Hunting April (11 page)

"Y-y-you stayed for me? B-b-but why?" She morphed from startled to confused.

He shrugged. "Curiosity, at first. I couldn't sort out what you found attractive about the wanker. But there you were, a knock-out gorgeous woman, sexy but sweet, young and fresh, smart as a whip. Too good for a brute like Martone. Guys like him do arm candy. Escorts. Hookers. You outclassed Martone."

April hopped off the table, spun to face him. "Why are you saying this? I'm nothing like that, none of those things. Angelo didn't want me. I disgusted him. He said he made a huge mistake. He didn't want me at all. Neither did—" She looked away, trembling with suppressed rage.

"
Shh
. It's all right." Daniel drew her in until she stood between his heavily muscled thighs. He placed his big hands on her hips, pulled her closer, trained his smoldering gray eyes on her face."Listen to me. Everything I said
is
true. You do have all those qualities. And more. Believe it."

April was sorely tempted to melt into his embrace. He kissed her, gently, his mouth moving from her lips to her neck, to the valley between her breasts.
Is he sniffing
me? Again? Jeez, what's with these guys?

Apparently satisfied, his mouth returned to hers. After one more soft kiss, he guided her back a step with hands to her shoulders.

"I will never hurt you, nor turn you away. Not ever. Remember it."

Well, that's the third promise out of three. I must be a winner
. She kept the tally to herself.

* * * * *

April had no wish to deal with either of her protectors. She left Daniel prowling outdoors, and Glennon was apparently still beating the shit out of the punching bag in the huge training center at the basement level.

She showered, then took the opportunity to roam through the lodge. Artistically, she appreciated the talent and deliberation that had gone into the classic architecture, into the clean design. The decorating was beyond reproach. Masculine, but totally sophisticated, definitely not man-cave décor.

On the gallery level, she peeked into the other bedrooms, then turned into the communications center.
Holy Star Wars, Batman! Look at this stuff.
Fairly computer savvy herself, many of the components left her totally clueless.

She checked out a wall-to-wall shelving unit that resembled a computer store sales rack.
Ahh, here we go, just what the doctor ordered
. Black marker on duct-tape identified the contents of a clear plastic, shoebox-sized container. BURN PHONES.
Well,
that's high tech labeling
. She slid the box off the shelf.
Disposable phones are safe to use.

Untraceable. Everyone knows that
.

* * * * *

"Mom?"

"April, oh dear God in heaven, where are you? Are you safe? Are you all right?

Angelo wouldn't call you to the phone, has been making the weakest excuses. Does he think we're idiots? And that damned bullshit about being on the French Riviera. You couldn't be out or unavailable all the time. Your cell phone goes directly to voicemail.

You don't call back. Your father and I have been out of our minds with worry. You don't know how lucky you are. I was giving you one more damned day before I hopped the next eastbound flight. What's going on, young lady?"

Whoa, she never curses! I'm really up shit's creek.
"Mom, calm down. I'm all right.

Really. Angelo and I . . . well . . . we're not together. I . . . uh . . . left him."

"Thank goodness. The man is a demented control freak. He's a beast. Darling, are you all right? Has he hurt you?"

"Yeah, honest, I'm okay. I'm staying with . . . a . . . friend."
Sounds better than
telling my mother I've gone to ground with two men I don't know. Sounds better than admitting
to Mom that my fiancée planned to julienne her only daughter
's
flesh just for shits-n-giggles.

"Friend?
Which
friend? April Alicia, where are you?"

Uh oh, she's really torqued
. "Mom, it's too long to get into right now, but I'm safe, really."

"Don't make me ask again, young lady."

"All right, but you can't tell a single soul. Not even Dad. You know how he blabs to one and all. Even the customers. Everyone's his friend. Mom, ya gotta swear not to tell anyone."

"
April
. . . ."

April took a deep breath.
What could it hurt to let Mom know? The burn phone is safe
enough. Then she won't worry so much
."Okay, fine. I'm in a little backwoods town in Maine. Catamount Lake. There's a beautiful . . . um . . . resort up here, called Sanctuary.

