Chapter Eight
“I can’t stay in this cabin forever.” Shelly paced in front of the fireplace. “I’m going stir-crazy. We’ve been inside all day long.”
John sprawled on the couch. She could feel his eyes on her.
It had been close to three a.m. before Blane and his deputies left her property.
After he’d left, she hadn’t exactly gotten a lot of sleep.
She’d tossed and turned for hours, finally drifting off just before dawn.
Nightmares had haunted the brief sleep she’d gotten.
Blane had told her that she needed to stay out of sight while his men kept patrolling the area. She kept waiting to get the all-clear from him, but so far, no such call had come. The day was nearly gone now, with deep shadows sliding across the mountain as sunset crept closer.
“What do you want to do?”
John’s voice was so low and deep, and it cut right through her.
They hadn’t talked about the sex. The incredible, mind-numbing sex.
They’d been too distracted by John’s near arrest and the fact that someone had sabotaged Blane’s brakes.
She’d been nervous around John all day long, too jumpy.
So when he asked her what she wanted to do… in that voice that was pure sex appeal…
You. I’d like to do you.
“Your heart rate just kicked up,” John noted quietly.
She put her hand over her heart. “What?”
His head tilted as he stared at her. “I can hear it. It’s beating so much faster now. Are you scared?”
No, not scared. Or at least, she hadn’t been, not until he’d said he could hear her heart beating.
“And your breathing is faster.” He rose from the couch. Stalked toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“S-someone is playing dangerous games,” she stumbled over her words. “And I’m trapped here with a super soldier who can hear my heart beating. I think I might be entitled to a little freak out, don’t you?”
His lips thinned. “I brought danger to you.”
“No, you saved—”
“Blane thinks I’m the target. Not you.”
Blane. Not Sheriff Blane, not anymore. One fist fight, and now they seemed to be besties.
“I’m the one with the screwed-up past. The lab I was in, baby, I only got out because someone blew it to hell and back. I’m an experiment, a freak—”
“Don’t!” She didn’t want him talking that way about himself, not ever.
“Maybe I was supposed to stay dead when that lab exploded. But you know me…” His lips hitched into a humorless smile. “Staying dead isn’t easy for me.”
And she was very glad for that particular fact. She grabbed his shirt-front and held tight. “Don’t joke.”
“I’m not.” There was no humor in his eyes. “I’ve been considering this all day. I think Blane is right. I think I’m the target. I had it in my head that you were in danger. That I had to find you, but all I did was bring the danger to you.”
She didn’t like the hard note in his voice. Or the way that his expression seemed so cold. “John?”
“I thought by staying that I’d keep you safe. But I’m wondering if you would be far better without me. If I leave, I can lure the attacker away, I can stop him, I can—”
“Put a big, giant target on your back? No, dammit, no.”
“The shooter is after me.”
She shook her head, hard. “You don’t know that.
My family…my dad, he was really wealthy, okay?
Very, very wealthy. He invented all kinds of things and made a million-dollar business.
When he died, the money went to me and my brother.
” Her words were tumbling out. “But my brother was killed this year. Stabbed in his house. And now there’s just me.
What if…what if I am the target? I swear…
” Now she walked away from him. Stood in front of the fire.
Stared at the flames as her arms wrapped around her stomach.
“I used to think someone was watching me,” she whispered.
“Shelly…”
“Back in Miami. I promise, I could almost feel him.” She licked dry lips.
“I told my brother about it, and he confessed that we had enemies. Said he’d done a few deals that he shouldn’t have taken.
But he told me, Charles promised me that he’d take care of things.
That he’d eliminate any threats.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“Two days later, Charles was dead. I was alone, and my whole life felt wrecked.”
The floor creaked behind her. “What kind of deals did your brother take?”
She rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. “I don’t even know. I wasn’t involved in the business. I never wanted to be. My dad and Charles loved the work. The pressure. I didn’t want to be involved in that world.” She stared into the fire. “I—”
“You paint. You sketch. You spend hours getting lost with your work.”
Yes, she did. Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I didn’t realize you’d gone down to my studio.
