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Authors: Elle Kennedy

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

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BOOK: Millionaire's Last Stand
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Her chest went tight for a moment as she realized she really didn’t know much about the man whose bed she’d shared last night. He ran a real estate empire, built things with his own two hands, but what else? What did he do for fun? What books did he enjoy reading?

That she didn’t have the answers to those questions troubled her. What exactly was she doing here? And why did it bother her so much that she didn’t know every last detail about Cole? When she’d decided to act on her attraction, she’d told herself it would only be a fling, that for once in her life, she wanted to act on impulse instead of worrying about the consequences. But sleeping with him was one thing. Wanting to
know
him was an entirely different matter.

Setting her coffee on the wooden railing, she flipped open her phone and punched in Finn’s number, needing a distraction from her muddled thoughts. But when Finn answered, he sounded just as angry as he’d been yesterday at the clinic.

“Still alive, I see,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

Her jaw tensed. “Come on, Finn, there’s no need to be a jerk. I told you why I went with Cole.”

“Right—for his security system.”

She ignored the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Would it kill you to admit that Cole is innocent?”

“And ignore the evidence against him?” He hurried on before she could protest. “Circumstantial, I know. But guess what, circumstantial evidence can still send a man to jail.”

Frustration curled around her spine, making her antsy. Descending the wide steps of the deck, she stepped barefoot onto the grass and began to pace, a habit that always reared its head when she was feeling particularly annoyed. “Joe Gideon saw Cole in the woods at the time Teresa was murdered. Cole didn’t kill her.”

“Then who the hell did?”

Her pacing intensified. “I don’t know,” she said in irritation. “It’s hard to come up with a profile when there’s absolutely nothing to go on. I told you already, our guy is—”

“Neat, analytical, reserved,” Finn cut in. “Yeah, I remember. But how exactly does that help us? We still have to
find
the bastard. Unless we already have, and you’re just refusing to admit it.”

“Cole didn’t do this,” she said through gritted teeth. “He couldn’t have.”

Why, because you’re sleeping with him?

She banished the mocking voice right out of her head, refusing to believe there was any truth to its taunt. She may have slept with Cole, but sex hadn’t completely wiped away her common sense. Or her professional instincts. Her gut was telling her that Cole had nothing to do with his ex-wife’s death. They just needed another suspect. Another clue. Anything that could help her make sense of this murder that seemed determined to remain unsolved.

She quit pacing, suddenly noticing just how far she’d walked from the house. Somehow she’d ended up a hundred yards away, near a cluster of trees with thick branches that swayed in the morning breeze.

“There has to be something we’re missing,” she said as she headed back in the direction of the house, the grass tickling her bare feet. “We just need to—”

A sharp crack suddenly exploded through the air and pain streaked through her shoulder!

With a cry, she stumbled forward. The phone fell out of her hand, landing on the grass, and she could hear Finn’s tinny voice yelling, “Jamie?
Jamie?

She touched her right shoulder, shocked when she lifted her hand and saw it was stained crimson.

Dear God, she’d been
shot.

Chapter 12

C
ole had been trudging down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he heard a loud boom. His spine instantly stiffened, adrenaline filling his veins as he realized the noise had sounded suspiciously like a gunshot.

A
gunshot?

As his pulse raced off in a wild gallop, he sprinted to the kitchen. “Jamie?”

But the room was empty, and when he noticed the open sliding door he streaked through it, bursting onto the deck in time to see Jamie tumbling to the grass fifty yards away. She clutched her shoulder as she went down, and Cole fought a jolt of sheer panic.

The adrenaline spiked, propelling him into action. Without a solitary thought about his own well-being, he dashed toward Jamie, half expecting another shot to ring out and hit him in the chest.

He skidded to a stop in front of her, sinking onto his knees and launching himself at her. He got her flat on her back, shielding her with his own body as he moved his head from side to side to make sure nobody burst out of the trees. Moisture seeped into his shirt and his heart jumped in alarm when he looked down and noticed the blood pouring out of Jamie’s shoulder.

She’d been shot. Someone had
shot
her, on his goddamn property!

