He Can Fall: She Can Series (2 page)

Sean turned the SUV into the private drive. He took his wife’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and kissed her knuckles. “It’s nice to get away. You’re sure you don’t mind that this is a working trip?”

At the end of a tree-lined drive, the newly renovated luxury resort and spa, The Hideaway, sat on a wooded slope. Fifteen miles from its nearest neighbor, the small inn was exclusive, luxurious, and isolated. Cedar and glass, the structure blended into the Adirondacks as if it had grown there. Snow coated the trees that flanked the driveway. Behind the building, a frozen private lake sprawled. Moonlight glittered white on the ice. On the opposite side, a few thousand acres of state forest covered the mountainside.

“It is.” Amanda smiled wide. “I don’t mind at all. I’m going to curl up in front of the fire and read all weekend. Too bad the spa isn’t open yet.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be leaving you alone all weekend.” He glanced sideways. Every inch of his wife was more beautiful than when they had married ten years ago. “Testing the system is a half-day job at best. Plus, Glenn said his new chefs wanted to use us as guinea pigs. The resort is scheduled to open in just a few weeks.”

The weather report came over the radio. Amanda turned up the volume. “Ooh. It’s going to snow tonight.”

“Only six inches.” But it would be even colder up here in New York State than it was at home. He wanted to fly to the Bahamas for a long weekend, but that would have to wait for another time. Romantic getaways were few and far between. He’d take what he could get. Between the success of their home security system business and the girls’ ridiculously busy calendars, getting away alone with his wife was as complicated as conducting a mission behind enemy lines back when he’d been an army Ranger.

“Which isn’t enough to be a hassle and just enough to be romantic.”

“We hardly need any more romance. Just opportunity.” Sean was still head over ass in love with his wife, but if she wanted more romance, he’d give it to her. He squeezed her hand. “Just opportunity. And it snows in Westbury all the time.” They lived a couple hours south, in northeastern Pennsylvania.

“We don’t have a fireplace in our bedroom or two uninterrupted evenings back home.” Amanda picked at a fingernail. “Maybe we’ll have better luck with a little quiet time.”

Sean squeezed her hand. With their youngest off to first grade, Amanda had suffered an acute attack of baby fever. “You have a point, but we’ve only been trying for a couple of months.”

“It didn’t take a couple of months with either of the girls. I hope we didn’t wait too long. I’m not young anymore.”

“Thirty-five is hardly geriatric.” Sean brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them again. “It’ll be OK. You need to relax about the whole thing. Another baby would be great, but if it doesn’t happen, we have two gorgeous girls. I am totally happy either way.”

“This whole trip is about relaxing.” She smiled. “Maybe the lack of stress will help.”

“Regardless, I’m going to enjoy having you to myself for a couple of days.” He loved his two little girls with all his heart, and he was thrilled his wife wanted to add another baby to the mix. But his house was always full of kids. Neighbors, friends, Brownies, cousins…Sometimes Sean felt like they were living in a day-care center instead of a house. Being a father was better than he’d ever imagined, but was it a sin to want a couple of days alone with his wife? He wasn’t complaining, but he was looking forward to sex that wasn’t of the hushed and hurried type. He had ideas that involved his naked wife, no interruptions, and plenty of time. “At least that ice storm is staying to the west.”

The SUV bounced down the driveway. The radio station switched to a news report. “A manhunt continues in Maine after four men robbed an Augusta liquor store, murdered the store manager, and took the twenty-two-year-old female clerk hostage just after eleven p.m. last night. A customer witnessed the suspects forcing the young woman into a silver Buick LeSabre at gunpoint. The vehicle was found abandoned ten miles north of the crime scene. It’s assumed the suspects had another vehicle waiting. Police are conducting roadblocks and vehicle stops across northern Maine, hoping to stop the men before they reach the Canadian border.” The newscaster described the suspects and noted that they were armed and dangerous.

“That poor girl.” Amanda frowned. “I would think the border patrol would catch them if they try to cross over.”

“It’s impossible to cover all that wilderness.” Sean slowed the SUV and steered around a deep rut in the lane. “Plus, it’s going to be tough to find them without a vehicle description.”