See, so I'm safe. I'll stay here until we can . . . I can . . . sort things out. Then I'm coming home, I promise. I still have the money you gave me, so I'm in good shape."
Most of the
money, anyway
.

"April, what in heaven's name are you doing in Maine? Why didn't you just fly home? Why won't you tell me what's really going on? And who is
we
?"

"Mom, please. Trust me. Okay? I'm safe. Honest."

"
April
. . . ."

Betcha I've been on the phone too long
. "Mom, look, I gotta go. Don't worry. I'll call back when I can. I love you and Dad
so
much . . . ." Her throat constricted. She flipped the phone closed before she broke down into sobs.

* * * * *

Yes, burn phones are safe enough.
Martone smirked to himself.
But it doesn't fucking
matter when my West Coast boys are sitting in the trees outside of mommy and daddy's house,
pointing a listening device with a fancy parabolic dish able to locate voices from three hundred
yards away. I only buy the best.

He set down his cigar and brandy. It had been a no-brainer to wait until the stupid hick town bitch became desperate enough to call the family farm. His own burn phone
beep-beep-beeped
as he punched in a number.
You're dead meat, my dear
.

* * * * *

Tuesday evening

A cloud of silence overshadowed dinner, making April uncomfortable; she noticed the men were edgy. Glennon had cooked. April washed up. Daniel headed out to make the last outdoor rounds for the night. Glennon avoided even the most casual glance in April's direction during dinner, then climbed the stairs to the com center for a final sweep of the intel systems before turning in.

April chose a suspense novel from the main floor library. She slid into bed, opened the book. She couldn't concentrate, so the words continued to run together.

Daniel's words, however, circled inside her brain. Clicking off the bedside light, she tried to settle.

If asked, she would deny it—but she
had
noticed Daniel Wyndsor at Martone's home. Immediately. Before her parents boarded the jet bound for California. Before she was delivered straight to Angelo's estate from the airport by a pair of goonies. Before Daniel ferried her to the bookstore and back.

The bodyguard had exuded an aura of prime male animal, quiet but confident.

His voice was deep, with a touch of Scotland. The few words he spoke were articulate, well chosen. He never acted untoward or unprofessional, but she could feel his eyes follow her closely from behind mirrored sunglasses. His notice felt personal. Intimate.

Her skin prickled whenever he came near, the little hairs on the back of her neck quivered. The question in her mind: was she apprehensive because he was big, tough, and intimidating, or was she afraid of the tempting, sensual awareness packaged in his sculpted, rock-hard body?

After Angelo warped into Psychotic Man, she'd wondered how a man like Daniel could tolerate working for such a freak.
I guess I have my answer now, don't I?

April put her book aside, took stock of what had passed for her love life for years.

When she was a lanky, little kid, tanned the color of an acorn top, with sun-streaked highlights in her auburn hair, her dad had built her a tree house. Not just any tree house, but the best, most marvelous, awesome, outstanding tree house in the whole world. It resembled more of a Habitrail for kids rather than hamsters, and it had been the hit of the neighborhood. Her dad had done all the carpentry; her mom added the curtains, cushions, and child-sized furniture.

Because of the awesome tree house, all the children converged at the Halls' farm.

It didn't occur to April until years later that her parents had been brilliant. Since the tree house was the anchor for the entire mob of kids and all their games of make believe, her parents always knew where she was, and who her friends were. Actually, all the parents knew where their kids where.
Damn, Mom, Dad, that was brilliant, indeed.

As the kids grew into teenagers, the tree house became more of a clubhouse than a play house. With more than one room in the structure and lots of corners, the teens began to pair off. They bravely snatched kisses, tentatively groped and fondled each other.

Kyle was a lean, handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed boy from a few farms over; he and April developed quite the summer crush on each other. The scope of the kissing and fondling increased, but fell short of doing
it
, of doing the real thing.

