Buch lesen: «Special Ops Bodyguard»
Gage reached for her hand.
“Kate, I saw your face when you were looking at those baby pictures. That’s what you want for yourself, isn’t it? A husband, babies, a family?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she held his gaze, tears slipping free from her eyelashes and trickling down her cheek. Each tear was a sucker punch to his gut, because they confirmed what he’d known all along. Kate wanted things he couldn’t give her. How could a tormented ex-soldier, who’d seen and done things that still gave him nightmares, ever give a woman with a pure heart like Kate’s any kind of stability or happiness?
Dear Reader,
In March of last year, I had the pleasure of having dinner with Senior Editor Patience Smith (now Bloom) at a writers’ conference in Florida. One of the things we talked about was how much fun Patience had had creating Donald and Bonnie Gene Kelley, based on her own parents, for THE COLTONS OF MONTANA continuity. Later in the dinner, the conversation turned to what might be done with a new continuity. Patience was ready to move away from the Coltons for a while and was thinking of creating a new family dynasty.
“Why not use the Kelleys?” I asked, and Patience’s face brightened. Voilà! The Kelleys continuity was born.
I’ve had a terrific time working on this latest miniseries and hope you’ll enjoy Gage and Kate’s story as much as I did. Thank you to Laurie Emerson for lending her name to my story and to Lauren Murray for sharing her cat, Sinatra. Each of these ladies won the opportunity by having the high bid in the Brenda Novak Auction for Diabetes last May for their respective auction item.
Watch for more chances to share your name with a character or have your cat featured in one of my upcoming books!
Best wishes and happy reading,
Beth Cornelison
About the Author
BETH CORNELISON started writing stories as a child when she penned a tale about the adventures of her cat, Ajax. A Georgia native, she received her bachelor’s degree in public relations from the University of Georgia. After working in public relations for a little more than a year, she moved with her husband to Louisiana, where she decided to pursue her love of writing fiction.
Since that first time, Beth has written many more stories of adventure and romance suspense and has won numerous honors for her work, including a coveted Golden Heart award in romantic suspense from Romance Writers of America. She is active on the board of directors for the North Louisiana Storytellers and Authors of Romance (NOLA STARS) and loves reading, traveling, Peanuts’ Snoopy and spending downtime with her family.
She writes from her home in Louisiana, where she lives with her husband, one son and two cats who think they are people. Beth loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 5418, Bossier City, LA, 71171, USA, or visit her website at www.bethcornelison.com.
Special Ops
Bodyguard
Beth Cornelison
MILLS & BOON
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Thanks to Patience Bloom for the opportunity to
contribute to the Kelleys!
To my son, Jeffery—you make me so proud!
Chapter 1
If experience had taught Gage Prescott anything, it was that looks could be deceiving. An isolated and empty road in Afghanistan could be hiding IEDs and well-camouflaged Taliban fighters. Even on a quiet evening, an ambush and the slaughter of your team could happen in blinding seconds.
Likewise, Maple Cove, a sleepy Montana town nestled at the foot of the Absaroka Mountains in the shadow of Mount Cowen, might not be the safe escape his client was looking for. The U.S. Senator from California, Henry “Hank” Kelley, had retreated to his son Cole’s ranch just outside the idyllic-looking small town after riling his enemies and having numerous mistresses come forward alleging affairs. Hank Kelley’s life was in shambles, and the senator feared for it—which was why his son Dylan had hired Gage and another bodyguard to protect his father.
While Bart Holden, Hank’s other bodyguard, had the night shift guarding the senator, Gage had taken the opportunity to do a little reconnaissance.
He parked the ancient pickup truck he’d borrowed from the ranch hands and sent an all encompassing glance around the main street of Maple Cove. He half expected to see a whistling man and his son strolling down the street with fishing poles, à la Mayberry.
A yellow moon rose above the jagged mountains and cast an eerie glow over the red maple trees lining the main street. In the dim evening light, the fall foliage took on a blood-red cast, and images of gore and the cacophony of gunfire and agonized screams prodded his memory. His heart thundering and a fine sheen of sweat rising above his lip, Gage squeezed the steering wheel and shook off the haunting sights and sounds.
