Mac's Angels: The Last Dance: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read Free

that Sterling was calling. Just as he was hanging up, he added, “Ah, Sterling, it just occurred to me. I feel like I know you. We’ve talked on the phone for years, but how will I recognize you?”
    She felt a smile curl her lips. “I’m the only fool wearing a fur-lined hood and tinted glasses in New Orleans.”
    He laughed. “Lose the glasses, Sterling, and wait for me. And Sterling, if anyone threatens you, start screaming and don’t stop.”

    Sterling sat in the other corner of the bar, hiding behind the server’s stand, slowly sipping lukewarm coffee. Her eyes were tightly focused on the doorway. She’d identified herself to Mac, but he’d failed to give her a description of himself.
    How would she know him?
    Would he arrive before the police returned? Sterling wouldn’t think about what might happen if he didn’t. For more than a year after she’d been shot, she’d relived that horrible morning when a lone gunman had entered the office of Commonwealth Securities, killed her boss, a senior partner, and then shot her in the back.
    She’d been in the copy room, printing and collating brochures about a new stock offering. Arms full of brochures, she’d backed into his office, straight into the robber. Mr. Eldon was lying on the floor, bleeding to death, and his killer was emptying the safe. He turned a gun on her. And then she saw those cold eyes, the eyes of a murderer. When she screamed and whirled to run for help, he swore and pulled the trigger. As she’d lost consciousness the imprint of those hard, blue-gray eyes had etched themselves forever in her brain and eventually her nightmares.
    They never caught him. The bearer bonds he’d stolen were unmarked and never recovered. And Sterling was left unconscious with a bullet lodged dangerously near her spine.
    Now, ten years later, the fear and pain had returned. The man who’d shot her had become a senator’saide, possibly in a position to influence national policy. A murderer was the assistant to a man headed for the presidency? He’d killed a man ten years ago. What would he do to protect the life he’d built? She didn’t want to consider the possibilities.
    A glance at her watch told her that fifteen minutes had passed.
    What if Mac didn’t come?
    But he did. Striding into the bar, a man wearing a baseball cap and a leather bomber’s jacket stopped in the center and looked around, and then he saw Sterling. With a quick nod, he slid into the booth beside her. “I’m Mac.”
    “Yes.” You certainly are, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “I’m Sterling.”
    Compact, with a nose that might have been broken once, Lincoln McAllister was nothing like Sterling expected.
    He was much more.
    His deep, calm voice was deceptive, designating only the persona he created for the public. She would have recognized that voice anywhere. It didn’t match the man.
    But neither did the lifestyle she knew he lived; His clothes were casual, yet expensive. His hair, a dark blond, was showing hints of silver at the edges. It was thick and long, curling to the collar of his blue denim shirt. Everything about him spoke of power. He was like some old-world warrior ready to do battle in an arena.
    “Sterling,” he was saying. “Listen to me. Wehave to move quickly. I saw the suits searching the airport for you. They’re not even trying to hide their efforts.”
    It was obvious that he didn’t know. She wanted to explain her problem to him, but all she could do was stare. She must look like an animal, frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car. “Mac, I …”
    “Don’t try to explain. Right now I don’t care why they’re looking for you. We have to get you out of here without giving them a chance to take you into ‘protective’ custody.”
    She nodded approvingly, grateful and relieved that Mac was by her side.
    “Now, here’s what we’re going to do. You and I are going to the private area of the airport. My plane is refueling and getting ready for