And it was a damn important reason.
He watched their SUV drive away, Alexa in the passenger seat talking earnestly to her fiancé.
Her fiancé. The man who had a right to kiss her like that. Cole had to remind himself of that little fact over and over, allow it to slice away at all the corners inside him that had eroded every time he had allowed himself, over the past couple of years, to think of Alexa. He needed every edge within him to be hard and sharp now.
He hadn’t planned on running into her just yet, but the chance meeting had worked to his advantage. And he would need a lot of advantages here to achieve all he had to.
She’d apparently thought she knew him—then realized her mistake. He hadn’t expected her to think he was Cole Rappaport, not with all the reconstruction done on his face after the explosion. It made disguise unnecessary.
Still, there was just the smallest bit of hurt clenching at his guts—hurt that had nothing to do with the residual, persistent pain from his injuries. A closer look had told her he wasn’t Cole. She hadn’t recognized him.
With an irritated snort, he lifted his cell phone from its stand on the console and pressed a single button.
“Bowman,” said the familiar, curt voice at the other end.
“It’s me. I’ve got a room reserved at the Hideaway By The Lake.” Cole hated talking on cell phones; they weren’t secure. There was a lot more he could say to his boss and mentor, Forbes Bowman—the man who had saved his life—but this wasn’t the time.
“Great” came the reply. “You have fun, hear? And check in now and then so I know you’re still alive.” The words, delivered in a hearty, amiable tone, could have been one friend talking to another. But Cole knew they were serious.
“Thanks,” he said. “Are you still looking into that sales data I asked for?”
“Yep,” Forbes replied. “I’ll pass it on when I get it.”
Of course the information Cole had requested had nothing to do with sales—and everything to do with his work here. “Later,” he finished. He pushed the End button and replaced the phone in its slot.
Since there was no lodge he needed to check out of, he had time to kill before showing up at the Hideaway By The Lake. He started the engine and drove around the Skytop Lake Village shopping center until he located a small convenience store. He got out and went inside.
Good. In a quiet corner far from the checkout stand, there was a public phone. It would, he hoped, suit his purposes later, when he wouldn’t trust the cell phone for what he needed to report to Forbes.
He glanced at his watch.
Soon it would be time for him to check in. To see Alexa and Vane on their home turf. To delve into the secrets they had kept from him two years ago, and the secrets they were keeping now.
Then, the fun would begin.
Chapter Two
Alexa carried the last bag of groceries into her professional gourmet kitchen. “Thanks, Minos,” she said to the man in the sleeveless T-shirt and torn jeans who had helped her.
Vane had disappeared as soon as they had pulled into the inn’s garage. Alexa figured he’d gone to socialize with some of the guests. He was good at that.
“No problem,” Minos said, hefting two bulging plastic bags onto the tile counter with ease. The short man with the large muscles looked at her with stern brown eyes beneath thick, dark brows, as though expecting her to say something else. To do something he would consider reportable to Vane.
Alexa hid her shudder. Between Minos and Vane, she felt under surveillance every moment of every day. She should be watching them. Not to mention all of the inn’s guests, every one of them here, she was certain, for some undivulged but nefarious purpose.
She’d seen similar deceitfulness before.
And when she had, the consequences had been unimaginably dire. Her parents had nearly lost their freedom.
She had irrevocably, horribly, lost Cole.
Minos hadn’t moved. At least he couldn’t stare into her thoughts. She swallowed her sigh. “I’m going to be starting dinner now,” she said with feigned cheerfulness. “If you want to hang around, I’ll put you to work mincing onions.”
“I’ve got things to do,” he said irritably.
She was certain he did—whatever Vane assigned to him. And Alexa was sure none of it would benefit the inn. Or her.
Or the world.
As Minos left, Alexa considered her duties of the moment. She did have to start cooking. She also had to make sure a room was ready for her new guest.
John O’Rourke. He seemed like a nice enough man. A home improvements salesman.
Why had he reminded her of Cole?
Well, she knew just how much good wishful thinking had done her. Zilch.
No knight in shining armor would come to save her from her dilemma. No Cole Rappaport, or even a surrogate, would arrive to make things right.
She would have to do it herself.
She had already tried once to run to the authorities. Mistake! She had learned a valuable lesson about who had more credibility: Vane or her. It wasn’t her.
And Vane had shown her then how he still could ruin her parents’ lives. Her life, too—even more than it already had been ruined.
Her options were limited, but she did have options.
She hoped.
PULLING THE CAR over to a curb, Cole glanced again at the directions Alexa had given him, then back up.
There it was, the Hideaway By The Lake. It was a large Swiss-style chalet with a peaked roof. The rails around the wide second-floor balcony were cut out in a uniform, gingerbread pattern.
Between the house and its neighbor was a tall bougainvillea hedge that lent privacy. Beyond, he glimpsed glistening blue water. A vacant lot next door was crowded with white pine trees.
“Nice,” he grumbled. He’d had no doubt that it would be.
Alexa had had good taste. Or so he had believed, until he had learned of her perfidy. Her betrayal.
And her engagement to Vane Walters.
Cole instinctively studied the rest of the street. Residential. Lined with resort-style houses of varying sizes— A-frames, small stucco haciendas—and all well-maintained. Not too close together, and a lot of secluding landscaping in between.
Plenty of places for someone to hide, though from what he gathered, no one was bothering to stay out of sight.
Just like last time.
Exiting
