The Getaway Bride

“I wanted to make sure he hadn’t killed his wife and hired me to cover his tracks.”

Page caught her breath at Blake’s phlegmatic statement “That’s a horrible thing to say!”

Blake shrugged. “He wouldn’t be the first who’d tried to dupe me.”

Page would bet that few had succeeded. Something about Blake made her uncomfortable, even as it reassured her to have him on her side.

Hearing Gabe moving around in the living room, Page looked a bit wistfully in that direction. “He hates me now,” she murmured, hardly aware that she’d spoken aloud.

Blake’s expression gave little clue to his thoughts. “Is that what you believe?”

She swallowed painfully. “I see it in his eyes when he looks at me.”

“Then maybe you’d better look again.”

Blake straightened, and pushed a hand through his heavy fall of blond hair. “Gabe’s not the only one who has changed during the past couple of years,” he said. “Could be he’s in there asking himself what you feel about him now.” she bit her lip. She didn’t want to examine her feelings for Gabe too closely. It hurt too badly to consider that the giddy, desperate, all-consuming love she’d once felt for him might no longer be returned.

As she’d discovered during the past two and a half years, there were times when it was infinitely more comfo

rtable to feel nothing at all.

BLAKE DIDN’T STAY long after he’d examined the photos. He seemed to think the best plan of action would be for Gabe and Page to stay safely hidden, at the cabin while he dug more deeply into the Wingate murder-suicide case. He still believed, he told them, that there had to be a connection between that incident and Page’s tormentor.

“I’ll stay in touch,” he told Gabe as he took his leave, tapping the cell phone clipped to his belt. “You keep your guard up.”

Gabe nodded. “I will.”

Page couldn’t help wondering if they were referring to her or the lunatic who’d been stalking her. She suspected that Gabe was almost equally wary of both of them.

Blake turned to Page before stepping out into the night. “Get some rest, blue eyes,” he murmured; touching the worry line between her eyebrows with the tip of one finger. “You aren’t alone in this anymore.”

A pang shot through her heart. He had no idea, she was sure, of how much his words meant to her. Or how badly they frightened her.

“Be careful, Blake,” she whispered.

He flashed her a high-voltage grin. “Careful is my middle name,” he assured her.

It occurred to her then that she didn’t even know his last name—at least his real last name. He was gone before she could ask him.

She turned to Gabe and saw that his face was dark, his eyebrows drawn into a fierce scowl.

“Blake is on my payroll,” he said curtly. “That’s the only reason he’s involved with this.”

She lifted her chin, stung by his tone. If he was warning her not to take Blake’s interest personally, he needn’t have bothered. She’d spent two and a half years distancing herself from others. She would not change that habit now—not until she was absolutely certain that anyone she called a friend would not be automatically targeted by a madman.

And didn’t Gabe understand that friendship was all she could ever offer any other man except him? Gabe was the only man she’d ever truly loved. She had been willing to give up her life for him, despite his doubts. Nothing had changed—not her feelings, nor her determination to keep him from harm, whatever she had to do.

“I hope you’re paying him well,” was all she said to Gabe, forcing her voice to sound as cool as his. “You’ve just put his life at risk. Something tells me that’s not what he had in mind when he took this case.”

8

THE CABIN seemed almost unbearably quiet after Blake’s departure. Page and Gabe sat in the living room, trying not to stare at each other. Page thought she would go crazy if one of them didn’t say something soon.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose Blake will have any new information before morning.”

His expression rather brooding, Gabe shook his head. “No. Probably not.”

“Should you call your family? Let them know you’re all right?”