Trusting a Stranger
Trusting a Stranger
Kimberley Brown
Trusting a Stranger
Kimberley Brown
A new romantic suspense novel set in Italy, where not even the Tuscan sun can fully expose the dark and shadowy underbellyâ¦
Hayley Wolfe will do anything to keep her father healthy and comfortable for as long as possible. When she is offered a hefty contract in return for some international travel, she jumps at the chance, and the security the paycheque provides. Though the beautiful Tuscan villa doesn't look like a hotbed of crime, nor its owner a deviant and evil man, looks can be deceivingâ¦
Investigator Ethan MacDonald will do anything to keep his young daughter Katy safe from his ex-wife's family, even from beautiful young women who infiltrate his home. Hayley claims to have arrived under false pretenses, but Ethan well knows the lengths his in-laws will go to to get what they want.
With Katy's life on the line, there's no time for misplaced confidence. Will Ethan and Hayley risk everything for their families by learning to trust a stranger?
Kimberley Brown is a Melbourne writer and travel addict with very few spare pages left in her passport. She loves to set her stories of romance and suspense in the beautiful places she has been. Kimberley has three children and a crazy black Labrador. You can learn more about her at www.kimberley-brown.com
Thanks to pilots, taxi drivers and travel guide writers everywhere, and to my husband, who (usually) keeps us out of danger.
For my family, who took me on my first international flight when I was 3 months old, and understand why a suitcase is kept permanently at the foot of the stairs
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Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishingâ¦
Pebbles crunching underfoot, back pressed against the warm sandstone wall, Hayley Wolfe panted slightly and turned to check once again that she wasn't being followed.
Was she being paranoid or did she have a reason to worry? From a distance, as she circled the grand Italian villa on her Vesper scooter, Hayley had seen a solitary guard sitting outside one of the locked, green-shuttered doors. Feet stretched out before him, hat pulled low over his brow, the obviously strong man had been asleep, or had been pretending to sleep.
Hayley had taken careful stock of his posture, his long and muscular limbs encased in military-style camouflage gear. She continued to be very quiet, hoping not to disturb him. But she hadn't been able to clear her mind of the suspicion that he only pretended to sleep. The line of his muscles, not quite relaxed, reminded her of a lion â ready at any moment to pounce. Not to mention that there could easily be other guards. Hayley was careful as her eyes scanned the surrounding countryside.
The green fields and vineyards were calm and sun-touched, only punctuated here and there by a sandstone building similar to this one, or a brace of tall, dark cypresses. The air was as warm and still as the sky. The only creatures moving were a few birds making slow, big circles, far away.
How tragic that what finally brought her to Tuscany was tantamount to spying! Hayley had wanted to travel ever since she was at school. Italian language studies had been her favourite subject. On the plane on the way here from Australia, she had rehearsed what she remembered from those classes. Her flight attendant and fellow passengers, some of them Italian, had smiled at her attempts.
Ciao. Sono lieto di incontrarmi con voi. Che bella giornata!
Hello. I'm so pleased to meet you. What a beautiful day! She was finally going to Italy; she was finally here.
But now, Hayley paused, concealed by the remains of a crumbling wall, and pushed a strand of blonde hair behind one ear before wiping at a tear that suddenly welled in her eye. She always responded passionately to beauty, and this landscape truly was beautiful. How sad that she couldn't linger to appreciate the symmetrical sandstone houses! Or just stand here gazing at the verdant, elegant poplars! That was the way she had imagined the first hours of her first Italian trip. Instead, she had to worry that those buildings and trees might conceal someone who wished her harm, someone who would expose her as a fake.
Hayley shook her head, impatient with herself. There was nothing to be achieved by indulging her fear; she had to do what she had been sent to do. She had accepted money for this job.
Hayley turned her attention back to the building she had been sent to investigate. The walls were thick terracotta stone. They looked impenetrable. But was there a chance she could reach high enough to direct her camera through one of the low, unshuttered windows?
Hayley attached the long distance zoom lens to her camera and fiddled with its settings until the wall came into focus through her viewfinder. But the window was still too far away. She looked around her. There was no one in sight. Hayley needed to move closer.
She let the camera hang on its strap to her side as she began to move closer. But what was that? A flash of some sort of fabric?
Someone was coming. A security guard.
Hayley sucked in her breath. A security guard? In this peaceful neighbourhood?
A few moments ago, cruising down a quiet road on her scooter, Hayley had felt the distinct impression that this was the kind of area where people probably didn't even lock their doors. Perhaps a security guard itself was proof that something was going on here. Her sense of unease increased.
But it was no surprise that the owner of this villa had signs of being a criminal. In a phone call back in Melbourne, Alvaro Tomasi had already told Hayley all she needed to know about the illicit activities of the man who lived here.