“It will, but that’s enough news.” Amanda switched off the radio. “No more communicating with the outside world. It’s too distracting.”

“You’re right.” Sean lifted his phone. “Look, no bars.”

Amanda grinned back at him. “I know. Isn’t it exciting?”

“The inn has wireless Internet,” he pointed out.

“Which you promised not to access unless it was an emergency.” Amanda gave him a bossy look that was really hot.

How fast could they get to their room?

“I did.” Sean pocketed his cell.

He drove around to the back of the inn and parked in the lot. His duffel bag fit under one arm. He hefted his wife’s wheeled suitcase. She chronically overpacked, her love of clothes a carryover from her former career as a model. “What did you pack in here? You know you’re not going to need much in the way of clothes.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she laughed. “There are a few items I thought you might like.” She climbed the wide wooden steps and cast a seductive look over her shoulder.

Nice.

Sean hurried to catch up. Tall and fit with long auburn hair that fell past her shoulders, Amanda looked like the woman-next-door. Her creamy complexion was prone to blushing, but he was happy to note there wasn’t anything bashful about her, not when it came to him.

Wood and glass dominated the modern, rustic lobby. Furniture was simple and sleek. A white-haired man stood behind a slim mahogany registration desk. Next to him, a little girl sat on a high stool. Around seven, she was about the same age as Sean’s youngest, and she was dressed for the cold weather in a heavy fleece pullover and leggings. Her Ugg-covered feet swung back and forth as she applied crayons to a coloring book. As Sean and Amanda crossed the lobby, the child looked up at them with wide, apprehensive eyes.

The man’s weathered face creased in a smile. He held a hand over a laptop on the desk surface. “Hi, Sean. How are you?”

Sean shook his hand and introduced Amanda.

Glenn clicked his mouse. “I’m testing my reservation system, so would you mind filling out a card?”

“Not at all.”

“Grandpa?” a small voice said.

The child peered around Glenn’s waist. He put an arm around her shoulders. “This is my granddaughter, Mia.”

“Hi, Mia.” Amanda smiled.

Mia turned her head into Glenn’s hip.

He tugged on one of the little girl’s long brown braids. “She’s shy.”

Sean filled out the registration card.

“Here are your keys.” Glenn handed them two white card keys. “Your room is up those stairs, all the way at the end of the hall. You have a great view of the lake. You’ll be well fed this weekend. I do breakfast solo, but my new husband-and-wife chef team is anxious to try out their recipes on you at lunch and dinner. Is nine o’clock all right for breakfast?”

“Nine is perfect. I’m in no rush to get out of bed,” Amanda said.

Glenn grinned. “I’ll be down here with coffee brewing by seven. If you wake up early, just dial nine, and I’ll bring up a pot.”

“Terrific.” Sean handed his wife a key. “After breakfast, I’ll start testing the system. By afternoon, I’ll be ready to go over everything with you.”

“Great. I’ll sleep better at night when it’s up and running.” Glenn looked down at his granddaughter. “Well, it’s already past Mia’s bedtime. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night.” Sean nudged Amanda toward the steps.

In the second-floor hall, they passed a dozen closed doors before they stopped in front of room number six.

“You might be working this weekend, but I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow.” Amanda put the key in the slot.

“Sleep? Who says I’m going to let you sleep?” Sean backed her into the room. He dropped the luggage at the foot of the acre-wide bed piled high with luxurious bedding. He had no interest in the rest of the decor, except to note a possible point of entry or exit: a pair of french doors that opened onto a snowy balcony. “We can sleep at home.”

“Not really,” Amanda laughed. “But don’t worry. I’ve packed a few little surprises.”

Sean’s body tightened. One of the things that kept his decade-long marriage fresh was that his wife liked to mix things up almost as much as he did.

Amanda lifted her suitcase onto the luggage rack. Sean stepped up behind her and pressed his body in close.

“I can’t wait anymore.” Sean bent over her neck. He plucked a few hairpins from her bun. Her hair tumbled down onto her shoulders. Then he nuzzled his way to her sweet spot.

