Don't Fall for a Fugitive: Strong Family Romances Read online

  “No woman would choose you over me,” Brigham said in a condescending voice. “And I get every woman I want … one way or another.”

  Hazel shivered. He was filthy.

  “You’re such a pompous idiot. You think you’re the king of the world, but Papi told me if I can prove you’re the one making the mistakes, I can take over the business.” Jamison’s voice lowered, but she thought he said, “And I can prove it.”

  “I am the king of the world. Papi will do exactly what I say.”

  “No, he won’t.”

  Brigham gave a low chuckle. “Even Papi is afraid of me. I own more policemen than you’ve ever met. I’m untouchable. And there’s nothing I won’t do to get and keep what I want.”

  Hazel’s stomach plunged at his sickening words. There was a loud yell of surprise, followed by the sound of a body bouncing down the stairs and then a loud thump as it hit at the bottom. She shoved her fist into her mouth to keep from screaming. What had just happened? Her hand trembled against her mouth and she cowered into the plane, praying Brigham wouldn’t climb back into it for some reason.

  She heard smooth steps descending the stairs, and then Brigham spoke. “I don’t think you’ll be able to prove anything, cousin. And Hazel is mine.”

  Hazel’s entire body shuddered, and ice rubbed at her spine. Had Brigham hurt Jamison, or worse? How was she going to get out of here and get to the police? Would they believe her word over a well-known billionaire? Wait! He’d said he owned the policemen. Could that be true?

  Brigham’s footsteps tapped across the floor, and then the man door banged open and closed. She wanted to keep hiding in the plane, hunker down and never see Brigham again, but a voice in her head was telling her to run and run now. This was her chance.

  Rushing down the steps, she gasped when she saw Jamison. His leg stuck out at an odd angle, and blood pooled beneath his head. He was dead. Oh my goodness, Brigham had killed him. She was the only witness, and Brigham owned the police. Nausea rose up in her throat, and tears pricked at her eyelids.

  She ran to the exterior door, praying Brigham was around by the vehicles and hadn’t already recognized that she wasn’t in one. There was no sign of him when she cracked the door open and peeked through, and she was grateful that this door opened away from where the vehicles were. She pushed through the mounds of snow, heading to the east. Snow seeped down into the top of her boots, and shoving through the piles was difficult, but her entire soul was screaming to escape, and she was listening.

  She finally made it around the east side of the building and kept bucking her legs through that snow, sometimes in up to her thighs. There was a cleared, paved road coming up. She hit it and ran pell-mell to the next hangar, clinging to her purse, her coat flapping open since she hadn’t done it up. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn’t see anyone coming, yet. Holly would’ve told Brigham that Hazel had returned to the hangar for her phone. Hopefully, he would search his own plane and hangar before looking for her, which would buy her a few minutes. Her tracks in the snow until she hit the asphalt would lead him in the right direction. It would be obvious to him that she knew he’d killed Jamison, and if he truly did own policemen, she was in serious trouble. She doubted a powerful man like him would let her just run away.

  She tried the small man door of the first hangar she came to. Locked. Dang it. She wanted to hide behind the building, but she sprinted for the next hangar instead, running around to the south side where its door was. Another hard tug proved to be in vain. Her heart sank further. Would they all be locked? Was anyone around who could help her? She wondered if she should stop and call the police, but she didn’t dare. Every instinct told her to run.

  Run she did, straight across the asphalt to the next hangar a hundred yards away. She looked back, but luckily she was sheltered there from a view of Brigham’s hangar with a few of the large buildings between them now.

  Suddenly, she heard voices shouting and steps pounding. No! Brigham was coming. Yet it didn’t sound like just one person’s steps. How many were after her?

  With a desperate prayer, she yanked on the door, and miraculously it opened. Thank you, she breathed. Rushing inside, she saw polished floors and a white jet airplane with its door open. This hangar was clean and big, but there were no frills—no fancy living area or even a bathroom to hide in. There was no choice. She ran for the plane’s door and hurried up into it. It was a beautiful jet, a cream interior with wood accents, but not near as big as Brigham’s.

