Secret Defender

By Debbi Rawlins

AN HEIRESS TO PROTECT

Luke Boudreau was a man unlike any other and he would stop at nothing to keep Sydney Wainwright safe even if it meant kidnapping the headstrong heiress. Only, the tough–as–nails investigator never anticipated that a daring double cross would send him and Sydney on the run.

Now, uncovering the threat to Sidney's life lay in the clues to a perilous puzzle that only brought the two closer together. Though Luke knew he should keep his professional distance, his feelings for the young beauty became increasingly personal. And now, evading the determined killer on their trail seemed easier than resisting Sydney .

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Jul 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781460855010

Debbi Rawlins

Debbi has written over 50 books for Harlequin since 1994, in several different lines including: Harlequin American, Harlequin Intrigue, Love & Laughter, Duets and Harlequin Blaze. She lives in rural, beautiful Utah with far too many rescued cats and dogs. Although she hasn't lived there for years, she still misses her home state of Hawaii. She's currently working on a western Blaze series, one of her favorite genres.

Book preview

Chapter One

Sign the papers and die.

Sydney Wainwright stared at the bold black letters on the sheet of white paper. Her hands no longer trembled like they had when she’d received the first two threats. She’d been fearful then; now, she was angry.

She wadded up the note and then slipped it in the top drawer of her desk, way in the back where no one would see it. Better that Willard and her brother didn’t know she’d received another one. They’d already accused her of not taking the threats seriously enough.

They thought she should disappear for a while, go to France or Rio, or take a cruise. No way was she running scared. She’d finally taken control of her life. She wouldn’t give it up that easily.

After locking the desk, she grabbed her purse and headed down the hall. She had half an hour to make it to her hair appointment. That gave Willard only two minutes to complain about her venturing out alone.

He was such a dear man, a trusted and loyal friend of the family forever, but he’d become too protective since her parents’ death. He kept forgetting she wasn’t a child anymore.

She stopped outside his office and knocked briefly before opening the door. Rick was sitting across from Willard’s desk. They abruptly stopped talking when they saw her. Then her brother slid Willard a cryptic glance, which made her uneasy.

Hey, what are you two doing? Conspiring against me? She grinned, and Rick looked away.

On your way to lunch? Willard eyed the Chanel bag slung over her shoulder.

Rick immediately stood. I was just on my way out, too. Let’s go together.

She gave him a bland look. Subtle, Rick. She aimed her gaze to include Willard. I’m going to quit telling you guys when I leave the building if you keep acting this way.

What? Rick had the affronted-big-brother look down pat already. I’m not supposed to break for lunch?

She held back, instead of blasting him like she wanted to. She liked Rick, but she’d only known him for a year. It wasn’t as if he’d been the big brother she’d run to all her life, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings either. His lips curved in a wry smile. He’d learned to read her quickly. Go ahead, tell me to butt out. I can take it.

Okay. Sydney smiled back. Butt out.

He shook his head. Look, I know it’s hard to take, me showing up suddenly, claiming I’m your half brother. I also know Willard had me checked out down to the kind of boxers I wear before he welcomed me into the fold.

Willard didn’t even blink. The attorney in him worried about her inheritance, the father in him worried about her, period. He made no apology.

Sydney chuckled. Boring white…maybe a pair of paisley once in a while. Am I right?

Rick didn’t smile. You can’t keep treating these threats lightly, Syd. It’s kind of nice having a sister, and I’d like to see you make it to your twenty-fifth birthday. Let Willard arrange for some protection until Wainwright Corporation is legally turned over to you.

Sighing, she wandered over to the window, laid her forehead against the glass and stared idly out at the Dallas skyline. Turning twenty-five should mean all a girl had to worry about was if her next date might be Mr. Right. Or whether it was time to switch to Oil of Olay.

