Worth the Risk (18 page)

“He got shot?” Worm asked.

“Yes.”

“Is he dying, then?”

“I hope not.”

“So. Just a death
wish
, then. Put me on Speaker.”

Meredith fumbled for a minute, found the right key, then held the phone out. “Okay. You’re on Speaker.”

“You’re an idiot, Potter.”

Sam smiled. “It would’ve been more idiotic to stay at the hotel, Worm. We got ambushed.”

“How the hell did you manage that? Your identity is virtually untraceable and as I’m sure you recall, I turned off the GPS on the princess’s phone.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Meredith interjected.

“I’m sure he’s aware of that.” Sam’s tone was dry. “They must be following us some other way. They tracked us out to a bus station, too.”

Worm dropped a string of curses, then muttered at them to hang on. In the background, Meredith could hear the clack of keys, and she wondered if the man ever really unplugged.

When he came back on the line, he sounded no calmer. “What’s she wearing?”

Sam tossed Meredith a wink. “Little inappropriate at the moment, my friend.”

The other man cursed again. “I’m serious here, Potter. Something she’s wearing might be bugged. I know it’s not you, because you’re too smart to let them get to you.”

“I can
still
hear you,” Meredith said.

“And yet you’re still not giving me the details.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a pink blouse on the top and jeans on the bottom. But everything I’m wearing came from the hotel.”

“Everything?” Worm asked. “Socks and underwear?”

Sam interrupted again. “You really think her panties are bugged, Worm?”

“Devil’s in the details. Isn’t that what they say? So. Underwear. Yay or nay?”

A blush crept up Meredith’s cheeks, and she raised her voice. “Yes to both. Underwear, top and bottom, provided by the hotel. Socks, too.”

“Anything not given to you?”

Meredith looked down at her feet, then shifted them restlessly. “Just my sneakers.”

“Take the damned things off.”

The urgency in his voice made her scrunch up her legs and unlace them as quickly as she could. “Now what?”

“Throw them out the window.”

“Shouldn’t I try to find the bug first?”

“Simpler to toss ’em.”

“But—”

“But what?”

“Shouldn’t I make sure it’s really there?”

Sam groaned. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” Meredith asked.

But she didn’t have to wait long; Worm launched into a tirade. “Look. I know stalking. I know it better than that our so-called PI of a mutual friend. And I guarantee you those shoes are wired. Probably with something stupidly slow and unreliable. But somewhere, somehow, they got to you. A fail-safe in case that necklace camera didn’t work. It’s what I would do. So you can spend all the time you want tearing them apart. But when you’re doing it, remember that every second you spend doing it is another minute they can spend tracking you. And from what I can tell,
you’re
not the one with the death wish.”

“I don’t have a death wish,” Sam muttered.

“Then throw out the shoes.”

And before Meredith could protest again, Sam snatched up her favorite pair of sneakers, rolled down his window and tossed them straight out. Meredith’s head twisted, and she watched as they bumped along the highway. Then a car, approaching fast from the other direction, ran them over, signaling their complete demise.

Meredith spat out an annoyed breath. “Okay. Seriously. I couldn’t have just dug out the sole or something? I’m going to be running from the bad guys in my socks.”

“No,” Worm argued. “You won’t. Because now the
bad guys
won’t be able to find you. Speaking of which. This phone you’re on is probably pinging off every location device the cops have at their disposal. Don’t suppose you’re willing to throw it out the window, too?”

“No can do,” Sam said. “This phone is our new default lifeline to Meredith’s sister. Think you can do your thing from there?”

“Think? Uh-uh. I know I can do it.”

There was a pause on the other end, and Meredith got the feeling Worm was struggling to decide if he should add something else. And after a few breaths, he did.

“Don’t shoot the messenger about this next bit, okay?” he said. “Because I’m sure as hell you’re not gonna like it.”

Meredith’s heart beat nervously in her chest.

“Spill it,” Sam ordered.

“I tracked the husband, Nicholas Billing, a little more.”

Now, Meredith’s heart thundered. “It’s not Nick.”

Worm made an unintelligible noise, midway between a snort and a sigh. “Fine. But just as a reminder, the last thing he bought was a piece of luggage. Is that a coincidence?”

“He was going on a vacation.”

