Read Fallen Rogue Online

Authors: Amy Rench

Tags: #fiction

Fallen Rogue (5 page)

So he more than trusted his well-honed instincts. And he was honest enough with himself to admit that she tapped something in him. Maybe it was how her resilient strength mixed with her naked candor. Or her terrified gaze mixed with her steely resolve.

“Why help me?” she asked simply, her emerald eyes imploring.

Why, indeed? She’d shocked him with her steadfast
vow to find her brother’s killer. And find out why he was killed. Really, that was what bothered him the most. This woman, Harper, honestly had no idea why her scientist brother would end up a murder victim. Combine that with her frank confusion about what she had to do with it all. Plus, her apprehension about his being a government agent was also puzzling. He wanted answers that she apparently didn’t have or wouldn’t disclose.

Only once had he ever questioned a job before, and that one time had ended in tragedy. But Harper’s bleak fear was real. So was her fierce courage and strength. He needed to know why this beguiling woman was forcing him to doubt his duty.

“Why not help you?” His elusive answer caused her eyes to narrow.

“Before, you said you were taking me in.”

She twisted her hands nervously against the binding, the rope coiling and twisting. Maybe he should remove those now that he’d inexplicably decided to help her.

“Now you want to help me out. I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, but I have an instinct about you,” Rome said, gritting his teeth. He knew it didn’t make sense, but he had a gut feeling about her. And his sharp instincts had never failed him. Even if he hadn’t always listened to them. That was a mistake he would never make again. But that was in the past. The simple fact was something just wasn’t right with this situation. And that hint of a doubt made the decision for him. “Look, Harper, I will help you find your answers. Whether or not you believe it, you do need my help.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” she argued in what was practically a growl. A positively sexy growl. He watched her ball her fists, her knuckles white, her wrists straining against the rope.

Obviously she didn’t know half of the danger she was in, given that he’d been the one called out to bring her in dead or alive. Rome’s reputation was that he always brought in his quarry. By any means. He was called upon for only the most dangerous and critical jobs. Jeff really wanted her for some reason, which was never a good thing.

“Honey, you don’t even know what you’re up against.” Rome shook his head. “Hell, I don’t even know what you’re up against. But I’m ready to find out.”

“How do I know you won’t just take me in later?”

“You don’t.” He shrugged and decided to level with Harper to make her understand that the fact he was sent to apprehend her meant bad things for her. “If I wanted to bring you in, you’d be there by now. I haven’t done that, so you know you can trust me. Believe me, I’m the lesser of two evils.”

She looked as though she was thinking about it, staring at him. Trying to figure out his angle. Clearly she didn’t trust easily. Then again, he couldn’t blame her; he did have her tied up to his sofa.

“Harper.” Rome leaned forward, speaking low. He liked the way her name tasted. “You can trust me.” She looked away. He moved in for the kill. He covered her bound hands with his own, noticing the long powerful fingers flex beneath his. A surprising little shiver crawled up his arm from where their skin touched. Her gaze shot to their hands, as if she felt it, too, then rose to look directly at him. Eyes that swirled like the stormy ocean bore into his soul, wanting to believe, sending a quiver down his spine. “You can trust me.” And he realized that he meant it.

“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” she whispered. Scared. Her hands twisted to grasp his. She was scared. “I need to do this alone. I can’t trust or risk anyone else.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

Rome wasn’t sure what she meant by risking anyone, but he could take care of himself. He wanted to find out what was going on as much as she did. Why a scientist was murdered and this enigmatic woman was being hunted. And he played by his own rules, too.

“You want revenge,” he whispered back. She confirmed this with a slight nod of her dirty, ruffled blonde head. “I want answers. Let’s find both together.” He could barely believe what he was saying. What was making him commit to this woman he knew nothing about and was tasked to bring in as an enemy of the government? Whatever it was, he had a feeling it hinged on her working with him to uncover the truth. Finding himself mesmerized by her powerful green gaze, he nodded back at her, willing her to believe in him. At least enough to find out the truth.