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

She nodded, looking dazed. “I’m fine. It was just a graze.”

“Just a graze?” he echoed in disbelief. “You were shot, Jamie! By a
bullet!

“Yeah, that’s usually what comes out of a gun.”

Her cavalier reply had him seeing stars. Maybe getting hit by a bullet was no major event to her, but to him, it was a freaking
big deal!

He lifted his head again, scouting the area, but the woods at the edge of the yard were quiet, save for the soft rustling of the trees and the happy singing of the birds. The shooter must have positioned himself somewhere in the trees. The motion sensors only surrounded the house and the perimeter of the yard, but not beyond that, which meant that someone had been in the woods, watching the house.

Although Cole was loath to get up and risk the gunman taking another shot at them, Jamie was bleeding like a stuck pig beneath him. Maybe she was right and it was just a graze, but there was too much blood for his liking.

“Come on, we’ve got to get you inside,” he told her. “Keep your head down, okay?”

To his relief, she did as he asked, hunching over once they stood up. She had her hand clamped on her wound as they ran in the direction of the house. The sight of the sticky red blood marring her skin brought a rush of fury to his gut. The person responsible was going to pay for this. Cole would make certain of it.

“How’s the arm?” he asked urgently.

“It stings. But I’ve had worse.”

Fighting the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her the rest of the way, Cole squeezed her hand tighter, not once relaxing his grip until they were in the safety of his kitchen.

“Sit down,” he barked. “I’ll get the first-aid kit.” He paused in the doorway. “On second thought, I’ll drive you to the clinic.”

“No way,” she grumbled. “Just get the damned kit.”

When he returned to the kitchen a minute later, Jamie had taken off her T-shirt. She wore only a snug black sports bra and she’d slid down the right strap so it didn’t constrict her shoulder.

A lump of terror lodged in Cole’s throat. Blood was caked on her golden skin. He had to wonder if the shooter had aimed for the arm, or simply missed Jamie’s head, or heart or whatever the intended target had been. Either way, Cole swallowed down the terror, along with a dose of relief that she was alive.

She didn’t make a single sound as he cleaned up the wound, not even when he dumped a generous amount of iodine on her skin to sterilize the laceration. He knew it must have stung like hell, but Jamie didn’t even twitch.

After he’d cleaned it, Cole examined her shoulder, realizing she was right. The bullet had only grazed her skin, leaving a nasty-looking burn and taking off some skin. He quickly bandaged up the area, then walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

“Cole” came her hesitant voice.

He turned around slowly. “Don’t say it’s no big deal.”

“I wasn’t going to. I was just going to suggest we call Finn. Though he’s probably on his way over. I was on the phone with him when the shot rang out.”

“I’m already on it,” Cole said as he reached for the cordless phone on the counter.

“Good.” She finally winced, revealing the first flash of pain and discomfort he’d seen since she was shot. “And maybe you can grab those painkillers from upstairs. I think I might actually need them this time.”

He knew admitting any weakness was probably a strain for her, so he decided to bite back the urge to order her to lie down or something. She didn’t seem to have any intention of getting off the chair and he decided to give her that. As he headed upstairs to get the pain pills, he dialed Finnegan’s number, and when he reentered the kitchen a minute later, Jamie was where he’d left her, the elbow of her good arm propped up on the table. “Did you call Finn?”

“Yeah. You were right. He was already on his way,” Cole reported as he got her a glass of water.

He handed her the water and two painkillers, which she swallowed without any objection. It was only after she drained the glass and leaned back in the chair that Cole finally let himself relax. The adrenaline racing through his blood slowly dissipated, leaving him numb and unbelievably angry with himself. He’d been supposed to keep her safe, keep her protected. Someone had cut her brakes the day before, for chrissake. He should have locked her in the damn house. Refused to let her out of his sight.

He stared at her in dismay. She looked small and fragile sitting there in nothing but a sports bra and those little blue shorts, with her red hair coming out of her ponytail. A smudge of dirt marred her silky cheek, and there were grass stains on her knees. He wanted to take her into his arms and never let her go, which was almost as disturbing as the fact that she’d just been shot on his property.

