over well. He chewed on his thumbnail. And hell, that was just to attain entrance. Then he was going to have to face a very angry Madeline. Parker’s shoulders sagged. She hadn’t taken any of his calls. His work was cut out for him, but she wasn’t going to escape him that easily.
Suddenly, the door opened in front of him before he had a chance to finish his pondering.
Parker whipped to face the entrance and pulled himself to his full height.
A stately older gentleman stood regally in the doorframe, reminding Parker of the entrance to Buckingham Palace. The tall slender man with graying hair cleared his throat and began, “Sir? Are you going to stand out here all day? Or were you planning to knock?”
Shit. It hadn’t occurred to Parker that someone might have seen him out there. Surely this was not Dr. Cooper. No. Madeline had mentioned a barrage of servants that lived with her.
“Sorry, I… I need to speak to Mr. um… I mean Dr. Cooper.” So articulate. Way to go, Parker.
“He’s not in at the moment.” Was the guy swallowing a grin? “Please… Come in.” He stood back with a wave of his hand and motioned Parker into the house.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid he was called away for an emergency surgery about an hour ago. He won’t be back until late tonight. Perhaps there’s someone else who could help you?” Oh, yes, he was definitely mocking Parker. Why? Did he even know who he was?
While Parker stared at the butler, assessing the strange situation, he couldn’t bring himself to speak. So the man continued, “George Anderson, pleased to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” He reached out his hand.
Is this guy kidding? He’s never seen me before. He has no idea… Madeline. Parker smiled at the realization. “Is she mad?” Parker took George’s hand in a firm grip. Madeline had mentioned that she was extremely close to the staff. They were, in fact, her only friends.
“Madder than a hatter, yes.” George chuckled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Where…is she?” Parker was not looking forward to her wrath, but he had to face it sooner or later, because he sure was not letting her go, ever again.
“Upstairs. Hasn’t come out of her rooms since she got back. Says she never wants to see you again.” Now George was full on laughing. And this is funny how?
Parker took a deep breath. “I guess I have some groveling to do, huh?”
“I would say so. No time like the present. Follow me.” George turned to walk toward the stairs, his shoulders heaving under his struggle to compose himself.
Parker pulled at the collar of his shirt. He’d purposefully chosen the oxford-style, blue dress shirt, khaki pants, and loafers for the visit, assuming he would be facing Dr. Cooper first. A suit may have been more practical, but Parker didn’t own one. Now the material was irritating his neck, and he reached to unbutton the first few buttons on the way up the stairs. Was it hot in here?
George led Parker down a long corridor and finally came to a stop. “Good luck, sir.” He walked away, not even trying to contain his chuckles.
A tentative knock brought no response, so Parker took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.
At first he could see nothing. It was dark in the room, and his eyes needed to adjust to the lack of sunlight. Maybe George had been wrong and Madeline was not even in the house.
The large room was in a state of disarray, clothes flung on the floor, discarded in haste. It was a decidedly feminine room, but thank God it wasn’t some putrid pink color. Parker didn’t think he could stand it if Madeline were particularly girly. No, it was a woman’s room, on second thought. Not a holdover from her childhood.
The walls were a simple beige, and as Parker’s eyes adjusted to the lack of light, the rest of the furnishings revealed themselves to be various shades of brown with just the right amount of rose and blue mixed in, feminine, but not too girly.
He didn’t spot Madeline at first and hadn’t even moved from the doorway when he heard the distinct sound of deep breathing, that of sleep.
Parker smiled, pulled the door shut behind him, intentionally locking it, and quietly made his way to the bed. There, deep under the covers, was the love of his life. The woman he wanted to spend every waking and sleeping moment with for the rest of eternity, if she would have him.
The comforter was luxurious, expensive. Beige with an intricate pattern of mauve and light blue threads woven into the material.
Parker would’ve liked to stay there staring at her peaceful sleeping form forever, but he needed to hold her, have her in his arms. And that could only be accomplished by rousing her and taking on her wrath first.
Parker sat on the edge of the bed next to Madeline’s temporarily tranquil form and gently laid a hand on her arm. “Madeline?” he whispered through his clogged throat.
“Hmmm,” was her only initial response as she snuggled deeper under the covers and turned to the side, facing him. Her expression was so relaxed. A slight smile on her lips. At least she would wake from a good dream instead of a nightmare to find this intruder in her room. Parker hesitated to consider himself a welcome intruder. In fact, his hand shook against her shoulder.
