Finding Me (5 page)

With a simple twist, he found the door unlocked and reached for the concealed weapon, now warmed by his flesh. Though no one could be seen inside of the main living area of the cabin, Mac heard a sound. Motors – a whirring noise. Familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what the source of it might be coming from.

Content to believe that no assassins hid in the kitchen or the sitting area, he turned right and headed for the closed door. Again, he made a silent entrance into the room; a bedroom with an enormous king sized bed, just like he asked for. As a man standing at six feet, six inches, the usual beds simply wouldn’t do. How he could hardly wait to sink into its comfort after driving for nearly fifteen hours straight…

Something caught his eye and Mac dropped noiselessly to the floor with the gun in his hands. A large whirlpool tub to the left, sitting in the corner of the room next to floor-length uncovered windows was swirling away. He noticed it from the outside of the house but what he didn’t see from the outside was the empty wine glass sitting on the wooden step or the tuft of brown hair hanging over the edge.

Using stealth afforded to him from years of tactical training, Mackenzie edged nearer to assess the threat. When he reached the steps, he knelt and pushed himself up slowly, powerful thighs, raising him evenly and without pause or strain. Creamy pale skin poked out from the rapids in the tub – belonging to a woman. His eyes widened as the swell of her cleavage was jostled by the streams of water. Though she had the appearance of an angel and not that of a hired hit-man – or rather,
woman
– Mac knew better.

After a moment’s thought, he settled himself on the edge of the tub and held the muzzle less than an inch from her temple. “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in my cabin?”

Her eyes flashed open and pink lips formed a surprised ‘O’. She did not speak, nor scream when she saw the gun. Every inch of her body became rigid but seconds later, began to tremble.

Mac repeated himself, barking the words. “Who are you?”

“H-Han-nah M-Mag-nus,” she stammered.

The woman seemed genuinely terrified, but he had seen something all too similar to this once before. Allowed himself to be duped by a doe-eyed female. Never again. “Hannah Magnus. Do you have any identification to prove your claim?”

Hannah took a sharp intake of breath. “P-purse, b-by the b-bed.”

Throwing his gaze over, he saw the black leather bag and the corner of a leather wallet sticking out. “Don’t move,” he warned, moving slowly towards it. Mac grabbed the entire bag and brought it back to the side of the tub. Inside of the wallet, he found all of the usual forms of identification. Twenty-six, just had her birthday a few months ago. Canadian, he found her passport in the bag too. But all of this could easily be falsified. “Who sent you?”

Continuing to stare at him dumbly, she opened her mouth as confusion filled her gaze. “I don’t understand…this is my…my rental. I mean, I…”

