Targeted For Murder. Elizabeth Goddard

for a living. He could already have killed her. Why was he toying with her?

      Regardless of the reasons, his intentions were clear and he would overpower her soon.

      All this Cooper took in on his approach. Before he reached the two, the man shoved her to the ground, straddled her and wrapped his hands around her throat.

      Showtime.

      Cooper made himself known, aimed his weapon at the man’s head. “Let her go.”

      But the man ignored Cooper and continued to strangle her. The woman’s eyes were already bloodshot.

      “Let her go now, or I will shoot you.” He fired off a warning shot. Still the man didn’t let go.

      Cooper didn’t want to kill anyone. He’d seen too much blood already. Instead, he rushed him like a linebacker, barreling into him. Muscle jarred—steel swords clashing—as Cooper toppled the man, pushing him off the woman.

      Together, they fell against the rocky ground, pebbles and sharp stones grinding into them. Cooper rolled and scrambled to his feet, raising his arm to strike the man across the head with the butt of his weapon, hoping to knock him unconscious. As his hand came down, the man thrust his arm up and gripped Cooper’s wrist with surprising strength, preventing his strike.

      He’d underestimated this man.

      They rushed each other like two rutting elks. The fight was on, and Cooper’s weapon was tossed aside like an afterthought. A Green Beret in the army, he had his own set of hand-to-hand combat skills that included a variety of fighting styles. And right now, he was more than glad his exercise program continued to challenge him. Otherwise he would already be dead.

      But he didn’t practice this on a daily basis. Why should he? And now the man had him on the defensive, protecting all his vulnerable parts.

      Eyes, neck, throat, solar plexus...

      If he had any doubts before about his opponent’s profession, they were long gone. He was certain this man was a hit man... No.

      More than that.

      An assassin.

      Cooper had met his match and on his own home turf, no less.

      Sweat trickled into his eyes and burned. He gasped for breath, ignored the pain. Ignored the frustration and let his instincts and fighting skills work for him. Cooper knew he was the weaker opponent in this match.

      But he had an advantage somewhere.

      What was it?

      There had to be one.

      They circled each other now, the man catching his breath as well. Something like the pleasure of a challenge glinted in the man’s dark eyes.

      “I haven’t ever fought a mountain man.” A scoffing laugh erupted.

      Mountain man? So the man was trying to taunt him now?

      “Then I have the advantage. I’ve fought plenty of killers. You’re nothing special.”

      The other man just laughed, and pulled a knife from his pocket. “I’ve enjoyed sparring with you. But now the fun is over. This woman has already been too much trouble for me. Are you willing to lose your life for her?”

      Cooper had no plans to die today, but who did? “I have every intention of making sure she’s safe. That you don’t succeed in killing her.”

      “Do you even know her?”

      “Never seen her before in my life.”

      “A hero, then. Don’t be a martyr, too—just walk away.”

      “Why are you trying to kill her?” Cooper asked, borrowing time. But the assassin was also stalling. For what purpose, Cooper couldn’t know.

      “I tell you what...” He gestured behind him to the cliff’s edge. “You toss her down the cliff for me and I’ll let you live.”

      The man was twisted in ways Cooper didn’t want to linger on.

      But he’d given Cooper an advantage, sparking a memory that allowed anger and rage from the past to drive him, empower him. He’d watched his brother throw himself over. Commit suicide.

      Cooper hadn’t been able to stop him. Now was the moment he could let go and unleash the beast.

      Letting that memory fuel him, Cooper charged the man and quickly disarmed him of the knife. They rolled until they were at the cliff’s edge. Doubt crawled over Cooper. Would the assassin push him off the ledge to his death? Take Cooper with him when he fell?

      Then the woman was there, pounding on the assassin entangled with Cooper, using martial arts again until the man freed himself from them—but then lost his footing. He hung on to the gnarled roots growing from the rocky ledge as he clung for his life.

      Cooper reached for him. “Give me your hand. I’ll pull you up.”

      Fear didn’t grip the man like Cooper would have expected. Instead anger and hate filled the man’s gaze. Determination marked his features, and he made no move to accept Cooper’s help. Cooper reached, grabbing the man’s arm. In this position, the man could take him with him if he chose to fall and drag Cooper along.

      What am I doing?

      But even if the man was an assassin, Cooper couldn’t stand by and watch another man die like this. And anyway, he still wanted answers.

      “Why kill her? What’s she to you? Who are you?” In his peripheral vision, he could see that she stood back and away from the edge, eerily silent. She had to already know the answer.

      A smirk lifted the man’s lips. “It’s just business. If I die, it’s only a matter of time before another will come.”

      Then, he twisted out of Cooper’s grip and dropped, his body falling hundreds of feet toward the rocky Rogue River rapids below.

      Cooper couldn’t bring himself to watch, this image melding with the other of his brother’s fall to his death.

      But now was not the time to lose himself in memories or guilt. Not when the woman was still there, with possibly another killer on her trail.

      * * *

      Hadley pressed her hand against her midsection, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Cold laced the wind that rushed over her and rustled the trees like it was any other day. As though none of what she’d experienced had happened.

      The man who’d fought with the assassin turned away from the cliff’s edge and faced her, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath— Or maybe in disbelief.

      He tugged off his ripped jacket. Sweat darkened the back of his shirt, torn at the arm.

      If only she could get the assassin’s last words out of her head.

      It’s just business. If I die, it’s only a matter of time before another will come.

      Nausea roiled. She’d done the best she could to disappear. Now what? Where did she go?

      Her eyes rose to the face of the man who’d inserted himself into her fight. It was caked with blood and dirt, as was his shaggy brown hair. His steel-blue eyes stared at her. He appeared as shocked as she was from the events of the last few moments.

      But he was still alive.

      She took in his sturdy six-foot form. He didn’t look much older than her. Early thirties, maybe? He was definitely well-trained. He’d somehow survived fighting with the assassin sent to kill her.

      Her relief palpable, she almost cried.

      “Are you okay?” His voice was gentler than she had expected.

      But what must he think of her? “No.”

      This wasn’t over.

      I have to know.

      Hadley