Lethal Attraction Read online

  Grady glanced around. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone until this is settled.”

  “How long is this cozy little arrangement supposed to last?” Sabrina’s assessing stare pinned him.

  “Until we nail whoever is after you. Then you go back to your life, and I—”

  “Take off again? Thanks for the gallant sacrifice, but no thanks.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Clueless much, O’Rourke?” The sparks in her eyes had him backing up. “You can’t keep showing up and making me crazy, then retreat. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

  Grady reeled under the one-two punch. She was right. He had run out on her.

  And God help him, he’d done it twice.

  Dear Reader,

  I’ve come to deeply love my O’Rourkes, and writing Grady’s story was bittersweet. Like you, I couldn’t wait to find out what the daredevil O’Rourke brother would do next!

  Grady didn’t disappoint. During his journey to find himself, he learned that a life empty of family isn’t a life worth living. And life can be much shorter than we realize. Whether your family is one you were born into or one you chose, take time today to say “I love you” to the people who matter most.

  I shed copious tears saying goodbye to Aidan and Zoe, Con and Bailey, Liam and Kate, and Grady and Sabrina. Yet I’m looking forward to falling in love with new characters who will take me on new, exciting adventures. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

  Sláinte!

  Diana Duncan

  LETHAL

  ATTRACTION

  Diana Duncan

  Books by Diana Duncan

  Silhouette Romantic Suspense

  Bulletproof Bride #1284

  *Midnight Hero #1359

  *Midnight Hero #1359

  *Heat of the Moment #1434

  *Lethal Attraction #1510

  DIANA DUNCAN

  Diana Duncan’s fascination with books started long before she could walk, when her librarian grandma toted her to work. Diana crafted her first tale at age four, a riveting account of Perky the Kitten, printed in orange crayon. The discovery—at age fourteen—of her mom’s Harlequin romance novels sparked a lifelong affection for intelligent heroines and complex heroes. She loves writing about men and women with the courage to dive into the biggest adventure of all—falling in love.

  When not writing stories brimming with heart, humor and sizzling passion, Diana spends her time with her husband and children and their two cats and very spoiled puppy in their Portland, Oregon, home. Diana loves to hear from readers. She can be reached via e-mail at [email protected].

  For my fabulous, talented editor, Susan Litman,

  who, when presented with a wild and crazy idea for a

  24 hour series said, “Go for it.”

  Thanks so much for your hard work, patience, wisdom,

  advice, encouragement and unfailing sense of humor.

  You are truly one in a million.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Classified Covert Biological Research Laboratory

  Oregon Desert

  Thursday, May 22 1:00 p.m.

  Viper caressed the pistol at his hip as he clocked in after lunch. He’d worked here seven long months. Today he would not be clocking out.

  Neither would anyone else.

  He waited until the scientists suited up before he drew the gun and attached the suppressor. The other guard dropped before he realized he’d been hit. The scientists’ limited visibility made them soft targets, and one round to the head instantly neutralized Dr. Vega. Dr. Reeves and Dr. Hopkins didn’t reach the intercom before he rendered them unconscious.

  It wasn’t their turn to die…yet.

  Viper donned a biohazard suit. Releasing the lab’s air locks with Dr. Vega’s palm print took seconds. The retinal scan was more complicated, but the laser required an open eye…not a living one.

  His hacked code accessed the vault, and he extracted two vials.

  He dragged the doctors inside, peeled off their hoods, then dropped liquid onto their skin. As he resealed the vial and eased it into a padded canister, his glance flicked to his scarlet-stained glove.

  An eye for an eye.

  He walked out and smashed the keypad, sealing the men inside with the monster they’d created.

  Justice.

  He decontaminated himself and removed the suit. Isopropyl alcohol dumped into a trash can with a lit match torched the files. A computer disc wiped the system of everything…including his existence.

  Shooting as he went, he left behind a string of blood-soaked bodies, and he timed the breach alarm to sound in forty-eight hours.

  When he started his SUV, Viper expected a surge of triumph. But he felt nothing. Betrayal had killed his compassion. Pain had burned away his humanity.

  His glance flicked to the canister as he drove into the barren central Oregon desert. The beginning of the ultimate end. A Memorial Day weekend nobody would forget.

  Judgment Day.

  Chapter 1

  Riverside, Oregon

  Saturday, May 24 11:00 a.m.

  Sabrina Matthews shuddered in the warm air as an eerily intent gaze crawled up the back of her neck. Again.

  She sent a wary glance behind her, and smiled tightly. Twit. Of course she was being watched. Two hundred people were assembled on the grass beside the hospital. The administrator introduced her, and applause crested. She resisted wiping damp palms on her red silk sheath. Don’t screw up. Her stomach jittered as she walked toward the podium. Don’t barf. She ascended the stairs. Don’t fall on your butt and give your coworkers more ammo for blonde jokes.

  Public speaking…argh. About as much fun as her annual pelvic exam.

