Rogue Alpha (Alpha 7) Read online

  What on earth am I doing?

  She didn’t want to go to bed with Seth. She didn’t want to become involved or go to bed with any man after her short but disastrous marriage to Jeremy. It would be complete madness when she had this uncertainty and turmoil going on in her life.

  But I do want to feel safe, and Seth Armstrong makes me feel safe.

  From everyone but himself…

  This man was too cynical, more experienced than her too, and not only in years. There was a wealth of knowledge in those hard, onyx eyes. Eyes that had seen things, as this man had done things, she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  He may even have shot and killed one or several of my kidnappers eight months ago.

  Diana was aware of all those things. At the same time as the thought of staying here with him was so much more appealing than being alone in a hotel room.

  No, she wouldn’t be with Seth, merely sleeping in the same house as him.

  There was the added benefit he couldn’t just forget about her, and her problem, if she stayed here. “Fine” She nodded. “Thank you,” she added belatedly.

  His smile was mocking now. As if he knew exactly how nervous the thought of staying the night here with him made her feel. “What sort of food do you prefer?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I haven’t eaten yet, thought we could order dinner in.”

  Diana hadn’t given a thought to eating dinner. She hadn’t given a lot of thought to food at all since the break-in at her apartment. She had felt too unsettled. As if her space, her life, had been invaded. Violated. Again.

  How could something so awful be happening to her for a second time in a matter of months?

  More to the point, why was it happening to her?

  Her stomach churned. “I’m really not hungry.”

  “I am,” Seth decided decisively. “Do you eat Chinese food?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then Chinese it is.”

  This man’s manner bordered on arrogance— Who was she kidding? This man was arrogant as hell. It was possible he might even define the word. Which was part of the reason she had come to him for help in the first place. Seth Armstrong wasn’t only arrogant, he also didn’t recognize the word failure. If he decided to help her, then she knew he wouldn’t stop until he had solved the mystery of what was going on in her life.

  If he decided to help her.

  “Where are you going?” Diana frowned as he headed toward the door. And then cursed herself for sounding needy. She hated sounding or feeling that way.

  He paused in the doorway. “The food menu is in the kitchen next to the phone. Do you need to get your bag from the hotel, or can you manage for one night? I’m sure I can rustle you up a new toothbrush, if that helps.”

  No doubt he kept a supply of them for the legion of women who—

  Who what? Shared this man’s bed?

  She was being unfair. Not only that, she was being ungrateful too. She didn’t know Seth, and it was none of her business if he kept a spare toothbrush—or six—for the times he had someone staying overnight. As it was none of her business if those someones happened to all be women. He was single, handsome as sin, and he could do what he pleased and go to bed with who the hell he chose to.

  Would he have chosen to go to bed with her if she hadn’t put an end to their kiss earlier?

  The raw desire behind that kiss, and his obvious arousal at the time, said that he would.

  She doubted he felt the same way about her after all she had told him since. He was probably only humoring her by even bothering to listen to her.

  Which was a pity, because a night of unbridled sex with a man like Seth Armstrong might be what she needed to block everything else out of her mind. The past, the present, and the future.

  She nodded. “I can pick up my bag tomorrow. I… It really is very kind of you to let me stay here tonight.”

  “Probably best if you don’t attribute me with virtues I don’t have.” His smile was hard. “Until I know what’s going on, I would prefer to keep you where I can see you.”

  Well, that was honest, at least.

  Diana had a feeling that nothing was ever sugarcoated in Seth Armstrong’s life.

  The last year had been traumatic and slightly unreal for Diana, and what was happening in her life now had become a part of the same nightmare, but the evening that followed was even more surreal.

  Seth Armstrong definitely wasn’t a talker—as if she hadn’t already known that from their very first meeting. But when he did speak, he was succinct and to the point. Surprisingly, the silences didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward either.

  As a consequence, Diana relaxed for the first time in days. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” She took one of the two glasses of brandy he had poured after they had finished eating and returned to sit beside the comfort and warmth of the fire in his study. She’d already had several sips of the whisky he gave her earlier, and they had emptied the bottle of red wine he had opened to go with their meal.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  She immediately tensed at the harshness of his tone. “I… Why, nothing. It was only something to say. I meant it as a joke…”

  Seth realized he had just overreacted to a perfectly innocent remark.

  It was Diana’s response to that overreaction that was interesting. Jumpy and wary, as if she was nervous about what he might say or do in response.

  He had realized over the past couple of hours that Diana was currently living on her nerves—with good reason, she believed—but her nervousness now seemed to be a direct reaction to him snapping at her.

  Her voice had been warm when she spoke of her parents earlier. The fact that Stephen Baxter had provided the necessary ransom money for the release of his daughter and Diana had stayed with her parents for so long after she came back from Colombia, were all indications she enjoyed a loving relationship with them.

  So what, or who, made her respond so warily to what had only been a show of impatience on his part?

