Fatal Deception (16 page)

She glanced over her shoulder again and was relieved to see that no one was following them. Turning to Porter, she said, “Explain how you knew I was at Orlando Salas’s house.” She figured she probably should have asked nicely, not demanded an answer, but right now she felt as if her insides were actually shaking.

He shot her a sharp glance that put her on edge, but at the same time made something annoyingly feminine inside her flare to life. Without even trying the man exuded a raw sexuality that made her abdomen clench with need each time she saw him. Or thought about him. Lately that was too often.

“I put a GPS tracker in your car a couple weeks ago,” he said quietly.

It took a moment for his words to register. She shook her head, sure she’d misheard. “
What?
”

He shrugged and made another left turn. “It was the only way I knew to keep you safe.”

“Safe? What… Do you realize how crazy this sounds? You put a
tracker
in my car!” The tiny voice in the back of her head told her to shut up and be grateful he had considering what had just happened.

His sharp features never changed as he pulled up behind an SUV parked by the curb. He fished out a set of keys and handed them to her. “I want you to drive my vehicle and I’ll follow you back to your place.”

She sputtered and stared at his outstretched hand.

“Lizzy, please. I’ll answer all your questions once we get out of here.”

His use of her nickname took her off guard. He rarely called her Lizzy. The first time had been right before he’d pushed her up against a wall and kissed her until she was breathless and panting for more. They’d dated for roughly a month after that kiss and since their very brief relationship ended, she’d been nothing but ‘Elizabeth’ to him.

She mentally shook herself. Now wasn’t the time to argue with him. The part of her that wanted to get as far away from Orlando Salas’s house as possible knew that. She snatched the keys from his hand and hurried to his SUV. She might have a lot of questions for Porter, but more than anything she was simply grateful for his presence. If not for him, she’d probably be dead right now. Or worse. After what had just happened, energy hummed through her and she could actually feel her adrenaline high starting to crash. If he hadn’t shown up when he had…Lizzy shivered and a cold sweat blossomed across her forehead. She couldn’t think about that right now.

Danger Next Door
Red Stone Security Series, Book 2
Copyright © 2012 Katie Reus

Grant opened his eyes at the sound of his cell phone buzzing across the nightstand. The insistent hum was going to drive him insane. Grabbing it, he looked at the caller ID then shoved the phone under his pillow.

It was Porter. Again.

He loved his oldest brother—okay, his whole family, but he wished they’d leave him the hell alone. If he decided to take the job at Red Stone Security and work with both his brothers and father he’d do it when he was damn well good and ready.

And not a minute sooner.

He rolled onto his side, ignoring the stiffness in his shoulders. Right now he was just trying to keep it together. After leaving the Miami Police Department he felt lost for the first time in his life. Not something he was used to. Right out of high school he’d joined the Marines just like his big brother had done. Four years later after an honorable discharge he’d joined the Miami PD. His first two years as a rookie he’d gone to night school while working as a patrolman. When he’d made SWAT he’d spent the next two years finishing up with his Bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice. And for the last two he’d been working as a detective and he loved it.

Well,
had
loved it.

Now he was on temporary disability and trying to figure out what he was doing with his life. Half a year ago things had been so clear. He’d had his entire life mapped out. Now, not so much.

Forcing himself to get out of bed and to stop the fucking pity party he was about to have, he took a quick shower and didn’t bother looking in the mirror before or after. Seeing his scars only reminded him of what a deformed monster he was. No thanks. He thought about it enough and didn’t need the visual aids.

Making his way to the kitchen he avoided glancing at picture frames dotting his hallway walls or anywhere else. They were all filled with pictures of his happy smiling family. His brother Porter and fiancé Lizzy. Or his brother Harrison and gorgeous wife Mara. Or his brothers, father and Grant,
before
the accident.

When he’d been a normal guy. Not Hollywood handsome, but good looking enough to get laid on a regular basis. Now…fuck, he hated the bitterness welling up inside him.

He was alive and had a great family. He’d get over it. Just not today. As he started making a pot of coffee he glanced out his kitchen window and into his neighbor’s window and froze.

He had the perfect view of his new neighbor. She was beautiful. Scratch that. The word didn’t even come close to describing her. There’d been moving guys in and out of the two-story house all day yesterday but he’d had no clue who was actually moving in. Holy shit, if
that
was her he’d probably scare the hell out of her the first time she saw him. Gorgeous women like her did not associate with someone like him. It would only make her self-conscious or worse—pity him.

But she wasn’t even aware of his presence so he could drink in his fill right now. Even if he did feel a little like a peeping Tom.

She didn’t seem very tall, though it was hard to measure. Her dark wavy hair cascaded down over her shoulders, reaching just below her breasts. Very full breasts. Definitely enough to fill his palms. And the tight tank top she was wearing left very little to the imagination. It was obvious she’d just woken up as she rubbed a hand over her face and reached for the coffee pot.

Look away
, he ordered himself.

But he was rooted to the spot. There was a lot of natural light shining into her kitchen from the windows at the back of her house. He couldn’t see the other windows from his angle, but he’d been inside the house before his former elderly neighbors moved out, and it was bathing her like she was some sort of goddess.

Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head and showed off a nice expanse of toned, tanned belly and—yep, he was walking away now.

Before he really did turn into some sort of pervert. Time to work out and do his leg exercises and
not
think about the beauty next door. He’d never walk completely normally again but damned if he wouldn’t get close. After completely blowing his knee out when he’d tackled that kid, he’d since had two surgeries. Now there was nothing more doctors could do. He had pins in his knee and he just had to work on getting used to using all his muscles again. Spending time gawking at his neighbor wasn’t going to do him any good.

