Her Secret, His Duty

Chapter 17


The ballroom at the Capital Hotel was magnificent, with five-story, floor to ceiling windows on three sides, and chandeliers that appeared to be sparkling stars against the deep blue high ceiling; it would have been impressive empty.

But tonight it wasn’t empty. White-clothed tables surrounded the large polished dance floor, each table decorated with a red-and-pink floral arrangement in the center. Tiny red glittering hearts had been scattered around the arrangements, an instant reminder that it was Valentine’s Day.

Debra felt as if it had been Valentine’s Day for the past week, ever since she had accepted Trey’s proposal. That morning she’d awakened to him serving her breakfast in bed and along with the bacon and eggs and orange juice had been a blue velvet ring box. As the server took their plates away from one of the front tables where they all sat, she admired the sparkle of the two-carat solitaire.

“Wishing it were bigger?” Trey asked her as he leaned closer to her.

She smiled at him, as always her heart expanding at the very sight of his handsome face. “Not at all. As it is now I have trouble lifting my hand.”

He laughed and settled back in his chair and looked around the table with the expression of a contented man. For the past week they’d shared many long talks about their future, deciding on two children but keeping the possibility of a third open.

He’d taken her to his house where she’d declared that she absolutely hated it and that she’d need a big budget to transform the cold, beautiful house into a warm, inviting home. He’d taken her into his arms and assured her that it would be warm and inviting as long as she was there with him.

The plan was for her to put her townhouse on the market and within the coming weeks move into Trey’s home. She wanted to be settled and married before the birth of the baby and she knew Trey felt the same way.

Every night of the past week he’d slept at the townhouse, snuggled with her in her bed. They’d made love each night and she wondered if she’d ever tire of the feel of his arms holding her tight, the taste of his lips against her own. He rubbed her belly each night and told the baby a ridiculous made-up bedtime story that always ended in her laughing.

No, she would never tire of Trey Winston. They would be together through good times and bad, through thick and thin, with their mutual love for each other to shelter them from each and every storm.

It had definitely been a magical week. Cecily was still in jail. Surprisingly, the wealthy socialite hadn’t been so wealthy after all. She’d been living on credit and had been on the verge of bankruptcy. She had been unable to make the huge bail the judge had set.

It was obvious that Trey had not only been her dream man because he wanted to be a senator, but also because he was wealthy enough to save her from her own financial ruin.


Debra released a sigh of happiness. They shared the table with Kate, Sam, Thad and the president of the chamber of commerce, Bob Duke, and his wife, Sherri.

Dinner had been a pleasant affair, with everyone in the festive mood of the evening. All of the men wore tuxes and the ladies were visions in ball gowns, the prevailing colors red and white and pink.

Debra and Trey had gone shopping for her dress, a bright pink with a fitted bodice with tiers of white and vivid pink that went from her waist to the floor. The tiers effectively hid the baby bump that was now clearly visible.

The guest of honor for the night, Kate, was a vision in white with ruby bling in a gorgeous necklace and matching earrings to add color to the sophisticated, simple white gown.

Dinner had been entertaining, a bit of political chatter at first, but then the conversation had changed to the weather forecasting cold and snow possibilities in the next week. Bob had shared disastrous Valentine’s Days he’d spent with his wife, Sherri, in the thirty years they had been married.

“Men just don’t always get it right.” Sherri had laughed after Bob had tried to justify that a new garden tractor was a perfectly acceptable Valentine’s Day gift to his wife.

There had been plenty of laughter, but Debra would have been perfectly happy if it had just been her and Trey alone in front of her fireplace.

Trey leaned closer to her once again. “It won’t be long now and I’ll have you in my arms on the dance floor.”

“Be afraid...be very afraid,” she replied in mock soberness.

She got the expected result she’d wanted. He laughed, that low, rich laughter that she desired to hear every day and every night for the rest of her life.

When the last table had been cleared, Bob turned and whispered something to Kate. She nodded and smiled around the table at all of her family as Bob got up from his seat and approached the podium at the front of the room.

He tapped the end of the microphone, testing to make sure it was turned on and then began to speak. “I’d like to welcome you all to the Chamber of Commerce Valentine’s Day Charity Ball. I hope you’ve enjoyed your dinner and I also hope you’ve all had an opportunity to check out the room next door where we have a silent auction taking place. Pull out your checkbooks, men, there’s plenty of jewelry and goodies over there that the ladies will want.”

Everyone laughed and Trey’s hand found Debra’s beneath the table, radiating his love, his happiness through their physical contact.

“And don’t forget to stick around for the dancing,” Bob continued. “We have a terrific band standing by for your dancing pleasure. But now, it’s my great pleasure to introduce our speaker for the night, although she scarcely needs an introduction. Kate Adair Winston is one of our own who has served not only the city of Raleigh with her charitable work, but also has served the United States as former vice president and former ambassador to France. Her family business, Adair Enterprises, has brought jobs and revenue to our fair city. Kate, we welcome you.”

Applause filled the room as Kate rose from the table and took her place behind the podium. She had no notes. Debra had helped her work on the speech over the past couple of days and she’d heard it a dozen times as Kate had practiced it over and over again so that she would have it fully memorized.

Trey released her hand and relaxed back in his chair as Debra rubbed her lower stomach, caressing the baby who would be born into love, a child who would grow up in an intact family.

The room was utterly silent as Kate reached the podium, an indication of the respect she commanded. She turned to thank Bob and there was a distinctive ping sound.

“No!” Sam erupted and lunged from the table in an attempt to reach his mother.

