Hide and Seek - Lara Adrian Page 0,3

motherfucker, and I’ll blow your damn head off.”

She froze instantly, even as the deep, dark molasses sound of John Duarte’s voice and Southern accent set her pulse racing with relief. “Don’t shoot.” She swallowed, tried to catch her racing breath. Rain pelting her hooded head, she braved a slight glance over her shoulder. “John, don’t shoot. It’s me, Lisa. Um...Lisa Becker.”

There was silence for a brief moment, then Duarte’s curse hissed out on a sharp exhalation. She heard movement behind her, heard him disarm his weapon before he started scrambling down into the sodden trench to reach her. He gave her his hand and helped her to her feet. “Lisa. Jesus fucking Christ.”

She hadn’t expected a warm greeting, but his disapproving scowl stung anyway.

Her first glimpse of him took her aback. He looked very different now, even in the dark. A beard covered part of his cheeks and square jaw. His espresso-brown hair was longer, thick waves instead of the high-and-tight Marine trim he’d always worn whenever Lisa had seen him before.

But, oh God, he was just as heartbreakingly handsome as ever. Still had those dark, intense eyes that could melt a woman right out of her panties. And that line of perfect white teeth that was so devastating when he smiled, but was currently bared at her in a snarl.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Now that she was standing in front of him, even though he couldn’t look less pleased to see her, emotions rose up on Lisa like a wave. Her words tumbled out in a breathless rush. “I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, anyone else to trust...”

His expression hardened even more as she spoke. “Tell me why you’re here, Lisa.”

“It’s Kyle.” She saw suspicion edge into Duarte’s level gaze at the mention of her brother’s name. Along with an instant flicker of concern. She was tempted to call it dread. “I think something’s happened to him, John. Something really bad. He tried to send me a warning today. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do.”

Duarte ground out another low curse. “We shouldn’t talk out here.” Calm words, but there was an intensity in the way he lifted his head to scan the dark forest that surrounded them. “You came alone?”

“Yes,” she said, shuddering as a chill swept over her.

He grunted, but his frown didn’t lessen. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

She took a step and grimaced as her ankle protested the shift of her weight.

He eyed her with a scowl. “You’re injured?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. When I slipped, I twisted my ankle a little, but I’m—”

Duarte didn’t wait for her to explain any further.

Hoisting her up onto his shoulder as if her hundred-and-thirty-odd pounds was no effort at all, he carried her out of the trench like a wounded soldier and didn’t put her down until they had reached his cabin.

3

Duarte sat Lisa down on his couch then went into the bathroom to grab a couple of fresh towels out of the cabinet. As he collected what he needed, he stole a quick glance into the other room where she waited. Huddled in her wet jacket, she shivered on the edge of the cushion, her hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks, water dripping off the shoulder-length strands.

Christ, after all this time, it really was her.

The reality of it knocked him back. Just as it had the moment he’d realized it was her lying outside in the muddy wash down by the cabin’s trail, his gun trained on her in the dark.

Lisa.

Lisa Becker, she’d said. As if he needed the clarification.

Sure, it had been a while, but she was his best friend’s sister. Duarte had known her for a few years before they last saw each other, and hell, it wasn’t like he was going to forget her.

No, he recalled every square inch of her... more intimately than either of them had planned on that day he’d brought her up to the cabin five years ago.

It had been a momentary loss of sanity—and control—for both of them. More so for him.

His best friend’s little sister, for fuck’s sake. Though even then, at twenty-three, Lisa had been plenty old enough to make her own decisions.

Looking at her sitting in his living room now, Duarte had to blink a couple of times to convince his brain that this wasn’t some twisted repeat of that other time. Five years ago, she’d sat in that very same spot.