Ready. Lucy Monroe

      He surveyed the locks on the door. They were too basic to be of any real use at keeping out the criminal element. He didn’t even hesitate.

      He had the door open faster than if he’d had a key.

      A slight whoosh of air to his left sent him into immediate battle-ready mode. Reflexes honed by six years in the Army Rangers and a decade spent as a mercenary took over. He swung toward the faint sound, his hand coming up to block the blow.

      He grabbed the poker before it connected with his head and had his assailant in a headlock before he realized it was Lise.

      He tossed the cast-iron poker aside and spun her to face him, her dark blond hair flying around her face. “What the hell are you trying to do?”

      Big hazel eyes stared back at him with a glazed look he’d come to know all too well in his profession.

      Terror.

      Her breath came in shallow pants and her sweatshirt-clad arms were trembling.

      What the hell was going on?

      “Why didn’t you answer the door?”

      Her mouth moved, but nothing came out.

      He shook her gently. “Speak, Lise.”

      Her eyes blinked and then filled with tears.

      “Damn it.” He hauled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.

      He’d really frightened her when he forced his way into her apartment. He hadn’t considered that possibility when he picked her locks. He should have.

      She was a small-town Texas girl living in the big city.

      Obviously, she hadn’t acclimated well.

      Her body shook against him and he felt like a real heel.

      “I didn’t mean to scare you, little one.”

      Lise’s fingers were digging into his shirt, holding the denim so tight, he’d lose the shirt before he lost her grip. She pressed her face into his chest as if she was literally burrowing into him.

      “Joshua?” It was the first recognizable sound she’d made in over a minute.

      “Yeah?”

      “What are you doing here?”

      “You told Bella you weren’t going to Texas for Thanksgiving.”

      Lise shuddered. “No. I’m not going.”

      She didn’t sound like she had a cold. Her usually soft voice was strained, but not in a way that could be caused by a scratchy throat.

      He rubbed her back.

      It just seemed like the right thing to do.

      She responded by relaxing her hold on his shirt just the tiniest bit. He kept it up, talking to her in the same tone of voice he’d used to calm the little boy he’d liberated on his last mission. He used similar words, too, telling her it was all right, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, that she was going to be okay.

      It took almost as long as it had taken him with the boy before she relaxed enough to step away from him. When she did and he got his first good look at her face, he winced.

      He’d seen snow with more color than her skin, except the purple bruises under her eyes. Her bow-shaped mouth trembled.

      “Lise, you don’t belong in Seattle.”

      “H-how…” She blinked, made a visible effort to gather herself in, and her quivering lips formed words. “How do you figure that?”

      “It’s pretty damn obvious to me you aren’t settling into city living. You get an unexpected visitor and you’re practically crawling out of your skin.”

      She shook her head and laughed hollowly. “Trust me, moving back to Texas won’t help.”

      “Why not?”

      “My problems travel with me.”

      “What is that supposed to mean?”

      She didn’t answer, but this time he didn’t wait around for a reply. He propelled her gently toward the bedroom. “You can tell me about it on the plane. Get your stuff together. We’ve got an eight o’clock flight.”

      “No.” She twisted from his guiding hand and stopped, wrapping her arms around herself, covering the Dallas Cowboys logo on her sweatshirt.

      “I can’t go, Joshua.” Her southern drawl was very pronounced, her voice on the ragged edge of hysterical.

      “Why not?”

      She swallowed and looked away from him, her body stiff with stress. “I’m afraid.”

      “Of what?”

      “I don’t want my family hurt because of me.” Her eyes were both pleading and wild. “If I go to Texas right now it could put them all at risk, even little Genevieve.”

      He bit back an ugly word. “Explain.”

      “I’m being stalked.”

      Lise flexed her fingers, feeling the tension in her body clear to her fingertips.

      Joshua had reacted to her announcement with absolute silence. He stood there, a formidable dark shadow in her hallway, his brown eyes trying to see into her soul. His stillness was as complete as his silence, which unnerved her, but at least he wasn’t telling her she was crazy, or imagining things.

      “Do you know who is stalking you?” he finally asked.

      “No.”

      “Why do you believe you’re being stalked?”

      “I don’t just believe it, I know it.” As simple as his questions were, it was hard for her brain to form answers in her current stressed-out state. “I’ve gotten anonymous e-mails that make it obvious I’m being watched.”

      “Did you try to trace the e-mails?”

      “Yes.” She stopped, having lost the train of conversation, and then she remembered again. “It didn’t work.”

      “Is that all that has happened so far?”

      “It’s enough.” Which wasn’t the whole answer, but was as much as she was willing to share right now.

      “Yes, it is,” he said, surprising her.

      The fact that he had believed her when no one else had, not the sheriff back home, and not the Seattle police, was just sinking into her sluggish mind when he spoke again.

      “You can tell me the rest of what’s got you so scared on the flight. No way do I believe you’re this out of control over a few e-mails.”

      She didn’t have time for explanations. She had to get him out of there, then she had to leave. She didn’t know where she was going to go, but she wasn’t going to sit around waiting for Nemesis to show up on her doorstep like Joshua had.

      She grabbed his arm and started shoving him toward the door. “Thank you for stopping by. Tell Jake and Bella I love them.”

      Her words were coming in short bursts and she wasn’t completely sure what she was saying…whatever it would take to get him to go.

      He stopped in front of the door and didn’t budge. “I’m not going anywhere, Lise.”

      “Of course you are—you’re going to Texas.”

      “Not without you.” He put his hands on her shoulders, their warmth and strength making her feel safe, but that was an illusion she couldn’t afford. “I’ll watch out for our family. I won’t let anyone hurt them, or you.”

      In any other circumstance, she would have believed him, but her unknown enemy had the advantage. The minute they stepped on