The Texan's Contested Claim: The Texan's Contested Claim / The Greek Tycoon's Secret Heir. Katherine Garbera
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He twisted around to switch on the bedside lamp, then slumped back against the headboard, scowling. “Sorry,” he muttered, then glanced over at her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“N-no. Scared me plenty, though.” Realizing the skill and strength required to accomplish a move like the one he’d just performed, she asked, “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Self-defense class.” His scowl deepened. “When your life has been threatened as many times as mine, you take what precautions you can.”
“Threatened?” she repeated.
“Yes, threatened.” He slanted her a look. “Why were you sneaking around in my room, anyway?”
“I’d remind you it’s my room, but we’ve got more pressing matters to worry about.”
“Like what?”
“Like the men outside.”
He shot up from the bed and ran to peer out the window.
The sight of him standing there in nothing but black silk boxer shorts was almost enough to make her forget about the men she’d seen skulking around outside.
Almost.
“You can’t see them from there,” she told him. “They’re out front. On the street side of the rock wall.”
He dove across the bed for the lamp and switched it off, plunging the room into darkness.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
He clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shh,” he whispered. “We don’t want them to know we’re awake.”
She shoved his hand away. “Why not?”
“If they think we’re asleep and unaware of their presence, hopefully they’ll stay where they are and wait for daylight before approaching the house.”
“But I thought you didn’t want them here?” she said in confusion.
“I don’t.” He dropped his elbows to his knees and his head to his hands. “We’ve got to think of a way to get out of here without them seeing us.”
“We? As in you and me?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Sorry, buddy. But I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You have no choice.”
“Oh, I have lots of choices,” she informed him. “The most obvious is staying right here in my own house.”
“You can’t. It’s no longer safe.”
The somberness of his tone turned her blood to ice. “What do you mean, it’s not safe? We’re talking men toting cameras here, not Uzis.”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said hesitantly. “I wasn’t completely honest with you about why I wanted my presence here kept a secret.”
She dropped her head back with a moan. “I really hate middle of the night confessions.”
“My life’s been threatened.”
She snapped her head back up to stare. “Somebody wants you dead?”
“It appears that way.”
“But…why?”
“If I knew that, I’d probably know who wanted to kill me.”
“And you think whoever that person is, is outside my house right now?”
“No. I’m fairly confident it’s only photographers out there. But once they make my presence here known,” he added, “I can almost promise you the person who threatened me will come here looking for me.”
She stared, trying to make sense of what he was telling her, then held up a hand. “Wait a minute. Just because somebody wants you dead, doesn’t mean I’m in danger.”
“I’m afraid it does. If he comes here and finds me gone, he may take you.”
“Me?” She choked a laugh. “Like anyone would want me,” she said wryly.
“He would, if he thinks you’re important to me.”
Her heart faltered, then kicked hard against her chest. “You mean he might use me as a hostage?”
“It’s possible and it’s a chance I’m not willing to take.”
Vivid images of every movie or news clip she’d seen involving hostages filled her mind. And not a one of them were pretty. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re getting out of here.” He rolled off the bed and snatched up his jeans, tugged them on. “I’m going upstairs to pack my stuff and make some phone calls. You’ll need to pack a bag, too. Enough to hold you for a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks!” she cried. “I can’t be gone a couple of weeks!”
“Hopefully you won’t be,” he told her. “And no lights,” he warned, as he headed for the door. “We don’t want them to suspect we’re up to anything.”
Garrett took the rear stairs two at a time and broke into a run when he reached the second floor. Getting out of Austin was imperative, but where to go was a problem. He couldn’t call for his private jet. It would take too much time for his pilot to fly to Texas. Public transportation was out, as it made him too visible. That meant finding some place close to hide out for a while, somewhere no one would think to look for him.
He knew of only one place that fit his needs: his stepmother’s son’s ranch.
Muttering a curse, he paced his room. He didn’t want to call Jase. Calling him meant explaining where he was, what he was up to, and his stepmother had made them promise they wouldn’t search for Ali, that they would respect her request for privacy and leave her alone.
But he hadn’t promised, he reminded himself. Jase and Eddie, Jase’s father, had promised.
Admonishing himself of any guilt for his actions, he pulled his cell phone from his briefcase and scrolled through the address book until he found Jase’s home number.
Mandy, Jase’s wife, answered on the second ring.
“Hello?” she said sleepily.
“Mandy, it’s Garrett.”
“Well, hey, Garrett,” she said, sounding surprised to hear from him. “What are you doing calling me in the middle of the night?”
“I’m in a jam. Is Jase there?”
“He’s in Washington visiting his mother. Haven’t you seen him?”
“No,