Her Reluctant Hero: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Read online

  Alex trembled with the desire to slam the agent into the wall for saying those things about Isabella, but hadn’t he thought the same? He hated himself for having made those judgments about her.

  But he pushed the desire aside, thinking of the joy he’d bring Isabella when he told her he’d found Hector. He could already imagine the way her eyes would shine. He grabbed the folder from Michaels, jotted the information down on a scrap of paper and slapped the manila folder against Michaels’ chest.

  “For the record,” he said. “She’s the strongest, bravest woman I’ve known. You keep that asshole in here so he doesn’t touch her again.”

  Isabella was numb on the flight to Belize. Alex had been so excited when he’d burst into her hotel room, scaring the hell out of her, and had gotten surly when she didn’t respond the way he thought she would. Didn’t he realize how afraid she was to hope that she’d find her son? She’d been crushed so many times.

  So she’d sat silently while he made arrangements for a friend of a friend to fly them down immediately. He’d lost his temper when she insisted she needed a new dress for the occasion. The only way she’d convinced him to stop at a department store was because she didn’t even have shoes. He didn’t understand that everything had to be perfect when she saw her son again.

  She tightened her grip on the toy puppy Alex had grabbed while she changed into the red knit dress. That he’d thought of her son, of something to please him, made her heart swell with more emotion she had to squash. One step at a time.

  She caught her reflection in the plane’s window. She hadn’t been able to do anything about the bruises and swelling on her face, and had been painfully aware of the stares she and Alex had received. That only made his mood worse, and he hadn’t said much on the flight so far.

  Now the plane was circling, and Isabella’s thoughts right along with it. Please, God, let him be here. Please, God, let me hold him. Please, God, let this be over, even if it means saying goodbye to Alex.

  He was watching her now, gauging her reaction, she supposed. Unable to meet whatever expectations he might have of her, she turned and looked out the window at the green land, the blue water, her son’s favorite colors. She hummed softly to herself, the Black Eyed Peas song she’d altered to teach her son his colors, as the plane circled, then touched down on a tiny airfield near the coast.

  An SUV waited for them. Alex took her arm as he guided her toward it, casting a disgusted glance at her new heels.

  “Didn’t you learn anything this past week?”

  “I learned I can run barefoot,” she retorted, then opened her bag to show him the Keds she’d picked up. “I learned how to be prepared.”

  His grin surprised her as he opened the passenger door for her. “I wonder if I’ll ever figure you the hell out.”

  A little pop of joy burst in her chest. Did that mean he was going to stick around once this was over? No, no. One step at a time.

  She gripped the armrest in the SUV as Alex guided it over rough roads, then, using the GPS as a guide, up a winding road, trees thick on both sides. Isabella’s heart hammered in anticipation and fear. On the plane, Alex had assured her getting Hector out of the compound wouldn’t be difficult. He carried paperwork that verified her claim of parenthood and more that showed Santiago was in jail, and would be for a long time. Still, she’d feel more secure if the Rangers had come with them.

  The road made a final turn, revealing an Italian-style mansion overlooking the Caribbean. The stucco walls gleamed in the sunlight, the arched windows reflected it. The house itself was surrounded by bougainvillea and hibiscus, thriving in the tropical climate. A wall matching the house ran the length of the yard, and a moment passed before Isabella found the wrought-iron gate, hidden from the road.

  This compound wasn’t hiding. It was huge and looming and actually pretty. Why couldn’t Santiago have kept her here?

  She sat forward in her seat, her hand on the door handle, her breath caught in her chest. Was that—oh, God. She shoved the door open before Alex stopped, stumbled a bit in the gravel of the road, scuffing her new shoes but not caring as she ran to the gate and curled her fingers around it, looking through the scrolled iron bars at the dark-haired child playing on a manicured lawn. Giggles carried on the breeze from the ocean below, and a word. “Mama!”

