Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-One
Chapter Ninety-Two
Chapter Ninety-Three
Chapter Ninety-Four
Chapter Ninety-Five
Chapter Ninety-Six
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Chapter One Hundred
Chapter One Hundred One
Chapter One Hundred Two
Chapter One Hundred Three
Chapter One Hundred Four
Chapter One Hundred Five
Chapter One Hundred Six
Chapter One Hundred Seven
Chapter One Hundred Eight
Chapter One Hundred Nine
Chapter One Hundred Ten
Epilogue
About the Author
Discover more Amara titles… The Man I Want to Be
Dark Justice: McCabe
Undercover with the Nanny
Lock ‘N’ Load
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Allison B. Hanson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 105, PMB 159
Fort Collins, CO 80525
rights@entangledpublishing.com
Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Nina Bruhns
Cover design by KAM Designs
Cover photography by
MRBIG_PHOTOGRAPHY/iStock
oksixx/DepositPhotos
ISBN 978-1-64063-654-5
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition September 2018
Dear Reader,
Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
xoxo
Liz Pelletier, Publisher
For my writing soul mate, Misty Simon. I’m so glad I found you!
Chapter One
Outside Denver, Colorado
No one in the history of the world had ever been this nervous at a child’s soccer game. U.S. Deputy Marshal Dane Ryan knew he shouldn’t be here. He’d taken every precaution, but it still wasn’t safe.
Not only was he at risk of being discovered, but he was sure the fake mustache made him look like a 70s porn star.
The mothers sharing the bleachers stared at him and murmured to each other. He was a stranger, and mothers protected their young with a vengeance. Especially from men who looked like they made a living playing the part of Hot Copier Repairman.
The truth was, Dane wasn’t even watching the game in the field where he was seated. His interest was in the game in the neighboring field where the ten-year-olds played with slightly more skill.
His son, Tobey, was number twenty-one. Tobey needed a haircut, and the lace on his left shoe was coming untied. Dane knew all those things, but he didn’t know his son’s favorite flavor of ice cream. Did he really like playing soccer, or did he feel obligated to join because his friends did?
At the other field Dane’s wife, Caroline, sat next to her new husband, Randy, and cheered for their son’s team. Technically, she was still his wife. Not his ex-wife. Although, since she’d been told he died in a fire, he couldn’t blame her for moving on with her life. Legally, their marriage ended when his death certificate was filed five years ago.
Five years ago, when David Ryan ceased to exist, and Dane Ryan was born from the ashes.
Just then, Tobey scored a goal, and Dane yelled out. “Good job!”
Except, at the field where he was seated there was a time out for a crying child.
Shit.
He gauged the spectators. The lionesses were uneasy. He should go. This was too risky. Worse, it was becoming a habit.
He’d stayed away from his old life for years, but recently, while on medical leave recovering from being shot in the leg, he’d become restless.
Restlessness had given way to curiosity, and curiosity—along with a strong wave of missing what he’d lost—had brought him here. Three times.
It wasn’t healthy. This wasn’t his life anymore. He’d given it up so Tobey and Caroline would be safe. So they wouldn’t have
to uproot their lives and start over because of his mistake.
One of the women had pulled out her phone and had it pointed in his direction.
Time to go.
With one last look at his son running down the field, Dane let out a sigh and slid out of his seat. He needed to leave before his photo ended up all over Facebook. No doubt these women would recognize him if he came back. Which meant he couldn’t come back.
He’d tried to stay away but hadn’t been able to. Now he had a compelling reason.
He was dead. It was time to start acting like it.
His leg was stiff from sitting for so long, and the dampness from the late-April day didn’t help much. The familiar pain throbbed though his left thigh as he limped away.
He paused behind a tree to see Tobey run over to Caroline and Randy. It was obvious his son was happy and loved. That was all Dane needed to know.
It was time to move on.
This time for real.
Chapter Two
Miles and hours away from the soccer field, Dane decided it was safe to stop for the night. He chose a hotel with a bar across the street, knowing he didn’t want to be alone.
In his past life he had been a people person. He’d had clients and meetings. There had been daily interactions with people. As a U. S. Deputy Marshal assigned to Task Force Phoenix, he sometimes went days without speaking out loud.
After seeing the happy family that should have been his, he needed to feel connected to someone. If only for a night.
The usual twinge of disappointment washed over him at the idea of sleeping with a stranger. He could forgive Caroline for getting married and moving on. She thought he was dead. But Dane didn’t have the luxury of that freedom. In his mind, he was still married. Regardless of how tense and strained that marriage had become before it ended with his fake death, he wasn’t the type of man to walk away.
Tonight, he granted himself permission from his list of reasons. Not only was he no longer legally married, but he was not the same person Caroline had married eleven years ago. He had a different identity, a different job, and lived a much different life.
No longer the young executive who was eager to please, he was now a hardened thirty-five-year-old marshal who’d been trained to kill, and had used that training six times in the last five years.
Time had moved on, and they’d both changed.
As much as it bothered him, he knew deep in his heart that if he’d stayed, they wouldn’t still be married. They’d been headed for divorce; he’d just been too stubborn to say it, and she’d refused to give up her pretense of living the perfect life. It didn’t matter that they were miserable. If they appeared happy, they were.
He sat next to a group of people and nodded in greeting. A few minutes later, he had inserted himself into their conversation and was having a good time.
Feeling someone brush up against him from the other side, he turned to see a gorgeous brunette sit down.
“Was someone sitting here?” she asked when she noticed him looking at her. Dane had tossed the mustache as soon as he was out of town, but the residue from the adhesive pulled as he smiled.
“No. Help yourself.” There was only one seat available next to him, which meant she wasn’t expecting anyone to join her.
