Page 82 of Dangerous Lover

Yes, of course. She was out in the open with a mass murderer. A man who, moreover, had boasted that he was always armed. Actually, he hadn’t boasted, he’d just said it matter-of-factly, but still. She had no doubt that he was armed right now.

For your own safety,the agent had said.Get away.

Jack was armed, Jack could hurt her. However painful that thought was, it was the truth. Wasn’t it?

An FBI agent, ready and willing to protect her, was right there, outside her shop. All she had to do was run to him.

So why was she hunkering down behind the gazebo, cheek pressed against the splintery wooden base, hands turning blue from the cold?

The cold was so intense, it was a wonder Agent Butler and Jack couldn’t hear her chattering teeth. She was in her shop shoes—pretty black pumps that were pathetic in this weather. They were waterlogged and stiff with the cold. The snow was already halfway up her ankles, her feet lost in the cold, wet slush. She could barely feel them. If she was going to make a run for it, now was the time, before her feet froze and she had to be carried out of the park.

She held on to the brass railing ringing the base of the circular gazebo, heart thudding. She had to run, she had to…

“Caroline!” Jack shouted. “Come to me!” Oh God. Caroline closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. So deep, so reassuring. She huddled more deeply into the snow. Her cheeks were wet and cold with melted snow and tears.

“Ms. Lake!” Special Agent Butler sounded closer. The voice was muffled, but by snow and not distance. “Remember what I said about Deaver! He’s a killer. He’ll use you as a hostage to get away. Run towards me and I’ll cover you.”

“Jesus, Caroline!” Jack’s deep voice cracked. “Don’t believe him!He’s Vince Deaver. He’ll kill you the way you squash a bug, and with just as much remorse. I saw him kill women and children in Africa. Stay put! I’m coming towards you.”

“No!”she screamed, standing up, ready to run if he came for her. The wind was whipping ice particles in her eyes and she had to swipe at them to be able to see for even a moment. Her hands were so cold they were clumsy as they batted ather eyes. “Don’t come near me.” She sobbed the words out, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Don’t come, Jack. Stay where you are.”

Silence. The only sound was the wind in the trees, muffled by the snow, and her own thundering heart.

Fuck!

Jack didn’t dare go after Caroline. He could barely see her, behind a big round bandstand, hunkered down. But he didn’t have to see her face to know that she was crying, the tears had been in her voice.

She was scared and disoriented, her head filled with Deaver’s lies. None of it made any difference, what was important now was keeping her away from Deaver. If he was here, it was to use Caroline as bait for the diamonds. Jack had no idea how Deaver had escaped from the UN soldiers and tracked Caroline down, or known enough about her to know that he’d travel to her, but here he was. Ready, willing and able to hurt Caroline or—God!—kill her.

He wouldn’t kill her right away, he was too smart for that. He’d put a bullet through her kneecap or through an elbow, make her suffer.

If Jack had thought it through, he’d never have taken the fucking diamonds. He didn’t want them. The diamonds weren’t worth one hair on Caroline’s head. If he could, he’d go straight to the bank, open the safe deposit box and hurl them at Deaver’s head. He couldn’t though. If he didn’t play this right, Caroline would get hurt. Maybe killed.

Jack grew cold and detached in combat. His heart rateactually slowed during firefights. He could strategize with bullets flying overhead. Not now, though. Right now he was sweaty and panicked and terrorized. Caroline was forty feet away from him and just might flee into the hands of a stone killer.

How could he think? How could he plan, make the right moves, when his head was filled with horrific visions of Caroline shot, her life blood seeping away into the snow? Screaming in pain with a bullet in her gut.

Jack had seen Deaver take careful aim and blow a woman’s arm off at the shoulder. If he closed his eyes, he could see that on the inside of his lids, only it was Caroline in the line of fire, and it drove him crazy. His heart beat high and wild in his chest and his weapon slipped in his fist. His hands were sweating. He was sweating all over.

What could he do? If he ran towards Caroline, she would bolt, straight into Deaver. If he didn’t make a move, Deaver would. Either way he was fucked.

“Ms. Lake!” Deaver called. “Run now, before it’s too late! I’ve got agents coming, we’ll keep you safe. We’ve got to get you back to your shop. Make a run for it and I’ll cover you!”

Deaver’s voice was stronger. He was edging closer to Caroline. Soon, he’d be able to take a bead on her even if she didn’t bolt.

“Don’t believe him, honey.” Jack kept his voice low, hoping it wasn’t carrying to Deaver. “He’s lying.”

“How—how can he be lying?” Caroline’s voice quavered. “He’s an FBI agent.”

“No, he’s not.” In two long strides, Jack came several feet closer to Caroline, finding cover behind another big oak. “He’s not an FBI agent. He’s a war criminal. He’s responsible for a?—”

“Massacre in an African village. Stealing diamonds. I know.” Caroline was keeping her voice low. “He told me. Only he said it was you. Thatyouwere a war criminal with a fortune in stolen diamonds. And he showed me a photograph of you, Jack. You said you came from Pakistan, but the snapshot showed you in Africa. The time stamp said it was taken on the 21stof December. And Jenna Johnston said that you deposited fifteen million dollars in a bank account. How can I believe you?”

Oh, Jesus.

He didn’t have time to explain, convince. Deaver was going to pounce any minute. Jack would gladly take a bullet for her, but she wouldn’t let him get close enough.

The sweat was pouring down his back, falling into his eyes. He felt sick with fear.