  Could it possibly be her husband, the smooth and charming Jeremy Moore?

  Seth had done the necessary background check on the Moores eight months ago, and that information was probably still on his computer somewhere, but from memory, he thought the young couple had been married for only a matter of months before the kidnapping followed by Moore’s death. Still in the honeymoon period, if Dair’s and Lijah’s respective marriages were any indication of married life.

  So maybe it was simply being here with him that was adding to Diana’s tension?

  Was she scared of him? Because of the way things had gone down in Colombia?

  He knew how he must have looked to her that day. A painted warrior who would kill if he had to. Who did kill because he had to.

  Or maybe it was the scar that made her nervous?

  It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had been repulsed by it. Any woman who responded that way wasn’t someone he wanted to be involved with.

  Damn it, he wasn’t involved with Diana Moore.

  And while he’d been standing here mulling over the reason for her reaction to him a few minutes ago, Diana had fallen asleep in the chair.

  She looked young and achingly beautiful now the lines of worry were smoothed from her brow. Her hair was a cloud of auburn as it fell silkily about her face and onto her shoulders. Her cheeks were slightly flushed too, probably from the wine she had consumed with their meal.

  She looked very young, and very vulnerable.

  In that moment, whether Seth liked it or not, his decision as to whether or not he was going to help her was made.

  Chapter 3

  “How’s the head today?” Seth inquired the following morning when Diana came—slunk?—into the kitchen, still wearing the clothes she had been wearing yesterday and also slept in the night before.

  He’d thought briefly of undressing her after carrying her upstairs and putting her to bed in one of his sp
are bedrooms, but then decided she probably wouldn’t appreciate waking up and finding herself stark naked and realized why that was.

  He barely stopped himself from grinning now as he received a baleful glare in response to his question. “We had a word for that in the army. Lightweight,” he supplied at Diana’s questioning frown.

  “I’ll be fine once I’ve had some coffee.” Her expression was slightly pained as she made her way across the kitchen to take the mug of coffee he had poured for her. “You were in the army?” She took a reviving sip.

  He turned to lean back against the kitchen unit, arms folded in front of his chest. “Most of the people who work for Grayson Security were at one time.” Except Jonas, who had worked for the US military. “Either you were very tired last night, or you really are a lightweight when it comes to drinking alcohol.”

  Diana thought she was probably a little of both. She hadn’t slept properly for so long, had been living on her nerves, wary as a cat. Last night, she had totally relaxed for the first time in months, whether from feeling safe or drinking too much, she wasn’t sure.

  The next thing she knew, she’d woken up briefly to find herself once again thrown over Seth’s shoulder, this time being carried up the stairs rather than out of the compound controlled by her kidnappers.

  She had woken up this morning in a strange bed, still fully clothed and nursing a headache that made her eyes throb and her jaw ache. Only the smell of coffee brewing could have lured her into getting out of bed before going into the bathroom to clean her teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste—put there by Seth while she slept?—before seeking out the source of that delicious coffee smell.

  “I was very tired.” The coffee was starting to revive her a little, thank goodness.

  Enough so that she could now appreciate how good Seth looked this morning, wearing a thin black cashmere sweater, the sleeves pushed up to below his elbows, and faded blue jeans that rested low down on his hips. His feet were bare, and his shoulder-length hair was still damp from where he must have taken a shower.

  In contrast, Diana felt a mess. She couldn’t remember where she’d left her shoulder bag the evening before, so she didn’t have a hairbrush, which meant her hair was all over the place. She’d washed her face in the en suite bathroom, which meant she now wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her sweater and denims were creased from where she’d slept in them. Which was probably preferable to having Seth Armstrong undress her before putting her to bed.

  Probably?

  Definitely.

  There was something decidedly…disturbing in thinking about having Seth Armstrong undress her. It was far too intimate an image, considering the reason she was at his home with him at all.

  She scowled as she saw Seth was still grinning at her obvious discomfort. “Are you always this cheerful in the morning?”

  “Are you always this grumpy?”

  “I’m not good for anything until after I’ve had my second cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll remember that for future reference,” he drawled.

  Diana shot him a sharp glance. A glance he met with guileless innocence.

  He certainly couldn’t have meant the remark that way. Seth Armstrong was the least guileless man she had ever met. As for being innocent…

  “I hope I didn’t upset any of your plans for yesterday evening?” She poured herself a refill of the coffee before moving to sit down on one of the chairs about the marble-and-chrome table in the middle of the modern kitchen.

  “Not at all.” He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, if that’s what you were asking.”

  Diana couldn’t quite meet his mocking gaze. “I didn’t mean to pry—”

  “No?” He watched her between narrowed lids.

  “No.” Her cheeks felt warm. “What future reference?” Hope started to rise within her as she realized the significance of what he’d said.

  “We need to talk about that.” Seth had been up for hours. Having first checked that Diana was still asleep, he had switched on his laptop and pulled down the file on Diana and Jeremy Moore.

