Authors: Lisa Childs
“I didn’t want to cause any problems between you,” Amber said. But she was worried she had, despite her best efforts not to.
The tears overflowed now, pouring down Stacy’s face as she pulled Amber into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“I get why you were angry at me,” she said as she cried, too. “I would have been upset with you if you’d let me think you were dead.” She would have been devastated, too. It had been so hard when her friend had been in danger a year ago.
“I should have known you were just protecting your son,” Stacy said. “Like you’ve been protecting that jackass I call a brother.”
“The jackass will leave the two of you alone now,” Milek said as he slipped back out of the room.
“I can’t believe he did that to you,” Stacy said. “That he doubted you...”
“I know why now,” Amber admitted. “He told me Gregory claimed the baby I was carrying was his.”
Stacy cursed. “That son of a bitch. No wonder somebody had him killed.”
Amber released a ragged sigh. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not thinking I was sleeping with my boss like everyone else does.”
Stacy snorted. “Sure, Schievink had the hots for you. That’s probably why he tried to make trouble with Milek. But you would never cheat on my brother. You were in love with him.” She glanced to the bed and arched a brow. “I think you still are.”
Amber shook her head. “I don’t even know him anymore.” She wasn’t sure she ever had. “Something’s going on with him.” Something that kept him from sharing his bed with her again. “He either believes all the awful rumors about me and Gregory, or...”
“Or?” Stacy prodded her.
“He really doesn’t care about me at all.”
Stacy wound her arm more tightly around her shoulders, offering her the comfort and affection Amber had needed so badly. “You didn’t see him this past year,” she said. “He was devastated. He cares.”
“He told you that?”
Stacy bit her lip.
Maybe Milek had feelings for her, but if he would never admit to them—to her or anyone else including himself—it didn’t matter. They would never be together again—whether or not Frank Campanelli finished the job he’d been hired to do.
* * *
It was an ambush. Milek knew it the minute he stepped inside Rus’s office. He wasn’t alone. Garek was with him, their heads bent close together as they talked—discussing him, no doubt.
At least Logan wasn’t here. He was with Amber and Michael. And Stacy. His sister had forgiven her best friend. He breathed a sigh of relief over that—glad their relationship had been repaired. He knew how much it meant to both women.
The two men looked up at him. “You came,” Rus said.
“Of course,” Milek replied. “You summoned me.”
“Surprised you pried yourself away from her,” Garek said.
Milek snorted. “You should talk—you couldn’t stay away from Candace even when your presence put her in more danger.”
Garek’s face flushed. He couldn’t deny he’d never been able to keep his distance from the woman who was now his wife. Not that Milek intended to make Amber his wife.
He’d been crazy to even consider it those years ago.
“Your situation is different,” Garek said.
He couldn’t have agreed more.
“Amber is the one putting you in danger.”
“It’s not her fault,” he said.
The two men just stared at him. “You’re both wrong about her,” he said. “She has nothing to do with Schievink’s murder or that attempt on my life.”
He was disgusted they could even think that of her. And he showed that disgust, pointing at his older brother. “She’s Stacy’s best friend. She was there for our sister when we couldn’t be...”
Because Milek had been in juvenile detention and Garek in prison.
“You know what kind of person she is,” he persisted.
Garek furrowed his brow in confusion. “If you’re so enamored with her, why the hell didn’t you marry her?”
Milek wouldn’t answer that. “That’s none of your damn business.”
“It is my business,” Garek said, his temper snapping as his face flushed an even deeper shade of red.
His family didn’t understand him; they never had. He just shook his head.
“My wife was in danger the other night, too,” Garek said, his voice vibrating with anger. “That son of a bitch shot out her windshield. He could have hit her.”
“She shouldn’t have been following me,” Milek said.
“You’re damn lucky she was or you might not have survived.”
Milek had already concluded the same thing. Frank—if it had been Frank—would have kept shooting until he’d hit him if Candace hadn’t been there, too.
Humbled, he nodded. “I know.”
Garek nodded, too—in silent agreement.