She stifled a low moan and twisted out of his grasp. “Don’t get ahead. I’ve made plans.”

She went to the doors. Turning, she paused. “Why do you think Glenn insisted on such an elaborate security system?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Sean flopped on the bed and put an arm behind his head. “Can’t be too safe.”

“There’s nothing out there for miles.” She closed the blinds.

“Crime isn’t limited to the city, you know.”

“I know, but it still seems odd.”

“Not to me.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “You are the most paranoid man on the planet.”

“Not paranoid, prepared,” he corrected. “It’s my job to protect my family. I take that responsibility very seriously, and Glenn has his reasons for heightened security.”

Amanda swiveled her head to face him.

“Mia.” He answered her silent question. “Glenn was very up front when we first met to discuss his security needs. Glenn and his wife were estranged. He barely knew his daughter, but two years ago Social Services called to tell him his daughter had overdosed and left a child behind. Mia’s father is serving seven to ten for armed robbery. He’s up for parole this spring. Glenn has no idea if he’s interested in Mia, but he doesn’t want to take any chances.”

“I don’t blame him.” Amanda stopped rooting through her bag. “That poor little thing.”

“She’s fine. Glenn has raised her for the past two years, and she’s only seven. She probably doesn’t remember her parents that well.”

“Still…” Amanda’s mouth fell into a frown. “There’s no chance he’ll try to get custody?”

“Considering he used Mia as a lookout while he robbed a convenience store, I doubt that’ll be possible. Glenn isn’t worried about
legal
proceedings.”

“Oh no. Does he think Mia will be in danger?”

“He’s not sure. Mia’s father did a lot of moaning about Glenn’s selfishness when he refused to pay for expensive criminal defense lawyers. I think Glenn was hoping Mia’s dad would get a much longer sentence.”

“That’s awful.” Amanda’s mouth tightened. “I hate to think of anything happening to that sweet child.”

And this was why Sean hadn’t told her about Mia. Amanda couldn’t help empathizing with the child, especially considering his wife’s current emotional, baby-craving state and the fact that their own two girls were very close to Mia in age. Time to change the topic.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I’m waiting to see what you have in the bag.”

She smiled. Mischief lit her eyes to pure wicked.
Better.

“I’ll bet you are.” She unzipped her bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

“I hope you plan to use those on me.” Sean loved kink as much as the next man—OK, more than the average man—but there was no way he could ever lay a hand or leave a mark on his wife. “If you want me to tie you up, I’ll have to find something silk that won’t bruise your pretty skin.” He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “But you know I love the dominatrix look on you.” She also had a cheerleader uniform that made him really hot, but she seemed to be feeling authoritative tonight.

Her smile widened. “I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry. These are for you.” She spun around and gave him a playful shove. “We’re just getting started.”

He let himself fall back on the bed. “You didn’t, by any chance, pack any interesting movies in that bag of yours?”

“Maybe.” Amanda stripped off his shirt, murmuring feminine approval as she swept her palms across his pecs. She snapped a cuff on one of his wrists and fastened it to the iron headboard. “Perfect.”

Sean leaned back, cuffed hand over his head, content to let Amanda have any way she wanted with him. With his free hand he slid the bobby pin into the sheets within easy reach. He was fine with being vulnerable to his wife, but vulnerability in general wasn’t in his makeup. Amanda’s long hair swept across his abs.

He stroked her head with his free hand. “Oh yeah. Perfect.”

Early morning light bathed the room. Amanda rolled over and sighed, snuggling deeper under the thick duvet. Since Sean had left for his morning run, the temperature in bed had dropped ten degrees. Who left a bed this fabulous and went running in the snow? A former army Ranger with physical training burned into his brain, that’s who.

She could hardly complain about the results, though. Her husband had a chiseled body Hollywood stars would envy, and his morning run would energize him and benefit Amanda later.

Coffee in bed. That’s what she wanted. She would curl up in the chair by the balcony, look out over the icy landscape, and drink in peace—a rare treat for a mom with young kids.

