Midnight Shadows

MIDNIGHT SHADOWS

A Wildefire Novel

By

Ella Grace

Published by Ella Grace

Cover Art by Patricia Schmitt/Pickyme

Copyright 2015 by Christy Reece

ISBN: 978-0-9916584-4-2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at
[email protected]

Prologue

Tallahassee, Florida

Four Years Ago

 
“Come on you lowlife, scum sucking son of a slimy slug. Do something so I can go home.”

Placing her cellphone at an inconspicuous but strategic angle, Private Investigator Sabrina Wilde waited for something to happen. Would this guy ever do anything interesting? For the past six days, she had been following Harold Benoit around town, watching, waiting, and snapping more photos than she’d ever wanted of a possible cheating husband. And what did she have to show for it? Just a bunch of pictures of Harold having dinner with various women. That might prove he liked to eat at nice places and his diet was a cardiologist’s nightmare, but it certainly didn’t provide evidence that he was an unfaithful husband.

The women he’d dined with were as eclectic as they were surprising. Two had been attractive but as mistresses went, just didn’t look the type. One had been, as her Aunt Gibby might’ve said, as homely as a rutabaga, bless her heart. And one woman had been old enough to be the man’s grandmother.
 

So just what was Harold Benoit up to?

Other than his unusual dinner companions, the man’s life was boringly routine. He went to work at nine and left his office at six sharp. Twice she had followed him home, where, according to Sabrina’s client, Delores Benoit, he’d dined and slept with his wife. It was the other nights that Delores wanted to know about.
 

For several weeks Harold had been coming home late, claiming he was overloaded with work. Delores didn’t believe him. She was certain he was cheating on her and had hired Sabrina to find out with whom and provide photographic proof. So far all Sabrina had been able to prove was that he enjoyed an eclectic variety of dinner companions.

Having learned the hard way, Sabrina considered herself an excellent cheat detector. So should she continue following this guy around when she was almost certain he wasn’t having an affair? Her innate curiosity said yes. Even if Benoit wasn’t a cheating slug there was definitely something going on with him and she wanted to know more.

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

Pulling her gaze away from her subject, Sabrina gave a distracted smile to the server and ordered the first thing that came to mind. “I’ll have the grilled salmon.”

“Um…ma’am, we don’t have grilled salmon. How about tuna or swordfish?”

Neither choice sounded good to her. And she suddenly realized she was ravenous. Having scarfed down a meager breakfast of cold cereal and missing lunch, her stomach was insisting on something more substantial.

Taking the menu she hadn’t even glanced at, she hurriedly perused her choices. The spaghetti and meatballs jumped out at her. Not as healthy as grilled fish but she couldn’t resist.

She placed her order, took a sip of her iced tea, and then returned her attention back to the man three tables away from her. What she saw made her sit up straight in her chair and take definite notice. Benoit’s dining companion had finally joined him. This one didn’t just surprise her…she was stunned.

Either Benoit’s taste was even more eclectic than she had imagined or something else was definitely going on. One thing she had to admit, taking photos of this one would be no hardship at all.

The dinner companion was not just a man. He was gorgeously masculine, handsome without a hint of prettiness. Dressed in a navy pinstripe suit that had to have been tailored to fit his tall, muscular frame, the man exuded not only an air of confidence and sophistication but danger, too. She got the idea that beneath the elegant suit was a man who could handle himself in any kind of situation. And had done so many times.

His thick brown hair was slightly tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it a time or two. Or perhaps a wife or lover might have. His skin was lightly tanned. Not unusual in Florida but he didn’t look the type to spend a lot of time on the beach and definitely not in a tanning salon.
 

Since he was seated across the table from Benoit, she should be able to get a good clear view of him. Angling the phone an inch to the left, Sabrina clicked on her camera, taking multiple shots. Many more than was necessary, but so what. It was good to have a variety to choose from.

She was too far away to tell his eye color but she thought perhaps dark brown, maybe a couple shades darker than his hair. A slash of thick brows above his eyes made them look even darker. Those brows arched in reaction to something Benoit was saying to him. His cheekbones were prominent, slightly etched, as if he was of Slavic descent. The dark stubble on his face made her think of sexy pirates or maybe marauding highwaymen.
 

A shiver of excitement zipped up her spine, as surprising as it was uncharacteristic. Sabrina Wilde did not get turned on so easily. Falling into lust, especially over a stranger, was not her thing.

So distracted by her reaction, she literally jumped when a steaming plate of spaghetti and meatballs appeared in front of her.