“Did you find out any more about the shooting in the alley or in the hotel parking lot?” Milek asked.
“The truck he left in the alley was stolen,” Nick replied. “The gun was stolen, too—from an arms shipment a few months ago.”
“Chekov’s?” Garek asked.
Nick nodded. “And you’d think Campanelli would know better than to steal from him.”
“Maybe it wasn’t Campanelli in the alley,” Milek said. “You found blood in the hotel parking lot.” He hoped he’d hit the assassin. “It could be someone else.”
“That’s not a good thing,” Garek said. “We don’t need a bunch of hit men coming after you like what happened with Logan and Parker last year.”
“We need to find out who hired Campanelli,” Milek said.
“I gave you copies of the reports,” Nick said. “Did you find anything?”
Milek hated to admit defeat. But he’d found nothing. He shook his head.
Nick sighed. “I spent the past year looking for who hired Frank Campanelli to kill the DA. Nobody on that list of names Amber gave me panned out as a viable suspect.”
“That’s why we need to find Frank Campanelli,” Milek said. “If I hit him in that parking lot, he must have sought treatment.”
“But where?” Nick asked. “Up north or here?”
Milek shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know we need to find him.” If he’d survived. “We can get him to tell us who hired him.”
Nick snorted. “He’s a professional. Even if we catch him, he’s not going to give up who hired him.”
Milek would make certain he did—even if he had to beat it out of him. “He’ll tell me.”
Garek shook his head. “The only thing Frank Campanelli is going to do is kill you.”
“He hasn’t tried since the other night,” Milek reminded them.
Of course, he hadn’t been out since then. He’d been holed up in the condo with Amber and their son, trying to ignore his attraction to the woman. Succumbing to desire that first night had been a mistake. He hadn’t been able to sleep since then and not because he’d been worried about her safety.
He was worried about his heart. That was the only danger he was in from Amber—of falling even more deeply in love with her.
* * *
Despite the cold wind blowing between the buildings of downtown River City, heat suffused Frank. Part of it was that damn infection Dr. Gunz had warned he might get. He’d had to go back to the doc’s mansion for a dose of IV antibiotics. The infection probably wasn’t gone yet, but painkillers had taken the edge off Frank’s discomfort. They hadn’t affected his temper at all, though.
That was the other reason he was hot. He was pissed. Milek Kozminski hadn’t given him another opportunity for revenge. He’d stayed holed up inside that fortress he called home. Until now...
But he wasn’t alone. Kozminski was never completely alone. There were always other people following him—like the Amazon woman the night he’d trapped Kozminski in the alley. If not for her, this could have been over already.
Frank needed it to be over. He didn’t even care right now who else was following Kozminski. Frank had taken out witnesses right in front of the US Marshals or police officers assigned to protect them. He could deal with a bodyguard or two—in order to deal with Milek Kozminski.
He had to make the most of the opportunity he’d finally been given. So he quickened his pace as he followed Kozminski down the city street. He’d just left the River City Police Department. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulder, he shuddered in revulsion. That was the last place he ever intended to be.
He’d been picked up once—when he’d been a kid who’d had more balls than brains. He was smarter now. He wouldn’t get caught again.
But then Milek Kozminski turned around and stared directly at him. His hand tightened around the handle of his gun. Would he be fast enough to pull it out?
Fortunately the gunshot wound had been through his left shoulder, since he was right-handed. He’d have to draw fast because Milek’s hand was close to his holster—as if he was prepared for anything. Frank would probably have only one chance to get off a shot before Kozminski returned fire.
So one shot would have to be enough. It would have to be the kill shot.
Chapter 11
M
ilek had been gone a long time. Too long. Was he all right? Amber closed her son’s bedroom door and walked back into the living room.
Stacy and Logan had left a while ago. The former marine Cooper Payne leaned against the wall by the door now, his gun drawn. The metal creaked as the door began to slide open. He swung his barrel toward the shadow stepping over the threshold.
“Damn,” Milek remarked as he pressed his hand to his chest. “Little edgy?”