Everything happened at the same time. The center of Kate’s white dress exploded in red as Secret Service agent Dan Henderson reached her before Sam, took her down to the floor and covered her body with his. Two more pings resounded, followed by the crackling of glass at one of the huge windows.

Screaming filled the ballroom, along with the sound of running feet and Secret Service swarming the area. Thad was on his phone, and then raced for the exit as Trey tugged Debra under the table.

Gunshots, Debra thought in horror. Kate had been shot. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as she thought of the red stain that had suddenly appeared on Kate’s stomach. Was Kate dead? Debra’s heart pounded with dreadful intensity.

As Trey huddled next to her, his arm tightly around her shoulders, she was able to pick out familiar voices among the din. Sam sobbing and screaming in agony, somebody else shouting about a lockdown and finally the scream of sirens as emergency vehicles and local law-enforcement officials began to arrive.

Jerry Cahill leaned down beneath the table, his eyes cold and hard. “We need to get the family out of here right now,” he said. “We’re clearing the ballroom. All the guests are being moved to other areas of the hotel, but we have a car waiting for you two and Sam to head to the hospital where your mother is being taken.”

Trey nodded and as he pulled Debra from beneath the table, he motioned to the distraught Sam to come with them. Two ambulance stretchers had already arrived in the room and it looked like both Kate and Dan Henderson were being loaded.

“I should have seen this coming,” Sam sobbed as Trey threw an arm around his shaking shoulders and they all followed Jerry out of the ballroom. “I should have been able to save her. There were so many I couldn’t save, but I should have saved her.” Sam appeared to be shattering, his words indicating some sort of post-traumatic stress in addition to his fear for his mother.

Jerry led them to a back entrance of the hotel, all the while talking and listening on his radio. He stopped them at the door, appeared to get some sort of confirmation, and then with his gun in his hand, opened the door.

Directly ahead of them was a black sedan that Debra knew probably had bulletproof windows. Sam got into the front seat and she and Trey in the back and then Jerry slammed the doors, gave the top a thump and the driver pulled away.

The driver was Secret Service man Jeff Benton and as Sam managed to pull himself together, Jeff told them everything he knew, that from the direction that Kate had been shot, apparently the gunman had been in one of the darkened high-rise buildings on the left side of the street from the hotel ballroom and both local and federal agents were clearing those buildings now.

He couldn’t tell them the condition of either Kate or Dan Henderson, who apparently had been shot also. He was driving them to Duke University Hospital where both Kate and Dan would be taken and were already in transport.

It was only then that Debra’s brain began to process the horror. She leaned into Trey and began to silently weep, her heart aching for the entire Winston family. What should have been a night of triumph for Kate and her sons had become a night of sheer terror.

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. Was Kate still alive? Please, don’t take Kate, Debra prayed as Trey held her tightly against his side. Sam, Thad and Trey needed their mother and Debra needed Kate, too. Her baby needed a grandmother. Please, let Kate be okay. It was a mantra that echoed over and over again in her head.

What about Dan Henderson? Had he sacrificed his life in doing his duty tonight? Four shots. There had been four bullets. One of them had hit Kate, but had the others hit Dan?

And where was Thad? Why wasn’t he safely in this car with them? They should all be together right now, praying that Kate wasn’t badly hurt, that nobody had been critically injured. They should all be praying that the gunman was captured and somebody could make sense of what had just happened.

She gazed down at the glittering ring on her finger and cuddled closer to the man who would be her husband. She told herself that no matter what happened tonight, she and Trey would get through the future together.

* * *

By the time they reached the hospital Trey was frantic and trying hard to hide it not just from Debra but also from Sam, who appeared to be on the very edge of his sanity.

They were led into a private waiting room with Jeff Benton stationed just outside the door. Thad was already there and he stood from the loveseat where he’d been sitting as they all entered the room. Thad looked haggard, as if the past forty-five minutes or so had sucked the very life out of him.

“What do you know?” Trey asked.

Thad gestured for Trey and Debra to sit on the loveseat and then he and Sam sank down into two straight-back chairs. “Nothing, other than the two victims have arrived and are with the doctors or whoever. I just got here a few minutes ago myself.” Thad sat only a moment and then jumped up to begin to pace the small confines. Thad was tightly wound, his movements jerky with tension, his jaw taut.

Trey noted the fact that Thad had referred to their mother and Dan Henderson as the victims as if in an effort to completely divorce his emotions from the situation.

Sam had grown silent, his eyes staring unseeingly at the wall in front of him with his hands clasped together tightly in his lap.

As the oldest and the unofficial leader of the family, Trey felt helpless to do anything to help his brothers through this horrifying time. As he thought of that moment when his mother’s white dress had turned red and she’d fallen, his heart felt like it stopped beating.


How could he help his brothers when he felt the open hand of utter despair attempting to grab him around the throat? The only thing keeping him partially grounded was the warmth of Debra’s body next to his, the feel of her small hand gripping his so tightly and the baby that would make them a family.

Thad stopped pacing and stared at the doorway that they all knew somebody would eventually come through to give them an update. He looked as if he wanted to tear through the door to find some answers right now.

“You know, Cecily never confessed to hiring a gunman to shoot at Debra at the breakfast last week,” Trey said, trying to gain Thad’s attention.

“And the gunman has continued to refuse to talk about who hired him,” Thad replied. “There’s no way he wasn’t a hired gun. His rap sheet shows him as a low-rent thug with charges of robbery and check fraud. He’s not bright enough to mastermind his way out of a paper bag.”