Digging through her purse, she smiled at the bartender. “Can I get a beer? The special would be great.” She pulled some money out and stacked it on the bar in front of her, the international sign she planned to stay awhile.
In a matter of minutes, they were chatting easily, and she had shared her story—divorced, not looking for anyone. Lena Scott was focusing on her career in design, and she was in town for a meeting. It had gone well, but now she was second-guessing everything because they hadn’t called her back yet. She took a sip of her beer and looked at him expectantly.
Right. She wanted him to share. Normal people expected a person to reciprocate. He swallowed down the urge to tell her the truth, and pushed the lies out of his mouth.
“I’m in sales. Just passing through.” That was the extent of his story. He kind of blanked out while studying her eyes. They were multi-colored. Gold, green, blue, and gray all mixed together in a kaleidoscope of colors.
“Are you married?” she asked.
He shook himself from the hypnotic trance so he could focus.
“No. No, I’m not,” he answered with a smile.
Things were definitely looking up.
Chapter Three
Lena Scott smiled back at the man sitting next to her, tamping down her acute nervousness.
She’d expected this to be easier. There’d been a time, years ago, when meeting a guy in a bar hadn’t made her panic. It had been easy to start up a conversation and find a common interest. All over the world, millions of people spent their Saturday evenings playing out this tried-and-true method of seeking out companionship.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t really here for companionship. She had a very different motive, and it was that motive that caused her voice to shake when she’d asked him if he was married.
She let out the breath she was holding when he answered in the negative. It wouldn’t be the first time a man lied about having a wife when meeting a woman in a bar, but she believed him.
About that part, at least.
The rest, she wasn’t certain. Sales? She didn’t get that vibe. The way he’d brushed over her questions to turn them back on her convinced her he wasn’t who he was pretending to be.
Not that she should judge. She wasn’t in Colorado for a meeting. She wasn’t a designer. And she wasn’t going to sleep with him, despite the attraction that spiked when she looked into his warm brown eyes.
At another time, she might have been interested in the lean muscles, the dirty-blond hair, and bright smile. But she had a job to do. One she couldn’t afford to mess up. Getting to know him would only make that job more difficult…but she wasn’t ready to move on to the next step. She needed time to mentally prepare.
She turned up her smile and leaned closer, using her body language to promise all the things she wouldn’t be able to deliver.
Chapter Four
Dane spent the next hour talking and laughing with the beautiful woman. Lena was just what he needed to help him feel alive again. Being dead took its toll.
“I’ll be flying out tomorrow,” he said when it was going on midnight. It was time to seal the deal and move this somewhere more private.
He hoped she wouldn’t mind if he stayed the night. It somehow seemed more respectable if he stayed rather than ran away like a thief in the night.
“What time is your flight? I’m leaving tomorrow, too,” she said after biting her bottom lip.
She was a bit of a puzzle. She seemed to know where this was going, but there was something—shyness maybe?—that made him think she didn’t do this very often.
“Eight,” he answered honestly. Throughout their conversation there had been several times when he’d been able to tell her the truth. He’d enjoyed sharing those small facts. It made this next step slightly easier.
“Eight forty-five,” she said with a smile.
“Maybe we could have breakfast together before leaving for the airport,” he hinted with a grin.
She pressed her lips together and kept her gaze on the empty glass in her hands. He noticed her hands were shaking, but she gripped the glass tighter and smiled.
“What happens in Denver, stays in Denver?” she offered quietly.
“That’s right.”
“Okay.”
He could tell by the dip of her head she was nervous. She must not make a habit of meeting men at bars and taking them back to her room. That made this even better.
His leg throbbed when he stood,
causing him to suck in a quick breath as the shooting pain subsided. He’d broken down and taken a pain killer when Lena was checking her phone, but it hadn’t taken effect yet.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Are you okay?” She looked down at his leg.
“Yeah. Old injury.” Injuries, he corrected silently. He didn’t offer the story since it was too unbelievable, even to him.
First, he’d been shot in the leg by his boss’s daughter. She’d been afraid at the time, and Dane was the first person to move toward her. A few months later, he was bitten by a dog in the same leg. And just three weeks ago, he’d been doing surveillance and fell off a roof. The same leg got ripped up on a fence. He was cursed.
“You kind of got a sexy John Wayne swagger thing going on,” she said with a laugh that made his body stir.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He tipped his imaginary cowboy hat and grinned.
This was going well. He liked a woman with a sense of humor. Caroline had been funny when they were in college, but real life had stripped it away.
“If you like the swagger, wait until you see the sexy scars.” Depending on the angle, they resembled an old woman with a pipe or a tree being stepped on by a giant chicken foot.
She laughed again. “You really know how to sell it.”
He reached for her hand and tugged her into him. Their lips met, and she let out a soft sigh as she melted against him.
One thing that hadn’t changed about Dane in all these years, he was still a romantic. He enjoyed the thrill of a first kiss, and the way a woman’s eyes lit up when she was interested. The anticipation of slowly stripping a woman and revealing each treasure of her body.
Maybe that was the reason he didn’t care for the normal bar hook-up. It lacked the natural exploration. It felt manufactured and fake.
This kiss, however, felt real.
Excitement and anticipation tingled down his spine.
His earlier concern of whether or not he would regret doing this was gone. It still might end up being a bad idea, but at the moment he no longer cared.
He wanted Lena.
He managed to release her so they could continue to her hotel room. Inside, he closed the door and pressed her up against it to kiss her lips and move down her throat.
“Let’s have a drink,” she said as she maneuvered away from him. He backed off, knowing she might be having second thoughts about being with a stranger.