Rocky Mountain Revenge. Cindi Myers

he’d declared. “If she likes you, I like you.”

      And that was it. With one dance he’d gone from suspicious stranger to practically a member of the family. Weeks went by when he scarcely returned to his own apartment, living at the Giardino penthouse in Manhattan. He ate dinner with the family four nights out of five. He saw Elizabeth every day. And he collected reams of evidence he hoped to use to one day put her father away. His work never felt like a betrayal of her; she was too good for her father. Jake was going to rescue her from that life.

      He’d never asked if she wanted rescuing. He could see now that had been a mistake. “I’m sorry things worked out the way they did,” he said.

      “It could have been worse. At least we’re both still alive.” She sipped her coffee. “Elizabeth’s gone, but I’m still here.”

      “Are you okay with that?”

      “Would I rather be living the life of the carefree, wealthy socialite in the most exciting city in the world?” She shook her head. “Even if it was possible, I couldn’t go back to that life—not after you showed me what was really going on, where the money that paid for my designer clothes and nights on the town really came from.”

      “I always knew there was more to you than most people gave you credit for.”

      “Right. They didn’t give me much credit after my father was arrested. If I wasn’t the poor little rich girl who was biting the hand that fed her, I was the gold-plated harpy who was no better than a criminal herself.”

      “I guess I missed all that.”

      “How long were you in the hospital?”

      “Five weeks. Then I was in a rehab facility for four months after that.”

      “Why aren’t you in the witness protection program?” she asked. “If my father knows you’re alive he’ll do everything he can to change that.”

      “You thought I was dead—he probably does, too. And even if he doesn’t, I fought too hard to keep my life to turn around and leave it behind. Not that I blame you for making that choice.”

      “Maybe it was easier for me because I didn’t want to be who I was anymore. But I still don’t feel safe. Aren’t you afraid?”

      “If I let myself think about the danger, I’d be afraid. But I’ve learned to put it out of my mind.”

      “To compartmentalize.”

      “Is that what it’s called?”

      “The marshal who’s assigned to me—a guy named Patrick Thompson—used to talk about it. He told me that’s what I had to learn to do—to lock the fear away in a separate part of my mind and not let it out, like a file I’d sealed.”

      “Good advice. Did you take it?”

      “I tried. It works sometimes. And then something happens to remind me....” She looked away, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

      “Has something happened lately?” he asked. “Something that’s made you afraid again?”

      She didn’t answer, and kept her face turned away from him. He leaned forward and took her chin in his hand, gently turning her head until her eyes met his. “Tell me.”

      Chapter Four

      Jake noticed Anne’s hesitation, as if she was debating whether to trust him. “I’m the only one who knows your story,” he said softly. “The only one who can understand what you’re going through.”

      She took a long sip of coffee, then set the cup down and looked him in the eye. “Yesterday, after we talked, I went to my gym. The owner told me a man had been in there asking about me. Was that you?”

      He shook his head. “I haven’t been to any gym. And I didn’t ask anyone in Rogers about you. I came straight to your house as soon as I got here.”

      The lines around her eyes deepened. “McGarrity—that’s the gym owner—said this guy was dark, and built like a football player.”

      “Could be one of your father’s goons.”

      “Yes. It could be.” Her shoulders sagged. “I started to leave last night—to throw what I could in the car and just...run away.”

      “Why didn’t you?”

      “What would that solve? I’d still be afraid, and alone. More alone even than I am now. I like it here. I’ve made friends. And there are people here who depend on me. Kids. I don’t want to let them down.”

      “You’ve always been a fighter. That’s one of the things that drew me in. Even that first night on the dance floor, you made your own rules. Everyone else had to follow them or get out of your way.”

      “You make me sound like a pushy witch.”

      “You could be that, too. But it’s kept you alive.”

      She shook her head. “I’m not like that anymore. I’ve learned the wisdom of staying in the background and letting others take the lead. I just want to do my job and live a quiet life.”

      “Wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have to be afraid?”

      “You mean if my father weren’t around to threaten me?”

      “Yes.”

      “I’m not going to help you, Jake. I did what I could to punish my father and I wasted my breath.”

      “You won’t be wasting your breath this time.”

      “What are you going to do? You’re not with the Bureau anymore. You don’t have any authority. If the government can’t find Sam Giardino, with all their resources, what makes you think you’ll have better luck?”

      “You know your father better than anyone. You know his habits and the people he associates with. The places he likes to vacation and where he stays when he goes out of town.”

      “You can learn all those things without me. Your friends in the Bureau have files filled with that kind of information.”

      “They know facts. They don’t know emotions, or the reasons your father does what he does. You can tell me those things. You can help me predict what he’s going to do next.”

      “And then what? You confront him and end up dead yourself? Or you lead him to me and I’m dead?”

      “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

      “You can’t make that promise. Not when so much is out of your control.”

      “I’m going to stay with you tonight.”

      She straightened. “You will not.”

      “Yes, I will. At least until we find out who was asking about you at your gym yesterday.”

      “Jake, you cannot stay at my house. What will people think?”

      “Since when do you care what people think?” The woman he’d known before had made a point of flaunting public opinion.

      “Since I moved to a small town where everyone knows me. I’m a schoolteacher, for God’s sake. I have a reputation to protect.”

      “And me spending the night with you is going to ruin that reputation? You’re a grown woman.”

      “This isn’t New York. Some people here still care about morality.”

      “So you’re telling me nobody here sleeps with anybody else unless they’re lawfully married?”

      “I’m sure they do, but they’re discreet about it.”

      “So we’ll be discreet. Besides, I never said I was going to sleep with you—unless that’s what you want.”

      The