This quiet hamlet was a far cry from the barren and dangerous landscape where he’d last worked, but the chill in the October evening air burrowed into Gage’s bones and warned him all might not be as calm and safe as it seemed.
Slamming the truck door behind him, Gage headed down the sidewalk, getting a feel for the town. As he passed a small diner, the aroma of fresh baked bread and savory beef wafted out to the street, and his stomach rumbled. Deciding Ira’s Diner was a good place to start meeting the town’s citizens and scoping out potential hazards for the senator, Gage stepped inside. When the bell over the door announced his arrival, a blond waitress behind the counter looked up from the register’s cash drawer and shot him a smile filled with sunshine.
“Hello there,” the honey haired vision said, her lilting voice as bright as her smile. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right over to get your order.”
Gage arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the beautiful waitress. He wasn’t sure what sort of women he’d expected to find in the small town, but this perky blonde certainly hadn’t been on his radar. He chose a stool at the lunch counter and picked up the sticky menu to peruse the diner’s offerings.
“Howdy, stranger. What brings you to our humble town?” The blonde slid a glass of ice water in front of him and used a rag to wipe the counter.
Gage glanced up from the menu, and his breath caught in his lungs. The waitress’s wheat colored hair was streaked with gold and framed eyes as clear and blue as the Montana sky. For a moment, he could only stare, his body humming with a purely male interest he hadn’t experienced in more months than he could count.
“Sir? Everything all right?”
Her question nudged him from his daze, and he frowned, embarrassed to have been caught gawking. “Yeah, fine. I’ll, uh … have the roast beef and potatoes. Coffee. Black.”
He handed the menu back to her, and she grinned. “Good choice. The beef around here is the best you’ve ever had. Guaranteed.” She scribbled his order on a pad, then hung the sheet on the order wheel for the kitchen. “One of the advantages of living in ranching country. Prime beef.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment but kept his expression neutral. “What are the advantages if you’re a vegetarian?”
She sputtered a laugh, and the twinkle of amusement in her gaze made his pulse dance a little two-step. “Then I guess you’d have to find your pleasure in the scenic beauty and the friendly people of our fine state.”
“I agree the scenery—” he paused meaningfully and lifted one eyebrow “—here is more beautiful than I’d expected.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her lopsided grin kept her expression light. “Why, sir, are you flirting with me?”
Gage pressed his lips in a hard line just short of a scowl. “I don’t flirt, ma’am. If I were interested in you, I’d let you know. No games.”
She rocked back on her heels, and her smile faded. “Oh, I— Sorry.” She seemed inordinately rattled by his gruff response. An endearing pink tint filled her ivory cheeks, and she caught her plump bottom lip with her teeth. She was sexy innocence personified, and he felt like a first-class heel for his curt reply.
Flapping a hand toward the other end of the counter, she took a step back. “I’ll just … get your coffee.”
Gage gritted his teeth as she hurried away, leaving the scent of vanilla and cinnamon in her wake. He savored the sweet aroma and kicked himself for driving her away. What was wrong with him? Just because he was on assignment and had no business entertaining any ideas of female company didn’t mean he couldn’t be friendly. Or at least civil. People didn’t generally use the term friendly in regards to him. He didn’t do warm and fuzzy. Two tours in Afghanistan with the U.S. Army Rangers had hardened him, jaded him. His last mission had scarred him. Both physically and mentally. He found it hard to be hearts and flowers when his best friends’ blood was on his hands, and the dying moans of his Rangers team echoed in his nightmares.
Still, his lousy past wasn’t her fault, and he might need an ally in town, a resource for information about the people and politics in Maple Cove. Perhaps a better tactical move would be to enlist her help rather than keep the tempting treat at arms’ length.
She set a steaming mug in front of him but offered no smile this time. “Coffee. Black.”
“Thanks,” he grunted, and before he could form a question about the residents of the town, she’d spun away and returned to the far end of the counter.
Sighing, Gage turned his stool so he could lean back against the counter on his elbows and take in the rest of the diner. The buttery-yellow walls and high ceiling lent the otherwise dark decor a feminine touch, much the way his perky waitress had shone her light on his grim mood tonight. He angled a side glance toward her and caught her furtive glance in his direction. Jerking her gaze away, she ducked her head, blushing to her roots, and gave the counter a harder wipe.
