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“I’m so sorry they got pulled into this. If I thought it would help, I’d go back to Chicago.” She lifted her gaze to his. “It wouldn’t help, would it?”
“He knows I’m involved, and he’s not happy about it.” Noah scooted closer to her and placed his hand on her knee. “Count on one thing—I won’t leave your side until he’s no longer a threat.”
With a sad smile she covered his hand with hers. He couldn’t look away from her green eyes. So much hurt, so much pain, and yet a determination buried deep that she couldn’t hide. He turned his hand and squeezed hers, offering comfort.
She gnawed on her lip, her nerves showing through. He couldn’t look away. The awareness that had been flickering through him since he’d seen her again erupted. He was so close to her, if he leaned over just a bit, their lips would touch.
If he ever kissed her, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop.
Secret
Obsession
Robin Perini
Award-winning author ROBIN PERINI’s love of heart-stopping suspense and poignant romance, coupled with her adoration of high-tech weaponry and covert ops, encouraged her secret inner commando to take on the challenge of writing romantic suspense novels. Her mission’s motto: “When danger and romance collide, no heart is safe.”
Devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes adventures with a love story sure to melt their hearts, Robin won a prestigious Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award in 2011. By day she works for an advanced technology corporation, and in her spare time you might find her giving one of her many nationally acclaimed writing workshops or training in competitive small-bore-rifle silhouette shooting. Robin loves to interact with readers. You can catch her on her website, www.robinperini.com, and on several major social-networking sites, or write to her at PO Box 50472, Albuquerque, NM 87181-0472, USA.
For my readers.
Thanks for the wonderful letters telling me you loved the Bradford family from Finding Her Son. Noah’s story exists because of you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Extract
The sting of frozen rain pricked Lyssa Cafferty’s cheeks, another attack she couldn’t prevent. She hurried from the L station toward her small Chicago apartment. If only she could pull her hood over her head, duck down and avoid the piercing needles of ice on her face, but then she’d lose her peripheral vision.
She couldn’t afford to allow comfort to trump safety.
Not now. Not ever.
Instead, she tugged her thrift-store winter coat tighter around her body, the jacket too big but at least warm. She peered over one shoulder then the other, seeing only commuters huddled against the winter wind and racing down Roger’s Park streets. No one familiar.
She picked up her pace and pressed on through the blustery weather. Of course, she wouldn’t recognize the man out to kill her until she was already dead.
Two years. Two long, horrible years since the night she’d lost Jack, since she’d lost her love, her life and everything that had made the world wonderful.
She couldn’t have imagined things would get worse after Jack’s murder.
They had.
A brilliant, uncatchable psycho had made it his business to find her.
Archimedes.
Just his name made her heart stutter...with fear and fury. He’d stolen her life.
She paused two blocks from her apartment and, ignoring the cold, stilled. On high alert, her entire body tensed. She struggled to calm the rapid beat of her heart.
Some days she just prayed he’d find her and get it over with. Those were the days when the constant state of fear wore down her soul.
Most days, though, she longed to look him in the eye and kill him for what he’d done to Jack, and to her. For the precious moments she’d lost with the one thing she loved more than herself. The one secret she’d die to protect.
She refused to even let her mind go there. She couldn’t contemplate what might have been. Or what could be. Until Archimedes was brought to justice, this was her life. She had to focus on staying alive. At least for one more day.
Lyssa shifted, keeping her movements subtle, scanning each person, each darkened corner, searching for anything out of place, anyone following her. Her gaze flickered back and forth, furtive and cautious. He could be anyone, anywhere.
With each new stretch of building and street, her chest tightened in dreaded anticipation. She hurried past a couple of boarded-up storefronts and still, he wasn’t there.
For three hundred and fifty-three days he hadn’t been there.
One more day and he hadn’t found her.
She tugged her hood lower and raced through the main entrance to her building. She trudged up the stairs, acutely aware of each squeak. A baby cried in apartment 219. At the sound, Lyssa paused, her hand instinctively reaching for the brass doorknob. A wave of despair nearly propelled her to her knees. A shush and a coo, and the baby quieted.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the burning wells in the corners. She couldn’t think about the past, or her loss. She had to stay focused.
With careful placement of each step, she padded across the floor, knowing the location of each creak, a skill she worked to perfect every single day. She needed to move silently, invisibly.
Finally, she stopped in front of the small apartment the Justice Department had arranged for her. So-called