Beyond a Shadow
By Alison Kent
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About this ebook
Most people come to Comfort Bay, Oregon, in search of a quiet respite. But that's not on the agenda for undercover operative Ezra Moore. He has ten days to unload a shipment of illegal weapons and take down Spectra IT, the international crime syndicate he's infiltrated. Spectra's man, Warren Aceveda, is playing dirty pool. To beat him and stay alive, Ezra has to play dirtier. However, even the best-laid crimes can go sideways, and Ezra's about to find out how far...
Alexa Counsel likes her boring life in Comfort Bay. But there's nothing boring about the new handyman working at the local B&B. Great with his hands? Oh yeah. But there's something much deeper running beneath those still waters. Something she's not sure she understands or trusts. No one is going to use her as a cover, no matter how irresistible he may be. But Ezra is the only man who's ever made her feel so complete, and she's in way too deep to turn back...
Playing cat and mouse with one of the world's fiercest criminals, Alexa and Ezra are about to find out just how dangerous and delicious starting a new life—and finding a new love—can be.
Alison Kent
Alison Kent was a born reader, but it wasn't until she reached 30 that she knew she wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Five years later, she made her first sale. Two years after that, she accepted an offer issued by the senior editor of Harlequin Temptation live on the 'Isn't It Romantic?' episode of CBS's 48 Hours. The resulting book, Call Me, was a Romantic Times finalist for Best First Series Book.
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Beyond a Shadow - Alison Kent
Chapter 1
TWO INCHES. MAYBE THREE. That was the distance standing between Emmy Rose Maples and certain death. If she didn’t drown, she would su-ccumb to hypothermia like her mom was always warning her. She knew that she wouldn’t really freeze. The water would have to close around her in a big block of ice for that to happen.
Of course, all she had to do to make sure she didn’t die was back up a couple of steps. But she liked standing here and staring down. She didn’t even have to move her eyes to see the toes of her galoshes, the edge of the dock, and the rolling green water pulsing from the ocean into the bay. Pul-sing. She liked that word. Her mother had used it once to describe the way the waves pushed in through the harbor’s entrance.
Pul-sing. That was exactly what her blood was doing now, pulsing through her veins as she looked at the water and listened to it lap against the dock’s pylons. The same cold wind whipping her hair around her face drove the waves, making little white caps that crashed into the rocks like the marshmallow foam on hot cocoa.
She probably didn’t need to be worrying about drowning or hypothermia. Her mom would be the one to kill her if she saw her down here without her hood. Her mom would think it was bad enough that she was wearing her dad’s mackinaw instead of the pink parka hanging in the mudroom on the hook beneath her name. She hated pink. She looked like a wad of bubble gum.
If I were you, young Miss Maples, I would not stand so close to the edge. Were you to receive an unexpected bump, you would most certainly fall.
To my death, right?
she asked, glancing over at the man who had spoken. The man she had been waiting for. You forgot that part. That I would fall to my death.
He considered her for a moment, his dark brown eyes kind of squinting as he swung the duffel bag he’d been carrying from his shoulder to the surface of the dock. He stepped over it and walked toward her. Then he stood beside her, his boots next to her boots, as they both stared down.
I don’t believe you would fall to your death at all.
Why not?
Do you know how to swim?
She nodded. This coat is my dad’s. It’s heavy. It would be even more heavy if it was wet.
So what would you do? If you fell in wearing the coat?
Try to get out of it without struggling.
Why no struggling?
I don’t want to get tangled or use up all my oxygen.
She shrugged. But that doesn’t mean I could do it, so I might still drown.
Then you should practice so you will know for certain.
Emmy Rose shuddered. Her heart beat so hard it hurt. You want me to jump in?
What I want is for you to know that you can save yourself. I do not want for you to put your life in danger.
So,
she began, thinking about what he had said. If I want to practice, I should tell my dad and have him here to help me. And probably have my mom’s permission, too. Even though she would never in a million years give it to me.
Do you think she would rather worry than know you can take care of yourself?
Emmy Rose scuffed one toe against the dock’s wet and salt-crusty planks. You don’t know my mom.
He didn’t say anything after that. He just stood beside her, silent and still. Like a statue. She sneaked a quick glance to the side and saw he had his hands down in the pockets of his army pants and his shoulders hunched up in his pea coat against the sharp gusts of wind.
She started to tell him he would be warmer if he wore a hat, but then she remembered that she wasn’t wearing one either. Her mom called that doing what I say, not what I do. And she knew her mom would probably be down here on the warpath any minute to drag her home for supper. She might as well head back on her own.
Before she went, though, there was something she wanted to know. She looked back down into the water in time to see a sliver of silver as a fish swam by. If I jumped in right now, do you think I’d make it?
I know you would, because I would jump in behind you to make sure.