She sat up and stretched. Outside, a clear and blustery day dawned. The sky was a pale, bright azure, undimmed by a single cloud. Streaks of sunlight glittered on ice. A few layers of snow had drifted against the french doors. Beyond, the frozen lake was windswept clean. A gust blew powder across the inn’s backyard. It was a perfect day for lounging in front of a blazing fire.

Shivering, she reached to the foot of the bed for the thick spa robe that came with the room. A turn of a knob lighted the gas fireplace. Heat rose from the neat row of flames. She picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. The line rang a dozen times, but no one answered.

Hmm. Sean wouldn’t be back for a half hour. How badly did she want coffee? As badly as oxygen, but she wasn’t going to pester Glenn. They weren’t really paid guests. She’d just slip down to the kitchen and get her own.

She used the bathroom, washed her face, and swept her hair into a messy bun. Stepping into jeans and a sweater, she grabbed her sheepskin boots from the closet and left the room. Downstairs, the lobby was empty.

A door behind the registration desk was labeled “Employees Only.” Amanda knocked softly. No answer. An inexplicable buzz of apprehension started low in her belly.

Something wasn’t right. The place was too quiet.
That’s ridiculous
. Of course it’s quiet. The inn isn’t even open yet.

She glanced to the right at a swinging door. The kitchen? Maybe Glenn was in there. But as she rationalized, that unexplainable, instinctive tension rippled through her bones. Holding her breath, she cracked the door with two fingers. The inch-wide gap revealed a slice of a white-tile-and-stainless-steel commercial kitchen.

Glenn stood in the middle of the space, both hands raised in the classic being-robbed position. “No. Please don’t hurt her.”

“Grandpa—” A child’s thin cry pierced the kitchen.
Mia!

Amanda’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth.

“Then you better do exactly what I say.” The voice was male. Amanda couldn’t see who was talking, but the situation was clear. Whoever he was, he had Mia.

“I’ll do anything,” Glenn said in a voice thick with panic and desperation.

Adrenaline dumped into Amanda’s veins. Her heart sprinted, and sweat broke out under her sweater. Sean. He would fix this. She eased away from the door. She’d go outside and find her husband. Then everything would be all right. Her boots were silent on the carpet as she tiptoed backward.

A hand grabbed her by the neck. It shoved her through the opening and flung her sideways against a wall. Her head smacked Sheetrock. Pain, as sharp and bright as the winter sun, flashed through her head.

An emaciated young man in his early twenties pressed the muzzle of a gun into Amanda’s face. Unyielding metal dug into her cheek. “Hey, Uncle Dennis, get a load of this one.”

Short, spiked platinum hair emphasized huge pupils. His vampire-pale skin was splotched with red and white patches as if he’d been outside in the cold for a long time. Feverishly bright, his eyes shone with the kind of light that comes from chemical stimulation.

“I look at a woman like this, I get all sorts of ideas.” His eyes roamed her breasts. A combination of violation and vulnerability swamped Amanda. She blinked back tears. Instinctively, she knew he’d get off on her pain and fear.

“Well, keep them to yourself, Win,” an authoritative voice said. “Your
ideas
keep screwing up our plans. Now let her go.”

Water dripped from Win’s wet jeans and snow-encrusted skateboard shoes, and he shivered inside a leather jacket obviously not intended for serious outdoor excursions. “Aw, Uncle Dennis, you know how to suck the fun out of everything.” Win released Amanda and stepped back.

Amanda pressed her back into the wall, wishing she could disappear through it. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, and nausea churned in her empty belly as she scanned the room.

“This isn’t about fun, Win,” Uncle Dennis said. “It’s about money. We’re working here. You have to learn to separate business from pleasure.”

There were four gunmen in total. In addition to Win, three older men shivered and dripped in the kitchen, their faces raw with cold. The man Win had called Uncle Dennis held Mia by the arm. In his other hand, he had a handgun pointed at Glenn’s head. On the other side of the room, the remaining men leaned against the wall as if they needed the support.