  She heard the door to the hangar open, letting in voices. No, no, no! Could Brigham already have found her? Her path around his hangar might be obvious through the snow, but since then she’d been on pavement, which should’ve made it harder to guess which hangar she’d entered. Her heart thudded out of control as the voices grew nearer. She didn’t have time to reach the door at the back of the plane that could be a bathroom, nor the door at the front that must be the cockpit. She dove behind the closest leather chair and tried to compress her body into the space between the chair and the wall of the plane. It was silly, but she shut her eyes as if they couldn’t see her if she couldn’t see them.

  Men’s voices drifted to her, followed by steps coming into the plane. Hazel’s heart was walloping so loudly in her chest she was sure they could hear it. She clasped her hands together, but they were slick with sweat.

  “Thank you, Gary,” a deep voice said.

  “You’re sure I don’t need to stay in Colorado and wait for you?” the other voice asked.

  “No. You come back to Park City and enjoy your family. It might kill me, but I’ll stay with my brother through the New Year.” There was laughter in the man’s deep voice, but he sounded kind of serious too.

  “Family can be tough to take sometimes.”

  Hazel forced her eyes open and could only see men’s shoes. Nice leather shoes. This was it. Please don’t let Brigham find me, she prayed over and over.

  Maybe these men would protect her. But why would they? They didn’t know her. They might know Brigham, since their hangar was three away from his. They might believe whatever story he chose to spin and shove her into his scary arms. Were all rich American businessmen slime? What had she gotten herself into?

  “My family’s great,” Deep Voice said, “but I must be getting old and reclusive. I’d rather stay in one of my own homes, but it’ll be a fun holiday.”

  The other man laughed. “You’re definitely not old, but you do work too much. Take it from me. Find you a beautiful girl and settle down. Married life is the best.”

  Deep Voice grunted. “Have you been chatting with my mama?”

  “Nope, but she must be brilliant if she’s telling you to get married.”

  “She is brilliant, but I’m nowhere close to marriage.”

  Deep Voice actually sounded nice, but she was so terrified she couldn’t get her heart to calm down. She didn’t trust any man at the moment, especially not a rich one who had a plane like Brigham.

  It sounded like the other man clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s get you to Colorado.”

  One pair of leather shoes moved away. She heard the exterior plane door thump closed and the cockpit door open and close, and then there was a loud clank, clank, clank sound. She wondered if that was the big hangar door opening. Brigham’s had been quiet, but his hangar seemed to be top of the line, while this one wasn’t quite as nice.

  The plane motor started, and she watched the other man’s footsteps go away and heard what she assumed was the bathroom door open and close. She let out a breath, alone and safe for a second, but her heart was still racing. She hadn’t thought she’d be stowing away like this. She didn’t want to be alone on a plane with a man who might be exactly like Brigham. If they didn’t discover her, she would go to Colorado. She had her purse. If she could stay safe throughout the flight maybe she could catch a flight home to England from Colorado.

  As she cowered behind the seat, she felt the plane start to move. The b
athroom door opened and closed again. The man’s footsteps approached, and her stomach tried to claw its way out of her throat as her mind scrambled for what to do. Would he see her? There were almost a dozen seats on the plane. Only if he chose one close to her spot would he immediately see her. Once the plane was in the air, would she dare reveal herself? She didn’t dare. She had no idea if this guy was a good person or a leering murderer like Brigham. Why had she ever thought it was a good idea to come to America for the holidays? Now her friend was dead and she was in serious trouble. Oh, to be in her parents’ cozy flat, close to the fire, breaking up fights between the toddlers over a single toy when dozens of other toys lay scattered about.

  The footsteps approached, and she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut again. Instead she stared, wide-eyed, as the man settled into a seat directly across from her. No, no, no!

