Fatal Secrets - Desiree Holt Page 0,58
a safe place.
And hungry. She’d either been on a plane or driving most of the day. Digging in the console, she found the last of a package of snack crackers and chowed them down. Calmer now, she put the car in Drive and pulled out onto the roadway again. It pissed her off that even after all these years, any little tiny piece of memory could still set off a panic attack. With effort she focused on the highway and the magnificent scenery on either side. The beauty of the Crazy Mountains and Yellowstone National Park should be enough to soothe anyone, right?
Then she remembered Grey’s insistence on the bodyguard. Even now, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream or be grateful. She was more than grateful for Grey’s friendship. He had been her rock so many times when she’d been on the edge of a meltdown. But, except for him, she had enough trouble dealing with men as it was. How would she be able to handle having one around twenty-four seven?
She was still talking to herself when she rounded a curve in the road and found herself in the little enclave of log cabins. Twenty of them. That’s what the rental agent had told her, but each one far enough from the others to ensure privacy. Every porch had a number on it so she cruised slowly down the road, checking each one.
Then she realized she didn’t need any number at all. A big pickup truck was parked in front of cabin fourteen, and a tall, lean man who looked as if he ate nails for breakfast stood on the porch. He was well over six feet, his dark-brown hair slightly shaggy, framing a face defined by high cheekbones and a beard that shielded his jaw.
Warrior. That was her first thought.
Her second was, He doesn’t look very friendly. She could almost see the wall around him.
And third? Here stood the first man to ever kindle a tiny flame of desire and penetrate the ice that enclosed her body. A need that made her nipples harden and an unfamiliar throbbing set up in the heart of her sex. Oh my god! How did this happen right now, of all times, after years of failure and closing herself off? She wasn’t sure she’d even know how to act. Life was playing an unfair trick on her.
Exactly how was she supposed to do this now?
Bodyguard, she reminded herself. That’s what he was and all he was going to be. But she trembled nevertheless at the sudden assault of unfamiliar feelings.
Stop it! Now!
She had to keep telling herself she’d be a big disappointment to him.
She parked next to him and climbed out of the SUV, stretching a little because, between the plane and the rental vehicle, she’d been sitting a lot today.
“Hello.” She managed a smile for him. Be friendly, she told herself. You’ll be sharing a cabin—actually everything every day—for the duration of this trip.
But she guessed smiles were not in his repertoire because he just nodded, his face a stone mask. Then he walked down the two steps to the little parking area and held out his hand.
“Scot Nolan.”
Oh, well. At least he was courteous.
“Jenna Donovan.”
“I know.” He shook her hand once then dropped it.
Inexplicably, her hand tingled from the contact and heat shot up her arm. What the hell?
He shifted his stance, moving his head slowly from left to right.
Jenna looked around, her forehead creased in a frown. She didn’t see anyone near them. A little way down the road, she saw a couple with two kids climbing into a van, but they didn’t seem very dangerous.
“You think someone is watching us? I’m not sure anyone even knows I’m here yet.”
“Did you call the sheriff before you flew out here?”
“I did, but I didn’t exactly get a warm reception.”
Scot lifted one eyebrow. “What did he say?”
She nodded. “I told him I had read about the murders and wanted to get some details from him. He told me he couldn’t release information in an ongoing investigation. He also wanted to know what possible interest I could have in a case way out here in the boonies.”
“I’m sure you know that’s pretty much standard in situations like this.”
She sighed. “Yes, but I was kind of hoping I could talk him into at least sharing some information with me. He sounded more irritated than anything. Still, he did agree, grudgingly, to meet with me, after I told him I’d camp out in his lobby until he did.”
“Do you want me to call Hank and see if he can put some pressure on him?”
Jenna shook her head. “No, thanks. That would only piss him off more. I’ll see what he has to say to me in person. “
“He could be under a lot of pressure from a number of different factions,” Scot pointed out. “Nobody outside of his office has made the connection between the rapes and the killings because no one knows about the rapes. Right? If this guy is as powerful as you think, and he’s really from around here, it’s possible he’s got a line into the sheriff’s office to bury this.”
Her jaw dropped. “Bury nine rapes? Nine murders?”
Scot shrugged. “It’s not unheard of. And if that’s true, he probably already knows you’re chasing this.”
Her stomach muscles clenched. She’d thought about that but hoped she could do it under the radar. Stupid of her.
“You’re right.” Of course he was.
“Let’s get your stuff inside.”
Scot headed for her SUV. When he moved, his untucked shirt shifted, and she saw a gun tucked into the small of his back. She’d seen enough artillery doing her stories to recognize it as a Glock 19. Well! At least he had good firepower.
“I can get my stuff,” she protested, pressing the fob to unlock the hatch.
“No problem. I’ve got it. Then we’ll go over the ground rules.”
Ground rules? Was she being protected or kept a prisoner.? Thanks, Grey.
But she could hear his voice in her head.
“Better pissed off than dead.”
About Desiree Holt
USA Today best-selling and award-winning author Desiree Holt writes everything from romantic suspense and contemporary on a variety of heat levels up to erotic, a genre in which she is the oldest living author. She has been referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, and is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.
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