” Her studio was on the basement level of the house, and she hadn’t gone in it, hadn’t been able to open the door because since her brother’s death, she’d felt so dead inside, too.
Charles had been her confidant. Her constant.
Without him, she’d lost so much of her joy in life.
Her main studio was in Miami, but Charles had put one in the cabin for her, too. She’d often become inspired in the mountains. She’d get lost with her work. No, I used to get lost.
John’s brow furrowed. “Your studio?”
“The one downstairs. I—”
“I haven’t been in your studio. The first night, you told me not to go down to the next level of the cabin, and I haven’t.”
Goosebumps rose on her arms.
“I’ve…seen you paint.” His words were halting. “Seen you in a room with soft blue walls, with easels spread all around you. Your hair is in a ponytail and you wear paint-stained jeans.”
Her goosebumps got worse.
“You paint late into the night, and when you leave the little studio, you aren’t safe enough. You go out onto the street, not even looking around you as you hurry to find a cab.”
Silence. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. The studio he was describing—it was her place in Miami. She’d painted the walls blue to match the ocean.
“I’ve scared you.”
Yes, he had. “Is my heart racing too fast again?”
“I can see the fear on your face.” His words held no emotion. “I think…I think I was hired to watch you.”
Now she turned to fully face him. “Run that by me again.”
He scraped a hand over the stubble on his jaw.
“I had a memory. At least, I think that’s what it was.
While you were sleeping last night, when we were in bed together, this vision slipped into my head.
I was in an office, some guy in a suit was hiring me, telling me to watch you. He gave me your picture.”
Her heart wasn’t just racing. It was about to burst right out of her chest. “Describe the man to me.”
“About my height. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Nose was a little hawkish, looked like it might have been broken once before. He had a cleft in his chin—”
Her eyes closed and things started to make a whole lot more sense to her.
“His nose was broken because he got into a fight when he was fifteen. Some jerks were making fun of his little sister, so he challenged them all after school. Took on four boys for her.” She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.
“Shelly?”
She didn’t speak as she turned away from him.
When she’d called and asked Sammy to get the cabin ready for her, she’d given him a few special instructions.
The very first thing she’d asked him to do was remove all the family photos.
She just hadn’t been up to looking at them.
Not ready to see what she’d lost. So she’d had Sammy put those photos in her studio.
She’d known she wasn’t ready to paint. So the studio had seemed like a safe place.
She hurried down the stairs that would take her to the basement level of the cabin. The key to the studio hung on a blue ribbon next to the shut door. She took that ribbon even as she heard John following behind her. She slid the key into the lock and swung the door open.
Easels filled the room. Paint stained the floor.
Huge windows looked out at the mountains.
Because the cabin had been built on the edge of the mountain, the basement level still had a killer view.
She loved that view—being able to stare straight into the sunset.
But she wasn’t looking at the view right then.
Instead, she headed for the big, old fashioned trunk that sat near the back wall.
She opened the trunk and saw the framed photos inside.
The very top photo was of her and her brother.
They were surrounded by snow. Last Christmas.
They’d come to the cabin. Even made a snowman as they laughed and just enjoyed being away from everyone and everything else.
Her heart ached at the sight of the photo.
Charles had such a big grin on his face.
His cheeks were red from the cold and the photographer—Blane—had caught him mid-laugh.
“Is this the man…the man in your vision who hired you?” She turned the photo toward a quiet John.
His fingers brushed over hers as he took the frame. “Yes.”
The ache in her chest just got worse. “My brother—he hired you.” Puzzle pieces slipped into place for her.
“He was worried about some business deals. Always so overprotective.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“He must have gotten you to be my bodyguard. He tried to tell me a few times that I needed one, but I just blew him off.” A weak laugh spilled from her.
“Big brother to the rescue again. He hired you and didn’t tell me, and that’s why you have memories of me.
I must have been your last big case in Miami before—before… ”
“Before I was stabbed and left to die?”
Her breath rushed out. “My brother was stabbed, too.” Her gaze met John’s. “You were working for him. It seems like a pretty big coincidence that you both were attacked that way.”
His head inclined. “Yes, it does.”