A couple hours later he’d worked out his upper body and had spent some serious time on the treadmill. Sure he wasn’t jogging, but he wasn’t slowly walking anymore either. Knowing when he’d pushed himself to the limit he changed into his bathing suit and found relief as he descended the steps to his swimming pool.

Immediately the pressure on his leg eased, giving him that weightless relief. Floating on his back, he savored the way his muscles pulled and stretched as he slowly did the backstroke. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but the sun was high and bright in a cloudless sky. Since it was April there was a cool breeze but spring in Florida was more like early summer than anything. As he glided through the water he paused at the sound of shouting.

Lifting his head out of the pool, his feet touched the cement in the shallow end. A raised male voice came from the direction of next door. Then the sound of a distressed female voice—with a healthy dose of panic.

Hell no.

Not caring enough to stop and cover up he got out of the water. The voices grew even louder. Cursing his limp, he yanked open the door to his privacy fence, then tried his neighbor’s. It easily swung open.

For a moment Grant saw red at the scene in front of him. A tall, lean dark-haired man with an olive complexion had his hands wrapped around the upper arms of the woman he’d seen this morning through the window. The woman was struggling against him, her hand on the middle of the man’s chest. The bastard only tightened his grip.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Grant boomed, his voice just a notch short of shouting.

The two people froze. When the man looked over his shoulder at Grant his hands immediately dropped, though his expression was hostile. “Who are you?”

“I live next door,” he said, lowering his voice this time. “And you didn’t answer me.”

Relief flicked in the woman’s green eyes as she took a not-so-subtle step back from the man, rubbing her upper arms where the imprint of the man’s fingers stood out on her smooth skin.

“This is a private matter,” the man said, his dark eyes flashing with annoyance.

Grant ignored him as he focused on the clearly frightened gorgeous woman. “Is this man your boyfriend or family member?” Not that Grant really cared because this asshole was leaving no matter what. He just wanted to know what type of situation he was dealing with.

The woman snorted, taking him by surprise. “No. And he was just leaving.”

The man swiveled back to her and took a step forward. “Damn it—”

Grant had moved across the few yards before he’d realized it. The man was about an inch taller than him, putting him at six foot three. But he was lean and a little lanky and even with Grant’s bad leg he had no doubt he could flatten him. Hand to hand combat was his specialty and something told him that a guy who didn’t have a problem roughing up a woman would be a complete pussy up against a man.

Something about Grant’s expression must have conveyed he was ready to take him down because the guy lifted his hands and took a small step back, nearly tripping over his feet. “This was just a misunderstanding.”

“The lady told you to leave.” There was an edge to Grant’s voice.

The man shot an angry look at the woman but hurried toward the gate. Once he reached it he said, “This isn’t over,” as he practically sprinted away.

Staying where he was, Grant ran his gaze over the woman. He tried to keep it clinical, but it was difficult. Petite but curvy, the brunette had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Now that he was seeing her up close he realized she likely had Mediterranean heritage. Her skin was a smooth, olive complexion similar to the man who’d just left. But her face was incredibly pale, almost ashen.

Not wanting to scare her, he stayed immobile even though something deep inside him told him to gather her in his arms and comfort her. Yeah, he was sure that would go over real well.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m Grant Caldwell. I live next door. Are you okay?”

She opened her mouth, those full lips parting—making him think thoughts he had no business thinking—but just as quickly she shut it as she shook her head. That was when he realized her entire body was shaking.

Shit.

“Did he hurt you?” he growled, ready to go after the guy.

She shook her head again.

As a detective—
former
detective—he’d dealt with plenty of victims before. Not that he was even certain she was one, but he didn’t like seeing any female in distress.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” He motioned to one of the cushioned patio chairs underneath the porch overhang.

Nodding, she collapsed onto one of them. Aware that he was dripping wet, but not wanting to hover and freak her out further, he sat on the edge of the one next to her. “Do I need to call someone or—”

“No. God, no. Sorry, I’m not normally so…at a loss for words. That was Paulos and long, annoying story short, he’s a giant ass. He’s the son of my parent’s friends, the Balis’s and…you so don’t need to hear my entire life story.” She let out a long breath as she focused those emerald green eyes on him. “I promise to be a drama-free neighbor. I know this is an awful first impression.” She smiled self-deprecatingly and he sucked in a quiet breath.

The woman should
not
be allowed to smile. It made her…stunning. In his foggy brain he groped for words, realizing he needed to respond. “What just happened was clearly not your fault. I’m with—was with the Miami PD and it looked like that guy was manhandling you.”

“I know. I’m not even going to deny it, but I can’t deal with him right now and I don’t want to make an issue of it. He surprised me and it won’t happen again and…God, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Belle Manikas. Thanks for coming to my rescue even though I have a feeling that right now you’re trying to think of a polite way to get the hell out of here and away from the crazy neighbor.”

Grant couldn’t help it. A bark of laughter escaped as she rambled. He could listen to this woman talk all day. “No, I’m not.” He glanced over his shoulder to the gate, thinking about the guy Paulos.

“He won’t be back. Not today anyway. Trust me,” she said quietly.

He wanted to grill her, but knew this wasn’t the time or place. Whoever that guy was wouldn’t be bothering her again if Grant had anything to say about it. But he needed to get more info from her and he had to be subtle about it. “Listen, I was about to turn on the grill and cook some burgers in the backyard for an early lunch. Want to meet me in about twenty minutes?” Not wanting to leave her alone but not wanting to sit around with his scarred body visible for much longer, Grant tossed the invitation out there.