knows something and she’s just playing games.
He swept closer, loomed over her, grabbed a handful of her hair. With a swift jerk, he tugged her head back, exposing the exquisite, smooth column of her neck.
“You haven’t answered my question. Stop playing around. What do you know about my brother? Tell me quick, love, or I’ll break that pretty neck of yours.”
Maggie blinked. “Let go of my hair.” She said it in a steady voice, though he could feel her trembling.
Without warning, a heated tingle traveled from her silky hair into his fingers and right up his arm. He released her involuntarily and rubbed his hands together to quiet the electric jolt he’d experienced.
“Your brother?” she asked, acting as if nothing happened when he released her. “I’m not sure. I mean…what’s your brother’s name?”
Outside the filthy window, winter storm clouds covered the moon. Colin’s heart clouded over, too, with a gut instinct about what this eccentric beauty would say. For months now, he’d been feeling that the worst had happened. But he needed to hear the words.
“His name is John Fairfax,” Colin managed to say in a strangled voice. “And if you know anything about his whereabouts, you had better speak up.”
She looked thoughtful. “That could be it, I guess. The man’s name was John. But the last name was Sheridan.” She paused. “What’s your full name?”
Suddenly furious with her for answering questions with more questions, he growled, “Sir Colin Fairfax, Baron Derwent. Also referred to recently as Major Colin Fairfax of the Third Royal Tank Regiment, Her Majesty’s British Army, retired. Look, skip over any other questions that may pop into that lovely head of yours and get to the point. What do you know of John?”
Suddenly weary, Colin turned his back on her and began pacing again. She had used the past tense. He knew what that implied. His younger brother, the one he had lost track of several years ago due to his own misplaced arrogance and indifference, was very likely dead.
Maggie heard the hoarse but heartfelt words and began to experience Colin’s growing misery herself, by way of empathic sympathy. “I have to start with the story of the baby.”
Looking up into his bleak eyes as he strode by, she wished she wasn’t so sure about the facts. “That’s how I got involved in the first place. I live near the border, and about six months ago a couple and their two-month-old daughter were involved in a terrible car crash on our side of the river. The couple died on impact, but the baby in the backseat survived.”
Sighing, she continued. “The sheriff asked me to take the child into my home, as our isolated county doesn’t have any local child welfare services. My neighbor, who runs a day-care center, helps me out when needed.” Maggie swallowed hard, wishing she could be wrong but knowing full well she wasn’t, and went on. “I’m a trained private investigator, so I’ve been looking into the deceased’s backgrounds ever since I took in the child, trying to trace any relatives of the little girl.”
A perplexed expression crossed Colin’s face as he quit pacing and slowly shook his head. “I don’t understand. Are you saying my brother married? Fathered a child? Impossible. I would’ve known.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Maggie asked, going on instinct. “Why are you searching for information about your own brother?”
Even in the dim lighting of the sordid room, Maggie could clearly see the pain streak through Colin’s eyes. She hurt for him. If it had been one of her brothers…
Nevertheless, she was still wary. When Colin accepted the facts, would he be willing to leave Emma in her care? Or would he do the unthinkable and demand she hand over his niece? Maggie’s life would stop if that happened. She needed this child. Emma had become her heart—her only chance. With cold fear trickling through her at the possibilities, Maggie reminded herself to take things slow and not jump ahead.
“I…uh…” Colin looked around, staring absently at his surroundings as if he’d only just arrived. “Our family was divided when John and I were children, ages ten and twelve, respectively. As the eldest, I stayed in my father’s care, went to his old school and joined his regiment in due course. John went with our mother to her family’s ancestral home in Ireland.” The words, sounding as if they were spoken by rote, seemed to grow small in Colin’s throat. “As long as my father was alive, we continued to receive word of my brother’s welfare.”
Maggie’s icy, worried feelings began to melt, as warm tears welled in her eyes. “Your father died recently?”
“It’s been several years since he passed away,” Colin answered with a bleak expression. “But I only returned to civilian life four months ago, after a long tour of duty, and then began looking for my brother.”
Maggie waited. There was a lot more to tell, she was sure. But she wasn’t sure how much of it Colin would be willing to give up to a complete stranger.
Funny, though, sometime in the last few minutes she’d stopped thinking of him as a stranger who could take away her whole world. Something about him called to her. Disturbed her, yes, yet made him appear much more like a friend in stranger’s clothing.
Still, she hoped he wouldn’t touch her again. The last two times had completely thrown her out of balance with shots of sexual energy the likes of which she hadn’t known existed.
A few moments of silence had apparently given Colin a chance to regain some self-control. He stopped pacing and turned to her. “Why are you asking questions? Weren’t you sent to talk to me by El Cuervo?”
“The Raven?” Maggie let the English translation roll off her tongue, but a chill ran down her spine. “No one sent me. I sought you out because—”
She sensed the danger an instant before catching sight of a flash of color outside the window.
“Watch out!” Maggie jumped up, knocking hard into Colin’s side at the exact moment the window exploded. Shattered glass and bits of broken wood frame sprayed everywhere as the two of them hit the floor.
Surprised but unhurt, and by no means out of commission, Colin rolled Maggie under him for protection and reached for the SIG Sauer at his back. A loud bang was quickly followed by a hail of bullets through the window. He ducked his head, and when he looked around, fire had ignited in a corner of the room. Bugger it.
From beneath his body, he heard Maggie mumbling what sounded like a chant, but the words weren’t in English. They weren’t in Gaelic, either, which could’ve been expected from her name. They sounded for all the world like a unique kind of Spanish.
The idea of her speaking Spanish made him wonder if she might be part of the Mexican drug lord’s conspiracy. It could be that she was lying about everything just to set him up. Did she know more than she’d said? Especially concerning the international drug sting that had sent John into hiding in the first place?
Ignoring his suspicions for the moment, Colin tensed further at the sudden, deadly quiet and got to his feet. He stayed hunched over as he palmed his weapon and flattened his body against the wall between the door and the window. He took aim out the window, trying to get a fix on the shadowy fire escape of the opposite building—without making himself too great a target.
He gave Maggie a swift glance. If she was guilty, then her own cohorts had turned against her. But Maggie Ryan could not be left to die in a burning room. It was unthinkable, despite the fact she could have betrayed him. It would be up to him to fight their way out.
“Colin, move farther away from the door. Hurry!”
Maggie crawled closer and jerked at his hand, trying to pull him down. He twisted from her grip and concentrated on targeting anything that moved outside the window. From the corner of his eye, he saw Maggie grab again at his pant’s leg, finally giving it one gigantic tug.
Off balance now, he heard another blast just as the wall at his side burst