  Her heart squeezed when she realized her son hadn’t seen her. He was running toward a brunette woman who bent to scoop him up and lifted him high. She recognized Carmen. So she wasn’t in Florida after all. The air echoed with squeals of delight.

  Isabella’s knees sagged and she would have dropped to the ground, but suddenly Alex was beside her, his arm around her, holding her up.

  “I’m sorry, Bella. I’m sorry,” he said against her temple. “Maybe one of the other houses—”

  “He called her ‘Mama’,” she choked, barely managing the words that were being strangled by tears she refused to release.

  He drew back sharply. “It’s him?”

  She nodded, her grip so tight on the gate that the scrolls dug into her palms. Her son, and she’d be damned if she let him call another woman “Mama” after what she’d gone through to get him. She drew away from Alex and rose onto her toes.

  “Mijo,” she called through the gate, then louder. “Mijo.”

  Carmen straightened and turned toward the gate. Her spine snapped straight when she saw Isabella. Hector wriggled in her arms, twisting. She saw recognition light his eyes, and he held his arms out to her with a sharp cry of “Mama”.

  Isabella rattled the gate, needing to get to him, ready to climb over it, ready to take a swipe at Alex when he pushed her back from it. But then he bent over the lock and popped it open, swinging the gate wide. Joy pouring through her, Isabella raced into the yard.

  She dropped to her knees and flung her arms wide, and Hector, her baby, the love of her life, threw himself against her, calling, “Mama, Mama,” over and over. She folded her arms around him, folded her body over his. She had her son and no one was going to get him away from her again. Tears blurred her vision of the boy as she pressed kisses all over his sweet face, as she breathed in the scent of him, little-boy sweat under baby shampoo. This had to be real, if she could smell him, right?

  She didn’t want to let go of her son, checking him to make sure he was whole. His chubby little arms were tight around her neck, pulling her hair, and his body pressed into her cracked ribs, but she was so glad, so relieved he hadn’t forgotten her.

  She looked up to see Alex, blurry through her tears, watching her. “Thank you,” she managed through the lump in her throat.

  He didn’t say anything, of course, only took her elbow and lifted her up, Hector and all. He pulled her against his side, just for a minute, long enough for her to feel the sigh of relief from him.

  Cradling her baby in her arms, she turned to Carmen. Tension returned in full force when she met the eyes of the woman who served Santiago. Beyond her, two men built like linebackers stepped out of the house. But Alex betrayed no alarm. He released her to approach them, leaving her alone with her son and Carmen. She battled back the resentment she felt, for the time this woman had spent with her child that she hadn’t. For just a moment, she wanted to know every detail of the past few months, everything she’d missed in her son’s life. But to indulge in that meant a delay in getting home, in getting back to normal. She didn’t want to wait for that a moment longer.

  With a protective hand over the back of Hector’s head, she spoke. “Santiago is in jail. This is over. I’m taking him home.”

  Carmen frowned, then nodded, her gaze focusing on Hector. “He cried for you. For months, he cried for you.”

  “I’m here now. Santiago can’t hurt us anymore. You can’t hurt us anymore.”

  “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

  Just to get in Santiago’s good graces. Isabella understood. “That doesn’t make it better.”

  Carmen’s mouth tightened. “Do you want his th
ings?”

  Isabella looked toward the house. Things bought with Santiago’s money. “No.” She tightened her grip on Hector’s bottom, adjusting him in her arms. Funny how she’d forgotten how heavy such a slight weight could get after a few minutes. “No, I’ll take care of him from now on.”

  Alex strode across the yard toward her, matter of factly. “Let’s go. They have Santiago’s lawyer’s number if they need to verify anything.” But his body language told her they should go before more questions were raised.

  She buckled Hector into the built-in car seat in the back of the SUV and sat beside him, unwilling to let him out of her sight for the drive back to the airport. She wanted to talk to him, have him tell her about the time she’d lost. More than once she caught Alex watching them in the rearview mirror, but his expression was odd, a mixture of pride and longing, she thought. Longing for what, though?