That made her smile. It also made it easier to breathe. I was down here waiting for you.
I thought you might be,
he said, walking over to pick up his duffel, but not before motioning her away from the dock’s edge.
You know, the water here is a lot colder than where you were born. I looked it up on the Internet in the library at school. I might have to be the one to save you from shock if you jumped in.
He laughed then. A huge laugh out of the middle of his chest that sounded like bamboo wind chimes. That is quite the possibility, Miss Maples. I am not sure I am looking forward to getting used to the cold.
They started walking up the dock, away from his boat toward the steps cut into the rock of the harbor’s natural entrance. He let her go first, and she liked the idea of having someone behind her to catch her if she slipped and fell. What she didn’t like was the idea of bashing her head open on the rocks and bleeding to death.
My mom wasn’t sure if you were going to get here before dark.
Your mother will learn soon enough that I am a man of my word.
She didn’t figure her mother would have hired him if he was a liar. Her mother hated liars. She’s cooking a whole bunch of food for supper. Well, her and Alexa are cooking. And baking apple pies.
And you did not help?
Emmy Rose ignored him for a second while she stepped from the staircase onto the sidewalk that ran along the edge of the coastal highway and separated the town of Comfort Bay from the road. She headed toward the boardwalk and her mom’s candy shop, using the path worn down in the grass instead of the fake bridge tourists used to get there.
I like to eat, but not really to cook,
she finally said, hearing the cold grass crunch beneath her boots.
Do you know how to cook?
Sorta,
she said. Her mom bugged her about it enough. She didn’t want him bugging her, too. It’s just with all the cooking for the stay-over guests and the candy for the shop, I get sick of everything being about cooking. I’d rather gut a fish and panfry it over a campfire.
Do you build your own camp fires?
Sure do,
she said proudly.
Can you do so without flint or a match?
Uh, well, no.
She wasn’t exactly a Boy Scout.
But you can catch and gut your own fish?
Yep.
She gave a big nod and kept walking. My dad’s a fisherman. He taught me everything.
Did he teach you how to catch a fish with your hands? Standing and waiting as a predator would?
No,
she said, frowning. We mostly fish from his boat when I get to go, which isn’t very much.
I see,
he said, but that was all.
What’s that supposed to mean?
she asked, stomping against the planks then stopping when she realized she couldn’t hear him walking. She hadn’t heard him on the grass or on the dock or now on the boardwalk. And so she turned around.
He was standing right behind her, looking down. It means you will never go hungry as long as you have a baited fishing hook and know how to make a fire.
Is that your sneaky way of telling me I need to learn how to cook?
She narrowed her eyes. He sure was bossy. Just not in the same way her mom and dad were bossy. They just ordered her around. He made her figure things out for herself.
He laughed again, but stopped as quickly as he’d started. I believe someone is calling your name.
I don’t hear anything—
But then she did. And she was so glad it was Alexa and not her mom.
This way she could get back into the house without her mom seeing that she wasn’t wearing her parka or hood. We better hurry. Dinner’s probably ready, and we’ll be in all kinds of trouble if we’re late. At least I’ll be in trouble. I can’t really see you getting in trouble with anyone.
He gestured with the hand that wasn’t holding on to his duffel bag strap and bowed like a gentleman. After you, Miss Maples. After you.
She giggled, and he smiled, his teeth as bright as the whites of his eyes and shiny against his dark skin. She smiled back, just knowing the Christmas holidays were going to be a lot more fun now that Ezra Moore had come to Comfort Bay.
Chapter 2
ALEXA COUNSEL WRAPPED her cardigan tighter and huddled deep inside the wool. She hurried down the sloped driveway from the bed and breakfast that was also the Maples’ home toward the path that cut across the lawn to the candy store whose business, when combined with that of the BB, brought in almost as much income for the family as did Danny Maples’s fishing tours.
Molly had told Alexa she was certain her daughter had gone down to the docks to wait for the handyman she’d recently hired. Danny’s bookings had picked up to the point that he had little time to spare around the house or for the BB these days, leaving Molly no choice but to pay someone to take care of what had always been her husband’s honey-do work. Finding help in the small fishing and tourist community of Comfort Bay on the Oregon coast was an iffy proposition.
With so many of the town’s residents self-employed in one of those two trades, the full-timers who weren’t retirees had their own work to keep them busy enough to put their teens to work as well. And since many of the part-timers flew south for the winter, that left Molly slim pickings.
Alexa trusted her friend to know what she was doing, but couldn’t help but wish Molly knew something about Ezra Moore. Something as in anything besides the fact that he happened to be in the Maple Sugar Shack the morning she put out the Help Wanted
sign and told her he’d take the job. He didn’t ask about hours. He didn’t ask about pay.