“You won’t take me in?” Her breathless question drew him closer, only an inch or two from her warm, prone body. Rome remembered her firm curves sliding against his body from when they had wrestled in the lab last night.

Removing one of his hands from hers, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his knife. It opened with a crisp
snick,
making her jump. Lifting her hands, he brought the sharp blade around to slice easily through the rope like the finest silk.

“No strings attached.” Rome winked at her startled expression. Smiling, he stood, mentally shaking off the intensity he felt crackling between them. He couldn’t deny the intoxicating pull of her determination and inner strength. “Let me get you something to eat.” He retreated toward the kitchen, listening as she began to untangle his expertly tied rope prison.

“Who are you?” Harper’s husky voice drifted to him just as he reached the edge of the room. Pausing to lean against the wall, he was captivated by the sunlight playing over her body.

“Rome,” he answered, after briefly toying with the idea to give her one of his countless aliases. But for some reason he couldn’t fathom, he didn’t. “Rome Lucian.”

“I’m Harper Kane,” she offered cordially, finally escaping the couch to stand up stiffly. She rubbed her bare arms and then her thighs, presumably to get her circulation going. His certainly was.

She was taller than he’d thought. In the stark sunlight, he could see her athletic form was built from years of vigorous training, not just occasional gym visits to look sporty. That physique was solid and efficient, not a hollow shell.

It was going to be interesting getting to know this woman. Getting to know what it was about her that spoke to him. And finding out why she was wanted dead or alive.

“Harper Kane,” Rome repeated, and turned toward the kitchen. Throwing her a glance over his shoulder, he tilted his head for her to follow. “Do you like Cocoa Puffs?”

Harper sat quietly in the passenger seat of Rome’s black Land Rover. The tinted glass cast a dreary sepia tone to the countless trees they passed on the drive to Bobby’s secluded home. She absently tapped her foot to the song on the radio. “Dancing Queen” was among her favorites.

After two full bowls of Cocoa Puffs, Harper had blissfully relaxed in a long hot shower. The double jetting heads had surged their soothing spray over her battered body, while she’d generously lathered on Rome’s spicy soap and shampoo. She knew she smelled a bit like
his scent now. It was a curiously intimate feeling, but at least she was clean and refreshed.

Before she’d undressed for the shower, she had taken a look around Rome’s place, admiring his high-tech computer system. She’d even toyed with one of his flash drives. Unbelievably, the tiny memory chip from Bobby’s drive had remained undiscovered in the folds of her jeans pocket. She thought for sure Rome would have confiscated it, but he hadn’t. So she’d cracked open one of his drives, removed the existing memory chip, and replaced it with her own.

Harper had then found Rome in his bedroom, picking out some clothes for her from his own wardrobe. He had even taken care of washing and drying her soiled clothes while she’d showered.

Returning her attention to the present, she glanced at Rome’s rugged reflection in her window and wondered again why he was helping her. Generally, Harper took things at face value and never bothered to look for ulterior motives. Not anymore.

Rome was helping her for his own reasons; she was sure of it. What those reasons were, she had no idea, but while she didn’t trust him, she didn’t have much choice at this point. And she knew he didn’t trust her, either. He knew she was hiding something. Her new power wasn’t something she reckoned she could share with him.

But no matter what she told herself, she could use the help. Especially the help of someone as competent as Rome Lucian, who was also on the inside of the government, which was now after her. She was alone in this world and had little choice but to use him for whatever he offered.

After a brief rundown of what she chose to tell him about her last few days, Rome had decided that they
should start at Bobby’s house to look for clues. The thought of going back to Bobby’s place so soon made her sick to her stomach. Anguish and foreboding danced under her skin and prickled through her nerves. Tension wired her body, but it was of utmost importance that she kept her emotions under tight control until she figured out Rome’s motives and found out what happened with Bobby. And then she would let loose.

“What’s that smile for?” Rome’s rich voice broke into her thoughts. She wasn’t even aware she was smiling, but she knew she couldn’t admit why.

“Just glad to be clean and dry,” she answered instead, which wasn’t a lie.

