Mary Burton - Wise Moves

He lifted a brow. “It’s either I check you out or we take you to the doctor.”

“Okay, check.”

He pressed his large hands to her rib cage under her loose top. Her breathing had gone shallow. It had been almost a year since she’d been with a man. But she’d only known this man less than a day. He was a stranger. A very dangerous stranger.

Yet, emotion and desire overruled reason. She’d been alone for so long and she wanted to feel connected to someone, if only for a short while.

Sensing the first move would have to be hers, she rose up on tiptoes and gently kissed his lips.

Dear Reader,

Yoga is one of my passions and for the past four years I’ve been a dedicated student. During yoga classes my mind often wanders off to that quiet place where my stories are born. It was during a yoga class that I caught my first glimpses of Kristen and Dane, the heroine and hero of Wise Moves, which of course is set in a yoga studio. Kristen and Dane begin their journey as lost souls, but despite it all they bravely face the threats in the physical world. Their reward is inner peace that allows each to love the other.

I hope Wise Moves keeps you on the edge of your seat, touches your heart and for just a little while takes you away from the hectic pace of the outer world.

Have a safe and happy summer!

Mary Burton

www.mirabooks.co.uk

sold her first novel in 1999 and since then has written eight Harlequin Historical novels. Wise Moves is her third contemporary novel for Silhouette Intimate Moments. Burton not only enjoys a variety of hobbies, including yoga, hiking and scuba diving, but also recently tackled her first triathlon. A graduate of Hollins University, she is based in Richmond, Virginia, where she lives with her husband and two children.

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

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Danger surrounded Elena Benito.

The dark sensation had grown steadily since she’d returned to Miami yesterday, winding her nerves tighter than a drum. At 9:00 a.m., just six hours from now, she was scheduled to testify against her brother, drug kingpin Antonio Benito.

Unable to sleep, Elena paced the small furnished room of the FBI’s Dade County safe house. Feeling trapped, she sat on the twin bed, picked up the TV remote, clicked on the small television and started surfing. But none of the B-movies, late-night talk shows or infomercials distracted her from her fears. Her brother was out there, looking for her, and he wanted to punish her.

She clicked off the television. The house’s old air-conditioning system couldn’t overcome the hot, humid July air, making it difficult to breathe.

Rising, Elena flexed and released her fingers. She had to get out of this room.

She opened her bedroom door, which fed into the living room furnished with bamboo furniture and a green shag carpet. Flowery drapes covered a large picture window by the wooden front door.

This room felt as foreign as the safe house in New Mexico where the FBI had hidden her. Out west, she’d dreamed of getting out of the mountains and returning to the Miami she loved. She longed for her beloved beaches and the sight of the ocean. But now as she stared around this seedy house, she realized the Miami she’d loved was lost to her forever.

Police officers Jack Mendez and Nancy Rogers were the Miami officers assigned to guard Elena until the FBI detail picked her up at seven. The police officers’ voices and the click of cards shuffling drifted out from the kitchen.

Both Rogers and Mendez had called this operation a routine gig, but there was nothing routine about any of this. The officers, like everyone else involved in her brother’s murder trial, knew how much rode on her testimony. The Feds had been after Antonio for years. But they’d never been able to pin anything on him until Elena had told police she’d witnessed her brother kill six members of a local Miami church.

The “Churchmen,” as they were known by the press, had effectively stopped the drug trade in their neighborhood with peaceful sit-ins and a neighborhood watch program. Angered by sagging profits, Antonio had decided to send all he knew a message by murdering the men. He’d forced Elena to witness the killings because she, too, was being taught a lesson: Never run from me again.

Elena had begged for the lives of the men, but Antonio had showed no mercy and shot each in cold blood. It had taken her another nineteen days before she’d found another opportunity to escape Antonio. This time, when she ran, she had gone to the police. She had identified her brother as the shooter and he had been arrested.

She moved silently through the house to the open kitchen door. Mendez stood at the kitchen sink as a coffeepot brewed. His white Guayabera shirt accentuated rich brown skin. “My old lady was talking about buying a bigger house.”

Nancy sat at a yellow Formica kitchen table and shuffled a worn deck of cards. The room’s pineapple wallpaper and appliances dated back to the fifties. “Her high-dollar tastes are gonna break you, Mendez.”

Mendez’s full mustache twitched when he smiled. “Nah, I can handle her.”

Nancy dealt two hands. “That’s what they all say.”

Floorboards under Elena’s feet squeaked as she crossed the threshold. Immediately the officers’ gazes whipped around. Nancy was already reaching for her gun.

Elena rubbed smooth hands over designer jeans. “I’m sorry. I just wanted a glass of water.”

Nancy clipped her gun back in the holster and smiled. “Sure.”

“I’ll get it,” Mendez said.

As Mendez filled a glass with tap water, Nancy stood. “Is everything in your room okay?”

Elena hugged her arms around her chest. “It’s fine.”

There was softness in Nancy Rogers’s eyes when she nodded. “It will all be over soon.”

Elena tried to take comfort from the officer’s words, but found the ominous dread in her would not stop growing. “Yes.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Nancy said. “Your brother is a monster and he needs to be put away.”

Elena had never expected that doing the right thing would be so hard. “It’s what must be done.”

A sound from the street caught Nancy’s attention. “Did you hear something?”

Mendez shut the tap off and set the glass on the counter. He peaked through the kitchen’s miniblinds. “Looks like the transfer team arrived early.”

Elena’s fingers trembled as she pushed back the cuff of her silk blouse and checked the Rolex on her slim wrist. “They’re four hours early.” She suddenly felt cold, as if Death had brushed past her.

Nancy’s hand slid to the holster clipped to her jeans. “I don’t like it.”

“He’s here,” Elena whispered as she stepped back. She hated being afraid, being a coward. “He’s come to kill me.”

Nancy shook her head, puzzled by Elena’s words. “Who? Antonio? He’s not here.”

Elena shook her head, unable to deny the feelings in her. “He’s sent people to kill me.”

“Don’t borrow trouble, Ms. Benito. It could be nothing,” Nancy said.

Instinct whispered differently.

Nancy switched off the living room light and moved past Elena into the dark room. She peeked out thick curtains covering the picture window. “It makes sense they’d change the schedule. I just wish they’d told us.”