LITMIR.BIZ

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it, her vision blurred. Trying to focus on something besides the memory of her parents’ bodies amid the tornado debris, she reached for the button on the side of her bed and upped the volume on the TV. She scanned several channels until she found local news, then listened absently while poking at the food without eating it.

      It wasn’t until she heard the word Bordelaise that she realized the story was a report on the aftermath of yesterday’s storm. She focused in on the video clip, immediately recognizing the town square—or what was left of it—then turning her attention to what the on-site reporter was saying.

      “As of 7:00 a.m. this morning, there have been four confirmed deaths from yesterday’s tornado. Twenty-nine people have been hospitalized with injuries of varying severity, and one seven-year-old boy is still missing. Authorities have yet to confirm that his absence is due to the storm. The parents have been divorced for almost a year, and at this time, the authorities have not been able to locate the father, which has led to suspicions of family abduction.

      “The town itself has been devastated. Court was in session when the courthouse was hit. The nearby jail was also heavily damaged. Four prisoners who had been incarcerated there are still unaccounted for. As you can see from this clip, several farms in the surrounding area were also destroyed. This house, which was southeast of Bordelaise, was leveled, and all three occupants were killed.”

      Cari shuddered. The footage they were showing from the air was of her home—or what was left of it. Seeing the devastation from this perspective was even more shocking. Part of the smokehouse roof was in the pasture on the far side of her car. She was heartsick, wondering if her parents’ bodies had been recovered when this footage had been shot.

      Trying hard not to start weeping again, she reached for her orange juice and took a sip. Anything to shift her focus from the overwhelming need to cry. Then the door to her room opened and Mike Boudreaux walked in.

      It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed how handsome he was, and how well he wore his clothes, which today happened to be khaki-colored slacks and a navy blue polo shirt. She would have guessed that, as a teenager, some might have called him too pretty for a boy. But age had lent a measure of character to his face, honing angles and tightening muscles, and turning him into a very handsome man. Still, what he looked like was the last thing she needed to be thinking about.

      Mike didn’t know what had preceded his arrival, but he didn’t need to look twice to see what was going on. Between the tears in Carolina’s eyes, the uneaten food on her tray and what she was watching on television, she was seconds away from a meltdown.

      “Good morning,” he said, then leaned over the bed and turned off the TV. “How did you sleep? You aren’t eating your food, but on second thought, from the looks of your tray, smart move.”

      Cari’s misery shifted to fury when the television screen went dark. How dare he come in and start directing her life? She didn’t answer to him. If she wanted to spend the day bawling, it was her right. She was the one who’d lost her whole family. She was the one trying to dodge a killer.

      Mike saw the anger spreading over her face and knew hysterics had been averted when she picked up her fork and pointed it at him.

      “Thank you so much for stopping by. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” she said.

      It was all he could do not to grin. She was amazing. Carolina North might be down, but she was definitely not out. She might look like Susan, but she sure didn’t act like her. Susan had been a phenomenal assistant, but she never would have stood up to him like this. He watched as Carolina stabbed her fork into the food and took a bite of what were most likely tasteless scrambled eggs, eating as if they were the best thing she’d ever put in her mouth just because he’d implied the food was inedible. She spread jelly on the soggy toast and then ate until it was gone, all the while ignoring his presence.

      Satisfied that his ruse had worked, Mike watched her without comment. She might hate his guts, but for the moment, he would gladly bear the brunt of her anger. When she’d finished her meal, he decided to add a new topic.

      “The doctor is releasing you today.”

      The news was not unexpected, but at the same time, it was a little unsettling. Here, Cari felt safe. Once she was out on her own again, there were big decisions to make.

      “Good,” she said.

      “But he doesn’t recommend you stay on your own…at least not for the first week. I am issuing an invitation for you to come to my house. I know I ticked you off, but there was a reason behind it.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry I was so damn bossy, but do you still feel like crying?”

      Cari eyed the man with new appreciation as it began to soak in why he’d been so pushy.

      “No, I don’t. I guess I should say thank-you, both for your empathy and your offer.”

      “So…will you accept?” Mike asked.

      “At the risk of sounding unappreciative, I really don’t have a choice. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been so completely at the mercy of others. I will come stay with you, and I thank you for the offer.”

      Mike thrust his hand forward.

      “Truce?”

      Cari clasped it carefully.

      He nodded, satisfied that all was going according to plan. “I’m going down to the business office to settle your bill. When I come back we’ll—”

      “Wait!” Cari said. “You don’t need to do that. I have money.”

      Mike shook his head. “No. Carolina North had money. Susan has money, too, but I don’t think you’ve thought through the legal liabilities of your impersonation. You can’t spend Carolina’s money, because everyone thinks she’s dead, and right now you want them to go on thinking that. You can’t spend Susan’s money, because that would be theft, as well as fraud.”

      Cari groaned. “I hadn’t thought of it from that standpoint.”

      Mike gently touched the bandage on the side of her head. “That’s because you’ve got a monumental boo-boo on your thinker.”

      “A boo-boo on my thinker?”

      Mike grinned. “My nearest neighbors have a three-year-old. He’s one of my favorite people. I was borrowing some of his vocabulary to cheer you up.”

      Cari wondered if he knew how sexy he looked when he grinned, then ignored the thought. “Once again, I find myself thanking you for your generosity and compassion.”

      “No biggie,” Mike said, and handed her a business card. “This has my cell number, in case I’m not here when the doctor makes his rounds and gives you your marching orders. Just call me. I’ll come pick you up.”

      Cari took the card, then glanced up, studying the set of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones. He looked like a man used to getting his way. Still, she was grateful.

      “Thank you, Mike.”

      “You’re welcome, tough stuff.”

      Cari frowned. “Tough stuff?”

      “I can’t call you Carolina, for obvious reasons, and I’m not going to call you Susan. I call it like I see it, and you, my lady, are tough with a capital T.”

      Cari blinked. “Was that a compliment or a criticism?”

      “In the business world, they call me a corporate shark, because I do what I have to do to make something feasible and profitable, even when it’s at others’ expense. I don’t feel guilty for it. I’m not responsible for the mess the company I’m buying is in. They got there all by themselves. I’m just saving them from financial ruin in a way that works for me, too. You’re doing what you have to do to keep yourself safe, and at the same time, you’re seeking justice for a man you don’t know, all at your own risk. In my book, that makes you damn tough…and quite a woman.”

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