Glenn was motionless in his hands-up position a few steps in front of his granddaughter. Amanda’s gaze fell on an additional figure. In the far corner of the kitchen, a black-haired young woman stood near the door of the walk-in fridge, her expression blank. She wasn’t armed, and the jacket she was wearing looked masculine and several sizes too big. Melting snowflakes stuck to her hair and shone in the light like glitter.

The news report from the day before jumped into Amanda’s head. Her gaze swept over the four armed men. These were the liquor store robbers. The girl must be the store clerk they’d abducted. The poor girl was probably in shock. Pity raced through Amanda. Why were they here? And what had they done to the clerk during the night?

Amanda refocused on Mia. The child’s body was as frozen as the lake outside, every muscle locked into place. Only her eyes, wild and wide, darted around the room. Her gaze latched onto Amanda’s, begging and panicked. Amanda swallowed her fear. Protective maternal instinct reared up inside her.

“Your uncle knows how to lie low,” the third man admonished. Average height with nondescript brown hair and eyes, his glance at Amanda was sharp and assessing. He held a shotgun with comfort and ease, and his confident posture told her this man was the leader.

“Uncle Dennis, are you gonna let Carl talk to me like that?” Win asked. “Because I’m thinking there are two of us and one of Carl.”

“Win, if you want to get out of this mess, you need to do as Carl says,” Dennis said firmly.

Defiance flashed in Win’s eyes. He lowered the gun, but his reluctance to follow orders was clear in the ugly set of his mouth.

“Damn it, Dennis,” Carl said. “You said we’d only have to deal with the old man and the kid.”

“There shouldn’t be anyone else here.” Dennis scratched his reddened ear with his pinkie finger. “The place isn’t supposed to be open for business yet.”

“Apparently, you were wrong.” Carl pointed his shotgun at Amanda. “You, get over there with her.” He jerked the shotgun barrel toward the clerk across the room.

Carl turned to Glenn. “How many guests are here?”

Glenn swallowed. “Just one couple.” His eyes blinked on Amanda with apology.

“Where’s your husband?” Carl asked her.

“I don’t know,” Amanda lied. “He wasn’t in the room when I woke up. I came down to find him. I thought he might have gone looking for coffee.”

Carl assessed her answer. “Win, go check the registration desk. See how many guests are listed.”

Win ducked out. He returned a few long minutes later. “One couple signed the register. Looks like no one else is coming in for a few more weeks.”

“What gives, old man?” Carl asked.

Please don’t tell him Sean is a security expert.
If they knew,
they’d likely kill him on sight, and surprise would give Sean an edge.

Glenn swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing down a pale throat. “This weekend is a test run for the inn.”

Amanda breathed.

“Perfect. Dennis, you and Win search the place for any missing guests. Lincoln, you take a quick look outside.” Carl pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “There’s no cellular service here. Snip the phone line while you’re out there. I want this place completely cut off.”

“Then what?” Win asked in an insolent tone. He stripped off his sodden leather jacket and hung it on a peg.

Carl swept a knit cap off his head. “The original plan didn’t involve killing the store manager, the van getting stuck in the snow, our two-hour walk in the cold last night, or an ice storm stalled between us and escape. We made it, but I’m cold and wet and hungry. For now, we secure this place, dry off, and get a hot meal. Then we’ll sit down and figure out how we’re going to get to Canada.”

“Sounds good.” Dennis released Mia. “If you move an inch, I’ll shoot your Grandpa.”

She didn’t.

Dennis slipped off his canvas jacket and shook it. Water droplets sprinkled on the kitchen floor. “You sure you can handle this bunch?”

“No problem. No one is going to do anything stupid. They all want to get out of this alive, right?” Carl’s gaze roved from person to person. No one blinked.

Cold blasted through the room when Lincoln went outside. With their outerwear hung to dry, the two blond men left the kitchen. Their footsteps faded. The kitchen occupants were silent and still. Ten or fifteen minutes later, the door swung open, and a couple in their early thirties stumbled into the room. The woman had long red hair and wore a thigh-length pink flannel nightie that skimmed over a five- or six-month-pregnant belly. The husband was shirtless, dressed only in plaid pajama bottoms. Dark-haired and tall, he curled a protective arm around his wife.