“But, after tonight, I believe his target was Mom that day and not Debra.” Trey tightened his arm around the woman he loved, remembering how frightened he’d been for her even before he’d acknowledged the love he had in his heart for her.

Thad turned back to stare at the doorway, as if he could will somebody to show up to give them some kind of a report as to what was happening with their mother.

“I wonder what’s going on back at the hotel. I wonder if they’ve caught the shooter,” Sam finally spoke, his hands curled into tight fists in his lap.

Thad looked at his brother. “I’m cut out of the loop for obvious reasons. I guess at some point we’ll get an update from the Secret Service when they have something to share with us.”

At that moment the door opened and a nurse stepped inside. Trey immediately recognized her as the same pretty nurse who had tended to Debra after her car accident. Lucy, that was her name. Lucy Sinclair.

“I just want to let you all know that your mother and Agent Dan Henderson are being attended to by our trauma team. Unfortunately, that’s really all I can tell you at this point,” she said sympathetically.

Thad took a step closer to her. “Well, that’s not good enough,” he said tersely. “Do you have any idea who my mother is?”

Lucy’s green eyes widened a bit and then narrowed. “At the moment your mother is nothing more than a patient who needs immediate medical treatment.”

“I demand to speak to the doctor in charge,” Thad replied. “I’m Officer Thad Winston of the Raleigh Police Department and I want to speak to the doctor right now.”

“Right now every trauma doctor we have on staff is desperately working to keep your mother and Agent Henderson alive. They are both in critical condition.” She took a step closer to Thad, her eyes flaming in aggravation. “You need to stand down, Officer Winston.”

She stood toe-to-toe with him until Thad stepped back and fell back on the chair, his features crumbled in with defeat and fear.

As Lucy left the room, Trey looked at his family. Shell-shocked, that’s what they were and yet despite the trauma that they were now experiencing, Trey’s commitment to continue in politics only surged stronger inside him.

The bad guys didn’t get to win. No matter what the outcome of tonight was, Trey intended to be on the ballot when it came time to elect the next senator of North Carolina.

One way or the other they would all survive this night. They carried Adair Winston blood inside them—they were strong and would carry on.

Debra took his hand and held tight, as if knowing what he was thinking and silently telling him that she would be right at his side.

* * * * *

Be sure to check out the rest of the books

in the ADAIR LEGACY miniseries:

EXECUTIVE PROTECTION by Jennifer Morey,

SPECIAL OPS RENDEZVOUS by Karen Anders

and SECRET SERVICE RESCUE by Elle James!

Available only from Harlequin Romantic Suspense!

Keep reading for an excerpt from DEADLY LIAISONS by Elle James.





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Chapter 1


“You should have seen the look on Nova’s face when Tazer face-planted him on the mat at the gym.” Creed Thomas clapped a hand on Casanova Valdez’s back.

Casanova chuckled, remembering that day. “Hey, no one told me she was a black belt in judo. And look at her.” He pointed to Steele. “She looks like a damn powder-puff model.”

Nicole Steele, also known as Tazer because most people didn’t know she’d hit them until they were lying flat on their backs, glanced at the tips of her fingernails. “Looks can be deceiving.” That was the dichotomy who was Tazer. Completely at ease, but ready for anything.

As he sat at the table filled with his teammates and a select few residents of Cape Churn, Oregon, Stealth Operations Specialist Casanova Valdez was surrounded by people he liked and trusted. His teammates. They meant the world to him. He liked his job, the people he worked with, and he felt he was contributing to the greater good of society. But something was missing.

His gaze followed Molly McGregor as she served the other occupants of the dining room at the McGregor Bed & Breakfast, where the team had chosen to gather with members of the local community to celebrate victory.

He and Tazer should have been on their way back to D.C. The next flight out would be the following morning. They hadn’t even left Cape Churn when they’d received the news. Thank goodness. They’d been having lunch at the Seaside Café when their flight from Portland had been canceled due to a mechanical issue with their plane. At that point, Gabe had invited them to a victory dinner at the McGregor Bed & Breakfast his sister operated. It gave Nova the chance to see the pretty bed-and-breakfast owner again. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind.

Molly’s movements were quick and efficient, her every greeting accompanied by a sunny smile. Light blond hair swung about her shoulders, falling in long loose curls down her back, her green eyes sparkling as bright as the crystals dangling from the chandelier that hung from the center of the spacious dining room. She treated every guest like family, making them welcome and including them in her happy disposition. Nova liked being around her. She made him feel as if he’d come home when he walked into McGregor Manor. He hadn’t felt that way since his grandparents had died.

“Bet you think twice when you flirt with a woman, huh, Nova?” Creed elbowed him in the arm, bringing him back to the conversation and his friends gathered around the table. Their hostess, Molly McG., ducked out of sight through the swinging door to the kitchen.

His lips twisted in a wry grin as he recalled the first day he’d met his teammate in the gym at headquarters, the beautiful and deadly Nicole Steele, or Tazer as they’d nicknamed her. “Tazer schooled me,” he admitted.

“Damn right.” Tazer’s lips curved in a sensuous smile as she leaned back in her chair, so beautiful she could easily have graced any glossy magazine cover. Instead, she, too, was a member of the elite SOS team, sworn to protect the country and step in when other federal agencies weren’t enough. “And what did you learn?” she asked in her smooth, husky tone.

“Never underestimate a beautiful woman.” Unfortunately, he hadn’t learned the lesson well enough the first time around. A trip to the jungles of Bolivia, falling in love with the daughter of a drug lord, and losing her and almost losing his life had been the lesson he’d learned the hardest. A face-plant on a gym mat didn’t even compare.