What he’d told her was that he was taking a sabbatical from a position teaching disadvantaged youths in his Caribbean island home. He wanted a change of scenery to stave off burnout, new experiences to share with his students, broader horizons with which to expand his teaching repertoire. As noble as it sounded in theory, Alexa wasn’t easily duped.
That said, she wasn’t the one desperate for someone to take over the repairs, maintenance, and odd jobs Danny wasn’t able to find time to fit in. And, really, she had no reason to doubt Mr. Moore’s claims. She’d come to Comfort Bay five years ago for a similar purpose. She’d stayed because, well, the small community was now her home. Her job was here. She had commitments. She had friends.
And that reminder had her scrambling across the lawn toward the back of the candy shop calling for Emmy Rose Maples to come home, her boot soles slipping on the damp grass, the even damper air kinking her hair around her face. If Ezra Moore was with Emmy Rose, all the better. The trip down would do double duty; on the way back, she could show him around the property for her friend.
If not, then once he arrived he’d have to find his own way to the Maples Inn. Comfort Bay’s population of just over twelve hundred guaranteed he could ask anyone he met on the street and come away with detailed directions. Five years later and Alexa, a California girl, was still getting used to that element of small-town living herself.
A-lex-a!
Alexa looked up from watching where she was walking and searched out Emmy Rose. The girl had just rounded the side of the Maples’ candy shop and waved hugely with both of her arms. Alexa waved back, her mirrored enthusiasm fading as she realized Molly’s daughter had, indeed, found the new handyman.
At least that was who Alexa assumed was following on the girl’s heels. And even knowing all she knew about Ezra Moore’s impending arrival, she had to bite down on her tongue to keep from screaming at Emmy Rose to run.
Even from this distance, Alexa had no trouble discerning that Ezra Moore was a formidably intimidating and dangerous man. He was still too far away for her to see his features clearly. She didn’t need to. She stood by her assessment. With every step he took, danger rippled in his wake like rings of water from a smoothly skipped stone.
It was in the way he never stopped soaking in his surroundings, looking over his shoulder as he hefted his duffel bag higher, lifting his chin as if listening to the sounds carried in on the ocean breeze, as if scenting anything in the air he found threatening or unfamiliar.
She had no idea how or why she saw all of that so clearly. She only knew that she did. She was not imagining the tingling at her nape, or the flesh on her arms pebbling from fright more than from cold. All she was doing was watching him, the tension in his stride, the stiffness in his posture, thinking that both of those even more than his skin color would cause him to stand out in Comfort Bay.
And then before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, Emmy Rose a buffer between them. Alexa met his eyes directly and held herself tighter as she shivered anew. She reached for Molly’s daughter and pulled the girl close. And only when she felt the small body tucked safely to hers did she hold out her hand.
I’m Alexa Counsel. A friend of Molly’s.
Alexa’s my teacher,
Emmy Rose added as Ezra swung his duffel to the ground. Except at school I have to call her Mrs. Counsel.
As is proper,
Ezra said, his eyes never leaving Alexa’s, his cool fingers swallowing hers, the music in his voice continuing to sing in her ears. I am Ezra Moore, Mrs. Counsel. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Smooth, dangerous and... damaged. She saw it in his eyes, bright and sharp but devoid of emotion, heard it in his words, which were still playing a tune. She felt it most of all in his touch, in the way he took too long to release her, waiting until she hit the edge of nervous discomfort before letting her go.
It’s actually Ms. Counsel. I’m divorced. But the kids knew me first as Mrs., so...
Blabbering. She was blabbering. Please. Call me Alexa.
Alexa.
He took in her hair, her mouth, the line of her jaw before his gaze returned to her eyes. His were nearly black, not so much like coal, more like... bottomless. She didn’t think she’d ever seen eyes quite so dark, and had yet to look away when he added, I am sorry for your loss.
Her loss?
Your husband,
Ezra supplied before she could ask. It was difficult for you, the loss, and I am sorry.
She backed up, straightening her spine and pulling Emmy Rose with her, putting one step between the two of them and Ezra, wanting to put more. Thank you, but I’m fine.
It was the only thing she could think of to say.
No one had ever realized the toll the breakup with Brett had taken. Molly and Rachel, her two best friends in Comfort Bay, had called him a cheating bastard and supplied her with chocolate, doing their best to keep her spirits from falling into a deep dark hole.
They’d fallen anyway, and she’d had to learn not to wear her private face in public. She hadn’t wanted them to know the truth of all she’d felt.
But Ezra knew.
He’d looked into her eyes and he’d seen the truth she tried to keep from herself. She had no idea how he’d done it. She hated that he had. She would have to work harder. Reveal less. Find a new trick to use to hide what she was feeling. One that would fool the keen eyes of perceptive strangers as well as her friends.