Gage’s cheek twitched in an almost grin. She so blatantly wore her heart on her sleeve, he wanted to laugh. Her openness and lack of pretense was refreshing.
Looks could be deceiving.
He groaned internally. Always staying guarded, wary and suspicious grew tiresome, but in Gage’s world, relaxing your defenses or showing your deeper self meant leaving yourself open to attack. Weak. Vulnerable.
Near the diner’s door, an elderly gentleman scraped the last bite of pie from his plate while reading a Bozeman newspaper. “Delicious as always, Kate!” he called to the blonde, who responded with a wide grin.
A few tables away, a young couple with a whiny baby packed up their belongings and called a good night to the cook through the open kitchen door. Across the room, another waitress, also an attractive blonde, though not in the same league as Miss Sunshine, wiped tables, then sent him a curious look as she carried a tray of dirty dishes from the dining room.
“Order up, Kate,” the cook called as he slapped a plate up on the shelf under the order wheel.
Miss Sunshine scurried over, flashed the cook a bright smile, and called, “Thanks, Pete.”
She gathered a set of silverware and a napkin before she carried Gage’s dinner to him.
“Can I get you anything else?” She added a quick smile, though the light didn’t reach her eyes.
You hurt her.
He shook his head, and as she turned to leave, he said, “Business.”
She faced him, a curious crease in her brow. “Pardon?”
“You asked me earlier what brought me to town. I’m here on business. On assignment.”
Her expression warmed, clearly taking his answer as the apology he intended. Following his cue, she leaned her hip against the counter, and her smile lit with the sunshine with which she’d first greeted him. “What kind of assignment? Are you a reporter?”
He cut himself a bite of the beef and shook his head. “Security specialist.”
She blinked at him. “Which means … what?”
“I’m protecting a client.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and her cornflower eyes widened. “As in a bodyguard? Who for?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a titillated hush. “Is there a movie star in town?”
He shoved the meat in his mouth. “No. Not a movie star.” The tender beef and perfect seasoning of his dinner registered as he chewed, and he couldn’t suppress the groan of pure satisfaction.
His waitress’s grin turned smug. “Told you it was the best you’d ever have. And wait until you try my apple pie. I just took it out of the oven before you walked in here. I’ll cut you a fat slice if you’d like.”
Gage stabbed another bite. “Maybe.”
“Wait a minute.” She sent him a speculative look. “Cole Kelley’s dad is a U.S. Senator.” She tucked a handful of silky, honey blond hair behind her ear and canted toward him. “So … is it Senator Kelley? Is that who you’re protecting?”
Gage cut a glance toward her as he launched into the creamiest mashed potatoes he’d ever eaten. “You know Cole?”
Even though he avoided answering her question directly, he knew by the lift in her blond eyebrow that she’d deduced she was correct.
“Everyone in Maple Cove knows Cole. He runs the Bar Lazy K ranch. He comes in here to eat pretty regularly—especially on Thursdays when I make chocolate layer cake. Great guy. Handsome, too.”
A pinprick of jealousy jabbed Gage, though why he cared about her opinion of Cole Kelley’s looks, he couldn’t say. He wasn’t in town to get involved with any of the locals. He had a job to do, and when he finished that job, he’d leave Maple Cove. No attachments, no entanglements.
“And I understand he has a twin brother in California who’s a silent partner in the Bar Lazy K,” she added.
Gage nodded. “Dylan.”
He’d been fully briefed on the whole extended Kelley clan and their roots here in Montana. Henry’s brother Donald had started Kelley’s Cookhouse, a barbecue restaurant that had flourished and become a nationwide chain.
The other waitress bustled through the kitchen door and headed their way. “Kate, if we’re going to get out of here any time soon, you need to stop pestering the customers and get this counter in order.”
Kate. Gage made a mental note of the name the other waitress had called Miss Sunshine. He hitched his head toward the other end of the counter. “You go on. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”
Kate snorted. “She’s not my boss. She’s just bossy,” she said, loudly enough for the other woman to hear. “That’s my older sister, Janet, and I’m Kate Rogers.”
Janet sauntered over and snapped a damp dish towel at Kate’s bottom. “Who are you calling bossy, brat?”
Kate laughed, the sound as musical as wind chimes. A sweet thrill raced through Gage’s veins, and he gritted his teeth, suppressing his reaction to Kate.