The security guard walked along the side of the house and disappeared around another corner. He hadn't even looked in her direction. Hayley slumped, relieved. From here she could see her next problem: the window she wanted to peer through was very high from the ground. Perhaps Alvaro should have hired a taller woman.
But she couldn't think like that. She had come here on a mission and couldn't fail at the first difficulty she came up against. The truth was that, although the window was very high, it was not possible for her to be taller. Hayley knew she had to concentrate on what she actually could do. Determined to be practical about this task, as she had never really been practical about anything, Hayley reminded herself that she could only be who she was, do what she could do. She could not take a photo through the window. The front door it was, then.
Hayley straightened her shoulders, straightened her skirt, ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blonde curls and took three deep breaths. She was a professional photographer, she reminded herself. Yes, this was an unconventional assignment â nothing like the weddings that were her usual work â but wasn't unconventional precisely what she had been looking for?
And she desperately needed the pay packet she had been promised.
âHey, you!'
Hayley's head span, eyes widening in shock. Instinctively, she reached out for the wall to steady herself. It was the guard, standing there at the far corner of the building. He was even taller than she had realised. He had taken his hat off and his hair shone brown, streaked with bronze in the sunlight.
Those were the first things she noticed. The next thing was that his arm was raised and he was pointingâ¦somethingâ¦in her direction.
Was it a gun?
Surely not. Hayley swallowed. She had been told that the owner of this villa was wanted in the United Sates for white-collar crime that had reached its tentacles as far as her own Melbourne community. That, if she could prove he was here and living in the lap of luxury, his extradition back home to face criminal charges would be easy to arrange. She had been glad to be able to help. After all, it was men like this who had defrauded her father of his retirement savings and left him old and penniless as illness threatened.
Nothing in that description gave her any clue that the villa owner's crimes involved serious weapons.
But what other reason could the guard have for raising his arm like that? It sure didn't look like he wanted to shake her hand. Hayley squinted, trying to look closer, but sunlight streamed behind the man's broad shoulders, throwing his face into silhouette, and it was impossible to tell.
It couldn't possibly be a gun that he held⦠Could it? It looked like a gun.
Hayley blinked. People didn't really use those, she reminded herself. Not in real life. He was a guard. It couldn't be normal for house guards to carry weapons. Could it? Once again, she felt particularly clueless. This was just not a situation she had prepared herself for.
The truth was that, even if she'd known whether house guards back at home in Australia carried guns, she wouldn't have had any idea if this applied in Italy as well. Nothing her high school Italian teacher had told her included information about lethal weapons.
Hayley had no choice, really. She had to assume that the man was holding a gun. And she had to act carefully. She needed money desperately, but the last thing her father needed was for her to get shot. Quickly, she considered her options. At least the man had spoken English.
âOh, hello!' she called back, waving her arm in an enthusiastic gesture. âI was hoping I'd find someone. I think I'm lost.'
âLost?' repeated the man, without lowering his arm.
If he had a gun, wouldn't the sunlight glint off it or something?
âI'm trying to speak to the owner of this villa.' Hayley heard her own voice wavering and wondered if he noticed. âCan you help me?'
He had to believe that she was harmless. It didn't matter if he thought she was stupid, as long as he lowered that gun. But the man didn't seem at all convinced. Not even interested. He didn't move as much as a muscle.
Hayley turned slightly to face him. Surely once he realised she was completely unarmed herself and nothing at all of a threat â well, not in that way â he would relax a little.
âCan you help me?' she asked.
âIf you just want to talk to the owner, knocking on the front door is rather more conventional,' the man said gruffly.
âThat's just the thing. I can't find it.'
In his outstretched arms, the weapon moved slightly. The man tipped his head to one side, and then used one hand to push his hair back out of his eyes.
âWhat did you say? You can't find the door?'
The building was an irregular shape, several stories high with tall, green-shuttered windows and doors on three of the sides, any one of which might have been the official entry. To add to the possible confusion, there was a pebble drive that wrapped around the house and roads approaching it from three different directions. Enough options for Hayley's excuse to sound vaguely plausible.
Hopefully.
She shook her head and did her best to look helpless. âI haven't been here before. I've been sent to cover a story. I'm a photographer.'
She waved her camera at him in support of her story, although she was sure that with the razor-sharp nature of his gaze, he must already have noticed it. It was time now, surely, for him to lower his gun.
But he didn't.
âCan you help me?' Hayley called.
âStory?'
If anything, the man's tone sounded even brusquer than before. There was actually something about the additional lift to his shoulders that looked almost alarmed.
Hayley found herself intrigued by that. What could she have said that would put him so on guard?
âWhat kind of story?' the guard demanded.