Not worrying about gaining control of a multimillion-dollar company or division buyouts or union organizers getting ticked off because they might lose their foothold. Sydney understood the pitfalls of having that much responsibility and power, but no way did she believe the union would resort to murder. It didn’t make sense.

She turned back to the earnestness in Rick’s eyes. Hard to believe he was her brother. Physically, they were opposites. His eyes were blue, his hair dark blond, while she was boring brown all the way.

She pushed away from the window. I’m not going to live in fear. I had to do that half my life. I won’t do it anymore.

This is different.

You don’t understand. Their gazes met and hers quickly skittered away.

As her father’s bastard child, Rick had grown up poor while she’d been privileged with the Wainwright name and wealth. At times, guilt gnawed at her. She wasn’t to blame for her father’s shortcomings, of course, and Rick never showed resentment toward her. But the sad reality pricked her sense of fairness.

Rick snorted. You’re right. I don’t understand living in fear of being kidnapped because I had a rich daddy who’d pay my ransom, but dammit, these threats are real. This isn’t about speculation or a mere precaution. Take it seriously. Err on the side of caution, for Willard’s and my sake, if not for your own.

Emotion suddenly threatened. There was no bitterness in her brother’s tone. He was truly worried. After the first threat, he’d slipped into protective mode, always asking her where she was going and what time he should expect her back.

Still, it wasn’t as if she was being foolish about her safety. She’d taken a self-defense course, and she never went out alone at night. Nothing was likely to happen in broad daylight. Anyway, she refused to hand over her whole life to whoever was behind these threats.

Willard had been eerily quiet and Sydney finally chanced a look at him. He stared at her over steepled fingers. Lines of tension etched his face. She was partly responsible for putting them there. Her decision to split up the company was causing some havoc, but in the long run, she knew everyone would be better off.

He’d changed since her parents’ death. He worked harder, was at the office all the time. He’d assumed full responsibility for both the business and Sydney, even though she constantly assured him she did just fine on her own. Willard needed the break. He’d enjoy retirement. He already had plenty of money, and once Sydney was through, he’d have more than he could spend in three lifetimes.

I’ll think about it. She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. But right now, I have to run or I’ll be late.

Where are you going?

None of your business. And I mean that in the nicest way.

Rick shook his head and slowly got to his feet. He looked tired. He’d been working nonstop trying to learn about the company, and now he was worrying about her.

Impulsively she gave him a peck on the cheek. I really will think about taking a short vacation.

His mouth curved in a cynical smile. Want me to drive you to wherever you’re going?

No, thanks.

Rick grunted and looked at Willard. I’ll get you a sandwich.

Willard nodded, but said nothing until Rick left. Where are you going, Sydney?

She sighed at his impatient tone. I have a hair appointment at Divas.

He didn’t look pleased. Don’t forget we have a board meeting tonight, he said, while adjusting the cuffs of his custom-made Egyptian cotton shirt.

Tonight? Sydney frowned. I thought it was tomorrow night.

It’s on your calendar.

Yeah, but I thought it was… She shook her head. I’ll be here.

If you have something else planned, I could—

No, I was only going to have dinner with Jeff, but we can change it to tomorrow night.

At the mention of the attorney’s name, Willard’s gray brows came down. You’re still seeing him?

Still? We’ve only had four dates.

I don’t like him. He’s a social climber. Probably more interested in your trust fund than you.

Thanks.

Get that phony wounded look off your face. You know the pitfalls of being in your position. I’m only looking out for your interest, and I tell you, I don’t trust the man.

You don’t trust anyone. The flippant tone she used belied the heaviness in her chest. Willard was wrong. The wounded look wasn’t phony at all. She knew he could be right. It wouldn’t be the first time a man was more interested in her bottom line than her own bottom.

Good thing, young lady. You’re too naive.

Sydney made a face. I’m going to forgive you for being so grumpy and overbearing because I know you have my best interest at heart. But like it or not, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. She blew him a kiss. I’ve got to run, but I’ll be back in plenty of time for the meeting.