  He set a bag on the floor and leaned down to slide a laptop out. Her body felt frozen, and she didn’t even know what to pray for. Maybe that he’d be kind if he saw her? Her first prayer was that he wouldn’t see her, but she couldn’t compress herself any tighter and the seat wasn’t covering her completely. If he looked over …

  He straightened with a computer in hand, and his eyes landed directly on her—deep brown eyes that reminded her of delicious chocolate fudge, framed by long lashes and the perfect brows. Dang, he was handsome, and quadruple dang, he’d seen her. Her heart raced out of control.

  He blinked those beautiful eyes as if not comprehending what he was seeing, and then his gaze focused on her. She thought she should be afraid, but a connection sprang between them, and looking into those dark eyes was like coming home. For a brief second she felt safe, as if she could conquer all her fears if this man would simply keep staring at her.

  “What are you doing hiding on my plane?” he asked. The words weren’t harsh and he didn’t appear to be a bully, but he wasn’t going to take a freeloader either.

  The bubble of safety and the desire to get to know this man popped as fear washed over her again. How could she trust someone that she didn’t even know? Despite that zing she’d felt from his gaze, she could sense that this beautiful-looking man was no one to trifle with. His entire bearing was powerful, and he was obviously wealthy.

  Hazel had no choice but to face this head-on. She set her purse behind the seat, stood on trembling legs, and faced the man. Her immediate future lay in his hands, and she wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg, but begging had never been her style. Fast-talking. That she could do.

  Chapter Two

  Heath Strong stared in confusion at the beautiful woman hiding behind the seat of his plane. How had she gotten on, and what in the world was she doing? She stood to face him as his pilot taxied slowly out of the hangar and onto the road that would lead to the runway. She had dark hair that was springing in curls in every direction. Her green eyes were intriguing, but she appeared terrified. Her features were lovely, and her full lips more than appealing. She was dressed in a nice sweater and black tights, with a dress coat unbuttoned sliding off one shoulder. Her shape was incredible.

  He shook his head. He couldn’t be thinking about how gorgeous she was; he should probably yell at Gary to stop the plane and kick her out on the tarmac. She could be trying to get a free ride, or she could have more sinister motives. But it was freezing outside, and she looked really scared. This private airport was gated, and only the pilots, owners, and their guests had access to the entry code. Plus his hangar door should’ve been locked. He’d slid his card over like normal before opening it. Maybe it’d already been open. Maybe when the people he paid to prep and/or clean his plane had come earlier today, they’d left the door unlocked.

  “What are you doing here?” he repeated when she didn’t answer his first question.

  “I’m in a heap of trouble,” she gushed out. “I promise you I can claim innocence and I was just in the wrong ruddy place at the wrong time. Please, please, please don’t throw me to the vulture.”

  Heath noticed her appealing English accent and the fear behind her words. He’d never turn away anyone in trouble, especially not an innocent-looking creature like this. He gestured to the seat. “You want to sit and tell me about it?”

  “Oh, thank you, Lord.” Her breath rushed out, and gratitude beamed from her green eyes. Trembling, she held onto the chair as she slowly settled into it. She asked, “You’re not going to shove me off your lovely plane?”

  He smiled to reassure her. “Maybe not right into a snowbank.” His brow furrowed. “Should I tell the pilot to stop, though? I doubt you want to go to the Colorado mountains. It’s almost colder than here.” Just as he said these words, the plane, which was still taxiing toward the runway, stopped.

  The woman’s face puckered into terror and she grasped the arm of her chair. “Why is he stopping?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Heath stood to go check on Gary just as the cockpit door opened and his pilot hurried back to them. “There’s a man in the middle of the road waving me down—Who is this?”

  The woman’s breath popped out and she stood also, wrapping her warm hand around Heath’s. Her hand was a lot smaller than his, but it pulsed warm sparks through his body. He startled. He’d never felt something like that when a woman touched him.

  “Please, for the love of the Queen, please don’t let him find me.” Her hand gripped his intensely, and her eyes were so full of fear it made his own heart start to race. What man was after her, and why?

