She stared at him in horror. California? Was it possible Hank worked for Cameron Collier? That he was a hired hand paid to return Colette to the man who apparently wanted her dead?
Half blind with panic, she fumbled to open the passenger door, needing to run, escape from him. With a hissed curse, he reached across the seat and grabbed her arm.
“What are you trying to do, kill yourself? Or maybe you think you can jump from a speeding car with a baby in your arms and both of you will be just fine?”
As if on cue, Brook began to wail. Colette released her hold on the door handle and hugged the baby tight. Oh, God, he was right. She swallowed hard against the panic, realizing that for the moment she was helpless to do anything to change what was happening. She couldn’t risk jumping from the car and he didn’t seem to be in the mood to pull over and let her out.
Her mind whirled, more clear than it had been in hours. California was a long way from here. If she bided her time and was patient, an opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She stroked Brook’s dark hair, her gaze divided between the baby in her arms and the man driving the car. Why hadn’t she suspected he might be more than he appeared? Why hadn’t she been more wary of his sensual charm, his seductive behavior?
Beneath his harsh good looks, she now recognized a steely strength that could only radiate from a cold, hard heart. She’d tasted the warmth of his kiss without realizing the bitterness of cold calculation that hid beneath.
Damn her for being a fool. She’d reacted to him as a female when she should have responded with more wariness. “Why are you taking me to California? Do you work for Cameron Collier?”
His dark gaze shot to her. “How do you know Cameron Collier? Is your memory returning?”
“No. Abby told me I was working for him in California and yesterday I called his office. So, do you work for him or not?”
“No, Colette.” He turned and flashed her a tight smile. “I’m one of the good guys.”
One of the good guys? Then why were his eyes filled with such secrets? Why did she get the feeling he spoke only half-truths? And why, oh, why, if he was a good guy did something about him still cause a responding sense of dread, of deep betrayal in her?
“I think the best thing to do is find a motel to hole up in for the night, then we can take off fresh in the morning,” he said more to himself than to her. “Once we get settled in someplace, I’ll explain everything to you, but at the moment you’d better buckle up your seat belt because I think we’ve got a tail.”
Colette whirled around in the seat and looked behind them, where a car sped toward them, road dust whirling from the tires. The car was still too far away for her to discern make or color, but it was gaining fast. She hurriedly buckled her seat belt, wishing there was a car seat for Brook.
Hank pressed on the gas pedal, his knuckles white as his entire body tensed. Colette could almost feel the adrenaline flooding through him, radiating off him as the car behind them came closer…closer. It was now close enough that she could tell it was a dark blue sedan, but too far away to see the driver. “Do you recognize the car?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. But that doesn’t mean anything. There are a dozen places on the ranch it could have been parked and nobody would have seen it.”
“Maybe he’s just in a hurry and wants to pass us,” she said optimistically. “Maybe you’re being paranoid and he has nothing to do with us.”
“I don’t think so. Get down.” The last two words were a staccato command accompanied by him pulling her head and shoulders down in the space between them on the seat. At the same moment Colette heard a sound like the crack of backfire.
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, realizing the sound was gunfire. She screamed as the car careened, throwing her first against the passenger door, then hard up against Hank’s thigh.
Brook stopped crying, apparently lulled by the crazy back and forth motion of the car. For a moment the only sounds were the roar of the car engine, Hank’s steady breathing and Colette’s heartbeat pounding in her ear.
Colette refused to believe her life would end here, on a narrow two-lane highway, never knowing the father of her child or the reason for her death.
“If we can just get into the city, we can get lost amid the other traffic. Out here we’re sitting ducks,” Hank said, then muttered a curse as another shot rang out.
“If you haven’t passed it yet, there’s a road on the left that’s a shortcut into Cheyenne. It’s right after a big white house with a mailbox that looks like a barn. The road looks like nothing more than a cow path, but it’s a straight shot into the center of Cheyenne.”
Hank shot her a suspicious look. “How do you know that?”
How did she? She had no idea. “I don’t know, it’s one of the crazy things I do remember. Believe me, Hank. At the moment the guy behind us with the gun is a much bigger problem than you are. Why would I lie about the road?”