“Honey?” he continued, a slight rise in his volume.
Madeline’s eyes shot open, and she bolted to a sitting position. “What? Parker? What are you doing here?” She instinctively pulled the blankets up around her shoulders to cover her state of semi undress, but not before Parker noticed she was wearing…one of his T-shirts? He smiled. Where did she get that?
“It’s okay,” he soothed. Maybe this was going to go better than he expected. Obviously she’d been back to Nebraska, rescued some of her belongings and some of his as well. A lump rose to Parker’s throat. She may be furious, but she did love him.
“You…you left me.” She dropped the covers to plow her fists into Parker’s chest, not with any real force, but as a means to make her point.
Parker reached for her wrists and pulled her hands to his lips. He smiled as she marginally relaxed, and he leaned in to kiss each of her soft feminine fingers.
“I had to take care of some things. I had a pile of paperwork, a dead body, and an ex-partner to settle up with. I’m here now.” He looked into her deep blue eyes. Tears silently fell down her cheeks. It killed him a little that he’d hurt her.
“I… I didn’t think you would come back… I was afraid,” she choked on a sob, “what we had wasn’t real.” Madeline’s face was white with her very real fear. “You came back.”
She reached for his neck and pulled him into her embrace. Parker breathed a long sigh of relief. This was not going nearly as badly as he’d expected nor as George had presumably considered it would go. She’d been scared, afraid it was over, that he wouldn’t come to her.
“I told you I would be here as soon as I could, baby.” Parker pulled Madeline into the tightest hug of his life, never wanting to release her warmth again. He mumbled into her ear and ran his hands up and down her back over her long hair, ensuring himself she was indeed real, was indeed his. Her hair was soft and slightly damp. Parker inhaled her floral shampoo, his nose buried in the long tresses.
“The situation was so unreal. I couldn’t be sure.” Madeline took a deep breath. “What…what are you wearing?”
What am I wearing? Where did that come from?
Madeline pulled back to inspect Parker from a distance of a few inches. She ran her delicate fingertips over the front of his chest, her gaze meandering down to his pants, causing his cock t
o swell with need when she lingered at his crotch.
As her head lifted back up to face him, she continued. “Why, Parker Phillips, you clean up nicely.” She smiled. A smile that melted his heart. “Did you do this for me? I’ve never seen you in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Well…not exactly. I had thought…” What was he supposed to say? I had thought to impress your father?
Madeline laughed. “Daddy… You thought you were going to be entertaining my father. How noble.” She ran her hands up his arms and down his chest. His breathing increased. He needed her. Now. “Well, seeing as he’s not here right now… I don’t think you need all this white-collar clothing at the moment.”
There is a God.
Madeline’s tiny fingers released the buttons of Parker’s shirt, one excruciating little disk at a time. His heart pounded with need. When she finally released the last button from its hole, he lifted slightly while she pulled the starchy shirt out of his pants and then pushed it off his shoulders.
Thank goodness he’d left the sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up, otherwise he would now have been imprisoned in the stiff material like handcuffs. And he desperately wanted his hands available to explore Madeline’s entire body.
Parker leaned over Madeline and pushed her tiny form into the soft mattress to lie on top of her, his chest bare, the only material between them his favorite University of Milwaukee T-shirt. It looked much sexier on her than it ever had on him. Perhaps he would let her keep it.
Tenderly kissing Madeline’s lips, cheeks, ears, and anywhere else his mouth happen to fall, Parker reached up to grasp her sweet globes with each hand. He gently squeezed and kneaded the soft flesh until she writhed beneath him, her nipples poking out through the thin fabric of the T-shirt.
“Parker…” She was glassy-eyed when he gazed into her deep blue eyes.
Parker wanted to explore her entire body, ensure she was truly real, unscathed, whole. He’d had nightmares that she’d been shot.
He reached lower and whipped the shirt over her head to expose her beautiful chest to his perusal. She was so sexy. Her nipples were a deep shade of pink and she lifted them toward him, silently begging him to touch her. Parker lowered his mouth to one mound and sucked the sweet disk in while reaching to weigh and fondle the other breast, avoiding the protruding nipple.
Guarding the Truth Page 18