“Well, no matter how you met, I’m glad we’re on the same team,” Creed said. “Without your help, the entire Western Seaboard might not be here today.” Creed raised his glass. “To success.”

Everyone at the table raised their glasses to toast.

Nova lifted his glass of water. What they’d done had been deemed a preemptive strike against a terror cell planning to attack and devastate major cities on the West Coast, including Seattle and Los Angeles.

“To success.” Nova sipped the water, wishing it was whiskey. Alcohol and driving on a foggy night didn’t mix, and he had a long drive ahead of him to get to Portland. The rescheduled red-eye flight departed in the early hours of the morning and he didn’t want to get up at zero dark thirty to try to make that drive from Cape Churn in a hurry.

As soon as he could bow out gracefully, he’d be on the road. In the meantime, he enjoyed visiting with his coworkers and new friends. Especially the owner of the B&B, who was as nice to look at as a field of white daisies. Molly McGregor, that perpetual smile on her face, breezed in from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of water. She topped off glasses around the dining room.

Sure, he’d sworn off commitment a long time ago. But that didn’t mean he’d sworn off women. A man would have to be blind not to appreciate her.


Molly was the sister of Gabe McGregor, the local cop who’d helped them find and neutralize a very dangerous man. The man responsible for trafficking uranium into the United States. Their target had been in the market to sell the uranium to a warped individual creating dirty bombs with enough explosive power to blow Los Angeles and Seattle off the face of the planet.

A backhand to his chest woke Nova out of his musings, yet again.

“Hey, now, don’t be getting any ideas about Gabe’s sister,” Tazer said. “I might get jealous.”

“Since when have you ever been jealous of another woman?” Creed asked.

Tazer pouted. “I was jealous of one last week in the airport. Her Jimmy Choo shoes had me ready to knock her over and rip them off her feet.”

“And who’s Jimmy Choo?” Gabe asked.

Sitting beside him, his wife, Kayla, laughed out loud. “A designer, silly.”

Gabe glanced around at the others. “Am I missing something? Since when are shoes worth killing for?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “You’re such a man.”

“Tazer has a fetish for shoes.” Nova glanced at his female teammate. “I’m surprised you restrained yourself.”

She admired her fingernails. “They didn’t look my size, or I’d have found a way.”

“Everyone all right here?” Molly stopped by their large table, her hair escaping the clip holding the sides up and back away from her face. “I’m sorry, we’re just packed tonight.” She pushed a loose strand behind her ear. Her hand drifted down the long column of her throat to where her shirt came to a V over generous breasts.

Nova’s pulse beat a little faster and he shifted in his chair. He hadn’t been this attracted to a woman in a long time. Not since...

“What’s the occasion?” Kayla asked.

“Tonight is the first night of the First Annual Ghost Hunting Weekend at the McGregor B&B.” Molly glanced around at the packed dining room. “I never dreamed a ghost hunt would draw such a crowd. I had a group from Seattle sign up a month ago and then a couple more joined at the last minute. One from Portland and the other from Eugene. And I only posted it online, no other advertising.”

“People love their ghosts and legends,” Gabe said. “Supposedly, this house is haunted.”

“Shh.” Molly pressed her finger to full, luscious lips and winked. “You’ll steal my thunder. I’m telling the legend as part of the event.”

Nova found himself wishing he could press his lips where her finger was. He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to be enthralled with a woman. As soon as he could catch a plane, he’d be on his way back to D.C., to headquarters to see what his boss, the head of SOS, had up his sleeve for his next assignment. Perhaps it would take him to another part of the world.

The more he moved, the better. It was all part of his plan to stay ahead of his demons. Stay busy and don’t stagnate. New places, new people, new assignments involving lots of action helped him to forget.

Creed leaned close to Nova. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

His jaw tightened. “How could you tell?”

“One minute you’re staring at a pretty girl, the next, your face gets darker and your eyes narrow. You’re scaring the locals.”

Nova made a conscious effort to maintain control over his face and expressions. No use bringing everyone down just because he couldn’t forget what happened two years ago.

As easily as slipping into the shower, Nova slid into the past. He and Sophia Carde?a had been swimming naked in a spring-fed pool surrounded by the jungle. He’d been deep undercover for four months and had fallen for the drug lord Alfonzo Carde?a’s daughter he’d been using as his in. His liaison with Sophia had smoothed the path to the leader’s confidence and allowed him inside the compound hidden away in the darkest jungles of Bolivia.

At first he’d faked being in love with the beautiful Sophia. But after being in her presence and learning that she was as innocent as her father was corrupt, Nova had fallen for the dark-haired beauty.

Unfortunately, on their way back from the pool, through the trees and bushes, Nova had pulled Sophia to a stop. He’d twirled her around in front of him and kissed her. Knowing he’d be leaving soon, his intelligence-gathering mission coming to a close, he didn’t want things to end between them. He’d made the mistake of daring to dream he could have a life with a woman in it.

The DEA would have taken over with the information he’d compiled and sent back to SOS. He’d been about to ask Sophia to go with him, to get away from the jungle, claiming he had to make a trip back to the States to visit a sick grandmother.

He’d prayed she’d go along with him and trust his lie until he had her away, and before the DEA moved in and the war on drugs commenced.

Only, the bullets started prematurely. When he’d turned her around in front of him, the loud crack of a rifle shot split the air.

Sophia fell against him, her eyes wide with her surprise, her mouth open on her last gasp.

The bullet had gone straight through her heart. Within seconds, she was dead, her hand in his, dragging him to the ground.

