Tall Dark Defender. Beth Cornelison

I understood what you’d been through, and I know how—”

      Annie stiffened, fury coursing through her blood. She shoved to her feet, balling her hands and glaring at Jonah. “Stop it! You can’t begin to know what I’ve been through! And I don’t know what your life was like growing up with a father who hurt you. Don’t you dare try to tell me—”

      “All right.” He put a hand on each of her shoulders, and she tensed, realizing the mistake she’d made.

      Her stomach knotted. Her mouth dried. Dear God, if she’d ever lost her temper and challenged Walt that way, she’d have paid dearly.

      Inhaling sharply, she held her breath, bracing for Jonah’s answering wrath.

      Instead, he murmured softly, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I only meant—”

      When a tremble raced through her, he paused, his brow lowering in a concerned frown. Cupping her chin, he lifted her face toward his, his thumb stroking her jaw.

      His tender gesture, so opposite the raw power she’d seen him display moments ago, caught her off guard. The warmth of his fingers, the crisp scent of soap that clung to him, the lulling calm in his voice had her senses reeling. Her head swam, and the heat of a blush prickled her skin.

      “Relax, beautiful. You’re safe with me. I swear it. I will never hurt you.” A husky growl of conviction emphasized his vow, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch.

      Annie couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Confused emotions tangled inside her. Part of her wanted to trust Jonah and believe the warm promise in his eyes. Another part of her remembered too clearly the brute violence he’d employed defending her in the alley last night and the power behind his punches in the boxing ring only moments ago. Despite his kindness and gentle touches, she’d witnessed Jonah’s fierce strength and skill. Her body’s reaction to him was only the natural response to being near so much virile magnetism. Wasn’t it?

      When she didn’t respond, Jonah lowered his hand and stepped back. He sighed and glanced away, his expression pensive. “Annie, I asked you here because I have a bad feeling about what happened last night.”

      Sinking back onto the chair, she rubbed her throbbing temple and shoved aside distracting thoughts of Jonah’s allure. “That makes two of us. Hardin isn’t likely to forget the money I lost any time soon. He’s going to make my life miserable until I repay him.”

      Jonah popped his knuckles restlessly and frowned. “I wasn’t referring to Hardin.”

      She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

      “I don’t think your attack was random. I think the guy who stole the money was waiting for you, that he was expecting someone to be making that delivery for Hardin.”

      A chill shimmied through her. “Waiting for me?”

      “I can’t go into detail, but…I have reason to believe the money you were delivering was profits from a gambling ring that Hardin had laundered through the diner’s accounts.”

      Her stomach seesawed. Annie’s emotions had spun in every conceivable direction in the past few minutes, but Jonah’s claim made her head reel. Hands shaking, she hugged herself and drew a ragged breath.

      “The man who mugged you may have intended to kill you so that you couldn’t make an ID. Or Hardin may have picked you to make the delivery because he thought you’d be least likely to talk, that he could keep you quiet through intimidation. Or…there are other scenarios possible, but they all boil down to this—you’re involved now. You’re in danger.”

      Chapter Five

      This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not again!

      Nausea flooded Annie’s gut, and a bitter taste rose in her throat. She shook her head. “No. I can’t…I didn’t d-do anything. I don’t know anything. I—I—”

      Jonah dragged a hand over his mouth. “Like it or not, because of that delivery you made, because of the theft, you are involved now, and you’re going to have to be careful. Watch your back. Take precautions.”

      Annie muffled a half gasp, half sob.

      She’d just spent months escaping a possessive and vengeful husband, seen him brought up on charges of stalking and murder, feared for her life and her children’s. She’d only recently started piecing her life back together, finding some sanity and calm.

      As he wrapped a firm, warm hand around her wrist, Jonah’s gaze drilled into her. “You need to be able to protect yourself. I want to show you a few basic techniques to deter an attacker.”

      She shook off his hand and narrowed her eyes, suspicion tickling her neck. “How do you know all this? What proof do you have that Hardin’s doing anything illegal?”

      “I don’t have anything solid enough to take to the authorities yet, but—”

      “You didn’t want me to call the cops last night. Why?” Her mind clicked, reviewing from a new perspective her attack, Jonah’s rescue and his defense of her with Hardin that morning. “Are you involved in whatever’s going on at the diner?” She rose and stumbled away from Jonah. “How do I know there really is a gambling ring or money laundering or…or—”

      Her chest seized, and her stomach pitched at the idea of unwittingly becoming ensnared in unlawful dealings at the diner. The turkey sandwich she’d eaten at lunch roiled in her belly and threatened to come back up.

      Jonah sighed. “I know because…I’ve spent the past six months on this investigation.”

      “This investigation? You’re a cop?”

      “I was. In Little Rock. But I left the force about a year ago, right before I moved here.”

      Mentally she reviewed everything she’d heard the other waitresses say about Jonah. “You told Susan you worked at the paper mill. That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

      He blew a deep breath out through pursed lips. “Yeah. That’s my cover.”

      Annie’s heart tapped a staccato rhythm, and she studied Jonah with new eyes, doubt and distrust nipping at her. “Your cover? Who are you? What are you? Why should I trust you? What do you want from me?” The questions tumbled from her in increasing volume as her fear mounted.

      He quieted her by touching a finger to her lips. “I don’t work for anyone. This investigation is personal for me. I’ve been looking into the gambling ring and money laundering because of a friend of mine. The men involved in the ring swindled Michael out of his entire retirement savings.”

      A sympathetic pang gripped her chest. Annie understood the gravity of such a loss. She lived paycheck to paycheck and couldn’t imagine how she’d survive if her income disappeared.

      Jonah stepped back and propped himself against the scarred desk again. “Last night, I asked you not to go to the cops because I was afraid police involvement in your mugging would scare some of the players into hiding. I’m getting close to nailing these bastards, and I didn’t want any unnecessary outside law enforcement to rock the boat before I get the evidence I need.”

      Annie shook her head trying to wrap her mind around the scenario Jonah laid out. “Wh-what kind of evidence?”

      “I need to see for myself exactly how the operation runs, who is involved up the chain. I’ll need to videotape a transaction or record incriminating conversations. If I can get them, bank records, computer files, a log of wagers, any kind of paper trail to support my case.” He wiped his palms on his jeans and shook his head. “But the deeper I get into their organization, the dicier it gets. These men have a lot of money at stake. If they get spooked, they’ll protect themselves and their interests in the operation by any means possible. Even murder.”

      A numbing chill crept through Annie. She stared at Jonah, questions