The Secret Heiress. Terri Reed

fabric covering and focused on her surroundings rather than her pain. Crown molding, high-quality furniture and an understated color scheme in muted rose and greens created a pleasing atmosphere in the waiting room. The Christmas tree added a nice, homey touch and the fresh scent of pine. She liked the warm and comfortable feel of Trent Associates. She hadn’t really been sure what to expect, since she’d never been here.

       Or hired a bodyguard. She could barely believe she was hiring one now. But she knew it wouldn’t be safe to go to Mississippi alone. Honestly, it probably wasn’t safe to go to Mississippi at all—but she wasn’t going to let that stop her.

       She’d been truthful when she’d told Don she didn’t want Mr. Maddox’s money. At least not for herself—her dress boutique had a booming business despite the troubled economy. There were charities she supported that could use the funds.

       But learning more about her birth mother and the family whose DNA she shared was important to her. She had so many unanswered questions.

       It wasn’t that she didn’t love her parents—the older couple who’d adopted and raised her. She loved them with every fiber of her being.

       But a part of her had always felt out of place. Her dark hair and olive complexion made it obvious she didn’t belong in a statuesque family of Swedish descent. She was the odd duck, the outsider. Though she never questioned her adoptive parents’ love for her, she’d always longed for a more basic sense of connection.

       The front door opened and two women walked in, distracting Caroline from her thoughts. The tall brunette, her hair slicked back into a French twist, wore a sleek black coat and knee-high black, low-heeled boots. The very picture of sophistication. In contrast, the other woman had a wild head of blond curls and a very animated face. Plus, she was tiny. Even more petite than Caroline. Her clunky bright pink snow boots made squishy noises on the hardwood floor as the two women walked past and disappeared down the hall.

       More bodyguards? Okay, the dark one looked the part, maybe. But the other? She looked more like a kindergarten teacher.

       Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Caroline lifted her gaze, hoping for Don’s return, but instead a well-dressed man, closer to fifty, approached. Though not nearly as tall as Don, there was nothing diminutive about him. His craggy face showed a life well lived. A quiet strength inspiring trust emanated from him as he sat beside Caroline on the sofa. He stuck out his hand. “Ms. Tully, I’m James Trent.”

       Bemused and impressed that the man behind the name of the company was seeing her personally, she slipped her hand into his. “Mr. Trent.”

       He covered her hand in a fatherly gesture. She suddenly longed for her parents, the people who loved her. She didn’t go home to New Hampshire nearly often enough. She vowed to make a better effort to spend time with her mother and father.

       “Don explained your situation,” James said. “I have every confidence in his ability to keep you safe.”

       The tension inside of Caroline eased. Don would be her bodyguard. She’d be safe in his care. She felt almost light-headed with gratitude.

       Don stepped into the room. His features that moments ago had shown compassion and kindness were now as hard as granite. His square jaw looked firm, his blue-green eyes watchful, but guarded.

       She tilted her head, unsure why he’d become so cool.

       Then she noticed he’d put on a shoulder holster. It held a big, black gun against his left side. A shiver tripped over her.

       “I’ll escort you to Mississippi, Ms. Tully,” Don said.

       Ms. Tully? Was he kidding? Her gaze darted to Mr. Trent. Was Don acting so weird and formal because of his boss? “Thank you, Mr. Cavanaugh. Mr. Trent.”

       Trent patted her hand before rising from the sofa. “Don’t worry, Ms. Tully. You’ll be well protected.”

       “I know,” she murmured, her gaze on Don.

       Don inclined his head in deference to his boss as the man left the room. Then he turned to her, his expression still hard and unreadable. Mr. Trent was gone, so why was Don still being so distant?

       “Where are you staying?” he asked.

       “With the Burkes,” she replied. Kristina and her homicide-detective husband, Gabe, had been adamant she stay in their guest bedroom until the investigation was over. She’d gratefully accepted.

       “We have a lot to arrange before we head south.”

       She grasped his outstretched hand. Their palms pressed together. Her fingers curled automatically around his as he pulled her to her feet. She didn’t want to let go. His touch not only warmed, but made her feel connected to him. And kicked up an anxious flutter inside for yearning for that connection.

       Not going there, she reminded herself. Ever. Again.

       She extracted her hand. “How do we explain your presence in Mississippi?”

       His mouth twisted in a grim smile. “I’m your new fiancé.”

       Two days later, Caroline sat next to Don on a plane bound for Jackson, Mississippi. Though the police were still investigating the bombing of her apartment, they had yet to find a suspect. The lead detective had said he’d contact her if they came up with any answers. He saw no reason she should stick close. He did warn her to be careful. That was what Don was for. To make sure she was cared for. Safe.

       Anticipation bubbled in her tummy.

       Once she’d made the decision to journey south to the Maddox estate, everything had come together in a whirl of activity. She’d called Mr. Paladin to explain that she and her fiancé would be coming. He’d made the necessary preparations for their arrival.

       After arranging for her assistant to take care of Caroline’s clothing store through the holidays, she and Don traveled to New Hampshire to explain to her parents why she wouldn’t be spending Christmas with them.

       Telling them had been hard, but they’d understood her need to know where she came from. Love for the people who’d raised her filled her heart to overflowing. She thanked God for giving her Evangeline and Herbert Tully. They made plans to celebrate Christmas together after her return. Wanting to keep them from worrying, she refrained from telling them about the attempt on her life. And while she explained that her mother was deceased, she didn’t admit that Isabella had been murdered.

       “You okay?”

       She slanted a glance at Don. “Nervous.”

       “Understandable.”

       Don had researched the Maddox family beyond what she had been able to find. Apparently, Trent Associates had enough law enforcement connections to do some real digging. Caroline had been fascinated by what he’d told her of the family’s history…but she’d been very disturbed by what he’d learned about her mother’s death in New Orleans twenty-seven years ago. The case had never been solved. A ripple of unease cascaded over her at the thought of it.

       Even if Caroline found answers to some of her questions, other questions would remain unanswered—like who killed her mother and why?

       Don’s warm hand covered hers, comfort sweeping up her arm and chasing away her distress. She turned her hand and held on, needing his strength.

       Not good. Not good at all. He was her pretend fiancé. They didn’t have to pretend when it was only the two of them alone. But she couldn’t bring herself to withdraw her hand.

       Thirty minutes after touchdown they were on their way in a compact rental with a map of the area. The rental car agent had drawn out the quickest route from Jackson to the Maddox estate in Jefferson County in the middle of the Mississippi Valley.

       Low, gray clouds had hovered menacingly when they started driving. Half an hour later, they opened up to a torrent of rain. The rhythmic swoosh of the wipers and the hum of the tires on the road were the only sounds as Don drove.