Thanking her server with a slight smile and nod, Sabrina absentmindedly twirled spaghetti onto her fork and brought it to her mouth. She took a bite, realizing too late that she had more on the fork than she could fit in her mouth. She chewed what she could, uncomfortably aware that several strands of spaghetti hung from her mouth like tentacles. Which, of course, is exactly when the man she’d been practically drooling over looked straight at her.

Hastily dropping her gaze to her plate, Sabrina concentrated on the mass of food in her mouth, willing herself not to choke. Finally swallowing the last of it, she surreptitiously lifted her eyes again. Though he was no longer looking her way, a small, enigmatic smile played around his sensual mouth as if he was fighting an all out grin.

Great going, Sabrina. Not only did you let your surveillance target catch you spying on him, you humiliated yourself in front of the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen.

Deciding she had more than enough photos, she dug into her meal with the fullest intention of enjoying herself. So what if she had embarrassed herself. She would never see this man again after tonight.

Proud that she hadn’t weakened and checked out the man for several more bites, she rewarded herself for her remarkable self-control by looking at him again. He was alone. Benoit had apparently left and though she should probably have followed him she couldn’t work up any regret. Tomorrow, she would call her client and tell her that though her husband did indeed seem to have something clandestine going on, in Sabrina’s opinion, he wasn’t cheating.
 

The captivating stranger stayed seated at the table, seeming in no hurry to leave. He sipped on a glass of wine as he played around with his iPhone. Sabrina told herself to look away. If she didn’t, he would catch her staring at him again. But for the life of her, she couldn’t drag her gaze from him.

And then he did something so surprising, so extraordinary…so infuriating. He lifted his phone, pointed it directly at her and clicked several photos.

What the hell?

Ian Mackenzie couldn’t resist taking the shots. The instant he’d come into the restaurant, he had noticed the blonde in the corner. Not only was she stunning with her short cropped white-blonde hair, creamy magnolia skin, and light green eyes, she was focused entirely on him.
 

Hard for a man to ignore a beautiful woman who seemed as fascinated by him as he was by her. Also hard to ignore the fact that she had taken multiple photographs of him and his dinner companion.

This gig had just gotten infinitely more intriguing. When Blue Sea Industries had contacted him for this job, he’d been tempted to turn it down. Not because corporate espionage wasn’t interesting but because he already had three other cases that were equally as interesting and time consuming. When they’d offered a twenty thousand dollar bonus if he completed his task within the month, he hadn’t been able to say no. With that money, along with his other cases, he should be able to hire a second full time employee.

And now this added bonus. A fascinatingly beautiful woman who was apparently quite interested in Harold Benoit, too. He discounted the idea that she was here to see Ian specifically. The woman had been here when he arrived. Plus Ian hadn’t known until an hour before his appointment time where he would be meeting Benoit for dinner.

No, she was definitely here for Benoit. Question was, why? And more importantly, just who was she?

Taking one last sip of his Merlot, Ian grabbed his phone and stood. Withdrawing his wallet, he threw down another twenty for the waiter. Benoit had paid for the meal, but Ian had noted the man had been decidedly stingy on the tip. Made him dislike the slimy weasel even more.

His eyes on his target, Ian moved toward the woman at a leisurely pace. When he saw her eyes widen in alarm, he couldn’t help but grin. He reached her just as her hand closed over her cellphone, the one she’d used to take numerous photographs of him.

Covering her hand on the phone with his, he said mildly, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate your photos.”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Settling into the chair across from her, he kept his hand on hers, enjoying the soft, silky skin beneath his fingers.

“Listen buster, you need to get your paw off my hand before you lose it.”

“My paw? Gee, I didn’t realize my hand was so ugly.”

Her smooth brow wrinkled with a frown. “Paws aren’t ugly and neither is your hand.”

“I have scars.”

She glanced down at his hand still holding hers. The scars weren’t that noticeable anymore, having faded over the last few years, but he’d had a few people mention them. Explaining how they came about wasn’t his favorite topic of conversation. War and his experience in the military were taboo subjects even his family honored. So why had he even mentioned the scars?

Most women who noticed them either asked what happened or politely ignored them. This woman continued to surprise him. Instead of asking questions or pretending she didn’t see them, she used her other hand to trace a scar that started on his ring finger. His suit jacket prevented her from seeing that this one extended up his arm to just above his elbow. He wished he were wearing short sleeves so she could follow it all the way up.

“Shrapnel?”