Page 12 of Maliea's Hero

Finally, she moved. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked toward the corner instead of at him. “I don’t know. This is a mistake. I’m not sure I need protection. But I didn’t know where else to turn. I can’t go back to my apartment, and I can’t even use my own car. I had to borrow Tish’s.”

“Perhaps you could start at the beginning. Have a seat. Would you like a drink? I’m sorry, I think all I have in the fridge is?—”

“—beer,” she finished for him. “No, thank you. I think I should go.”

“Do you have a place to go?” he asked softly.

Her pretty brow puckered, and she shook her head.

“Is someone after you?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Maybe.”

He fought for patience. The fear in the woman’s eyes was palpable. But she was holding back like she didn’t want to tell him anything. Was she being abused? Was her husband or ex-boyfriend stalking her? He could only guess, and that would be a waste of time. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, her pretty brown eyes filling with tears.

“Could you at least tell me your name?” he asked, frustrated by her refusal to talk to him. How could he protect her if he didn’t know what he was protecting her from?

Despite his frustration at her reticence, his protective instinct was on high alert. He wanted to help her. He wanted to take the fear from her eyes and pound the shit out of whoever was tormenting her. He wanted to protect her.

Reid moved closer. “Talk to me. Tell me your name.”

A movement behind her made Reid tense, ready to strike.

A tiny version of the pretty woman edged out of the shadows to stand beside the woman. “Her name is Maliea, and I’m Nani.” She held up her hand with three fingers extended. “I’m three years old.”

Seeing the child beside the woman hit Reid square in the gut. His first instinct was to back out of the cabin, jump into his Porsche and drive as fast and far away as he could get.

Three.

Holy fucking hell.

The little girl with long dark hair, like her mother’s, was three. The same age as his daughter, Abby.

But there, the similarity ended.

Where Abby was blond-haired and blue-eyed, Nani had dark hair and big, innocent brown eyes. She was Maliea’s mini-me incarnate. Someday, that little girl would be as stunning as her mother and break men’s hearts.

Men as gullible and trusting as he’d been.

“Are you okay?” Nani asked. “You look like you ate too much ice cream. When I eat too much ice cream, my tummy hurts. Does your tummy hurt?”

Oh, yes, his tummy hurt. It clenched from the gut-wrenching pain of losing his daughter when his wife had walked out.

He closed his eyes to block out the big, beautiful eyes of a child who was concerned about his tummy.

Reel it in, man. Reel it in.

He squared his shoulders, opened his eyes and gave the little girl a tight smile. “My tummy is okay. Thank you for asking.” He turned to her mother.

“Ma’am,” he said, keeping it formal. The less involved he got with mother and daughter, the better. “Perhaps we can go someplace to get a bite to eat.”

Her brow furrowed, and she started shaking her head. “We worked hard to get me and Nani out of Tish’s apartment so we wouldn’t be followed.”

“I got to ride in a beach bag,” Nani announced with a grin. “I didn’t move. Not even a little.”

Maliea touched a hand to her daughter’s hair. “You were so good.”