“Look”—he reached over and gently covered her hand on her lap with his own warm one—“after this, we’ll get you some things. Okay?” His fingers squeezed hers with gentle reassurance.

“That’s fine.” She tried not to notice how nice his touch felt against her skin and thigh. Shifting in the heated leather seat, she gazed at his profile. He had a strong nose that looked like it had been broken at the bridge several times but somehow maintained a solid shape. Though he’d shaved that morning, his rugged cheeks were darkened by a perpetual shadow. His corded neck disappeared into the collar of a black T-shirt under a black leather jacket.

“We’re close?” he asked, not turning to face her even though she knew he could tell she was checking him out by the ticking muscle in his jaw. She moved her inspection from the attractive view inside to the abundant landscape outside.

“The next turn, actually,” she answered, recognizing the familiar sights. “Just about two more miles, then make another right.”

And they’d be back to where it all began.

Quiet reigned until they reached the turn.

Bitter, aching memories flooded over her as the car maneuvered onto the isolated roadway. Approaching the hidden turn to Bobby’s house, Rome slowed the vehicle. Her breathing caught as she saw the charred pavement where Bobby’s truck had burned. With Bobby inside. Nothing remained but a disturbing sooty stain on the road.

Harper raised a palm to her forehead, desperately trying not to let her emotions swirl out of control. Her pulsing mind began to spiral, and she closed her eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths.

A firm squeeze of her other hand caught her attention. She snapped her eyes open.

“Harper.” The tone of his deep voice rolled over her name, soothing her churning insides. She looked into his clear blue eyes. “It’s going to be okay.” Squeezing her hand once more, he said, “You can do this.”

“How can you say that?” she whispered, wanting desperately to believe him. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know all I need to know.” His confidence in her was reassuring. She let it settle around her like a cozy blanket, warm and secure. “You’re strong. Inside and out. You can do this.”

Nodding, she covered their entwined hands with her other one. He gave her a quick nod back and put the car in motion down the isolated bumpy road. Clearing the last of the heavy trees, Bobby’s inviting home came into view.

The two-bedroom house was more like a log cabin, built of rich wood and surrounded by various small firs and cedars. And the dogwoods whose leaves added vibrant color when they adorned the now-bare branches. Acres and acres of forest enveloped the property, which
was how Bobby loved it. It was his private haven of timberland. Serene and alive. But now it seemed still and lifeless.

Gravel crunched under the Land Rover’s chunky tires as they rolled to a stop near the back door. She’d told Rome to park in the back when he’d asked her earlier about cover. There was no garage, just a cleared space out front, enough for two, maybe three cars, and the one-car spot here in the back. He turned off the powerful engine with a twist of his wrist and jiggled the keys.

“Let’s go around front,” he said, opening the door and hopping out of the driver’s side.

She unlocked her door and slid out of the seat, hitting the gravel with a thud. Shutting the door, she saw Rome come to her side and pocket his keys. He gave her a soft, encouraging smile and nodded toward the house.

They moved around the side and approached the entryway, the aging floorboards creaking with their footsteps. Rome pulled out his gun and held it ready.

Harper gave him an inquiring look at the aggressive motion. He quirked a half smile at her. Should she be worried about something? Stepping ahead of her, Rome grabbed the doorknob and turned it. The door opened easily when he slowly pushed inward. Pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing movement, he gripped his gun tightly and eased low through the door and disappeared. Harper remained silent outside on the porch.

A long moment later, Rome opened the door wide and gestured for her to go inside.

“It’s clear, but it’s been run through,” he said, expelling a breath and holstering his gun.

Gazing around the familiar confines in miserable shock, she saw what he meant. It did look like it had been run through. By a herd of wild animals.

Everything was wrecked. Everything. Furniture was
upended. Books and papers littered the hardwood floor. The minimal knickknacks that Bobby had were either broken or discarded haphazardly. The inviting dark wood walls that made the home comfy and charming were bare. All the woodland paintings and mountain photographs were on the floor, with broken glass and bent frames.

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