More bullets flew overhead. Though he’d covered her body with his, it had been too late.

One shot. That was all it took.

“Want a shot?” Creed nudged him, holding a bottle of tequila and a glass in front of him.

Nova pulled himself back to the present, the coppery scent of Sophia’s blood still clinging to his memories. “What?”

“I asked if you’d like a shot of tequila, but you were obviously somewhere else.”

“I’m back.”

“Good, because for a moment there you looked ready to kill. You really aren’t here tonight, are you?”

No, he wasn’t, but he’d wallowed long enough. A drink might take the edge off the painful memories. Just one wouldn’t impair his driving skills. He nodded. “Nothing a shot of tequila won’t cure.”

Before Creed could pour the shot, Tazer reached across and placed her hand over the shot glass. “No way. He’s driving me to the airport tonight. I need him sober.”

“Right.” Creed set the empty shot glass on the table. “Not all of us are staying for some R and R.” He glanced across at his fiancé, Emma Jenkins. “Thankfully, I am. And I know I can use a few days of downtime.”

Molly moved away from their table and back to the crowd on the other side of the room. “If you all are done, I’ll bring out dessert and we can begin with the legend of McGregor Manor.”

The group of young and older people set down their forks and knives and offered up empty plates to Molly.

When she teetered under a stack of dishes almost as big as she was, Nova leaped to his feet and offered to help.

“No, no, I’ve got them,” she said, her face pink from the strain.

“Yeah. I can see that.” He took half, his fingers brushing against hers, sending a shot of adrenaline skimming through his body, and something more. Awareness—powerful, hot and completely arousing.

Molly’s eyes flared, the green irises darker, the color in her cheeks deepening. Had she felt it, too?

Rather than drop the dishes and explore this phenomenon further, Nova gathered the remaining plates from the nearby tables, stacking them on top of the ones he’d taken from Molly, and followed her into the kitchen.

“You can set them beside the sink. I’ll wash them later.” She waved a hand toward the sink, refusing to lock gazes with him.

He moved around the center island, close enough to touch her, but avoiding contact. Unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid his body’s reaction to being alone with Molly.

As directed, he set the plates on the counter beside a sink full of water frothing with suds.

Molly washed her hands, making even that routine action sexy. Then she gathered a large tray of key-lime tarts and hurried backward through the swinging door into the dining room.

Left to himself in the kitchen, and too turned on to risk reentering the dining room with his friends, Nova scraped the leftovers off the plates into the trash can, rolled up his sleeves and started washing the enormous stack of dirty dishes. His mother had always said empty hands were the devil’s tools. For some reason, he was on edge and in need of something to keep him busy. Maybe a little mindless dishwashing would calm him.

He was halfway through the plates when Molly entered, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back with coffee.”

When she spotted him, she yelped and pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, my. You scared a year off my life. What are you still doing in the kitchen? You’re a guest.”

He shrugged, his shirt damp with water he’d splashed onto it. “I thought you could use an extra set of hands.”

“I would have done them later.” She bit her bottom lip, the green of her eyes sparkling in the overhead light. “But thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He wanted to bite that lip and suck it into his mouth. Nova fought the urge to reach out and pull her into his arms, shocked by the raw need coursing through him.

Molly grabbed a full coffeepot and backed toward the swinging door, pausing as she pressed her shoulder to the door. “You should be out there enjoying your dessert with the others.”


“I’ll sit when you join us.”

Before he’d finished his words, she was shaking her head. “Not possible. This is my busiest time of the day, besides breakfast. I rarely sit.”

He dried his hands, gathered a second pot of coffee and turned toward her. “Then let me help you.”

With a smile that lit up the room, she said, “Thanks. It is a little busier than I’m used to.”

Together, he and Molly made it around the room, pouring coffee into mugs and then gathering the dessert plates as the guests polished off the last of the miniature pies.

The ghost hunters and Nova’s own table of friends pushed back and stood, moving toward the dining-room door.

Molly made one more pass to collect the last of the dishes and asked if anyone wanted anything else. “If you’re ready, you can step into the lounge. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Gabe McGregor took the plates from Molly’s hands. “Go on. Kayla and I can finish up the dishes while you see to the guests.”

Nova let Kayla take his plate and he followed Molly into the study along with Creed, Tazer and the ghost hunters.

Molly stood in front of the fireplace and waited for everyone to take a seat, then she began.

When she started, her smile was bright, her face open and frank.

“Ian McGregor came to this country from Scotland in the late eighteen hundreds to escape political oppression and make his fortune. Not long after he arrived, he signed on with the Burlington Northern Railroad Company and helped build the rail system that spanned the United States from coast to coast.

“He worked his way up the chain until he was a highly paid supervisor over a thousand men. His keen business sense allowed him to amass a significant amount of savings, which he used to buy land and businesses.

“In his late thirties, he retired from the railroad and settled here in Cape Churn, where he met the prettiest girl in town, Rose Engelmann, a beauty whose family had fallen on hard times. He courted Rose and asked her to marry him, but she had fallen in love with a pirate and had secretly been seeing him without her parents’ knowledge. Rose refused to marry Ian McGregor.

“Unbeknownst to her, Ian paid the pirate a visit to gauge the man’s intentions toward the lovely Rose. The pirate laughed about his affair with the beauty, claiming he left a woman in every port.

“Ian paid the man a hefty sum to leave and never return. As Ian had anticipated, the pirate took the money and left Cape Churn.

“Rose was heartbroken and, with her family in dire straits, agreed to marry Ian.” Molly’s brows lowered, the gleam disappearing from her eyes as she enthralled her listeners with her tale.