I’m hungry,
Emmy Rose said, squirming away from Alexa, her interruption breaking the coil of tension binding them, ready to snap. I’m going home.
Alexa watched the girl scramble up the hill, crossed her arms over her chest to ward off the chill, and followed. Behind her, Ezra hitched up his duffel and then fell into step at her side. Molly tells me you teach school.
He nodded; she saw it in profile. Yes. Already you and I have that in common.
Was he expecting them to have more? He had no reason to expect anything at all. He shouldn’t have even known she existed. Unless Molly had mentioned her to him. Alexa latched onto the change of subject and asked, What all has Molly told you about Comfort Bay? Maybe I can fill in the blanks for you. Or answer any questions?
You are not from this place originally, are you?
She avoided glancing over. Too much about him had already set her on edge. She did not need the reminder of his size. Or of his hard strength. She listened instead to the crunch and squish of the ground beneath their boots and wrapped her cardigan tighter.
I moved here five years ago. From L.A.
With your husband.
He wanted to get out of the city and give the quiet life a try.
He did not find it to his liking.
He grew tired of it. After a while. Yes.
Grew tired of her. Of their marriage, which had been comfortable but never passionate.
But you did not.
She had, but she’d stayed. She did not abandon friends or treat her commitments lightly. But yes. She missed the energy of the city, the excitement, the environment that stimulated her in ways Comfort Bay could not.
It took her a moment to realize Ezra was no longer walking beside her. She stopped, turned, snagged back strands of hair blowing into her face, but said nothing, waited instead for him to voice whatever he had on his mind, this man who was so very intriguing, so very... alive.
He didn’t make her wait long. I was wrong about you, Alexa Counsel. You don’t like it here at all.
She shook her head emphatically to disabuse him of the notion that he knew anything about her. To disabuse herself of the notion that he was right. I have some of the best friends here I’ve ever had in my life. I love my students. There are so many advantages to teaching in a small district. The teacher-student ratio for one. Of course there’s the disadvantage of less funding, but the pros really do make up for the cons.
None of that proves my assessment wrong.
This had to be the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had with a man she’d just met. Why are you so interested in how I feel about living here?
He tilted his head to the side, and she noticed for the first time the jagged scar like a lightning bolt running from his temple to his chin. It was old and faded, a wound from a long time ago, and it started her wondering about where he’d come from, the life he’d lived, how old he was now.
Because of what it tells me about you.
He smiled then, a slight movement of his mouth that revealed the deep groove of a dimple at odds with the intensity of the rest of his face.
She wasn’t buying whatever it was he was selling. No dangerously perceptive stranger was going to cause her to start doubting herself. And she was not, she told herself, was not the least bit intrigued by the dichotomy of his dimple and that lethal-looking scar.
You’re wrong,
she assured him—assured herself as well. I do like it here. I’m sure you will, too. Oh, one word of warning. If you stick around for any length of time, don’t be surprised if you get the sense that you’re living under a microscope. Comfort Bay is a very... friendly town.
This time when she started walking, he was quicker to catch up. He also moved closer to her side, their shoulders brushing, the breeze blowing the salty scent of the sea from his clothes into her path along with the clean smell of soap.
That will not be a problem. I am an open book.
He lifted his duffel bag higher. I have no secrets.
She didn’t believe a word that he said. She smiled politely, ignoring the prickles of premonition crawling down her spine, prickles telling her that his secrets were ones it might kill her to know.
Chapter 3
HIS CONTACT WAS DUE to arrive at the Maples Inn in ten days. Before then, Ezra had much to accomplish. And this unexpected distraction, this unforeseen knot in the straight line of his plans—if he did not nip it now, if he did not choke it off at the source—was going to get in his way.
Alexa Counsel was a beautiful woman uncertain if she feared him or not. He did not wish to frighten her, or to have her think that he posed any threat. He did, however, need to keep her at a distance, and to convince her that the distance was all her idea. It was a most effective tactic—one he had learned over time—to allow his opponents to believe they possessed a situation’s upper hand.
He had, as a child, been taught many of life’s lessons by the grandmother who had raised him in their Caribbean island home of San Torisco. It took living to understand her advice, and experience to put her words into practice. And still he faced the occasional challenge for which his childhood lessons and his years undercover left him ill-prepared.
At such times he could only rely on gut instinct, and that instinct told him he needed Alexa to push him away. If his time here was to be lucrative, his focus needed to remain tight. He had to immerse himself in his role, to do what he had to do for himself. He preferred that he not have to make a life or death choice for others who were innocent pawns.
At his side, Alexa laughed softly, the sound a gentle caress that touched him when he should have been immune. "I know all I have is a first impression to go by, but open book is not exactly how I see you. If so, I would only need to turn the page to