He didn’t answer. “If we can just keep far enough away from him, he can’t do much damage. In a little while it will be dark and that will work in our favor.”
He was right. Colette hadn’t realized the golden hue of twilight had deepened to the purple shadows of dusk’s last gasp. She prayed for the sweet darkness of night in which to hide.
First she and Hank would hide from the man with the gun, then once that danger had passed, she and Brook would hide from Hank.
* * *
HANK YANKED the wheel for a hard left when he spotted the road Colette had told him about. He grunted in satisfaction as he saw that the car behind them didn’t make the turn. Good. Although he knew their pursuer would quickly right his error, even a moment of time might give them the lead they needed to evade him.
He only hoped Colette hadn’t been foolish enough to lie to him about where this particular road led. He looked down to where Colette was still hunched, half lying on the seat next to him, her head pressed against his thigh.
Her hair was a chestnut spill against his faded blue jeans and her perfume filled the interior of the car. Despite the tenseness of their predicament, Hank felt a stir of desire.
He gripped the steering wheel more tightly, fighting down the emotion. It had been his selfish lust that had gotten things so screwed up in the first place. He didn’t intend to make the same mistake again.
He’d always been very good at control, and he intended to maintain tight control on himself and the situation until Colette’s role in this particular drama was over. Then he’d walk away, as always unscathed and alone.
Although he’d intended to use seduction to get her to leave the ranch with him, seduction was no longer necessary, and in fact would only further complicate matters.
Pressing on the gas pedal in an attempt to lengthen their lead, he glanced in the rearview mirror, satisfied that for the moment no other cars were in sight. Still, he knew for the next couple of weeks he’d have his work cut out for him.
Cameron Collier was a powerful man, with long arms for vengeance, and he wouldn’t rest until Colette was eliminated. Collier would spare no expense, no manpower, to find them. For the next sixteen days, Hank knew he and Colette would find themselves the rodents in a deadly game of cat and mouse.
He breathed a sigh of relief as houses and traffic began to appear, letting him know they were approaching the city limits.
Within minutes darkness had fallen completely and Hank began to relax. “You can sit up now,” he said.
She pulled herself upright and looked around, visibly relaxing as she realized they’d made it into town. “What do we do now?”
“We drive around for a while, make sure we don’t have a tail, then find someplace to hole up for the night.”
“Hank, please just take me back to the ranch.” Her eyes were wide, glazed with suppressed tears. “I—we’ll pay you. My sisters and I will give you whatever you want.”
“I don’t want money. Besides, with the financial state of that ranch, you and your sisters couldn’t get up a decent ransom between you,” he scoffed. “This isn’t about money. It’s about murder.”
“Murder?” Colette’s voice squeaked and Hank damned himself for saying it so bluntly.
“I told you, I’ll explain everything when we get settled someplace for the night.”
“Then you better get us settled right now because I want some answers,” Colette retorted.
Yes, it was time to get settled for the night, time for Colette to get some answers. He was aware that he walked a fine line. Too few answers and she wouldn’t understand her place in the scheme of things, too many answers and she’d run the first chance she got.
A lot of people were depending on her to get her memory back, but with it would come memories that would make her hate him. He’d just have to deal with her hate, he had to keep focused on the importance of the bigger picture, not the frailty of human emotions.
Confident that they were not being followed, Hank pulled into the parking lot of the Sleepy-Time Motel. “Not exactly four stars, but it will do for the night,” he said. He hesitated before getting out.
If he went into the office to rent a room, would she and the baby still be here in the car when he came back out?
The alternative was to take her inside with him, inside where she could scream that he’d kidnapped her, inside where she could make a scene. The last thing he needed was anything that would draw attention to them.
He had to trust that her curiosity alone would keep her with him until she got some answers. “Once we’re in the room, I’ll tell you everything,” he said as he got out of the car.
Colette watched him walk into the office and knew now was her chance to escape. All she had to do was find a phone, call Abby, and her sisters would come and get her. But she hesitated.
Hank had led her to believe he held all the answers to everything that had haunted her from the moment she’d become conscious in that motel room in Las Vegas. She desperately needed those answers. If she ran now, she’d never know what, exactly, she was running from.