How are you getting there?

She gave him a tolerant smile and left his office before he bombarded her with more questions she had no intention of answering. Besides, he’d have a cow if he found out she’d been taking cabs around town.

It was just so freeing to finally be able to make her own decisions about where she went and how she got there. It didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate his and Rick’s concern. In fact, it had always been Willard and her mother who’d been there for her as a child. Her father had cared for her, in his own self-absorbed way, but it was her mother, Inga, who’d made sure Sydney had all the love and emotional support a child needed to grow up without prejudice or fear and with a keen sense of fairness.

It was the latter that ironically appeared to be getting Sydney into trouble. In her opinion, Wainwright Corporation had become too large, after having gobbled up smaller companies. When one of the senior vice presidents had approached her to allow him and two other executives to buy out their divisions, Sydney agreed and put the same offer on the table to all other division heads.

That’s when the shit hit the fan. Willard told her she was insane. Her brother suggested she not be so impulsive. The union leaders threatened blood would be shed if they were ousted from the Wainwright factories. It all had gotten so complicated, when all she wanted to do was get a tan and count on a date every Saturday night.

The elevator dinged the moment she pressed the button and when the doors slid open, Jeff walked out with a florist’s box of long-stemmed pink roses cradled in his left arm.

He smiled when he saw her. I was coming by to see you. He eyed her purse. On your way out?

She nodded, her gaze falling to the roses. I have an appointment.

Have time to put these in water? He leaned in for a kiss.

She gave him her cheek and then ducked his look of disappointment. She wasn’t comfortable with public displays of affection…and certainly not at the office. May I assume they’re for me?

He lowered a lazy gaze to the roses. Possibly.

She gave him a jab to the ribs that made him grunt. Sorry, I didn’t hear you.

Jeff laughed and passed her the box.

She smiled, genuinely touched that he had come across town to hand deliver them. Actually, I’m late, but Margaret will take care of getting them in water. Hey, take a ride with me uptown. We can talk along the way.

He held up the briefcase in his right hand. Sorry, but I’ve got an appointment on the tenth floor in fifteen minutes.

Oh. So he hadn’t made a special trip. It didn’t make the gesture any less sweet.

The elevator doors opened again and Jeff reclaimed the flowers. Go. I’ll give these to Margaret.

She slipped into the car before the doors closed again. Oh, about dinner tonight. I have a board meeting. Can we make it tomorrow night?

He shrugged. Sure. I’ll call.

The doors closed, but not before she saw annoyance enter his eyes. That barely fazed her. However, she wasn’t that disappointed about tonight. Which did bother her.

Jeff was nice looking with a good sense of humor. He was smart, a good dresser, had a terrific job with a prestigious law firm. But deep down, she knew he wasn’t The One.

And dammit. She wasn’t getting any younger.

SYDNEY DASHED INTO the chic salon to find Julie looking at the clock. There was no missing the woman. Her hair was shockingly red and her purple spandex dress so tight it left nothing to the imagination. She had the figure to pull it off, though. When Sydney had first met her in prep school, Julie’s hair had been brown and she’d been a little chubby. Now, she looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of Cosmo.

Julie put her hands on her hips as soon as she saw Syd. You’re late.

Only four minutes. Sydney moved her hand from behind her back. And only because I stopped to get you this.

Julie’s black-rimmed green eyes lit up at the sight of the iced mocha latte and she quickly snatched it out of Syd’s hand. Okay, I forgive you.

Gee, thanks. Sydney stashed her purse on a shelf next to Julie’s blow-dryer and then took a seat in front of the mirror. She stared at her drab hair color and noticed her complexion was pretty dull, too. She needed to apply more of that self-tanning stuff.

I hope you’ve cleared at least two hours this afternoon. Julie shook out a black cape and draped it over Syd, and then frowned. Maybe you ought to wear a smock today.

Two hours? For a trim?