The first time April disobeyed her parents was also the last time. Hormones raged in the fifteen-year-olds, and she finally agreed to sneak out of her bed and meet Kyle in the tree house at midnight. The autumn night was breezy and perfect, and a giant harvest moon hung full and heavy in the sky.

April had been brazen. She'd worn her best baby doll pajamas, nothing more than a frilly top and bikini panties. Pajamas that were never meant to be seen outside of her bedroom. After the first few kisses, nature took over. Before she knew it, her baby dolls and Kyle's jeans and T-shirt were tossed in a pile in the corner of the little room, and Kyle had mounted her.

Even though they were both farms kids and technically knew how the sex act worked, neither was ready for the reality. She and Kyle made it back safely to their rooms. They both lost their virginity, but it had been an even trade-up for fear. It wasn't until the next day that the possible ramifications of their act hit home. For the next couple of weeks, they sweated bullets, waiting to discover whether she was pregnant.

April cried with relief when she was not. She was sure he did the same, but in the privacy of his own room.

Their hot romance diminished, and Kyle quietly moved on.

After that scare, it was several years before April stepped once again into the sexual arena—older, wiser, prepared. She listened to her friends coo and giggle about their boyfriends, she read popular girly magazines and books, even managed to watch a few porn movies with those giggling friends. Maybe because her first encounter had seriously scared the shit out of her, sex didn't hold the mystery, interest, or passion that she thought it probably should.

The book fell to the floor as April drifted into fitful sleep. A kaleidoscope of images twirled behind her eyelids. Images of a darkly handsome man, ever watchful.

Her defender. The position she thought Glennon wanted to fill.
Which shows how little I
know about men.
Glennon's insistence that the problem wasn't with her didn't ring true.

He was probably simply being kind to the poor pitiful homeless girl
.

Then again, if she had been so attracted to Glennon, why did her body tingle when Daniel was near? She didn't have much in the way of solid experience in these matters. Of course, her senses had been on overload for more days than she could count. Her decision-making capabilities couldn't exactly be considered trustworthy, at the moment. The dream spiraled into another dimension.

Wednesday, early hours

She was running the par course trail, hard and fast. Naked. Barefoot. Glennon followed,
called for her to slow down, to wait. His entreaties lent speed to her feet. But when she turned
back, it was Daniel the dark, not Glennon the golden
.
And he was gaining on her.
In the dream, Daniel's eyes glowed like a predatory beast in the half-light of her shadowy world. His big body bounded as smoothly, as sleekly as a panther, his muscles shiny with sweat and outlined in the strengthening moonlight.

April awoke with a start. She gasped; her heart pounded, her breathing ragged, both hands trapped between her thighs.

This is nuts! Pull yourself together, dimwit. You're balancing at the end of the world—

beyond here, there be dragons. There's no place to go, you can't get away. You scurried from
Glennon like a frightened rabbit, and look where
that
got you.

With a whispered curse, April stripped off her tank top and sleep shorts. She brushed her teeth and hair, spritzed on a light scent, then wrapped herself in a filmy, revealing dressing gown she'd found in the wardrobe of the bedroom next door.

Quick, quick, quick, before you chicken out
.

She slipped out of her room, paused at the balcony railing. Her hands touched, then caressed, the smoothed, polished wood. She breathed in the peace, the serenity of the lodge. Moonlight illuminated the great room and the gallery, like Nature's own chandelier.

Although the sprawling California ranch house of her youth wasn't anywhere near as grand as the lodge, her father had built their home with his own two hands, using only native woods harvested from their vast acreage.

April had listened, enthralled, whenever her mother told the story of the love that was bound like a spell to each and every piece of wood in the house.
Maybe
traveling across the country to one of the busiest, one of the most impersonal, cities in the world
wasn't the right thing for me. Maybe I need the protection of the trees and the grass and the rich
earth of my home, to become bound with nature once again. Or, maybe somewhere like where-the–hell-is-Catamount-Lake, Maine.

Her heart fluttered as swiftly as hummingbirds' wings, as she hesitated at Daniel's door. Before she could muster the courage to knock—or to flee—she heard his deep voice.