  “What is going on?” Gary demanded.

  Heath had the same question, but at that moment there was a banging at the bottom of the airplane’s door. Luckily the plane was high enough off the ground that whoever was out there couldn’t possibly see in, but they could reach the door to knock on it. Everything happening right now was all so out of the ordinary, Heath wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

  The woman was squeezing his hand tighter and looking beseechingly at him. “Please,” she said, the word squeaking out as if it was all she could manage.

  “If I send him away, you’ll tell me the truth?”

  “Yes.” She nodded vigorously.

  He gestured toward the bathroom. “Go.”

  She didn’t need to be told twice as she ran headlong for the bathroom, opening and shutting the door quickly.

  Gary arched his eyebrows at him. “What now?”

  Heath splayed his hands and strode to the plane door. He lifted the safety bar and pushed the door down. It slid down and the steps slid out. A man in a business suit was waiting impatiently at the bottom. Heath recognized him immediately, and he felt a kinship to the woman as his protectiveness increased. Whatever Brigham London wanted from her couldn’t be good. The lying snake.

  Brigham tried to climb the steps and enter the plane, but Heath moved over and blocked his entry. Brigham’s gaze darted to Heath’s face, and he cursed. “Heath,” he muttered, saying his name as if that were a curse too.

  “Brigham.” Heath folded his arms across his chest. “What do you need?”

  “There’s a woman on the loose. She killed my cousin.”

  Heath’s stomach pitched. Could that beautiful, slender woman possibly have killed a man, then stowed away in his airplane to try to escape? He stared into Brigham’s cold, dark eyes and tried to see the truth. Would Brigham have any reason to frame her? If the woman was innocent, that would come out, but Heath knew Brigham’s reputation. The man was part of a family with mob affiliations, and he’d gotten away with so many things that he thought he was above the law.

  Heath also knew the man personally. He’d lost a significant land acquisition to him, and now they were battling for another one. More important, he’d lost a woman he’d cared for deeply to Brigham’s wiles. Malee had come back to Heath later, telling how Brigham had lied to her and taken advantage of her. Heath encouraged her to press charges, but the case never went anywhere. The damage had been done, and Heath wished he wasn’t above a little vigilante-style jus
tice with this manipulative snake.

  His eyes narrowed as he stared at Brigham for probably too long. He loathed this man and didn’t trust him. At all. “I’m sorry about your cousin,” he managed. “What can I do to help?”

  Brigham’s gaze grew calculating. He knew Heath would rather give up his resorts than help him. “I’d like to search your plane for the woman.”

  Heath’s shoulders tightened. He might be harboring a murderer, but he’d take his chances with her over trusting this slimeball. He looked over his shoulder at Gary. “There’s only Gary and me on the plane. I’ve recently used the restroom; no one was there. Was there anyone in the cockpit, Gar?”

  His pilot swallowed and shook his head. “No one in the cockpit, sir.” His voice was stiff and he was obviously uncomfortable. He was loyal to Heath, but everyone in Park City knew how powerful Brigham was, and most knew how crooked he was as well. Gary didn’t want to cross such a man.

  Heath gestured to the plane. He knew it was a third the size of Brigham’s jet. Not that he’d compared—okay, maybe it ticked him off a little bit—but at least he’d made his millions through hard work. Brigham had inherited his money and was as dirty as they came. Heath wished his friend Jed, a detective with Park City, could prove the rape, the mob relations, or one of hundreds of shady deals, but nothing had turned up yet. “As you can easily see,” Heath said, “nobody’s hiding behind the seats.”

  Brigham’s gaze darted around, searching. Heath prayed the brunette would stay quiet in that bathroom. Part of him still wondered if he was making a mistake, but his competitive nature and the fact that he didn’t doubt Brigham had taken advantage of Malee, no matter what the lawyers could or couldn’t prove, told him he’d fight to protect this unnamed beauty. His lips curled. His brothers had taught him well how to fight, and he’d love nothing more than an excuse to disfigure this man’s face.