Prologue
Planet Terra Nova
Marshall entered All Fired Up to find Amity Landers straightening the pottery on the shelves with utmost precision.She’s either nervous or trying to look busy.“All ready to go?” he asked.
“Ready!” Her eager, happy smile bit into his conscience.She cares way too much already.
I’m not who you think I am. Don’t care for me. Please, don’t.
Funny, he hadn’t realized he had a conscience. What a time to find out. Why now? Why her? Feelings complicated matters, and regret changed nothing. He would do what he had to. He wouldn’t let guilt over hurting some woman jeopardize his freedom.
He’d placed himself in enough risk trying to save John Bragg’s ass.I should have been on my way to Refuge already.
“The bistro, you said?” He confirmed their date plans. He’d had her suggest a restaurant since he was “new in town.” Due to his reconnaissance, he probably knew more about Willow Wood than she did.
“Unless you’d prefer something else.”
“Nope. I defer to your better judgment.” He flashed a practiced grin.
“Ah well, my judgment could be suspect—except I can pick a good restaurant. Willow Wood only has three of them.” She giggled, her laughter light, feminine, and sweet like her voice, youthful like her appearance. Her eyes, highlighted by a skillful application of cosmetics, sparkled. She could pass for a decade younger than the forty-two he knew her to be. Medium-lengthbrunette hair, showing not a trace of gray—unlike his—gleamed under the shop lights.
She’d intended her comment as a joke, but there’d been truth in her jest. Her judgmentwasquestionable—if she’d been more discerning, she’d have seen through his mask of charm. He intended her no harm, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any. He hoped not, and the sooner he got what he needed, the better off she’d be.
He had to find Bragg and get them the fuck off this planet.
“Only three, really?” he replied, aware the village had three eateries, one inn, a grocer, and a handful of specialty shops, of which All Fired Up was one. Co-owner Amity managed the business, while her friend and partner, Faith Hammond, made the pottery.
“Willow Wood is tiny. I haven’t visited any other townships, but from what I understand, they’re small, too,” she explained.
The government restricted Terra Nova’s growth and development to prevent the excesses and pitfalls of the urbanity plaguing Earth. He’d done his homework on the planet, the town, and the inhabitants. The training drilled into him by Dark Ops had become second nature.Know before you go.
“Should we leave?” he asked.
“Let’s. I made reservations for 7:15, and it’s almost that. Fortunately, it’s a quick walk.”
As they exited, she shut off the lights and locked up the shop. Outside, solar streetlamps cast a candlelight glow on the cobbled lane and her attractive features. Her eyes were huge in her radiant face. He tried not to stare, but he was a man, and she was a very pretty woman.
He dropped his gaze to her feet. She wore feminine shoes, the heel low, no doubt in deference to the uneven cobblestones. He estimated her height at five five, maybe five six, not short, but compared to his six-foot-five frame, tiny, vulnerable.
He took her hand, and their fingers meshed in a perfect fit that felt entirely too intimate, given his intentions. She smiled up at him trustingly, and he smiled falsely. Her subtle, floral perfume wafted up to tease his nostrils. Despite the shield he’d erected, he found himself inhaling, wishing, dreaming what-if.
Damn you, Bragg, for putting me in this position.
He had to stay focused. Freedom was within sight. He could almost touch it.
She’d changed clothes since he’d come by the shop earlier in the afternoon to pump her for information. Replacing her workaday slacks and tunic, she’d donned a cornflower-blue dress with long sleeves and a form-fitting bodice with a scoop neckline hinting at cleavage. The full skirt brushed against her shapely legs as they strolled.
“So, the café is one restaurant.” He pointed to the coffee shop across from All Fired Up. “The bistro we’re going to is the second. What’s the third?” he asked to make conversation, already knowing the answer. What he didn’t know was where the hell Bragg had gone.
“The Rice Palace. Chinese. Terra Nova’s version anyway. Not very authentic.”
“Chinese?” He faked a laugh. “How did they choose that one?”
“I think they’re trying to avoid duplication. I hear the village to the east has an Italian place, and there’s a Mexican restaurant to the south, so…Chinese. Fortunately for us, Bea’s Bistro picks up the slack. Bea makes excellent lasagna and burritos. By the way—we’re here.” She stopped them outside a tiny eatery.
He opened the door to a packed restaurant redolent with appetizing aromas. “Good thing you made reservations.”
The restaurant was more spacious than it appeared from the street, and the hostess showed them to a cozy out-of-the-waytable for two. The scent of food caused his stomach to growl audibly.