“I’ve learned not to assume it was you just because the alarm didn’t go off,” Cooper said. “And you seem like the edgy one.”
Milek didn’t argue with the man. He just nodded. “Thanks for being careful,” he said. “I can take over now.”
Cooper shrugged off the gratitude. “Anytime...”
Amber waited until the other man left before asking, “What’s wrong?”
Because something was. As Cooper had noticed, he was edgy—his body tense, his hands shaking slightly.
He expelled a ragged sigh. “I just had a really weird encounter.”
Fear squeezed her heart. “Did Campanelli try to kill you again?”
“No...” He ran his hand along his jaw. “But I think he was close.”
“You saw him?”
“I don’t know what he looks like,” he said. “While someone got his fingerprints off an old juvenile arrest record, there hasn’t been a picture of him taken since then.”
She shivered. “So he could have been close to you.” The thought chilled her, and she wanted—needed—to be close to Milek, to make certain he was all right. She crossed the living room to stand beside him.
“If he was, why didn’t he try to kill me again?” He stepped over to the security panel and pressed a button to bring up the monitors of the area around the former warehouse. He studied the screens.
“Do you think he followed you back here?”
Milek shrugged. “He probably didn’t need to.”
“You think he knows where we are?”
“You know how people talk in this city,” he reminded her. “And he and I know some of the same people. By now I’m sure he knows where I live.”
Her heart began to pound faster. “Then you shouldn’t have brought us here.”
She should have refused to come home with him. But she’d been so scared and alone. If he hadn’t arrived when he had, she would have already been dead.
But, even though he hadn’t sent photos to say so, Frank Campanelli knew exactly where they were again. “We can’t stay,” she said.
He pointed to one of the screens. She stepped closer and peered at it. Near the back of the building, in the shadow of the Dumpster, something moved. She gasped.
“He’s out there now.” Panic pressed on her lungs, stealing her breath. “We need to leave.”
“It’s not the Ghost,” he assured her. “Look again.”
She turned back to the screen and studied the shadow. While long, there were curves to it. Relief shuddered through her. “It’s Candace.”
Milek tapped another screen. “And there’s her husband, my brother.”
“They’re watching us.”
“And maybe that’s why the Ghost didn’t try to kill me today.” One of them must have been following him.
She heard the certainty in Milek’s voice. He might not have seen him, but he was sure Campanelli had been there, too, close to him.
If not for their presence, Milek might have gotten shot at again. And maybe this time the assassin wouldn’t have missed. She involuntarily reached out to him, needing to touch him—needing to assure herself that he was all right—that nothing had happened to him.
“You’re really all right?”
He turned away from the monitors and focused on her, his gaze intense. “No.”
“But you said he didn’t try anything...”
“It’s you,” he said. “You’re the reason I’m not all right.”
And she realized where he’d been. “Agent Rus tried to convince you that I’m involved again?”
He didn’t deny it—just shrugged off the suspicions. Did he believe her—did he believe she hadn’t had an affair with her boss? That she hadn’t wanted the man dead until Milek had told her that Gregory had claimed to be Michael’s father?
“It’s not old rumors that have been keeping me awake every night,” he said. “It’s you...”
Her pulse quickened. Then his hand was there—on the hand she’d put on his arm when she’d needed to touch him. His thumb brushed over her pulse point, making it race.
“I thought you’ve been awake every night because you’ve been protecting us,” Amber said. She’d lain awake, too, but it was because she’d needed him.
He pointed toward those monitors. “They’re out there. I could have slept,” he said, “if every time I closed my eyes, I didn’t see you—” his silver eyes darkened with desire “—naked.”
“Milek...”
He lifted her and carried her across the living room—to the master bedroom that had been missing the master the past few nights. He was with her now, closing the door behind them. He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips sliding over hers.
She kissed him back, her lips pressing against his as she clung to his shoulders, her arms looped around his neck. So when he laid her on the bed, she tugged him down with her. His body covered hers.
She felt his holster digging into her side, and she tensed for a moment—remembering the danger. Remembering someone wanted her dead.