Nova was no exception. He leaned forward, clinging to every word, caught up in her story, almost feeling the pain of Ian’s unrequited love.

“Ian knew she didn’t care for him, but he set out to do everything in his power to make her fall in love with him, to woo her heart over to him by building her this mansion fit for a princess. He surrounded it with rose arbors and gardens so beautiful she couldn’t help but fall in love with the place as well as him. He was a kind and gentle lover, not asking more than any man would ask of his wife and treating her with respect and love.”

Molly’s gaze slipped to Nova.

His heart flipped over and beat faster, his groin tightening.

Then she lowered her lashes, hiding her emerald-green eyes as she continued, “She bore a single son, but alas, Rose couldn’t or wouldn’t fall in love with Ian—her heart still belonged to a pirate who never loved her in the first place.

“Ian was proud of his son and loved him dearly. For years he tried to gain the love of his wife, but finally gave up, growing more despondent, until one day he caught pneumonia and didn’t want to fight his way back to good health. As his physical condition declined, a ship sailed into Cape Churn, carrying Rose’s pirate. He learned of the pirate’s return from his loyal servant and valet.

“Calling Rose into his bedroom, he told her what he’d done all those years ago. If she was still in love with the pirate, and if the pirate shared the same feelings, she was free to go.

“Rose hurried to the village, anxious to be reunited with the pirate. When she arrived at his hotel, she hurried up the stairs to the room they’d shared in secret and found him in the arms of another woman. She begged him to take her back and leave the woman he was with. He laughed and told her to go away.

“Rose returned to McGregor Manor sad, angry and disappointed. Ian dragged himself out of his bed to soothe her. But she would not be consoled. Instead, she ran outside during a night when the devil had cloaked the land and cliffs in its ghostly shroud—when the fog had gathered at its thickest.

“Ian followed her, weak and sick, stumbling toward the sounds of her sobs. He found her at the edge of the cliff and tried to talk her into returning to the mansion. She refused, blaming him for driving her lover away. When he grabbed her arm to lead her back to the house, she pushed him away. He staggered backward and fell over the cliff onto the rocks below.

“Horrified, Rose finally realized what a fool she’d been. Ian had loved her and wanted nothing but the best for her. She’d thrown his love away and then pushed him to his death. Distraught and grieving for all her mistakes and for destroying her chances at love, she threw herself over the cliff to join Ian in death.

“The legend says that because neither found love in life, they wander the gardens and the mansion’s halls—Ian searching for Rose, and Rose searching for Ian. Neither ever quite finding the other.

“Many times, I’ve heard Rose’s sobs in the middle of the night.” Molly’s eyes were filled with tears at the end of the story, her voice dropping to a sad whisper. “And when the Devil’s Shroud blankets the cliffs, I swear I’ve heard the echo of Ian calling to Rose and Rose’s sobs in the sound of the waves splashing against the cliffs.”

The crowd of onlookers, including Casanova, remained silent for a full minute after Molly finished, mesmerized by Molly’s storytelling and complete believability. Whether the story was true or not didn’t matter. Everyone believed.

The room erupted in applause.

“Wow, that was beautiful.” Emma Jenkins wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Not that I’d want to run into the pair in a dark hallway.” She shivered. “Ghosts give me the creeps just thinking about them.”

“You sure Rose didn’t kill Ian on purpose?” a woman with auburn hair asked. “Ian did send her lover away.”

Molly’s brows knit. “You’re Talia, right?”

The woman hesitated, then nodded.

“No one knows for sure,” Molly continued. “If she did kill Ian on purpose, why would she have joined him?”

“Unless someone pushed her,” said a big guy with pale blond, wispy hair and glasses. He’d sat near Talia all evening, his gaze rarely leaving her.

Nova concealed a smile. The man had a thing for the dark-haired woman, and by the looks of it, she didn’t know he existed.

Talia’s gaze shifted to Nova as if she could sense his thoughts. Nova’s glance returned to Molly’s clear, green gaze.

“What happened to Ian and Rose’s son?” a man asked.

Molly grinned. “That would be my great-great-grandfather. He was raised by an elderly aunt who came to Cape Churn from Philadelphia.”

Another guest raised her hand. “Have you ever seen Ian and Rose’s ghosts?”

Molly nodded. “Once I saw Ian on the upper landing late in the night, wearing his nightgown and carrying a candle.”

“What about Rose?” she asked.

“I’ve seen her by the cliffs. Not that I recommend anyone go out there tonight. Because, you see, while you were enjoying the evening meal, the Devil’s Shroud crept over the cliffs and cloaked McGregor Manor in thick fog.”

As one, the roomful of people moved, everyone leaping to their feet to crowd through the door onto the wide front porch of the mansion.

Nova remained behind. “Beautiful.”

Molly’s cheeks flushed and she looked at her hands. “Thank you. And thank you for helping with the dishes.” She collected coffee cups from tables and started for the kitchen.

Not wanting to let her get away, he followed, picking up dessert plates and glasses as he passed through the dining room and into the kitchen. He shouldn’t start anything with the McGregor woman, especially when he was about to leave, but something about her touched him and made him want to get to know her better. Was it the way she empathized with the former owners of the grand mansion? Or the perpetual smile that remained permanently affixed to her lips?

Molly was already elbow deep in the sudsy water when Nova entered the kitchen, carrying more dishes.

“Really, you didn’t have to do that.” She blew at a strand of hair falling over her forehead.

Nova set the dishes on the counter beside her and brushed the strand of hair behind her ear. “Better?”