If I don’t run now, I’m a fool, she told herself. Who knew when another opportunity for escape would present itself? She opened the car door, the noise awakening Brook, who yelled an angry yowl.
As she saw Hank returning to the car, she realized the opportunity to escape was lost. She’d taken too long to make up her mind. She slammed her door, at the same time soothing Brook. Hopefully the chance for escape would come once again.
“Room 124,” he said as he scooted into the driver seat.
When they found the room, she wondered if he’d specifically asked for one in the back, where their car would not be visible from the main road.
The room was typical of every cheap motel room in every city in every state of the union. Two full-size beds covered in worn gold spreads, a nightstand scarred with stains and cigarette burns and, beneath their feet, gold shag carpeting merely added to the depressing decor. The whole room seemed to breathe deep hopelessness, abiding despair.
Colette placed Brook, who had fallen asleep, into the center of one of the beds, then turned and looked at Hank expectantly. “Okay, we’re here. We’re settled. Now I want some answers.”
Hank kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head. His posture was unconsciously sensual, evoking a whisper of déjà vu in Colette as his dark eyes played over her.
Had he looked at her that way the night they’d supposedly had their one-night stand? Had his eyes been so sensually dark and hot, so filled with suppressed emotions? Or was she remembering another time, another man? She pushed these thoughts aside, needing to focus on the main issue.
“You told me in the car that you’re one of the good guys. So, what exactly does that mean?”
He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. He flipped it open and tossed it to the foot of the bed. It remained open, displaying a badge and an identification card.
Colette picked it up and read the card. Hank Cooper. U.S. Marshal. She threw the wallet back to him. “Just because you’re a marshal doesn’t mean you’re one of the good guys,” she replied, although in truth this piece of information took the edge off her fear of him.
“True, I suppose. But in your case, I’m on your side.”
Colette sat on the edge of the bed where he remained stretched out. “So, exactly what is my case?”
He sat up and plumped the pillows behind his shoulders. Colette eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was stalling to get his story straight or if he’d merely been uncomfortable.
He settled back once again, his gaze unwavering on her. “In less than three weeks you are scheduled to appear in court to give testimony against Cameron Collier on murder charges.”
Although somehow in some deep part of her his words didn’t surprise her, a chill waltzed up her spine. “Murder charges? Did I see the murder?” she asked. Certainly the trauma of seeing somebody killed would explain her amnesia. She wouldn’t want to remember such a heinous thing.
Hank shook his head. “You didn’t see the murder, but you heard the payoff between Collier and the man he hired. It was a contract killing.”
She’d been working late when she heard voices coming from Mr. Collier’s office. The dream that had haunted Colette night after night suddenly made perfect sense.
It had been her memories reaching out to her in the darkness of night, in the fragments of dreams. “I remember…bits and pieces. Hearing something that frightened me, then somebody chasing me.”
“You managed to get away and went directly to the police. They immediately made arrangements to put you with us in protective custody.”
“When…when was this?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around herself, fighting against an inner chill. “When did all of this happen?”
He sat up, his gaze moving from her to the baby on the opposite bed. “About seven months ago. We knew Collier would try to get to you. I was assigned to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“Who was killed? Who was the victim?” she asked, her head reeling.
“A city councilman who intended to vote some zoning that Collier didn’t like. Apparently Collier tried to buy him off first. When that didn’t work he decided to kill him.”
“So what happened? How did I end up alone in Las Vegas? How did I wind up back at the ranch?” Each answer he gave her called for more questions.
“I can’t answer that. All I know is we were in a hotel in California. I left to pick up some things and when I got back you were gone.”
She stared at him searchingly. Although he appeared perfectly relaxed, she sensed the tension of coiled muscles, the watchful wariness of a cunning animal. Again she had the sense that this man could be dangerous, that emotions like compassion, vulnerability…love…had no place in his life.
“When you turned up at the ranch, we figured that was the safest place for you until the trial. At least you’d be with your family.”
“Did we really have a one-night stand in Las Vegas?” she asked as she stood, too keyed up to sit still.