  The flight to Florida was long, but she didn’t care, only measured her baby’s breathing, smoothed his dark hair, felt his heartbeat. She’d never felt a joy, a relief, this strong since the day he was born. Like then, this moment was worth everything she’d endured to get here.

  Her cheek still pressed against Hector’s head, she turned to smile at Alex, who almost—almost—smiled in return.

  Isabella watched Alex through her lashes as they sat in a booth at the cozy little diner down the street from the Miami airport. They’d been detained at the airport the better part of the night as she’d tried to prove Hector was her son. She’d told the authorities that his birth certificate had been lost in a fire, but they hadn’t been inclined to believe her. Her battered face likely did nothing to advance her cause. It wasn’t until Alex called in a few favors from his friends at the DEA that they released her. Agent Michaels faxed over documentation that had been on the thumb drive, a scanned birth certificate and several doctor reports, including a DNA test Isabella didn’t even know Santiago had ordered. He must have doubted the child was his.

  But now she thanked him for it, because there was no question about her child’s parentage. She could take him home without worrying someone would take him away again.

  Alex to the rescue again.

  He hadn’t flinched when she ordered the biggest breakfast on the menu. He even prodded Hector into ordering milk and orange juice, though that much liquid in such a small bladder could only cause delays. She hated that she felt nervous, waiting for Hector’s incessant chatter to get on Alex’s nerves. Alex wasn’t used to children, after all, and Hector had slept well and was now wide-awake.

  Santiago had hated spending any extended period of time with Hector because he was so noisy. Santiago was accustomed to everyone doing what he wanted, not taking into account Hector was only a child.

  So she waited for Alex to lose his temper. So far, though, he only watched the child warily.

  She wanted to ask him what this all meant, that he was still here with her, but every time she met his gaze, his was guarded. She didn’t know how to get past that.

  “We’re heading to Orlando after this,” he told her when the waitress came to clear the plates.

  “Why?” She wiped absently at Hector’s mouth, as if she hadn’t been out of practice for four months.

  He flicked a glance at Hector. “I’ve been given forty-eight hours of leave and we’re going to Disney World.” He mouthed the last two words so the boy wouldn’t hear.

  An emotion she was afraid to name bubbled up so that she had to push the words out. “You don’t have to do that. I’m already happier than I’ve ever been.”

  He folded his napkin and tossed it on the table, not looking at her. “I keep my word, Bella.”

  What did that mean? She knew that. He’d said he’d protect her and he had. He said he’d get her son back and he had. The Disney World promise—that had just been to get her through it, right?

  Or not.

  So they drove to Orlando. Alex got them a room with two double beds on the resort, and after a trip to Walmart to replenish their supplies, courtesy of the US Army this time, Isabella gave her son a bubble bath. The splashing and giggling held Alex’s attention, a foreign sound, and he resisted the urge to go watch. This was their time together and they needed to be alone, no matter how much Alex ached to be a part of it.

  Once the kid came barreling out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel to bounce on the bed, Alex rose to walk to the bathroom. They hadn’t had much time to talk, especially for him to scold her, not when she’d been hurt, then anxious, then so happy. Now her emotions had evened out, and it was time. He braced his hands in the doorway and she beamed up at him, truly glowed.

  “You scared the hell out of me when you went with Danes, you know.”

  She dropped her gaze and he cursed himself for making her smile dim.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I thought—you trusted him. When I saw him pull up, I thought he’d come to tell us about Hector.”

  “I did trust him,” he admitted. “I was stupid.”

  The smile disappeared altogether now. Good. She got that he didn’t trust anyone, not even her.

  “But you came after me.” She looked up at him with adoration in those big brown eyes.

