Dangerous Deception

Dangerous Deception
BEVERLY BARTON

Sometimes love is the most dangerous truth of all… For Lausanne Raney, romance meant nothing but trouble. Once it cost her her freedom and her baby girl. Now she’s got a respectable life…but desperately needs money to find her child. When she accepts an unusual offer from her wealthy employer’s daughter, she finds herself under deadly suspicion—and the unwanted protection of security agent Domingo Shea.Bad enough the courageously honest ex-Navy SEAL doesn’t completely trust Lausanne any more than she does him. But worse still, the instant electric attraction between them is impossible to resist.And the deeper their investigation goes, the more Lausanne struggles to convince Dom to leave her—for both their sakes. But with a ruthless killer lying in wait, there will soon be no safe place for her or Dom to hide…

Dangerous Deception

Beverly Barton

To “The Children” and their playground monitor:

Kira Bazzel, Kim Kerr, Andrea Laurence,

Marilyn Puett and Danniele Worsham.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

I SWEAR I’ LL FIND YOU .

Lausanne Raney ran the tip of her index finger over the blurry photograph, her touch gentle, almost reverent. Ten years ago, she had snapped this picture through the glass window that shielded the hospital nursery from the outside world. A thin barrier between her and her newborn daughter.

You have to know that I did what I thought was best for you. I was seventeen, with nobody who cared if I lived or died and not a cent to my name.

If she had it to do over again, would she still give her baby up for adoption? Pressing the snapshot to her breast, Lausanne clenched her teeth. She didn’t cry anymore. She hadn’t cried in years. Tears were useless. Self pity served no purpose.

Yes. The answer was yes. If circumstances were the same, then she’d still give away her child.

She’d known then, as she knew now, that allowing some childless couple to adopt her daughter had given the baby her only chance for a decent life.

Yeah, just look what a mess I’ve made of my life. If I’d kept you, I’d have screwed you up something awful. I couldn’t do that to you, sweet baby.

Lausanne placed the photograph back in the small box that contained only two other items. A tiny gold cross attached to a necklace that had belonged to her mother and Lausanne’s GED certificate that she had earned while serving five years in the state penitentiary.

But that was then. This is now. She had served her time, paid her debt to society. And God help her, she had learned her lesson. She couldn’t trust anybody, couldn’t depend on anyone but herself, didn’t dare risk falling in love again. Her track record with men sucked. Her first love had left her alone and pregnant. But that was nothing compared to lover number two. He’d robbed a convenience store while she waited in the car, oblivious to what he was doing. But in the eyes of the law, she had been his accomplice.

Lausanne closed the lid on the small box, then crossed the bedroom of her two-room apartment in Chattanooga, stood on tiptoe and slid the box onto the top shelf in her tiny closet.

She wasn’t going to live in a dump like this forever. One day, she’d have a nice place, a new car and pretty clothes. Someday. After she found out where her little girl was. While she’d been in the pen, she’d made herself two promises. One: When she got out, she’d work hard and build a good life for herself. Two: She’d find out where her daughter was and make sure she was well and happy and with a good family.

Lausanne checked her appearance in the cracked full-length mirror attached to the front of the closet door with rusty metal hinges. The entire outfit had cost her sixty bucks, but on her, the clothes looked more expensive. She had a knack for mixing and matching, for coordinating, for copying the styles she saw in magazines but using off-the-rack items from discount stores.

Today was step one in her plan to fulfill those promises to herself. Today she would begin a new job as a receptionist at Bedell, Inc. No more waitress jobs for her. And just as she’d been doing for the past six months when she’d been scratching by on minimum wage, part of each paycheck would go into a fund to hire a private agency to help her find her daughter.