“That he never booked.”

“It. Is. Not. Him.” As Meredith bit off the words, she could feel Sam’s eyes on her, doing their best to bore into her thoughts.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the road?” she asked.

He turned his gaze frontward. “Anything else, Worm?”

“I think you should reconsider whatever crazy course of action you’re on. But I’m going to guess that’s another no-can-do.”

“Your guess is correct.”

“Then I’ve got nothing. The client list isn’t ready yet and it’s not the husband, so—”

“We’re going to hang up now, Worm.” Without waiting for a reply, Sam reached up and ended the call, then flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “Meredith?”

“Yes?”

“I think it’s time to tell me why you’re so damned sure your brother-in-law has nothing to do with Tamara’s kidnapping.”

She stared out the windshield for a long moment. Then took a breath. And started talking.

Chapter 18

“N
ick didn’t kidnap Tamara because he didn’t need to. If he wanted to hurt her, or get a hold of her money, or cover up some secret file, all he’d have to do is tell the world her secret.
Our
secret.” Meredith paused to glance at Sam, trying to gauge his reaction, but aside from a barely discernible twitch of his mouth, his face betrayed nothing, so she went on. “I was twenty when I met him. He was a junior associate at the law firm where I worked as a paralegal, and I kind of thought of him as a reward for the years I spent raising Tamara. Smart. Handsome. Thoughtful. The perfect trophy boyfriend.
My
trophy boyfriend.”

The label came out a little shaky, and it felt funny—unnatural—to place herself with Nick in those terms. And now Sam’s mouth more than twitched. It drew into a straight, thin line.

He’s jealous.

And that didn’t feel funny. It felt...good. Weirdly good, tinged with a tiny bit of guilt.

She stared at him for another second and then added, “We couldn’t tell anyone about our relationship because it violated company policy. It didn’t last for long anyway. Ten weeks. Which was just enough time for me to introduce him to my only family.”

Sam’s jaw loosened a little, then tightened again. “Tamara.”

“It only took them a week or two to fall in love. And a whole month to confess it to me.”

“The one bad thing you were talking about was this. Nicholas Billing had an affair with your sister.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re set on defending him.”

“I’m defending him because he’s innocent.”

“I see.” His voice was wooden.

“I was setting on hating him for a long time first. Both of them.”

“And that changed why?”

Meredith remembered how much the betrayal galled. Not how much it hurt, just how angry it made her. She’d worked for so long, putting aside her personal needs, putting aside the possibility of wanting anything for herself. And then she’d found Nick, and he’d fit the mold of everything she’d being missing. Of everything she
thought
she’d been missing in life.

“But I really wasn’t missing him at all,” she said softly.

“Pardon me?”

Meredith cleared her throat. “It changed because I was mad at them for taking away what I thought I wanted. But eventually I realized that it—that Nick—wasn’t what I wanted anyway.”

“That simple?”

“Not even remotely. Before I figured it all out, I said a lot of cruel things to Tamara. I accused her of not understanding what I’d sacrificed to raise her. Of deliberately sabotaging my happiness. That she was too young. And I told her Nick wouldn’t be faithful to her, either. I
promised
her he wouldn’t, actually. After that, I didn’t talk to them for months. I moved away from the house our parents left us. I quit my job at the firm where Nicholas worked. Changed my phone numbers. I did everything I could to put separation between me and the humiliation.”

“But you forgave her.”

Meredith’s heart clenched. “I didn’t forgive her. Not then. In fact, the more that went right for Tamara, the less I was able to feel happy for her. The better their life seemed to be, the more I pulled away. But then Tamara came to my apartment with a ring on her finger, begging me to be her maid of honor. And I couldn’t very well say no. She was still my sister. The kid I raised.”

“I get it.”

“I know you do.” Meredith stared out the window and watched the horizon for a minute before speaking again. “They had a long engagement. Eighteen months. And that’s when she started building her blog. Her perfect upcoming marriage to her perfect man with her perfect plan to make the whole thing last. Her blog gained traction quickly. And by the time the wedding day rolled around, Tamara’s business was in full swing. Her advice column became a book deal. Some community college courses and a certificate made her a counselor. And all of it was documented for her fans.”

“Leaving out one small detail, of course.”