  “G-good morning.” Staring at reporters, news cameras, the sea of faces, she stumbled over the greeting. Then her attention focused on her father, sitting in the front row. Sabrina locked wobbly knees. She’d macarena through the hospital naked before she’d fail in front of the iron-willed trauma surgeon. “I’m Sabrina Matthews, head child life specialist here at Mercy Hospital.” She cleared her throat. “On behalf of my late grandfather, Senator William ‘Filibuster Bill’ Vaughn, thank you for attending the ground-breaking for our new pediatric wing.” Her voice evened, and Dr. Wade Matthews nodded approval.

  Sabrina’s glance swept over friends, neighbors and coworkers, then lingered on the empty chair in front. The now-ragged Reserved card fluttered forlornly in the breeze.

  Did you really think Grady would come?

  Her heart fisted. But she’d also thought he’d be there when she’d stood shivering in the bitter March wind beside her granddad’s coffin. Not her first, or even her second, mistake where he was concerned. And because the word surrender wasn’t in her vocabulary, also not her last.

  But today wasn’t about what she wanted…at least in her private life. She was here for Granddad and needy children. She gripped the podium. “I was a very…strong-willed child.” She glanced at her father, his head tipped in rueful acknowledgment. “Nothing frightened me. My adventures scared off four nannies and caused my share of childhood injuries. I broke my wrist when I was eight. At
ten, I had to have an appendectomy. There was no time to prepare, and the fear was overwhelming. I’ve always wanted to work with children, but didn’t want to make life-or-death decisions as a physician. And I didn’t want to be an evil needle-wielding nurse.” That earned hearty chuckles from her coworkers and a hard stare from her father. Yeah, as a kick-ass trauma surgeon, he considered empathy a weakness. But it was her greatest strength.

  “Which is why I became a child life specialist. Many of you may wonder what a CLS does. We’re certified professionals trained to ease children’s anxiety during medical situations.” Sabrina adjusted the microphone. “A child’s illness disrupts the family structure. Our programs alleviate that stress and help everyone cope.”

  Warmed to her crusade, she smiled at the rapt crowd. “We’re go-betweens for overwhelmed parents who don’t know the right questions to ask and busy medical staff who sometimes forget to speak ‘civilian.’” She arched a brow at her father, and received his stern “doctor face.” He still attempted to intimidate her into obedience the way he did his staff. As if.

  The audience chuckled again. Whew! “We also initiate therapeutic activities to help relieve a child’s suffering. When the time comes for treatment or surgery we’ve prepared both the child and the family. Easing a child’s terror makes their treatments not only more bearable but more medically effective.”

  Her work meant everything to her, and her department’s funding depended on her pitch. “My grandfather, Senator Vaughn, devoted his life to children’s causes, and his estate was bequeathed to build the new pediatric wing. I urge each of you to consider a personal donation. A pledge to Child Life Services supports children and their families during traumatic times.”

  Sabrina concluded with a video of her kids engaged in program activities and updates on their progress. Then she introduced families who offered heartwarming testimonies.

  By the time the first symbolic shovel was thrust into the ground and cake and punch were served, she was giddy at the stream of envelopes being dropped into well-guarded strongboxes.

  A wide smile—her emotional cloaking device—held steady. But she couldn’t help searching for the one face she knew she wouldn’t see. The bitter awareness of being utterly alone in the crowd hollowed her insides. She shook it off. Stop being a wuss! She’d learned long ago to bury the pain, to throw her all into her job and ignore the inner restlessness, the yearning ache.

  Sabrina said her goodbyes and strode into the depths of the parking garage to fetch her silver Miata convertible. Surreptitious footsteps whispered behind her and she spun, seeing nothing but cars. “Hello? Who’s there?”

  Enveloped in uneasy silence, she was again assaulted by the skin-crawling sensation of being closely observed. Her stare probed dark corners as she scrambled inside the car and hit the lock. She’d experienced heebie-jeebies since her granddad had died two months ago. And recently someone had searched her apartment and office. She had no proof, other than the perception that her things weren’t positioned as she’d left them. Nothing the police could investigate. Only a creepy sense of violation.

  Sabrina didn’t see anyone as she drove outside, but kept the convertible top up. Launching a new wing was a huge undertaking. Her father was right…her reaction had to be stress or anxiety. Maybe lingering grief. Though sorrow over losing her vibrant grandfather had dulled, perhaps his passing had magnified other emotions.

  She maneuvered through traffic, brows scrunched in contemplation. The cerulean skyline in her rearview mirror would eventually be graced by a twelve-story pediatric complex. Her grandfather had left a tremendous legacy.

  What was her legacy?

  Her mischievous youth had been blamed for her father’s premature gray. But every challenge had molded her into the woman she’d become. She sighed. Perhaps she’d been too headstrong.

  Maybe her heart was stubbornly clinging to the one man she couldn’t have…and she would never be truly happy.

  Memories of Grady O’Rourke haunted her, from when they were kindergarteners to their agonizing confrontation nine years ago…before he’d abruptly left for the Army.