I decided to put in some highlights. Julie picked up a lock of Syd’s hair and inspected it with pursed lips. I think a nice light ash blond will work.

You decided? She laughed, and jerked her head away. I’m not ready for highlights. Besides, I don’t have the time.

Bull. Julie brought out a tube of hair color and squirted it into a silver bowl. Hey, when are you going to introduce me to that brother of yours?

Syd sighed. I honestly don’t have time.

Julie stopped mixing to give her a sour look. So, what—you think I’m not good enough for the heir apparent?

I didn’t deserve that remark. Syd stiffened. Anyway, I meant I don’t have time for the highlights.

The other woman blinked and, muttering a curse, ducked her head. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.

But that’s what you think. She tried to keep the hurt from her voice, but she failed. Miserably, by the look of alarm on Julie’s face.

I don’t. Honest. Julie shook her head and put down the bowl. Not you, of all people. You took me under your wing when none of the other girls would give me the time of day. She ignored Sydney’s dismissive wave. I’ve never forgotten that, Syd. I swear to God. I’m having a shitty day and I took it out on you.

That’s okay. No problem. Sydney shrugged it off. It really wasn’t a big deal.

Shaking her head, Julie busied herself with mixing and stirring the color. She was still angry with herself, Sydney could tell by the jerky motions she used. Self-reproach was a habit Julie had established early.

Sydney vividly remembered the day they’d met. Julie had been outgoing, full of joie de vivre. They’d both turned fifteen that summer, and Julie had just moved to Plano after her mother had married a prominent attorney she’d met at a restaurant where she waited tables. Life had changed instantly for them.

They’d traded their beat-up, ten-year-old VW for a bronze Mercedes and moved from a one-bedroom apartment downtown to a twenty-room mansion. Next, Julie’s stepfather enrolled her in the same prep school as Sydney, whose snotty classmates had been less than kind.

Julie looked up suddenly, her smile returning. You’re good people, Syd, even if you are filthy rich.

Gee, thanks.

Julie laughed. Remember Samantha Bellamy?

Please. Sydney sighed. Don’t even bring her up.

Friggin’ snob. Treated me as though I had some kind of contagious disease. Wouldn’t invite you to her birthday party if you took me, and you told her to go to hell. She grunted. Your daddy had more money than all the rest of those goddamn snobs put together.

Can we change the subject?

Julie thoughtfully studied the color she’d mixed. I’d like to get her in my chair for a couple of hours. Maybe I could send her an offer for a free color.

Sydney laughed. Don’t even think about it.

At least Julie had developed a sense of humor over the whole mess. True, it had been years ago, but the girls had been exceptionally cruel. Sydney simply had been embarrassed. She’d thought she knew those girls, considered several of them among her friends…until she saw how ugly they could be.

She and Julie had become fast friends from that moment on and did everything together. At the close of their senior year everything changed.

Julie’s fairy-tale life ended with her mom and stepfather’s divorce, and she landed back across the tracks. Not only that, but Julie had changed. She seemed bitter and hateful, claiming it was her fault but never explaining why.

Sydney had her own theories about the stepfather’s inordinate affection for Julie, but Julie refused to talk about it. In fact, she eventually failed to return Sydney’s phone calls and headed to California.

Julie set the bowl of color aside and put her hands on her hips. When I get through with you, you are going to look so hot, girlfriend.

Sydney frowned. What if I don’t like it? Will you be able to dye it back to my natural color?

Back to this mousy brown? Why the hell would you want to do that?

I wish you wouldn’t be so coy about your feelings.

Julie laughed. You have nondescript brown hair. That’s not exactly front-page news.

I’m serious, Jules. What if I hate it?

You won’t. Julie pinched several strands of Sydney’s hair and inspected them.

Oh, God, she had a board meeting to attend. She didn’t want to go looking like some… She jerked when Julie picked up a small paintbrush and put it near Sydney’s hair.