He averted his gaze from hers and grabbed his wallet, then tucked it back into his pocket. “Nah. I thought if I told you that you’d be more likely to come with me when it was time for us to head back to California.”
“So you intended to seduce me with lies.”
He shrugged. “Whatever it took to get the job done.” His lips curved into a wicked smile as his gaze swept over her slowly, sensually. “Although if you understand the rules, I’m certainly game for a little seduction to help pass the time.”
“And what are the rules?”
With one smooth movement he got up off the bed and approached where she stood. Although her instincts screamed for her to back up, not let him get close, her pride kept her rooted to the spot.
“The rules are simple,” he said as one of his hands reached up to stroke her hair. He stood so close to her his warm breath fanned her face and his wild, provocative scent enveloped her as he continued. “No strings,” he explained, his hand leaving her hair and trailing down to the pulse in the hollow of her throat. “No commitment.” He caressed her neck, his hand warm against her flesh. “As long as both parties understand the rules, there’s no harm in a little seduction.”
She knew the pulse in her throat throbbed erratically and her blood had slowed to a languid heavy flow. His touch was like a drug, beckoning her toward surrender as his hand moved from her neck to her shoulder.
For the space of a second she wanted to throw her head back, fall into the seduction she knew would momentarily erase her fears, quiet all questions and reduce her to nothing but physical responses. But the moment passed quickly and irritation took the place of temporary insanity.
“Is seducing those you’re sworn to protect part of your job description?” She moved away from him, relieved to put some distance between them. “So basically, what you’re telling me is that I’m supposed to testify at a trial and that’s why somebody is trying to kill me,” she said, attempting to get the subject back on track.
His eyes flashed darkly and he sat back on the bed. “That’s about the size of it.”
“But how can I testify without my memories?”
“There are a lot of people depending on you getting those memories back before the trial.”
“And if I don’t?”
“They’ll hire the best doctors, try drugs and hypnotherapists…whatever it takes to release those memories.”
“My testimony is that important?”
Hank raked a hand through his thick black hair, his eyes narrowed. “We’ve been trying to get Cameron Collier for years, but the man is smart and has managed to distance himself from every vile act he’s instigated. He’s powerful and evil. Your testimony is our best chance of putting him away permanently.”
Colette rubbed two fingers across her forehead, where a headache had begun an insistent pounding. “I can’t believe this is happening.” She rubbed her forehead once again, then looked back at Hank. “What if I refuse to testify? Then Cameron Collier would leave me alone and everything would be fine.”
“Except you’d be in prison for obstructing justice.”
She gasped. “Surely they wouldn’t do that. I have a daughter. They wouldn’t put me in jail.”
Hank laughed. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking anyone cares whether you’re a mother or not. All these people care about is putting Collier away for a long time behind bars. Besides, don’t be naive enough to think Collier will leave you alone. You’re marked for death as far as he’s concerned.”
“But if you let me go, I could disappear. Collier couldn’t find me and neither could the police.”
He sighed and once again raked a hand through his shiny long hair. “I can’t do that. I have a job to do and I intend to deliver you to the authorities in California when it’s time. Besides, do you want to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?”
Colette sighed in frustration. “It sounds like no matter what I choose to do, that will be the outcome. If I testify and Collier is such a powerful man, what’s to keep him from having somebody come after me even if he’s in prison?” She shivered. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how alone she was in all this, what a no-win situation it was for her.
“Colette, I can’t make you testify. I can only tell you that before you developed amnesia, you wanted to, you knew it was the right thing to do.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind. Just let me go.”
“I told you, I can’t do that. It’s my job to get you to trial, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Over my dead body, Colette thought. She’d rather take her chances against the people in law enforcement than a killer like Collier.
She sank down onto the edge of the bed where Brook lay sleeping. “So before I ran away, your job was to baby-sit me, so to speak?”
“So to speak,” he said dryly. “We were holed up together in a hotel room, mostly getting on each other’s nerves and impatiently biding time.”
Why didn’t she remember any of it? Had the experience of sharing living space with Hank been so unpleasant she’d blocked it out along with the murder? Or was he still telling lies?
