Shattered Dreams (42 page)

• • •

Jeffrey Sinclair caught the panic in her voice. “I don’t know why, but I intend to find out.” He shifted and covered her more protectively. Through layers of clothes, he felt her heartbeat race. Or was it his?

He managed to yank his radio out of his pocket and hit the button just as another bullet ricocheted off a headstone to his left. “Three shots fired.” With his lips next to her ear, he kept his voice low. “As far as I can tell, from northwest of my position.”

“On it,” came the reply.

Silence prevailed. In those quiet seconds, the alert edge left his body in an exhale, but she remained as immobile as stone.

“You’re safe,” he assured her in a soothing tone. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sin wasn’t the protecting type, but as the promise escaped his lips, he realized he meant every word.

She nodded and seemed to relax a bit. Her lemony scent blended with the dampened earth and invaded his nostrils. An inconvenient blast of awareness shot through him. As the danger diminished with each passing minute, leftover adrenaline had his heartbeat quickening, pumping more alertness through every vein and artery. He felt trapped in some kind of suspended time warp, intensifying the craziness of lying prone over some stranger. Well, not exactly a stranger. He knew enough, and though he couldn’t deny an attraction to her, he damn sure hadn’t expected Avery Montgomery to affect him like this.

Hold it together, Sin.

Remember why you’re on top of her in the first place. Someone shot at her. Unfortunately, his mental commands couldn’t extinguish her warmth radiating beneath him. The hard contours of his body dug into her softness, adding to his awareness . . . and his discomfort. He closed his eyes, willing Des to hurry, and forced himself to relax. To keep breathing.

Five . . . ten . . . twenty seconds ticked by and still nothing happened.

Finally, he lifted off her enough to let her roll onto her back but he wouldn’t relinquish his protective posture. Damn. Not his smartest move because now she lay underneath him face up. Darkness obscured her full features, but he didn’t need to see her to know she was gorgeous.

The rapid thumping of his heart continued to override the silence. With her head inches from his, the soft air of her even breathing caressed his neck. His blood pounded faster.

Don’t think about it. Think about the situation. Where in the hell is Des?

Finally, the radio came alive again. “All clear. Whoever was shooting is long gone. I’ll scout around a little more, see what I can find.”

“Thanks, but be careful. It ruins my night when someone uses me for target practice,” he answered.

Sin pushed up onto his forearms and looked down to see Avery suck in air and open her eyes. At the same time, the full moon came out of hiding and a bit of light reflected off her face, highlighting a frightened brown gaze. He began to pull away, but the glimpse of sadness he also saw stopped him cold. For long seconds their stares locked. Peering into such vivid, expressive eyes was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn’t look away.

Her turbulent gaze spoke volumes, created a bond of sorts. A
mental connection
, for lack of a better term, that was damned unwelcome and tossed his thoughts into chaos. Questions that had rested on the tip of his tongue scattered to the far reaches of his mind.

Whoever said the eyes were the windows to the soul had it right. He didn’t know her—they’d never met—but it was as if he’d known her forever. How stupid was that? Or maybe surreal. This entire scene had a dream-like quality to it.

Of its own accord, his gaze dropped inches lower, to her mouth. An incredibly beautiful mouth. He certainly wasn’t considering doing something so stupid like kissing that mouth, was he? Because even as his brain shouted
no
, his body had other ideas. At that point, stupid just didn’t seem to matter.

In slow motion, he lowered his head, giving her plenty of time to turn away.

Avery didn’t move, yet that expressive gaze seemed to beg him for something, which spurred him to continue. She still didn’t pull away even when his mouth hovered over hers before grazing back and forth. The not quite kisses sent searing flashes of heat straight through him. When her lips connected with his, he wrapped his arms around her in an effort to bring her closer. Never had a kiss seemed so elemental . . . like breathing. Like being in heaven.

“I don’t see any shell casings. I’m betting the bullets came from a high-powered rifle,” his radio squawked. “So, I’ll try to find the bullets.”

Instantly, he broke the kiss and felt a twinge of regret.