  “I did,” he agreed, wanting to turn away. But he was no coward. “You were my responsibility. I was supposed to keep you safe.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes. “That’s not all I am to you, Alex. If it was, you would have said goodbye to us at the airport instead of bringing us back to Orlando.”

  “I’m your protector. With Santiago behind bars, you don’t need me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized instead of sounding cruel to push her away, he sounded needy.

  She heard it too, damn her, and stood to move closer, letting the sopping towels fall into the tub. Her fingers were cool and wet as she touched his cheek.

  “I need you. I love you, Alex.”

  He took a step back and looked away sharply at her words. “You don’t. You don’t know anything about me other than I saved your life and brought you your son.”

  She laughed. “That’s a lot to know.” She came nearer. “You stood by me through all of this. You risked everything to help me. You risked your career, the respect of everyone around you to help me. You killed someone who meant something to you to help me. You’re my hero.”

  He turned to her then. “I’m not a hero all the time, Bella.”

  “No?” She smiled. “When aren’t you?”

  “When I used to sell drugs.”

  She blinked, surprised, and let her hand fall away. “You did?” She glanced past him to her son, who was happily engrossed in a SpongeBob cartoon Alex had turned on. He waited for her to return her attention to him. He needed to see her reaction.

  He needed to push her and her child away.

  “I was a drug mule for five years.”

  “You—were?”

  Doubt and confusion shadowed her eyes. There, if he looked close, was a bit of disgust. He focused on that.

  “Where?” she asked.

  “In Houston. For my mom.”

  “For your mom?” Her brow furrowed. “I thought you were adopted.”

  “When I was fourteen.”

  The frown lines relaxed. “You were a mule for your real mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  He watched her reason it out.

  “So you were—nine when you started?”

  “More like six. I was in the system awhile before the Shepards got me.”

  “Oh, Alex.” She laughed again, in relief, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You were just a baby. You didn’t know what you were doing. You thought you were helping your mom.”

  He reached up to loosen her arms, but she wouldn’t let go. He scowled, frustrated. He had to allow her to see his dark side, a side only the Shepards understood. He’d never wanted anyone else to know. Why he needed her to, well, he wasn’t sure. “I helped kill my mom. She died running from the cops when I was eleven, in a car rollover. I was
in the backseat.”

  “Alex.” Her voice was soft, curling around him as she curved her palms over the back of his head and looked into his eyes. “How terrible for you.”

  This time he managed to get away from her, wanting some distance. “It was the best thing to ever happen to me.” He gauged her reaction to his statement. Horror, as he expected. As any loving mother would feel. “She was a whore, Bella. She sold herself, sold me, for drugs.”

  He watched understanding sink in and her generous lips thinned.

  “That’s why you held me so far away. You thought I was like her?”

  He braced his hands against the dresser behind him. “Consider my frame of reference here.”

  She twisted the damp towel around her arms. “But now you know differently.”

  It was almost a question, with a hint of hope. He sucked in a breath, knowing what she wanted to hear. He wanted to say the words but knew what she would want if he said them.

  Something he couldn’t give. Something he didn’t deserve.

  He’d already made too much of taking them to Disney World. That was a treat for a family, and while he’d enjoy it, he’d known all the while that he’d be walking away and never see either of them again.

  “I know you’re strong, and you love that kid more than anything. I know who you are.”

  “But you can’t love me because of who I was.”

  The pain was sharp in her voice and he moved forward, catching her wrists to force her to look at him. He waited for the fear to flash in her eyes, after what she’d endured, but there was none. Wonder filled him at that. She wasn’t afraid of him. That didn’t make what he had to say any easier.

  “Because of who I was, Bella.”

  She sucked in a breath. “If you can’t forgive yourself for your past, can’t see the man you’ve become, then you’ll never forgive me for mine.”

  He opened his mouth, wanting to ease her pain as much as he’d wanted to return her son to her, all the while worried it was beyond his power. This was just as far beyond his power. It was best to let her believe he thought that.