  It was mainly background stuff about the kidnapping, and then his own report on the rescue, with little real personal information on the couple themselves other than the bare bones. Probably because Grayson Security hadn’t needed any more information than that in order to go in and rescue Diana from her kidnappers.

  Seth needed that information now. “Were you and Moore happy together?”

  Those turquoise eyes glittered with resentment as she stared across the table at him. “I don’t see what business that is of yours.”

  He leaned back in his chair, wholly appreciative of how beautiful Diana looked with her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed with temper. “If you want me to help you, then we do this my way. And knowing the status of your marriage is something I need to know.”

  “I don’t see why—”

  “You don’t need to,” he bit out. “You just need to answer the fucking question.”

  Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

  How many times had that phrase gone through Diana’s head during her brief marriage to Jeremy? Too many to count.

  He had been so handsome, so charming, so attentive during the weeks they were dating, how could she not have fallen in love with him?

  Street angel, fireside devil.

  Her head was full of these stupid clichés, and none of them changed the fact that Jeremy’s handsome face and charming manner were the façade behind which he hid a monster. A manipulative and twisted monster she had been making arrangements to leave when she was kidnapped.

  Jeremy’s murder had saved her from going through the mess of separation and then divorce.

  Which, if known, would no doubt make her the prime suspect in Jeremy’s murder.

  And was one of the reasons she was reluctant to share any of the details of her marriage with Seth Armstrong.

  But only one of the reasons.

  It was humiliating to admit how gullible she had been. How totally bedazzled she was by Jeremy that she had married him after knowing him for only three months.

  She’d had cause to regret that hasty marriage as early as their honeymoon.

  They had decided to spend a week in Barbados lazing on a beach, just enjoying relaxing and being together. Which was exactly what they had done for the first three days. On the fourth evening, Jeremy had taken exception to her laughing at an offhand comment made by the barman in their hotel.

  She had seen the monster for the first time that night.

  Jeremy had been so full of apologies the following morning, had sworn it would never happen again, that it was because he was so much in love with her he couldn’t bear to see other men near her, or her smiling at them.

  Like an idiot, Diana had believed his assurances.

  Once they returned to England, they had lived harmoniously together during those weeks leading up to their move to Colombia. So much so she had managed to convince herself she must have imagined what happened on their honeymoon.

  Wasn’t that what all battered wives did? Lied to themselves? Even taking part of the blame onto themselves for what had happened? Convincing themselves it was because their husbands loved them so much?

  She looked across the kitchen table at the quietly watchful Seth. Jeremy looked youthful and uncomplicated but wasn’t. Seth looked like a hardened man capable of violence, and undoubtedly he was. Yet Diana knew instinctively which man she trusted never to deliberately hurt a woman. The work Seth did showed he was a man of honor, and not one of violence for violence’s sake. Most especially against a woman.

  Her chin rose as she met his dark and narrowed gaze. “My husband was an abusive bastard, and if he hadn’t died, I was about to leave and then divorce him.”

  Seth wasn’t in the least surprised by her announcement. On paper and to look at, Jeremy Moore seemed like perfect husband material: twenty-eight, charming and handsome, hardw
orking, destined to go far in his chosen career. Everything a woman could want in a husband, in fact.

  Except, unlike every other widow Seth had ever met, Diana didn’t tear up or become emotional whenever her husband’s name was mentioned. Admittedly, it had been eight months since Moore died, but even so…

  She called him an abusive bastard.

  Did that mean the other man had physically hurt her? Maybe taken his fists to her?

  Seth’s own hands curled into fists against his thighs at the thought of a man hitting a woman for any reason. There was no excuse for a husband hitting his wife. “Does anyone else know about that?”

  She gave a shake of her head. “My parents would have been devastated, and after Jeremy was killed, I couldn’t see the point in telling them. Once I was back in England, I didn’t—I was too embarrassed to tell my friends what happened either.”

  “That’s the reason you moved to Paris.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes.”

  Seth would have liked to go into the subject more deeply, but for the moment, he had to concentrate on what was—or wasn’t?—going on in Diana’s life right now. “Did Moore know you were leaving him?”

  “Oh yes.”

  The expression on her face was enough to tell him how that conversation had gone down. “Did he have enemies?”

  “Other than me, you mean?” she questioned dully.

  Seth disliked intensely that look of defeat in her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Not that I’m aware of, no. Jeremy was all charm in public.” She gave a shudder. “It was only in private he became violent.”

  Seth wasn’t as convinced of that as Diana obviously was. Oh, no doubt the other man had been able to keep up that façade in his working life, but there would be others, most probably women, the bastard would have preyed on in the past. Women like Diana, who were too embarrassed and humiliated to ever want to talk about the abuse to other people.

  Diana stood abruptly. “I didn’t shoot him, if that’s where this conversation is going.”

  “What the fu…?” Seth stood up too, scowling darkly. “Of course you didn’t shoot him.”