Whether it was for the interruption or his impulsive act, he wasn’t certain.

• • •

As the voice seeped into Avery’s thoughts, reality hit. Her entire body stiffened. Panic re-entered her consciousness, along with total embarrassment, as the reason she lay underneath a stranger in a cemetery in the first place returned. Someone had shot at her. She had to get out of here. Get home and make sure her son was okay.

“Sin?” the same voice asked. “You there?”

He lifted off her and said into his radio, “I’m here,” then rolled away to say more.

Sin? Was that his name? How fitting. He truly was some specter sent from hell to torment her. She wasn’t someone who rolled around in graveyards with strange men after being shot at. She was a grieving widow. A mother, for heaven’s sake. Didn’t she have enough to feel guilty over?

“Are you okay?”

She glanced up at the sound and caught him eyeing her with concern etched into his expression.
Are you okay? Question of the year.
No, she was not okay. She’d never be okay. To prove it, she’d just spent the last few minutes in mindless absurdity, wishing the kiss with a complete stranger could go on forever. She nodded and worked at pretending she wasn’t staring into the most incredible gaze, one that saw more than she cared to expose.

Avery rubbed her temples. Who the hell was he? Whoever he was, he’d probably saved her life. Risking another glance, she took a deep breath. Even in the shadows, she noted an arresting presence. His face wasn’t pretty. Too many angles and hard edges . . . adding to his undeniable maleness. And he had a power about him that held her in its force, which only increased her internal turbulence. No wonder she’d felt protected underneath him and totally safe, which made no sense at all.

In the blink of an eye, her fear returned full force. She was totally aware of her vulnerability. His size, dwarfing her five feet nine inches, suddenly made her feel defenseless.

“You sure?” He waited a moment, watching her closely. When she didn’t offer a reply, he stood, bent to help her, and flashed a quick, lopsided grin. “Sorry about that kiss. I got carried away.”

Avery took his offered hand and allowed him to pull her up. “I . . . um . . . no problem.” What else could she say? She’d gotten carried away too? He probably thought kissing men she’d never met in cemeteries after being shot at was her norm.

Someone shot at her.

“I need to go.” She yanked her hand out of his grasp.
Home.
Everything would be okay if she could just make it home and check on Andy. That thought became a driving force.

“Hold on.” He reached for his wallet, retrieved a business card, and held it out. “My name’s Jeffrey Sinclair.”

Avery stopped her retreat long enough to take the card.

So his name was Sinclair, not Sin. The fact didn’t ease her conscience any after what she’d just done. Sin or no Sin, she’d made a complete fool of herself. She had to get out of here.

Despite a million questions peppering her brain, she turned and darted out of instinct, disturbed by the kiss as much as what preceded it.

Never in a billion years would she consider herself someone who’d meet an unknown man’s mouth so crazily. Not when, according to Mike, she was frigid and never got emotional. But here she was an emotional mess and the thought only swamped her with more emotion.

She veered in the direction of her parked car as more humiliation rose up over her reaction to a complete stranger. His presence had made her feel cherished. That alone seemed totally illogical, but when he’d bent to kiss her, she hadn’t been able to turn away. In those few seconds she’d felt more alive than she had in fifteen years. Mike’s kisses had never generated such a response.

“Wait. I’d like to talk to you. Make sure you’re safe.”

That same gripping, almost disturbing voice carried on the wind. She fought to ignore the urgent tone, but somehow the quality reached past the physical, just as his concerned stare had done, touching something deep inside her she didn’t want touched.

“No . . . ,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m fine. Really. I appreciate your help, but I’ve got to get home.” By the time she made it to her car she was running. She slowed her steps and looked back. He’d made no attempt to follow, thank God, just stood and watched her in the moonlit shadows. With her focus still on him, she hit the keyless entry. Lights flashed and the locks snapped up. She scrambled inside.

In seconds, Avery had her seat belt fastened and the car started. She worked to keep her foot steady as she put the car in gear and sped off.

Maybe running away denoted cowardice, but cowardice was the least of her troubles.