He stood so close, he could see the tiny flecks of gold in her green eyes. She blinked, her lips parting.

Before he could think better of the idea, he lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. “I imagine you are as beautiful as Ian’s Rose.”

“I’m sure she was much prettier,” Molly replied, her voice breathy, her gaze dropping to his mouth.


“I seriously doubt it.”

When her tongue darted out to wet her lips, Nova was drawn to her, wanting a kiss to taste those damp lips. He bent toward her, his breath mingling with hers.

When their gazes met, her green irises flared. She raised a wet, sudsy hand to his chest, the warm water penetrating the fabric of his shirt.

Nova wondered what it would feel like to have her soap-covered hand running across his bare skin. His pulse leaped and he closed in on those luscious lips.

“Molly, your guests are ready for their tour.” Gabe McGregor swung the kitchen door open and backed through, carrying a tray of mugs and glasses.

With great reluctance, Nova stepped away from Molly.

“I’ll be right there.” Molly’s gaze dropped from his and she went back to work, scrubbing furiously at the already clean dish.

Nova faced the intruder.

Gabe grinned when he spotted Nova and Molly. “Ah, Casanova, thanks for helping out. I should have jumped up when you did. Molly always seems so capable, I forget she could use an extra hand now and then.” Gabe set the tray on the butcher block in the middle of the kitchen. “Why don’t you two take a break while I finish up the dishes?”

Molly refused to look up as she rinsed a pot and reached for a towel.

Gabe handed one to Nova. “I’ll be right back with the last of the glasses, then I’ll finish up the dishes.” He pointed at his sister. “No excuses.”

“You heard the man. No excuses.” Nova took the pot from Molly, dried it and then dried her hands. “Come on, you’ve been working all evening. I’ll bet you didn’t even eat dinner.”

Molly glanced around the kitchen as if gauging the amount of work still needing done. “I sat down at your table.”

“You didn’t touch the food on your plate.” He gripped her hand in his and tugged her toward the door, knowing he needed to get going, but not until he finished what he’d started with a real kiss.

Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “Have you been watching me?”

“Not much. But enough to tell when a beautiful green-eyed blonde, with cheeks that can blush as brightly as a ripe peach, isn’t eating her meal.”

Her hand flew to her face. “I’m not blushing. It’s hot in here.”

He smiled, knowing better, but seizing an opportunity wherever he could find it. “Then we should step outside so that you can cool off. Come, cari?a.”

By the time they emerged onto the porch, the ghost hunters and Nova’s teammates had reconvened in the lounge around a blazing fire.

Refusing to release Molly’s hand, Nova leaned against the rail, his back to the wall of fog that had crept in on the McGregor B&B. Like a cocooning, impenetrable shroud, the fog blocked the beautiful view of the cape. The only residual evidence of the ocean nearby was the soft splashing sound of waves slapping the rocks far below the cliffs.

Molly didn’t pull free, allowing him to lace his fingers with hers.

“I lied,” he began.

She stared at where their fingers wove together. “Oh? When?”

“When I said I didn’t watch you much.”

Her gaze rose to his. “Why me?”

He smiled. “I’m curioso.”

“Curious about what?” she whispered.

“I wanted to know one thing before I left.” He tugged her closer.

“Yeah?” She stopped when they were toe-to-toe. “And what’s that?”

“Just how good you taste.” He started his descent, his mouth angling toward hers.

Before he could get there, she raised a finger and planted it on his lips. “I take it you tend to live up to your name, Casanova.”

“On occasion.” His thumb brushed the hair from her cheek, then slipped across her lips.

“And you expect me to fall in with a little flirtation?”

Nova’s brows dipped. “A woman who is as bonita as you must have great passion.”

The color heightened in her cheeks. “Pretty words, Casanova. Do you always get your way with women?”

He hesitated only a moment, pushing his memories to the farthest corner of his mind, forcing his shoulders to lift in a casual shrug. “Mostly.” He gave her his sexiest smile. Again he swept in for the kiss. That was all he wanted. Then he could leave and never look back. Relationships were too complicated and he wasn’t staying. “Is it working?”

“Almost.” She pressed a finger to his lips again. “Except I know your type. Kiss and leave.”

“I never make promises I can’t keep. No strings, no false words of love or commitment. Just the truth. I find you hard to resist, and I want to kiss you. Tiene un problema with just one kiss?”

She tipped her head. Her gaze locked with his and then slid down to his mouth. “I guess I don’t have a problem with just one kiss. You’re leaving. As long as we’re both in agreement that a kiss means nothing, what do I have to lose?” Her free hand slipped behind his head and pulled him down so that their lips could meet. At first her mouth brushed lightly against his, then she flicked her tongue across the seam of his lips.

He opened to her and she swept in. His arms rose around her, pulling her against his body, rubbing her pelvis across the ridge of his fly. A groan rose up his throat and blended with her own.

A sound pulled Nova out of the kiss and he glanced in the direction it had come. The porch swing on the end of the veranda swayed on its chains as if a ghostly hand had set it in motion.

He tipped his head toward the swing. “I think your ghosts approve.”

Molly gazed that way, still standing in the circle of his arms. “Or disapprove.” She moved out of his arms, straightening her blouse. “Are you and Nicole heading to Seattle soon?”

“Trying to get rid of me already?” Nova checked his watch. “We’ll have to go in a few minutes.”