How had Jamie gotten under his skin in such a short amount of time? When he’d given in to the attraction last night, it was only supposed to be about sex.

“Why do you look so serious?”

Her gentle voice penetrated his thoughts and he met her eyes. “You could have been killed,” he said, clenching his fists to his sides. “Christ, it’s like every woman I get involved with is destined to lose her life.”

A strange look flitted across her face. “Cole—”

“Maybe I should get you out of town,” he interrupted. “I’ve got a place in Tahiti that we can—”

“No way. I’m not leaving Serenade.”

“Even if it means you getting killed?”

She stuck out her chin. “I’m going to be here to catch this guy. I don’t run and hide when things get a little dangerous.”

“A
little
dangerous?” The rest of his irritated speech went unfinished as the keypad by the door buzzed, indicating someone was at the gate. Apparently Finnegan hadn’t wasted any time in getting here.

After pressing the button to open the gate, Cole glanced at Jamie’s sports bra and frowned. “You should put something on.”

“Why?” She suddenly laughed. “Because of Finn?”

“Yes, because of Finn,” he snapped back.

“Trust me, he doesn’t look at me that way.”

Cole doubted it. The bra she wore covered everything, but did nothing to hide the fullness of Jamie’s breasts, or the flat expanse of her creamy stomach. Still, she made no move to reach for her bloodstained shirt.

“If he even looks at you funny,” Cole threatened.

She must have heard the contempt in his voice because she laughed again. “What are you going to do, beat him up?”

He glared at her, ready with a comeback, but then the doorbell rang and he strode off to let the sheriff in. When Finn burst into the kitchen and spotted the white bandage covering Jamie’s upper arm, he let out a curse that had Cole raising his eyebrows.

“Did you see the shooter?” Finn asked immediately.

“No,” Jamie answered. “But he was definitely behind me. Probably hiding in the woods somewhere.”

“Where were you, exactly? I need the precise location.” After Jamie relayed the information, Finn dialed a number on his phone and spoke to his deputies, who were apparently on their way.

He hung up, saying, “Max and Anna will comb the woods. They’ve got the forensic tech with them, so if there’s any trace evidence, he’ll find it.”

As Jamie had predicted, Finn didn’t even seem to notice her scantily-clad appearance. After a cursory glance at her bandage, he gave her a deep scowl. “Now I’m getting you out of here. No arguments, Jamie.”

Cole wasn’t surprised when she argued. “I’m not leaving.”

Finn just gaped. “This house is evidently not as safe as you insisted. You were just
shot,
damn it. Where was the damn security system?”

“The motion sensors only go off when someone reaches the edge of the yard,” Cole spoke up. “The shooter was obviously beyond the perimeter, somewhere in the woods.”

Finn turned to glare daggers at him, but spun around when Jamie held up a hand and said, “I thought of something.”

The sheriff’s expression displayed an irritated flicker. “What, that you should get the hell away from this man?”

“No,” she said, looking just as annoyed. “I had an idea about why Teresa might have been killed.”

Finn faltered. Cole could sense the other man still wanted to argue some more—it was probably what he did for fun—but Jamie’s revelation was too tempting for either man to ignore.

“Pour me a cup of coffee, Donovan,” Finn barked. Then he glanced at Jamie. “I’m listening…”

Cole bristled at the sheriff’s coffee demand, but at least the other man seemed willing to quit scowling at everyone and actually listen to Jamie. So, swallowing his pride, Cole moved to the counter and prepared coffee for a man he didn’t particularly like, pouring himself a cup too.

They gathered at the table a few moments later, and Jamie spoke with the pensive slant of her head. “Cole said something before you got here,” she told the sheriff, “about how it feels like the women in his life are targets.”

Finn’s face turned red, as the implication behind Jamie’s words settled in. Cole expected the man to explode at the thought of a romantic connection between Jamie and his main suspect, but Jamie hurried on, quickly diffusing the bomb before it went off. “It got me thinking about why.
Why
is someone coming after me? Since I got here, we haven’t come up with any new leads about who the killer might be.

BOOK: Millionaire's Last Stand
12.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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