Get a grip, soldier. What was it about this woman that made him wax poetical like some lame … well, poet? Sure, she was pretty and friendly and a refreshing change from the ball buster sort of women he usually met, but he had no excuse for losing his head around her.
“Janet, this is … uh, I’m sorry. I never got your name.”
“Gage Prescott.” He offered his hand to Janet, and they shook. When he would have withdrawn his hand, Janet clung to his fingers, meeting his eyes with a come-hither look that startled him. Her lack of subtlety was bad enough, but when he spotted the wedding ring on her left hand, he became distinctly uncomfortable.
“So, where are you from, handsome?” Janet asked.
“Bozeman, most recently.” Giving her a quelling look, Gage extricated his hand, but not before she had let her fingers stroke his palm as she slid her hand from his. He cut a glance to Kate, who either hadn’t noticed her sister’s behavior or chose to ignore it. “I lived all over the world while I was in the army.”
Janet’s eyes widened. “Really? Like where? Paris? Rome?”
“Uh, no. More like Baghdad, Manila, Guam.”
Janet’s expression deflated, then she shot him a horrified look. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
More than I want to think about.
Kate flushed and swatted at her sister. “That’s a terrible thing to ask!”
Janet’s reply faded to background noise as Gage flashed on the bloody Afghan road where his recon had failed to protect his team from ambush. The deaths of more than a dozen good soldiers, men he called friends, were on his head. Nausea swamped him, and a fine sheen of sweat gathered on his brow.
“So why does Senator Kelley need a bodyguard?” Kate asked, pulling him out of his haunting memory. “And what’s he doing in Maple Cove? Last I heard, there was no love lost between him and Cole.”
“I’m not at liberty to say. The senator’s relationship with his son is only my business as it relates to keeping the senior Kelley safe.”
“I saw on the news where all those women came forward claiming he’d had affairs with them.” Janet leaned forward, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “So is it true? Did he sleep with all those women? What did his wife say?”
Gage scowled. “That’s not for me to say.”
Kate scooted closer, partially wedging herself between Janet and Gage. “Please excuse my sister, Gage. She failed Tact and Manners 101 in school.” She gave her sister a meaningful look. “Don’t you have some tables to wipe or something?”
Janet’s mouth puckered as if she’d tasted something sour. “No. I’ve finished my work. Have you?”
Kate sighed her exasperation but plastered on a patient smile. “Almost.”
Straightening her shoulders, Kate offered Gage a rueful grin as she turned to gather the sugar dispensers behind the counter.
Studying the two sisters, Gage couldn’t help but notice the differences. Both were physically beautiful, yet Janet’s attitude toward her sister, her graceless flirting and untoward questions made her unattractive. Kate, on the other hand, had a glow and magnetism that shone from inside, raising her outward appearance to pure radiance. Gage found himself drawn as much to that inner warmth as to her bright blue eyes and feminine curves.
Snatching him from thoughts of her sister, Janet covered Gage’s hand with hers and leaned so far toward him, he had a clear view down her shirt. Which, he had no doubt, was her intention. “So, tell me about being a bodyguard.”
“I’d rather you ladies tell me about Maple Cove. Working here in the diner, I imagine you know most everyone.”
“True enough. What do you want to know?” Janet propped her chin on her hand and braced her elbows on the counter, as if settling in for a juicy round of gossip.
Gage sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and directing his comments as much to Kate as to her sister. “Personalities. Conflicts. Anyone in town have hard feelings toward the Kelleys?”
Janet scrunched her nose as if searching her memory for the best dirt she had on the Kelley family.
“I don’t think anyone has a beef against Cole, if that’s what you mean. He’s well-respected by the other ranchers,” Kate said. “I have heard some locals disagree with the senator’s politics, but nothing extreme. What kind of conflicts do you mean?”
“Just getting a feel for the town. Is there anyone I should be forewarned about, anyone who could be trouble?”
Janet smirked and dragged a fingernail down his chest. “Depends. What kind of trouble you looking to get in?”
The bell over the door jingled, and both Janet’s and Kate’s eyes darted toward the newcomer. Janet paled, jerking upright and stepping back from Gage, a guilty look on her face. Kate’s expression clouded and she visibly tensed.
