Armoured Attraction. Janie Crouch

“I’ve never heard him mention any such creature before.”

      “Very curious, indeed.” Derek waggled his eyebrows.

      “All right, enough, you two,” Steve cut in. He turned to Liam. “Like I said, is there anything we need to know about your friend or her situation?”

      “Not as far as I know,” Liam said. “She didn’t provide much detail. If it looks like something I can’t handle, I’ll let you know.”

      “You’re not going to call her first? Get more details?”

      “No, I’m just going to go.”

      Thankfully none of the three men in the room pointed out what Liam already knew: dropping everything and traveling from Omega headquarters in Colorado Springs to the Outer Banks of North Carolina because of a vague phone call from someone he hadn’t talked to in nearly a decade was overkill.

      But from the first moment he had heard Vanessa’s voice, figured out she was asking for help, Liam knew he would be doing just that.

      “Okay, I think one of the Omega jets is heading out to DC in the next few hours if you want to catch a ride there,” Steve responded. “Be safe and keep me posted as to when you’ll be back.”

      Joe and Derek didn’t say anything, although they were both staring at Liam with mouths slightly agape. Liam ignored them.

      “Okay. Thanks, Steve.”

      Liam just left. He didn’t want to explain himself to his friends, especially when he could hardly understand what he was doing himself. All he knew was that he had to see Vanessa.

      He wasn’t really surprised that she was still living in the Outer Banks. The two-hundred-mile stretch of land, a string of barrier islands running along the northeast coast of North Carolina, held a great deal of prime property and the Eppersons owned a good chunk of it.

      And Vanessa was princess of it all. She had been her whole life.

      Liam had found out the hard way that her love for her pampered way of life outweighed any promises she might make to any poor sap fool enough to fall in love with her. Fool enough to believe her when she said she loved him, too.

      Did she think of him when she felt the sand of the Roanoke Sound on her feet? On her back? Think of all the many hours they’d spent there together?

      Did she ever think about him asking her to run away and marry him right there in that sand? About saying yes?

      About not showing up where they were supposed to meet? About refusing to talk to him at all when he’d come by to see why she had changed her mind?

      Probably not.

      The address she had given him in the message was not her family mansion in Duck, which was slightly north of Nags Head and the preferred location for million-dollar mansions. It was some hotel he didn’t recognize at Mile Marker 13, pretty much in the middle of nowhere.

      Liam drove to his apartment and packed his things. He’d try to catch a ride with the team going to DC as Steve suggested. If not, he’d drive to Fort Carson, the army base in Colorado Springs. Omega worked pretty closely with the military when needed, and Liam had lots of contacts there from his days in Special Forces.

      The commanding officers might lock their daughters away when Liam was in sight, but they would gladly welcome him on board an aircraft to give him a lift wherever he was going.

      The thought brought a quick smile to Liam’s face. His playboy reputation was well deserved. He’d certainly earned it since he’d been in Colorado.

      Except for the past couple of years when he seemed to have lost his taste for fun, fast hookups. Yeah, he still flirted with all the gals—young or old—and kissed just about every woman he came across. But he wasn’t particularly interested in more than that.

      The thought of pseudo intimacy with another woman whose face he’d fondly remember but name he’d probably forget? Not as interesting anymore.

      Maybe it had something to do with watching two of his best friends—and fellow Omega agents—fall in love with strong, beautiful women over the past few months. Jon Hatton and Derek Waterman’s love for the women in their lives was downright palpable. Liam wanted something authentic like that for himself.

      Then it struck him. That was why he was going to Nags Head. Because until he could put what had happened there behind him, he was never going to be able to have something real with any woman.

      It was time. He was going to lay the ghost of Vanessa Epperson to rest once and for all. Her call was finally the excuse he needed.

      * * *

      LIAM WASN’T GOING to call.

      Vanessa had accepted that reality when she woke up this morning, sleeping in a pretty dingy hotel, a traumatized teenager curled into the tightest of balls in the bed next to her. He’d had all evening, all night and some of this morning to respond, but hadn’t.

      Maybe he hadn’t gotten the message. Maybe he was off on some important mission with the DEA or something.

      Maybe he still hated her.

      The reasons why he wasn’t contacting her didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that Vanessa was on her own in helping Karine.

      That was okay. Vanessa had learned in the hardest way possible that she was capable of handling on her own almost anything that came her way. This situation was no different.

      But Liam’s lack of contact still stung a little bit.

      She dragged herself out of bed, careful not to wake Karine. She knew from the girl’s whimpers and cries throughout the night that she couldn’t have gotten very good rest.

      Karine needed help. Probably medical and definitely psychological—both more than Vanessa could provide. If the hospital and police weren’t safe around here, then Vanessa was going to have to talk her into leaving the Outer Banks, at least for the day.

      Vanessa poured water into the cheap four-cup coffeemaker on the bathroom vanity. Once she had coffee, no matter how bad it was, she’d be able to figure out a plan.

      While she waited she turned on the local morning news. Although she doubted it, she was curious to see if there was any mention of Karine.

      At first nothing, just weather and tides—an important part of life on a string of islands. But then the breaking news...

      The sheriff’s office had set up roadblocks at the bridges on both sides of Nags Head. They were looking for a federal fugitive—considered armed and very dangerous—and were stopping all cars leaving the island to search them.

      Since there was only one road leading off Nags Head at the north and south bridges, she knew the police could, in essence, search every car attempting to leave the island.

      The rest of the news report was about the traffic havoc the car-by-car search was creating. No one from the sheriff’s office seemed willing to comment.

      Vanessa turned the television to mute and just stared at the screen.

      Dangerous federal fugitive, her ass. Vanessa was one hundred percent certain the “dangerous federal fugitive” was curled up on the bed whimpering in her sleep every few minutes. But it meant that it would be impossible to get Karine off the island, at least today.

      Not to mention that it confirmed that someone, at least one person pretty high up in the sheriff’s department, was definitely a part of what had happened to Karine and the other girls.

      The thought made Vanessa downright sick.

      She grabbed her coffee, looking around. They weren’t going to be able to stay here all day. They would need food—God only knew when Karine had last had a decent meal—and some other supplies. She’d given the girl a pair of shorts and a T-shirt she’d grabbed from her house, but they were too big.

      She couldn’t