She nodded and stared toward the parking area, where cars lined up in front of the B&B, blurred by the murky mist. “Be careful on the drive up the coastline. The fog is wicked tonight. There’s bound to be a number of wrecks by those crazy enough to drive in it.” She stepped back and shoved a hand out. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

Nova lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her open palm, then curled her fingers around it. “Save that for a lonely day. My plane flies out early in the morning. I have to go.” No commitment, no strings, Nova reminded himself when he wanted to pull her back into his arms and kiss her again.

Gabe stuck his head out the door. “Oh, there you are. Nicole was looking for you.”

“Tell her I’m ready when she is.”

Tazer, Creed, Emma, Kayla and Gabe stepped out onto the porch.

Creed held out his hand. “Sorry to see you go. I’m sure there’s more work piled up than we have people to work it. But duty calls.”

“Yes, it does.” Nova grabbed Creed’s hand and shook it, then dragged him into a bear hug. No time for anything but duty. Relationships were inadvisable, given the secrecy of their band of brothers. He shook hands with the men and hugged the women, saving Molly for last.

Gabe glanced around. “Now, where did Molly go? I’ll go get her.” He turned toward the door.

“Don’t. She’s busy and I need to get on the road.” Although he would have liked to see her one last time, with all the people around, it wouldn’t have been enough. One kiss should have sufficed. It had sparked a hunger for more instead of quenching his thirst. He’d be better off leaving than hanging around to see Molly again. What good would it do?

Tazer slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

He held the door for Tazer, then rounded the rental car, climbed in and strapped his seat belt over his lap.

Tazer leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I’d hoped to sleep on the trip to Seattle, but I think you’re gonna need my eyes as well as yours to find the road.”

“So it seems.” Nova pulled onto the highway, or what he could see of it, and picked up a little speed, his headlights reflecting back at him, little help against the blanketing fog.

“The locals weren’t kidding when they called this stuff the Devil’s Shroud.” Tazer leaned forward, her hand gripping the armrest. “I hope it’s not this bad all the way to Portland.”

“It should clear when we drive farther inland.”

“Sheesh, we haven’t even made it to town.” Her nose practically pressed to the passenger window. “I can’t even see the side of the road.”

“I know. I’m going to slow down. No use getting ourselves killed. We have all night to get to Portland.” Nova eased his foot against the brake pedal. The vehicle didn’t slow. He pushed his foot harder and harder until the pedal was all the way to the floorboard, and nothing happened.

Tazer shot a nervous glance his way. “I thought you were going to slow down.”

Nova’s hands gripped the steering wheel as the road curved around the side of a cliff and started the long descent toward the town of Cape Churn. “Uh, sweetheart, we’ve got a problem.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” She held on to the dash, her eyes wide, nervous. “And slow the hell down.”


“I would, but there are no brakes.”

As the incline grew steeper, the car’s speed increased.

Nova shifted into low gear, hoping to use the engine to reduce their speed. And it did, for an eighth of a mile when the grade dropped to 10 percent. What had seemed like a nice, scenic drive along the winding coast now felt more like riding a giant rattlesnake, twisting and gyrating out of control.

Nova jerked the wheel at the last minute before the vehicle would have plunged off the edge of a cliff he couldn’t see.

Tazer gasped. “Holy crap, Nova! Watch out!”

“The fog’s too thick. I can’t see the curves,” he called out.

“Drop off, drop off, drop off!” Tazer pointed, screaming.

Jerking the wheel hard to the right, Nova nearly hit the rising cliffs on his left. “I can’t hold it on the road. We have to bail.”

“Bail? Are you out of your—” Tazer squealed again.

Nova swerved to avoid driving off the edge of another cliff.

The road leveled out and started up a slight incline.

His hands on the wheel in a white-knuckled grip, Nova steered the car as close to the cliff as possible. “If I’m not mistaken, around the next curve starts a descent into the town on the curviest and steepest part of the road.”

“Curvier than this?”

“If we’re going to abandon ship, it’s now or never.”

“Crap, and these were my favorite shoes.” Tazer reached for the door handle.

A voice in Nova’s head urged, Jump!

“You go first. I’ll hold it steady,” Nova said, his jaw tight, his stomach knotted.

Jump!

“We don’t have time.” Tazer unfastened her seat belt. “On the count of three.

“One...” Nova released his belt.

“Two...” Tazer joined the count.

“Three!”

Nova flung his door open and threw himself out of the car, hit the ground hard, tucked and rolled to a stop.

The car continued forward until it reached the curve in the road and launched itself over the edge of the cliff.

Without wasting a breath, Nova staggered to his feet. “Tazer!”

No answer.

“Tazer!”

“Damn.”

“You all right?”

“No.”

“Keep talking until I find you.”

“I’m over here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re broken. Damn.”

His heart in his throat, Nova yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. Or would work, if there was any reception at this point on the highway. “Any bleeding?” he asked, still angling toward her voice.

“Yes.”

“Apply pressure, I’m almost there.”

“Yeah, you are. Look out!”

He practically tripped over Tazer before he saw her pushing to her feet against a solid cliff wall. He shone his cell phone in her face. “Stay down until I can get some medical assistance.”

She held up a hand and grimaced. “I don’t need assistance.”

“I thought you said you broke something.”

Frowning, she shoved her hands out in front of her. “I broke every one of my freakin’ fingernails.” Her knees were scuffed, her elbows, too, and she had a scratch on her face.

“We almost died on this road, and all you’re worried about is your manicure?” Nova chuckled as he helped her to her feet. “One of these days I hope to understand women.”

“And one of these days, and I’m thinking very soon, I want to understand why your brakes didn’t work. And when I get my hands on whoever ruined my nails, I’ll kill him.”