Alerted to trouble by their reactions to the new arrival, Gage turned on the stool and spotted a wiry man in jeans, boots and a Western shirt—typical ranch-hand garb—stride into the diner with a hard glare pinned on the women. “What the hell’s going on in here?”
“Larry,” Janet gasped, flicking a nervous glance at the clock. “You’re early.”
The man glowered at Gage, then at Janet. “Seems to me I’m just in the nick of time. What were you and this clown doing, pawing each other like that?”
“I—I—”
“Nobody was pawing anyone, Larry,” Kate said.
He snapped a churlish look toward Kate. “Stay out of this! This is between me and my wife!”
Gage groaned internally. Great. A jealous husband.
Larry stalked behind the counter and grabbed Janet by the arm. “I know what I saw when I came in. Don’t lie to me!”
His muscles tensing, Gage lifted a hand, palm out. “Take it easy, pal.”
“Honest, honey. Nothing happened. I—” Janet whimpered in pain as her husband squeezed harder on her upper arm and jerked her toward the door.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you.” He started for the door, dragging Janet, who stumbled along behind him.
Gage bristled and felt a rush of heat flood his face and neck, his jaw tightening.
Kate flew around the counter after her sister. “Wait, Larry. Maybe Janet should stay here for a while.” She stepped in Larry’s path and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Just until you’ve had a chance to calm d—”
Larry planted a hand in the middle of Kate’s chest and shoved her so hard she fell backward, knocking over several chairs as she tumbled to the floor.
Gage launched off his stool and intercepted Larry at the door, blocking the irate husband’s exit. The last thing he wanted was to be distracted from his security job by domestic problems of the local residents, but he couldn’t let the jerk’s abhorrent treatment of his wife and Kate go unchallenged, either. Abusive husbands ranked somewhere just below sewage scum in his esteem.
“Outta my way, creep,” Larry growled.
“I don’t think so.” Gage crossed his arms over his chest, ready to do battle with the cretin if needed. “Not until you apologize to Kate and let go of your wife’s arm.”
Larry puffed out his chest and got in Gage’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are telling me my business with my wife?”
“Looks like I’m the guy who’s going to teach you the right way to treat women.”
Hank Kelley stared at the woman on the television screen and ground his back teeth together. Even here in Montana at his son Cole’s ranch, he couldn’t escape the endless parade of reports blasting his private life to the world. The beautiful blonde now simpering for the cameras and staring back at him from the screen had been a temptation too great to resist while he’d been vacationing in Aspen two years ago. Apparently the Colorado ski resort didn’t have the same motto of discretion that Vegas did. Not that his Vegas tryst had “stayed in Vegas” either. So far, six of his affairs had been aired for the media as one willowy blonde after another had come forward, maligning his name and driving another nail into the coffin of his marriage.
Hank rattled the ice in the highball glass he clutched, then tossed back the last gulp of Maker’s Mark. If only the women coming out of the woodwork were the worst of his problems. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Hank set the glass aside and used the remote to turn off the TV. Acid swirled in his gut as he considered the dangers that had driven him into hiding. While his mistresses took aim at his reputation, other enemies had threatened his life. Had put his family in the crosshairs.
Just days ago, someone had taken his only daughter, Lana, hostage in an attempt to win his cooperation with a nefarious plot, and his son Dylan had hired two bodyguards to babysit him around the clock. Arrangements had been made for him to come here, to the Bar Lazy K, to hide.
Hide! Like some pathetic rabbit scurrying down a hole away from a fox. He was a senator, damn it! A leader! He hated the idea of holing up in his son’s ranch like some cowering wimp. He needed to be doing something to find Lana. To get the wolves off his back. Not hiding at his son’s house, no matter how well-protected and secure the ranch was.
Hank gritted his teeth and drummed his fingers on the bedside table.
If only he’d never gone to that meeting of the Raven’s Head Society, the highly secretive assembly of powerful men who now had him by the balls, he wouldn’t be in this mess. Lana would still be safe in Europe. His career wouldn’t be on the line. He wouldn’t be constantly looking over his shoulder wondering who he could trust.
Or waiting for the media to flash breaking news that President Joe Colton had been killed and he’d been framed as the chief suspect in the murder conspiracy.
