Royal Target (23 page)

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Authors: Traci Hunter Abramson

BOOK: Royal Target
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He barely broke stride when he reached for her hand and nodded to the door. She turned to follow him, uncertainty showing in her eyes. With her hand in his, Garrett led her outside. He greeted several of the guests as he continued down the terrace steps, but still he didn’t speak to her. Silently, he continued down the path to the swimming pool.

Turning to face her, he realized he was completely vulnerable. Everything he hoped for, everything he wished for was tied up in her. He swallowed hard and finally asked the question that had been tormenting him for days. “Why did you leave without saying good-bye?”

“I thought it would be best.” Janessa spoke softly, but she kept her eyes on his. Her voice was guilt-ridden as she spoke. “I’m sorry about everything that happened the day your mother was kidnapped. If I had done a better job . . .”

“What do you mean if you had done a better job?” Garrett asked, truly shocked to hear the guilt and blame she was carrying. “You helped save her.”

She shook her head, her eyes dropping to the ground. “We both know that isn’t true. I was supposed to help protect your family, and I failed.”

“You didn’t fail,” Garrett insisted. “If you hadn’t realized she was missing when you did, she wouldn’t be alive today.” He reached out and tipped her chin up so that she was looking at him once more. “You kept telling me that no security is perfect. Why are you being so hard on yourself for being right?”

Janessa gave a shrug that was meant to be careless, but he knew better.

He ran a finger along her jaw, his eyes staying on hers. “Why did you leave me behind at the caterer’s that day?”

“I had a job to do, Garrett. Part of that job was to keep you safe, and I was afraid I couldn’t do that if you were with me.” She hesitated a moment before adding softly, “I realize now that was a mistake.”

For the first time, Garrett smiled. “Is this why you came back? So you could apologize?”

“No.” She shook her head as insecurity flashed in her eyes. “I came back because I wanted to see you again.” She let out a shaky sigh. “I did a lot of praying and soul-searching, and I finally realized that there aren’t any guarantees in life and that my fear shouldn’t ruin our chance to be together.” Even as she said the word, her shoulders stiffened. “Then I got back here and you were gone. I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

Hope speared through him, and he shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe no one told you. I told my family not to disclose my whereabouts in order to avoid gossip—I didn’t intend them to keep it a secret from you! I wasn’t here because I was at your sister’s house looking for you.”

“What?” Her eyes widened.

“Mary looks a lot like you. She has your sense of humor, too.” Garrett gave in to the urge to grin as he stepped closer. Then his voice thickened as he spoke once more. “I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that.” Slowly, he drew the ring box out of his pocket. “Every night when I kneel down to pray, I ask for the same thing—that you will once again agree to be my wife.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his thumb over her fingers. “I can’t promise that my world will always be safe, and I know the press will intrude more than we want, but my life will never be complete without you in it.”

Her eyes filled, a single tear spilling over as she struggled to find her voice. “I have spent the last week trying to convince myself that I didn’t belong in your world. I was so sure I was doing you a favor by staying away, but I kept getting tripped up by the same problem. I love you too much to live without you.”

“I love you, now and forever.” Garrett slipped the ring on her finger and lowered his lips to hers. “Promise me you won’t ever take this off again.”

Janessa slid her arms around his neck as tears filled her eyes. “I promise.”

About the Author

Traci Hunter Abramson was born in Phoenix, Arizona. After graduating from Brigham Young University, she spent several years working for the Central Intelligence Agency. She then left the CIA to stay at home with her children and pursue her love of writing. She has written several books, including
Undercurrents, Ripple Effect, The Deep End,
and
Freefall.

Next from Traci Hunter Abramson . . .

Lockdown

Prologue

Riley Palmetta glanced at the classroom door when it opened. She didn’t recognize the student who poked his head inside, so she turned her attention back to the professor.
Only one more week of classes,
she reminded herself as she battled another wave of senioritis. The birds chirping outside the window only served to remind her of the balmy spring weather.