“Are you trying to tell me that you rented
this
cabin?” Mac looked at her disbelievingly, taking quick peeks every few seconds to her breasts, slightly hidden by the water. Hannah was too frightened to cover them and hell, he was only human after all.

~~~~~

Sneak preview of:

Book II in the

Captive Hearts Series:

Intimate Strangers

With evil lurking on every corner, can two veritable strangers survive on love alone?

Chelsea Reid shares one sinful night with a delicious stranger and she winds up pregnant. Disowned by her parents and forced to leave university, she accepts an offer from her boss, Hannah Magnus-Dunlop, to stay with her and her family.

Christiaan ‘Tiaan’ Carstens had everything going for him. In the blink of an eye, he lost it all, including most of his mind, tortured in an American run facility because he didn’t die when a rogue politician wanted him to. His former colleague Mackenzie Dunlop extended an open invitation to come back and visit him in Vancouver. The very last thing Tiaan expects to see up north is sweet Chelsea - and his infant son.

The memories of that one magical night they spent together acting as the glue that holds him together, Tiaan attempts to string the rest of the pieces of his life into some form of semblance, while trying to figure out if Chelsea even wants him in her life.

Excerpt:

Using her hand as a visor from the sun, Chelsea continued searching for a man who matched the description Mackenzie gave her. A tall guy was approaching her and for a moment, panic filled her. No, it couldn’t be. That man looked an awful lot like–

“I take it you are here to pick me up?”

Son of a…gun…

Swallowing down the urge to heave up her lunch, Chelsea gripped the fabric of her floral tunic, clutching it to her stomach. Of all the people she could have been picking up from the airport today, it had to be
him
. ‘South African elevator guy’, as she had come to call him. At least now he had a name.

“Erm, I haven’t gotten it wrong, have I? Or, are you waiting for someone else with the name Carstens?” His dark eyes searched hers through her sunglasses.

He doesn’t even recognize me
. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Of course he wouldn’t, why would he? She was probably just another girl he had a one-time thing with. A long list of countless sexual partners. Chelsea felt sick to her stomach.

“Hello?”

Sweet Mother. She’d just been standing there while he asked her questions. “Uh, n-no, you’re Christiaan, right?”

The corners of his mouth pulled back, a mouth that had been on parts of her body that were covered with clothing at the moment. “I am, but I go by Tiaan. Looks like we’ve settled that mystery. Now, where are you parked?”

She couldn’t look at him anymore. Too many emotions tore through her and she had to think of alternate living arrangements now. If Tiaan, as he finally announced, was staying with Mac and Hannah for an undisclosed amount of time, no way in hell could Chelsea continue living there too.

“This way.” She didn’t check to see if he followed as she crossed the street and entered the parking structure.

When they reached her car, Chelsea’s stomach turned over, realizing there was a car seat in the back. Surely he’d notice it and wonder?
No
, she scolded herself,
he doesn’t even remember so stop worrying
. Besides, Mac and Hannah had Erik so he would probably think the car seat belonged to them. She popped the trunk and he stowed his luggage away, then they both climbed into her small and old, yet reliable vehicle.

“Why do I get the strange feeling that you and I have met before?”

Because you and I spent the most incredible two hours in an elevator, and then the night in your hotel room
, her mind screamed to announce. Those precious hours meant everything to her and Chelsea drew on her memories of that magical night during the past year. Now they were ruined, a beautiful painting on a canvas that someone vandalized with splattered random blobs of colour. She decided then and there never to dwell on that night ever again, no matter how much her heart wished it.

“I uh, I guess I have one of those faces,” Chelsea replied with a shrug, pulling onto the highway.

The drive back to Mac and Hannah’s felt like it took days instead of just half an hour. As soon as she pulled into the driveway, Chelsea popped the trunk and ran inside, leaving Tiaan to his own devices. She fled past a stunned Mac holding Erik, rushing up the stairs of the newer part of the house to her bedroom. It was dark and silent when she entered, save for the gentle hum of her two month old son’s breathing.

How many times had she dreamed of finding the man from the elevator and telling him about his child?
Their
child.

If only he had called her…

No dwelling on it!

Thanks to Hannah, she had a lot of stuff to pack. The suitcase from her closet would carry most of her own stuff which she started shoving into it, but all of Ruan’s things, that meant another trip or two. At least. Then there was the crib, and she had to find a place to go.

A deluge of hot, stinging tears dripped down her face. Everything had been going so well for her here. She had an amazing job where she could bring Ruan every day, a place to live and a great support system. With the arrival of one man, everything came crashing down around her.

“Chelsea, is everything okay? Hey, what’s up with the suitcase?”

She froze at the sound of Mac’s voice, a deep and soft growl from the doorway. Ruan woke, sending a piercing cry through the room and she welcomed the distraction so as not to have to answer his question.

“Jesus, man! Did you and Hannah have a second child already?” the South African man chuckled as he stepped through the doorway. “Come to Uncle Tiaan then.”

Chelsea held Ruan to her chest, backing up to the wall behind her.

“He’s not ours,” Mac offered with a laugh. “Ruan belongs to Chelsea.”

“Chelsea…Chelsea…” Tiaan spoke her name as if testing it on his tongue. “Chelsea?” The third time he said it, he sounded confused and she watched his eyes furiously snap from her, to Ruan and back again. “Son of a…”

At least they were on the same page now.

~~~

Mind reeling, Tiaan stumbled backwards while the memory and this rather unexpected news assaulted him. That same memory was the one he called on during each interrogation to deliver him from the agony of torture. Now it was tainted, ruined.

“Uh… Am I missing something?” Mac shifted his weight and moved Erik to his other hip.

“Hmm. I believe I need a moment alone with Chelsea, if you don’t mind.”

After a moment’s silence, Mac acquiesced. “Call if you need anything.”

Once they were alone, his anger exploded. “Why did you not tell me that I had a bloody child?”

Her expression matched his, viciously irate. “Tell you?
Tell you?
I didn’t even know your damned name until I picked got you from the airport today! And don’t you
dare
chastise me here. I left you my number and you never called!” She backed into the far corner to sit on the bed, bouncing Ruan – his
son
for Christ’s sakes – in a gentle motion. “I went through all of this alone, with Hannah and Mac’s help.”

She left her number? Tiaan thought back to the morning after, when he’d reached for that voluptuous woman he spent the night with, only to find a cold and empty space in the hotel room bed. Seconds later his phone rang and he had to leave on a mission straight away. If she did leave her phone number for him, he mustn’t have seen it in his haste to pack and get on the next flight out to San Diego.

Too late to make amends on that note now, he crossed the distance between them and dropped onto her single bed. He could have sworn he’d told her his name, but then again, they hadn’t done much talking that night. Then a thought crossed his mind. If she was so quick to jump into a man’s bed, one whose name she did not even know, this baby could belong to someone else. There was one way to find out.

“I want a paternity test done.”

Recoiling as if struck, Chelsea moved to the changing table, making sure to keep an eye on Ruan. Bloody hell, she’d even gone as far as to find an Afrikaans name for the baby. He observed her as she gently removed the soiled diaper – a cloth one, ne noted – and cleaned the baby up before putting a fresh one on.

“I have no need or want of anything from you. I certainly don’t want your money. And no one is sticking a needle in my son. So whatever reason you have for demanding such a ridiculous thing, it’s unjustified and unwanted.” Her voice carried a hard edge to it, as if she had just this minute constructed an impenetrable wall around herself.

Tiaan opened his mouth to reply, though he didn’t quite know what to say, and was saved by Mac slipping into the room. Thank God for the man. Hopefully he would have a bit of advice on this particularly distressing situation. Just before he met Hannah, Mackenzie found out that he’d had a daughter for years and years. Kayla turned fifteen a few months ago.