Private Affair(2)

She cried out in shock and disbelief, but the cry turned into a gasp as the person behind her grabbed her shoulder to anchor her in place while they slipped something around her neck.

In desperation, she kicked out her legs and bucked her body, writhing in her seat as she tried to free herself from the stranglehold. But the hand held her fast as the cord tightened and tightened.

Did she hear words whispered in her ear? Hateful words about what a slut she’d been in high school—and how she’d broken her word.

No, she wanted to scream. It wasn’t true. She’d kept her vow of silence. But the person with the rope around her neck kept whispering, telling her she wasn’t going to get the chance to blab about her past at the reunion  —or anyone else’s past.

The awful voice kept talking, filling her mind like boiling syrup in a pot bubbling on the stove, and she knew who it was. Someone dangerous. Someone she’d avoided for years.

“You little slut. You thought you were a big deal. You thought you could hide your true colors, didn’t you?”

Again she tried to scream that it wasn’t true. It had never been true. And no matter what she had been in high school, she was a different person now. Then she’d been unsure of herself. Eager to fit in. Now she knew she didn’t have to conform to anyone’s standards but her own. She was put together. Successful, and on her way to bigger and better things.

But there was no breath in her lungs for those protests, or for anything else. She was slipping from consciousness. She tried to focus on her shop. On her big plans. But black dots danced in front of her eyes. Then the blackness overwhelmed her.





Chapter 2


Olivia Winters glanced at the man beside her in the driver’s seat of the comfortable SUV. They’d had things to discuss the whole way over here, but as he pulled into a parking space in front of the old stable that had been turned into a restaurant called the Ironwood Grill, they fell silent. This was the second meeting of the Donley High School ten-year reunion   committee. Olivia had deliberately missed the first get-together, and she hadn’t intended to make this one. But now everything had changed, and here she was.

She felt a shiver like a cold ocean wave travel over her skin as she thought about why she was here. When she’d first gotten the email about the reunion  , she’d had the sudden sensation of being in an elevator dropping out of control down a dark shaft. No way had she ever considered deliberately going back and mingling with these people again. Yet here she was, returning to the scene of… What was it? The most miserable years of her life? She had vowed to stay as far away from the reunion   as she could. What was she going to say to these people after all these years? But the death of her friend, Angela Dawson, had turned her resolve upside down. She and Angela had been best friends in high school, and they had kept in touch after Olivia had moved to New York. Now Angela was gone, and Olivia was about to join the group planning the reunion  —with Max Lyon beside her. He’d gone to Donley, too, a couple of years ahead of her class.

She gave him a quick glance, hoping she was concealing her raw nerves. “Showtime,” she whispered.

“Yeah. Just remember what we talked about,” he said in his deep, masculine voice. It had made her uncomfortable at first. Then she’d admitted that she liked it. His voice helped steady her—that and the private-detective wisdom he’d shared.

“Uh-huh,” she answered, knowing she was focusing on the easy part of the equation, a set of rules, rather than her churning emotions. There were so many reasons to be on edge, starting with her uncertainty about seeing her former classmates again.

When he cut the engine, she felt a sense of finality. Too late to back out now.

It wasn’t quite six thirty, and because they were well into spring, there was still a little natural light lingering in the parking lot. Given her choice, she would have elected to arrive under cover of darkness, but that would have brought its own perils—making her and Max late to the party so that all eyes would be on them when they entered the room.

To her right, a car door slammed and she jumped. Max put a hand on her shoulder, and her body stiffened even more. She knew that personal contact with him had to be part of the deal, but she was having trouble adjusting to the way his touch made her feel. Maybe because she was attracted to him and didn’t want to be. Really, the chemistry between them only got in the way.

“Relax,” he said, and she took a couple of breaths, doing her best to comply, trying to pretend that her nerves weren’t tingling like a bunch of live electric wires twisting inside her.