• • •

“What happened? Why is she leaving?”

Jeffrey Sinclair ignored the questions, still keeping a protective watch as her car’s taillights flashed brighter when she slowed to turn left onto the main road leading out of the cemetery.

“Sin?” Desmond Phillips strode up to him. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

He turned to his business partner and grunted. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“But it’s obvious at this point she’s part of it. She’s been here every night we’ve staked out the gravesite. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to discover what she knows.”

“It can wait. What I want to know is . . . why would someone try and kill her?”

“
Diversionary tactic
,” Des spit out. “Had to be. A high-powered rifle with a silencer? He was probably using a scope. Had a clean shot and missed. On purpose. To draw us out. Which in my book indicates some kind of involvement.”

“Maybe.” Sin’s gaze moved to the now empty street. He clenched a fist, hating that he had no answers. Why had he spoken to her? Even more disturbing, why had he kissed her . . .
her, of all women?

He snorted. Hell, he knew why. He hadn’t been able to stop, that’s why. Now, more than ever, she intrigued him. Each and every evening she’d made her nightly visits, he’d stationed himself just feet away. Watching . . . waiting . . . wanting.

“Shit,” he whispered, and then shook his head. Why deny his attraction? She was one gorgeous woman with curves in all the right places. He’d dealt with attraction before and never lost his head. Not like tonight, when she’d seemed so forlorn, peering at him with those haunting eyes, begging him to give in to the need.

Sin’s fingernails dug deeper into his palms to the point of pain. He needed to find out if a connection existed between his company’s stolen technology and the two dead Army officers. He couldn’t let attractive females sidetrack him. As Des said, the lady now appeared to be involved. But to what extent?

“It’s a waste of time to keep watching tonight. Nothing’s going to happen now.”

Des’s voice yanked him back to the the reason they were lurking in a cemetery—the anonymous tip concerning the thefts from Sinclair Phillips & Coleman Electronics. “I agree.” He nodded. “Whoever we were waiting for most likely got scared off with all the commotion.”

“Had to be a setup.” Des flashed a light onto the grass surrounding the headstones. The light caught something shiny. He stopped and crouched to dig at the ground with his pocketknife.

“But why?” Sin drew a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his neck. He began rubbing, trying to massage the kinks out. “What the hell have we stumbled into? Nothing makes sense. It’s as if someone’s playing a sick game. With our company. With our livelihood.” The last phase of testing SPC’s prototypes had been right on schedule until they’d gone missing. Now they had to deal with two more thefts.

“According to Colonel Williams’s report, neither Major Crandall nor Major Montgomery fit the traitor profiles, and there’s nothing to show their involvement.” He watched Des extract a bullet from a nearby tree. Yet Montgomery had been in charge of testing the powerful light-driven tracking, listening, and recording devices. The dead major was the last known person to have them in his possession. In an attempt to learn all he could about him . . . and about
her,
Sin had memorized the pertinent details.

The stunning brunette’s life read like a storybook romance on paper until Montgomery’s death. Her deceased husband had been an all-American—athletic, good-looking, gifted—the poster boy for his college fraternity. The high school sweethearts had lived in the D.C. area, attending local Alexandria schools until college. He’d been two years ahead of her, graduating
summa cum laude
from Georgetown University before entering the Army.

“The colonel’s right. Major Montgomery served ten years with a spotless record and several medals.” Sin exhaled a resigned sigh. “He’s a fricking war hero, not your usual scumbag who’s sold his country’s latest technology to the highest bidder.”

Crandall’s file read similarly. Despite the glowing words, Sin wasn’t about to remove either officer from his short list of suspects. Military Intelligence had cleared them of all wrongdoing, but he and his partners couldn’t afford to overlook any possibility. Too much was at stake.

“Maybe Montgomery needed the money.”

“Money wasn’t an issue.” Sin met Des’s gaze. “He came from old money, had access to a hefty trust fund. In fact, according to the file, several generations of Montgomerys earned money through interest, not hard work, and they all had one thing in common. They believed in giving back to society through public service, which plays into the war hero scenario.”