Letting out a little sigh, Riley let her mind wander. With graduation just around the corner, she could almost taste freedom. Finals week would be rough, but then everything would be smooth sailing from there. She considered her struggles of the past four years—the part-time jobs, the internships, the endless studying, and the mountains of scholarship applications. “Free time” was still a foreign concept to her, but she looked forward to finding out exactly what it entailed.

She supposed she had always been driven, even in high school, when she had taken every advanced-placement class offered so that she could whittle down the time it would take her to earn her college degree. Her parents, neither of whom had attended college, still didn’t understand Riley’s inexplicable desire to succeed or her insatiable need to learn. More precisely, they couldn’t understand that Riley actually liked making goals and working toward something.

In an attempt to keep her closer to home, her father had continually insisted that Oswell Barron University was too exclusive and too expensive, but Riley hadn’t listened. The private university in Bainbridge, North Carolina, a small college town half an hour north of Durham, was everything she wanted in a school. Its size, location, prestige . . . even the scholarship opportunities had been a perfect match. Now, after four years of college, Riley was just a heartbeat away from collecting her engineering degree—and she had done it without a single penny of debt.

She glanced at her watch, already wishing the class was over even though they still had another thirty minutes to go. She turned her eyes back to the professor just in time to hear a hammering noise and see him drop limply to the ground. A moment later the noise repeated itself, and the boy in front of her slumped down onto his desk as screams echoed through the room. Riley looked up to see the slender, dark-haired man point his gun and shoot off another round.

This can’t be happening!
Riley thought as the girl beside her fell to the floor. Instinctively, Riley dropped down beside her. She couldn’t believe her eyes. This man was actually shooting at them! Blood dripped onto the floor in front of her from the lifeless form sprawled over the desk—a lifeless form that had been planning to study with her tonight.

Her heart pounding, Riley squeezed her eyes shut to block out the horrifying images. She grappled with reality, her mind whirling. Suddenly, the gunfire stopped, and she heard footsteps in the hallway along with a panicked voice a few rows back.

She didn’t even have time to lift her head to see who else had survived before another spray of gunfire erupted in the classroom. The smell of blood overwhelmed her, and she heard a little voice in her head tell her to play dead—that if she wanted to live, she had to appear as though she were among the fallen.

She kept her eyes closed as once again the gunfire momentarily ceased. Muscle by muscle she tried to relax. Perhaps this was just a bad dream, she thought to herself. Maybe she had dozed off again in class and at any moment the professor would wake her up. She didn’t jolt when the next spray of gunfire began, which she considered a miracle in itself. It also proved what she didn’t want to face: this wasn’t a dream.

Chapter One

Two years later

Tristan Crowther drove through the historic section of Bainbridge as he headed for Oswell Barron University. Until today he had only seen the campus on television, and he was almost surprised by the peaceful setting as he pulled up near Sedgely Hall. He climbed out of his truck and glanced in the back, quickly checking under the tarp to make sure his gear had survived the trip.

He took the time to study the three-story structure in front of him as he approached. The stone was weathered and gray, the hard lines of the building making it seem somewhat formidable. Adding to the gloom was the knowledge that twenty-three people had died inside the walls of Sedgely Hall just two years earlier. He still remembered the helpless feeling that had washed over him when he’d heard the news.

But now he pushed those thoughts aside as his deep blue eyes scrutinized the building. The warrior in him evaluated the possibilities for entry and escape as he struggled to keep his objectivity. He might have been helpless to stop the massacre two years ago, but he could make a difference now.

The students and faculty of Oswell Barron University had spent the past two years trying to recover from the tragedy. Now, in an effort to prevent similar incidents from happening again, they were offering their campus as a training ground for law enforcement officers. Tristan was part of the task force that would help create the training course, which would begin in three weeks.

Other books by Traci Hunter Abramson:

Undercurrents

Ripple Effect

The Deep End

Freefall

Lockdown

Royal Target

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