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CHAPTER TWO

H e’d been so close.

Forbes Ballentine led the intruder through the cave that had been hidden from strangers for generations.

As soon as he’d seen the boat motoring into the private inlet, he’d set out to witness the goings-on in person.

The video feed from cameras he’d had installed all around the mansion never gave him enough information.

Forbes needed to know exactly who they were and what they were doing—and how it related to the murders of his parents and his sister.

All of which he might have discovered if not for the woman who’d ruined his plans.

He’d assumed the trespassers were dangerous, as dangerous as the smugglers almost a quarter century before had been. This morning, the way they’d chased this stranger after she’d witnessed their activities confirmed his fears.

The first round of smugglers had been ruthless. He guessed this latest round was no less so. If he hadn’t been there, they’d probably have killed her.

One more senseless murder he could’ve prevented.

At least this time, he’d acted, even though in the acting, he’d ducked right back into hiding.

Having this stranger in his arms had done something wonky to his brain. Or, more to the point, his body. She curved in all the right places, smelling of salty air and coconut shampoo and…

And that line of thinking needed to stop. Now.

Regardless how perfect she’d felt against him, she’d ruined what would probably be his best opportunity to find the people who’d murdered his family.

Nothing else mattered.

Nothing else would ever matter.

The tiny sliver of light that’d cut through the darkness at the mouth of the cave was long gone.

The space, narrow enough that his shoulders bumped the walls on both sides, was darker than the darkest night, with no stars or moon to lead the way.

It’d been chilly outside. In here, it was cool, but in a different way, as if the coldness had settled in millennia past and no warmth would ever reach it.

To Forbes, everything about it felt familiar. It was amazing how much he remembered, considering the years since he’d been here last. He didn’t need light to know where he was going. He bent to keep from bashing his head on the low ceiling and felt his way forward.

Maybe it would’ve been kinder to illuminate the path for his frightened trespasser, but he wasn’t feeling particularly kind at the moment.

“Ouch.” She stumbled, bumping into his backside.

“Quiet.” He winced at his own demanding tone.

“I’m fine.” She matched his vehement whisper with one of her own. “Thanks for asking.”

He felt his lips tick up at the corners, an odd sensation. When was the last time he’d smiled?

They reached the end of the natural cave lined with rough walls that elbowed out to jab and scrape unsuspecting victims and moved into the passageway that had smoother walls and a higher ceiling. This extension of the sea-carved cave was man-made.

Forbes had once believed it’d been carved out for him and Rosie. When he was young and innocent and thought the world was a beautiful place filled with adventure, this cave had been the scene of countless games of hide-and-seek and treasure hunts and pirate adventures.

He was wiser now.

He’d learned that danger lurked beneath the surface of the most beautiful places.

Ahead of him, black turned to variations of dark and shadow.

He turned a corner, bent low, and climbed the last ten yards or so toward the light, finally emerging into the dove-gray morning.

The sun had been up for approximately fifteen minutes, and his day was already ruined, thanks to the woman who climbed out behind him, brushing dust from her skinny jeans and her bright yellow oversized top, which had big, white flowers on it.

The woman dressed like summertime. She took special care brushing sand from the bag she’d gripped throughout her attempted escape as if it held the royal jewels.

She turned back to study the cave’s entrance, a nearly hidden crack between boulders that nobody would ever suspect hid just one of many secrets on this property.

It’d still been dark when he’d watched her running for her life, no more than a silhouette against the rising sun.

When she turned back toward him now, her image far outshone the one he’d conjured in his head to match the tall, shapely body.

He’d noticed her cheerful top—it was impossible to miss.

He studied her dark brown hair, which hung from a braid draped over one shoulder.

Escaped tendrils curled around high cheekbones and eyes the color of the morning sky.

The morning sky?

He was channeling his prep school British Lit professor, who could wax philosophical about cafeteria lunches.

“You good?” he asked.

She was staring through the trees at the house.

When he was a kid, the old three-story Victorian hadn’t been special. It’d simply been home.

After so many years away, he saw it with fresh eyes. Light-colored brick, steep roof with rounded shingles and gingerbread trim. Hexagonal turrets, eleven chimneys—fireplaces in every room, though most not functional now—and more gables than he’d ever bothered to count.

It was beautiful—if one could look past the peeling paint and sagging porches.

“It’s like we’re in another world.” The woman’s words were breathy with awe.

“A world five hundred feet from the one we just left. Come on.”

He wouldn’t hate it if she didn’t follow. The last thing he needed was to get distracted.

But he was afraid those men were still looking for her.

The gravity of the situation was dawning on him, and the truth was much darker than the sun brightening the summer day.

“Stay low and move fast.” He stepped out from between the trees, ducked to ensure he wouldn’t be spotted from the shore below, and bolted to the nearest side of the house. He tapped the code to unlock the door, pulled it open, then stood aside to let her enter first.

She looked at Forbes, then at the steep staircase leading down into darkness almost as thick as the cave’s. Licked her lips, which brought a reaction he was trying very hard to ignore. “Maybe I’ll just…uh…” She backed away as if he might be a threat.

He could let her fend for herself.

But now she knew about the cave. She knew Forbes was here.

He needed to figure out how to get her not to tell the whole town what she knew.

“Look, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it already.”

She blinked big, terrified eyes, taking another step back.

“You can trust me.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ford. Ford Baker.” Ironic, asking for her trust as he gave her his alias. But he’d used it most of his life, even if he’d never forgotten who he really was. “What’s your name?”

“Brooklynn Wright.” Reluctantly, she shook his hand.

“What were you doing out there?” He jutted his chin toward the ocean.

She hugged her bright purple canvas backpack to her chest. “I’m a photographer.”

As if that answered the question.

“I bet those guys are still looking for you.”

She darted a glance toward the woods, then in the direction of the driveway before meeting his eyes. “What were you doing there?”

“Taking a walk.”

She squinted. “I’d have seen you. You were in the cave. How did you know I was there? How did you know about the cave? Why would you?—?”

“Are you coming or not?” He didn’t owe her explanations, and he wasn’t going to force her into his house.

But he had a job to do, and she could ruin everything.

“If you want to risk those guys catching you, go ahead, but I’d rather keep my presence here secret.

So if you decide to leave and somehow manage to survive, keep the cave—and my presence—to yourself. ”

“Why?”

He blew out a long breath and crossed his arms, giving the door a pointed look.

He didn’t miss the fear in her expression.

“I use this door because it’s close.” And hidden from the driveway and from the shore, but he didn’t say that. No need to arouse more suspicion.

Forget that he’d just saved her life. Forget that she’d likely be dead if not for him. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to garner her trust.

“If you’d rather”—he kept his tone even despite his annoyance—“I can go in and open the front door for you. But then you’d be out here alone, and if anybody happened by…” He shrugged, letting the implication hang between them. “You decide.”