“Yes. Leaving that out. Because it would’ve destroyed her business completely before it even got off the ground.”

Sam shook his head. “You don’t think there might be something in the so-called Hamish file that trumps that?”

“No.”

“Evidence of an affair, maybe? Or something else luridly and lawyerly that Nicholas got involved in.”

“Trust me. The man’s about as mundane as they come. And his lawyerly-ness is far heavier than his luridly-ness.” Meredith laughed a little. “And besides that, they have an insane prenuptial agreement.”

Sam’s eyes snapped her way for a second. “An insane prenup?”

Meredith nodded. “Typical Nick. His way of apologizing. Of reaching out to me to try and right the wrong he’d done, because that’s just how he works. The agreement was full of crazy conditions that would void any future claim Nick had to her not-yet-existent fortune.”

Sam tapped his fingers on the wheel, a frown digging a furrow in his brow. “Conditions. You’re not seriously saying that included kidnapping.”

“Anything that would cause Tamara harm, physical or emotional.”

“That’s awfully vague.”

“I told you it was insane.”

“I’m not sure that’s a strong enough word.”

“But now you see why he couldn’t be involved? If it was as simple as wanting to bring her down, Nick could do it. And if he tried to get around the conditions of the prenup, he’d have to give up any stake in her business,” Meredith said, then let out a raw, shame-filled breath. “I never got up the guts to tell her I forgave her. Or to admit that even though what she and Nick did to me was awful, it didn’t hurt me the way I made it out to do. I left that giant rift between us. I let it grow and grow.”

“I’ve been on the short end of this particular stick myself. Wishing I’d kept some things to myself and wishing I’d said more than a few aloud, too.” He shrugged, but his face was pained. “I’m sure Kelsey would rather have had my support about her and Heely instead of my constant doubt. I could’ve bitten my tongue. Kept my opinion to myself. Would, if I could go back.”

His expression mirrored the feelings in Meredith’s heart, and she wanted desperately to soothe away his hurt. “But at least everything you went through was to do some good. Maybe Kelsey would like that.”

Sam shot her a funny look—like he’d never considered that idea before—and his mouth turned up in a half smile. “I bet you’re right. She complained a lot about how dangerous my job was, but she always said it made her proud to know I was out saving lives and protecting people. That I was doing the right thing.”

“Do you think it’s too late for
me
to make something good out of all this?”

He reached out to squeeze her hand again. “I’m not going to let it be too late, sweetheart.”

“Are you making another impossible promise?”

“I guess I am.”

“You’re setting a bad precedent, you know.”

“Yeah, I should probably rein it in before I take it too far and accidentally stick a ring on your... Oh, wait.”

Meredith glanced down. She’d all but forgotten the small diamond.

“I can give it back,” she said quickly.

“Uh-uh. I think I’d like you to be my fake wife a little longer.”

She leaned against the seat, almost giddy with relief.
Ridiculous relief.
But she still had to resist an urge to tuck her hand away to hide the ring in case Sam changed his mind.

“You realize this means I’m going to go ahead and take a point,” she said.

“For continuing to be fake married?”

“Yes.”

His lips curled up even more. “Explain to me how that’s a point for you.”

“Easy. I’m saving you from having to keep track of the ring, of course. So that makes it what? Five to four?”

Now Sam was full-on grinning. “So long as we agree that it’s still in my favor?”

“Like you’d let it be any other way.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad we’re at a point in our relationship that you understand that.”

Their relationship.

Meredith’s heart did a wild flip. One part nerves. One part hope. Though maybe it meant nothing. Or maybe it was a slip of the tongue.

But maybe not.

She fixed her gaze out the window, afraid if she looked at Sam, he’d read the way her thoughts were going.

Could a relationship—a real one, that is—develop over such a short time? It seemed like a crazy leap. Sam was more or less a stranger. But he really didn’t feel like one. Instead, it felt as though she’d known him for a lifetime. She’d shared more of her secrets with him, been more genuine and open with him, than she had been with anyone. She was used to distancing herself from men and keeping her guard up. And spending the last five years in temp jobs didn’t give her much of an opportunity to make close friends, either.