Hindsight might be twenty-twenty, but it provided no solutions—only deep regret. He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist on the bedside table. Dammit, there has to be a way to stop this juggernaut before anyone gets hurt!
Across the room, Bart Holden, his night-duty bodyguard, folded his arms over his barrel chest. “If you’re ready to call it a night, I’ll give you some privacy. If you need me, I’ll be right outside the door. Or you can use the intercom.”
Hank cast a side glance to the call button by his bed and jerked a nod. “Good night.”
One reason for coming to Cole’s ranch rather than lying low somewhere else was Cole’s elaborate security system, which Hank’s somewhat paranoid mother had installed to protect her vast wealth before selling the property to her grandsons. The entire main house had been wired with an intercom system, the wine cellar had been modified to be a panic room in case of trouble, and security cameras and an alarm system protected each outbuilding and the main house.
But being locked down in a house as secure as Fort Knox didn’t ease Hank’s mind. Lana was being held hostage. The president was in danger. And past mistakes of every sort had crept out of the shadows to ruin Hank’s career and threaten his life.
He had to find a way to stop the Raven’s Head Society. And soon.
Kate rubbed her throbbing elbow, which had taken the brunt of her fall, and held her breath as Gage squared off with Larry. This could get ugly.
She glanced toward the kitchen where Pete Greenburg, the cook, would be cleaning pots and pans in preparation for closing. Pete, who had recently celebrated his sixtieth birthday, had expressed his concern for Janet’s situation before, but also made it clear he chose to stay out of other people’s business. The cook would be of little help if a brawl erupted.
Maybe she should call the local police. Or better yet, since Larry had too many friends in the Maple Cove Police Department, she should call Wes Colton, the county sheriff. Wes had a reputation with the ranchers for being a fair and reliable lawman.
“Let. Go. Of. Her. Arm.” Gage grated through clenched teeth. His icy blue eyes lasered into Larry, and veins stood out on his linebacker neck.
Rising slowly from the floor and dusting her hands, Kate studied Gage’s glowering countenance and chiseled features. His granite expression brooked no resistance, nor did his unflinching position blocking Larry’s escape. Muscled arms, one with a barbed wire tattoo around his bicep, folded across a chest wide enough to more than fill the door.
Kate shivered. If she hadn’t seen flashes of good humor from Gage earlier, she’d swear the man was made of rock or steel. Hard. Cold. Surly.
Yet he was defending her and Janet from Larry’s rough treatment. Something no other man in Maple Cove had ever done. Larry’s buddies on the police force looked the other way every time Kate called them to help Janet. Of course, it didn’t help that Janet never pressed charges.
He didn’t mean it, Katie. I’m fine. I provoked him. He’s sorry, and he promised never to do it again.
Kate was thoroughly sick of Janet’s excuses, but what could she do if her sister refused to leave the abusive marriage? Kate would stick by Janet, her only blood relative, as long as it took.
Knowing that this rough-hewn man, this stranger who had found his way to their small town, was taking her side, seeing the situation for what it was and doing something about it, made Kate feel a certain bond with him. As though they were allies in a war.
Even if her ally was rather … brutish and gruff.
He was here, after all, to protect Hank Kelley. That meant he had to be tough. Right? But he was still a good guy. Wasn’t he?
“Move your ass,” Larry snarled, releasing Janet but not backing down from his opponent.
Gage held firm. “Apologize to Kate for shoving her and to Janet for hurting her arm.”
“Bite me.” Larry balled his fists.
The dark glare Gage nailed on Larry left a cold dread curling in Kate’s stomach. Ally or not, she decided the smart move on her part would be to avoid Gage Prescott while he was in town. She had no room in her life for brutish, grouchy men, even if she had felt a spark of attraction earlier, when he’d cracked his granite facade for an instant. She’d have sworn he was flirting with her, that he’d felt the same crackle of electricity when their eyes had met.
But what did she know about men? She’d never had more than a few dates before she’d moved to Maple Cove, and the list of available, desirable men in her new home was frighteningly short. Kate had resigned herself to being alone and celibate for the foreseeable future, because she refused to abandon her sister. Somehow she had to save Janet from her bad marriage and poor choices.
A muscle in Gage’s square jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. “Apologize to the ladies. Or we’ll still be standing here at breakfast tomorrow morning.”
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