“I didn’t find the husband, but I found these two still asleep.” Win came in behind them, nudging the woman with the muzzle of his gun. She flinched and spun to face him. Win smiled, his eyes slowly taking in every inch of her body revealed by the thin fabric of her nightgown. His gaze lingered on her full breasts.

“I thought you said you had only two guests.” Carl glared at Glenn.

“They aren’t guests. They work here.” Glenn’s voice rose with panic. “My cooks.”

“Then why aren’t they in the kitchen cooking?” Carl raised an angry eyebrow.

“They do lunch and dinner. I cook breakfast,” Glenn answered.

Carl grunted, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

Win stepped closer to the woman, grabbing a handful of her sleep-tousled hair and tugging her toward him. Cringing, she whimpered as he pulled her closer. Pain flashed across her face. Eyes watering, she put a hand to her scalp. Win’s eyes brightened, her distress clearly exciting him.

Her husband stepped in front of his wife. “Let her go.”

Win’s mouth split into a grin. He raised the gun and fired. The bullet struck the husband high in the shoulder. His body jerked, and he sank to the floor as blood flowed from the wound.

In the center of the room, Mia covered her eyes with her hands and screamed.

“No!” the wife cried.

Win’s eyes glittered with pleasure.

Mia’s wails echoed off the hard surfaces of the kitchen. Win’s lip curled. Adjusting his grip on the woman’s hair, he turned his gaze on the child. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to hurt them all. Amanda could see anticipation building in his eyes.

“Win, stop,” Carl shouted.

Win shot Carl an angry, rebellious glance. “What if I don’t want to stop?”

“Remember the plan, Win.” Carl softened his voice, placating the unstable younger man. “Tell you what. You do what your uncle and I say, and we’ll let you have one of the women later. You can do whatever you want with her. How’s that?”

“OK, I guess.” Reluctance shone from Win’s eyes, but he released the redhead. She dropped to her knees beside her husband and cradled his head in her hands.

“Your uncle needs help finding the last guest,” Carl suggested.

“OK, but I’m only doing this for Uncle Dennis. You can’t tell me what to do.” Win stomped out of the room.

Carl jerked the barrel of his shotgun toward Glenn. “You, Grandpa, shut that kid up. My ears are bleeding. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll shoot someone else.”

Glenn picked up Mia. Her screams muted to soft sobs and whimpers. Carl grabbed a mug off an upper shelf and poured coffee from a pot on the counter. He drank with a deep, satisfied sigh.

“He’s bleeding a lot. What do I do?” The redhead brushed a hair off her face with a bloody hand, leaving red smears down her fair cheek. Her husband had lost consciousness.

Amanda looked at Carl. “May I?”

He shrugged. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

“Glenn, do you have clean towels?” Amanda asked.

“Yes.” With Mia on his hip, Glenn opened a drawer and pulled out a pile of folded terry cloth. He handed it to Amanda.

She dropped to her knees beside the wounded man and pressed a folded towel to the quarter-size hole in his shoulder. She put the redhead’s hand over the towel. “Put plenty of pressure on this. When it soaks through, don’t move it, just put another towel on top.” Amanda touched the man’s bare chest. His skin was cool and looked pasty. She rocked back on her heels. “We need a blanket. He’ll go into shock.”

Carl laid the shotgun on the counter and wrapped both hands around the mug. “Nobody’s going roaming around the hotel. Make do with what’s here.”

“How about some tablecloths?” Glenn set Mia down. “Stay here for just a minute.” He pulled a pile of pure-white linens from a cabinet and helped Amanda spread them over the bleeding man.

“Will he die?” the redhead asked.

“It’ll be all right,” Amanda lied. There was no way this situation was going to end without violence. Not with these men.

Something crashed overhead.

“Goddamn it.” Carl set down his coffee, picked up his shotgun, and pushed on the door to the hall. He stuck his head through the opening and shouted, “What the fuck is going on?”

Amanda couldn’t discern the muffled response.

“Well, hurry up.” Carl pulled his head back into the room.