Meredith wondered again if the frantic pace of their search had also increased the pace of the getting-to-know-you phase. She guessed it made sense. And it probably should’ve been at least a bit frightening. But instead of scaring Meredith, it comforted her. Like riding the downward slope of a roller coaster. Fast. Heart-stopping. And utterly exhilarating. So if she had to go through this, at least she could go through it with a man who made her feel like that.

And how much time had they spent together anyway? How many solid, one-on-one hours? Over a day and a half. That equaled more than thirty-six hours. The equivalent of eighteen two-hour dates. Or maybe twelve three-hour ones. What did twelve to eighteen dates equate to in the grand scheme of relationship things? Three months of dating? That sounded about right. So. Not a stranger at all, if she thought of it like that. Out there, in the regular world, they might be in a coffee shop, talking about moving in together. They might be under the covers of their shared bed, talking about the future
.
Or they might be under those same covers, not talking at all.

And for sure, they would’ve shared those three little words that bubbled just under the surface of Meredith’s heart and made it pound recklessly.

She was falling in love with him, and it scared her as much as it pleased her.

* * *

Sam watched Meredith from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out what was on her mind, but her expression was unreadable.

He hadn’t meant to drop the
R
word. And even if he
had
planned on saying it, he wouldn’t have expected her to go so suddenly quiet. To shut down. He guessed he had no one to blame but himself. He’d assumed her feelings were turning the same way as his. That she was falling as fast and hard as he was.

With as much subtlety as a freight train,
he thought.

He tested out the corners of his mind where Meredith had taken up residence. Probing them in search of weak spots. All he found was solidity and warmth.

Thirty-six hours in, and he was crazy about her.

He wanted her to feel the same. He wanted her to put aside sense and reason to see how perfectly they fit together.

Hell. He just plain wanted
her.

For himself and no one else.

Sam’s jaw stiffened. He was doing his best to rein it in, but her confession about her involvement with her brother-in-law set Sam’s teeth on edge. Not because Meredith had dated the man. She was a grown woman—a dating history was pretty much a given. But that wasn’t what dug at him the most. It was everything else. The betrayal by both Tamara and Nick. The wild conditions of the prenuptial agreement as some kind of peace offering. The fact that Meredith had no choice but to let it slide for the sake of her family. Her fortitude about it all.

Sam’s anger spiked. He wished like crazy he could go back in time and undo the hurt.

Dammit.

He didn’t have time to add something else to his list of regrets. Especially not for something he had no control over. Could
never
have had control over. He needed to get past it. To let it slide the same way she had.

He glanced at her again. As much as Sam wanted to talk to her about all of this, he knew that what they really needed right that second was a bit of levity.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

She jumped like he’d pinched her, then swallowed. “Yes?”

“Do you want to play Twenty Questions?”

Her face went from nervous to puzzled. “Why?”

Sam shrugged. “Because I Spy is a little boring when all the scenery is the same color.”

She smiled. “Fine. You go first.”

“Perfect. I’ll give you a hint. The theme is my favorite things. And the first one is smaller than a breadbox and it goes well with ice cream.”

Her smile widened. “I think I’d better explain the rules to you.”

Relieved that then tension was gone—at least for the moment—Sam steered the conversation to lighter topics. Middle names—hers was Charlotte after her grandmother and his was Gordon after some singer his parents liked—and favorite foods, which turned out to be Chinese for Meredith and fried anything for Sam. They compared old sports injuries—she had one twisted ankle to his two broken arms—and Sam told her stories about his time on the force, funny enough to make her laugh out loud. He coaxed out the disastrous tale of her first high school dance and told him about his failed senior year romance. He lamented over the fact that she had an unreasonable fear of motorcycles, while he loved them and had always wanted to own one.

But if Sam was being honest with himself, even the lighthearted conversation just drove his desire for Meredith higher. The more he knew about her, the more he wanted to kiss the hell out of her and hold her close and tell her how he felt. To not let his feelings become one of those things he left unsaid. To remind her again that he wouldn’t let her down. To reassure her about Tamara’s safety and... Sam’s brain skidded to a stop at Meredith’s sister’s name.

Tamara.

His mind paused there, hanging. Then it rewound to the thing that he hadn’t been able to pinpoint—the thing that struck him as odd during their brief phone interaction. Clarity came rushing forward.

It’s not what she said.
It’s how she said it.