  After he’d mustered out and returned home, they’d spoken at neighborhood gatherings and run into each other via their jobs. But each meeting had been painfully casual. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

  He’d dropped off the face of the earth seven months ago, right after the long-delayed trial of the man who’d murdered his father. Where was he? Was he all right?

  Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Regrets? She had a cartload. She was professionally successful but lost and lonely. Like a tree trapped in shade, yearning for sunlight. No blossoms. No fruit. Never fulfilling her true purpose.

  Sabrina checked her mirrors again and scowled. Had that black sedan been tailing her since the hospital? She stomped on the gas, changed lanes and swung right.

  She watched all the way home. Nobody followed when she finally pulled into her apartment complex. Paranoid much?

  Fatigue weighed her limbs as she unlocked the sunny sanctuary of her apartment. She hadn’t taken a day off in…wow…several months. Sabrina dropped her purse and kicked off her heels inside the door. Past time for a mental-health day. She would bake her favorite apple crisp, brew a pot of Earl Grey and curl up with a romance novel.

  She unzipped the restricting dress. Silk was a pain to iron, and she wanted to hang it up ASAP. In red satin bra and panties, she meandered through her jungle of potted plants. Cool leaves brushed her body, and she inhaled the earthy scent that carried her back to her childhood. After the nanny fiasco, Letty Jacobson, the Matthewses’ neighbor who’d wrangled five kids of her own, had offered to babysit. Wild child Sabrina had found a soul mate in the feisty senior, and they’d shared wonderful times in Letty’s garden.

  Lost in anticipation of her stolen afternoon, Sabrina strolled into her bedroom. She froze inside the doorway, the dress dangling from numb fingers.

  Two strange men stood at the end of her bed, staring at her.

  With neat haircuts, tailored black suits and conservative ties, they could be any average businessmen.

  Except for the guns pointed at her.

  Choking fear clawed in her throat, and she gasped. The tall, sandy-haired man motioned with his gun. “Don’t scream. You’ll die before anyone hears.”

  Clutching the dress like a shield, she swallowed terror. She’d never shown fear to her enemies and now didn’t seem like a good time to start. “I’m not the screaming type.” She inhaled a quivering breath. “Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

  The stocky blond man laughed, but it wasn’t reassuring. “She has nerve. She inherited more from the old soldier than those sharp brown eyes.”

  Sabrina started. They meant Granddad. She stared at the silencers attached to the pistols. Her grandfather had been in politics for three decades. She’d heard his stories. Knew the reality behind the rhetoric. Granddad was a straight shooter, but arrows in other quivers were bent. The crisp suits and sharp haircuts suddenly made sense. Who had Granddad crossed? “Are you FBI…CIA…NSA? What’s going on?”

  “Smart,” the sandy-haired one said. The men exchanged a glance that made her stomach lurch. Too smart. “Cooperate, and nobody has to get hurt.”

  These guys weren’t street criminals. Soulless eyes and steady hands with silenced guns. Professionals—who made people disappear.

  Cooperation be damned—they were here to execute her.

  The certainty she was about to die froze her blood. Granddad, what did you do?

  “Give us what the old man sent you.”

  “Who?” she asked, stalling.

  “Too late to play dumb,” the blond said. “Senator Vaughn mailed you something. What was it?”

  If she lied, they’d kill her. If she told the truth, they’d still kill her. The dress crumpled beneath her shaking fingers. They could toss her apartment and stage the murder as a burglary. Nobody would question it. “I don’t
know what you’re talking about.”

  His lips thinned. “Don’t play games. You won’t like the way we keep score.”

  Breathe. “Granddad didn’t send me anything. You can’t tell me your information is a hundred percent reliable. I know better.” Delaying the inevitable was her only tactic. Twenty minutes ago she’d worried about an unhappy future.

  Now, she had no future.

  The sandy-haired man pinned her with an icy stare. “If you don’t have what we need, you’re useless.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. Tasted blood. Should she tell them she had a package in another place? If she could get outside, she could relay an SOS…or escape.

  “And don’t try a bait and switch. One of us will stay with you, while the other checks. If you’re lying…” He sliced his finger across his throat.

  Her instincts screamed run! Sabrina shifted, and both men tensed. Their impassive eyes narrowed, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She’d be dead before she turned around. “I don’t know anything.”

  “I’m beginning to believe you. We’ve searched everywhere. If you had it, you’d have used it by now.” The blond pointed his gun at her head. “I’m out of patience.”

  Sabrina stared into the black barrel. She had nowhere to run. Nothing would save her. She swallowed. If she had to die, her final defiance would be thwarting them. “I have nothing to say.”

  The blond smiled coldly. “Then say goodbye.”

  She braced herself. Who would miss her? Her mom had died when she was four. Dad was married to his work. She and Letty were close but had their own lives.

  His finger tensed on the trigger, and her eyes slammed shut. Her life coalesced. A face rose in her mind.