She stared at her daughter and realized a very important question had yet to be answered. He’d said this had all begun about seven months before, so she would have already been pregnant when she’d overheard the conversation in Collier’s office. “Do you know who Brook’s father is?” she asked softly.
He stared at her, his eyelids half mast over his dark, glittering eyes. “I don’t know.”
“I didn’t tell you?”
“We shared a room, Colette, we didn’t bare our hearts.” He stood. “I’m going to have to run out and buy some things we’re going to need. Tell me what you need for the kid that won’t wait until morning.”
“Formula, a bottle and diapers,” she said, hoping, praying, he intended to take her with him.
All she needed was one minute of inattention, one second to make a clean escape from him. There was no way she intended to let him get her back to California, no way she intended to risk her life, especially now that she had Brook to consider.
Hopefully in a store she could lose him. She didn’t know what she would do once she evaded him…she’d deal with that particular dilemma when the time came.
“You don’t, uh, breast-feed?” His face reddened slightly.
She shook her head, also feeling the warmth of a blush. “Apparently stress plays havoc with a body. Let’s go.” She stood.
He shook his head and for a brief moment regret flashed in his eyes. “Sorry, it’s safer if I go. You stay here.” He pulled his belt off and approached her.
“Wha-what are you doing?” she asked, backing away from him.
“I’m sorry, Colette, but I can’t let you run again.”
She bumped against the wall. “I won’t. I won’t run,” she exclaimed.
“Don’t make this difficult.” He whirled her around and pulled her hands behind her back. Despite her struggle, he managed to tie her hands together with his belt.
He scooped her up into his arms and placed her in the center of the bed where he’d been lying. As Colette attempted to get up, Hank unplugged the phone cord from the wall, then from the back of the phone and fastened it through the belt around her hands to the headboard of the bed.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Colette yelled. She felt like a young steer, lassoed and helplessly tied.
“I’d be crazy to trust you,” he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket.
Impotent tears sprang to Colette’s eyes as he once again approached her and tied the handkerchief around her mouth, effectively gagging any of her further protests.
For a long moment his gaze held hers as he remained bending over her. His dark eyes flickered with an indefinable emotion and he reached out and gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her forehead. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he whispered as his hand lingered on the side of her face and his eyes pierced to her soul.
Despite her anger, beyond her fear, another emotion appeared, desire evoked by his touch. It surged, as strong as a memory, as familiar as the hand that spawned it. Why? Why did the touch of his hand not only produce a swift heat of desire, but also the whisper of sweet recollection?
His eyes flashed again, this time dark and cold. He stood and moved toward the other bed. “I’ll take the baby with me. A little insurance that if you happen to get untied you won’t do anything stupid.” He picked up the sleeping child, who cuddled against his broad chest. “I shouldn’t be long.”
With these final words, he disappeared out the door.
Again hot tears burned at Colette’s eyes. What kind of a man was he to leave her like this? She concentrated on not crying, knowing if she did her nose would stuff and the handkerchief across her mouth would make it difficult to breathe. Although it would serve him right to return and find her dead, suffocated to death.
She didn’t even attempt to get free. The moment he’d decided to take Brook with him, he’d won this particular round. But there would come another time, another chance to escape.
There was no way she was going to allow him to take her to California to testify in a trial she knew would put a target on her head. Somehow, someway she’d let Cameron Collier know he had nothing to fear from her and then he’d leave her alone.
If it was just herself she had to worry about, perhaps she’d feel differently about testifying. But she wasn’t alone. She had Brook to consider. Brook needed her alive, not with a bounty on her head.
She might feel differently if she had somebody in her life to support her, somebody who could make her feel secure and loved no matter what choice she made. But she didn’t. It wasn’t fair to put this kind of life-and-death burden on her sisters, and she had no idea who or where Brook’s father was.
She was alone…except for Hank. Hopefully he could keep her safe until she could talk to Cameron Collier and tell him to call off his troops.
As she thought of that moment when Hank’s touch had pulled forth a violent burst of desire, she wondered, as Hank kept her safe from Collier’s men, who would keep her safe from Hank?