Divine Intervention

Prologue


"This is just too freakin' easy," Heather Prescott murmured to herself.

She smiled with wicked amusement from her hiding spot as she watched her newly assigned security team swing back and forth through the crowded mall like bloodhounds that had lost the scent. It was the third time this month Heather had lost the security guys assigned to her.

Who did Scott think he was dealing with? She'd been trained by the best security man in the business, Walker Moore. He was head of her father's security team as well as his business partner in one of the world's most elaborate and high tech security firms. She'd cut her teeth on outwitting that man.

Heather turned to leave the mall before they spotted their prey and her one chance at freedom would be shot to hell. She grabbed her keys from her purse and jogged across the parking lot as fast as her three-inch Jimmy Choos would allow. Okay, maybe the shoes had been a bad choice, but if she'd worn sneakers, her team would have been suspicious. She hardly ever wore sneakers. Matter of fact, the last pair she'd bought four months ago were still in the box unopened.

With a sigh of utter contentment, Heather climbed into her tiny BMW convertible and put the key in the ignition. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one had followed her or thought to check the parking lot. Knowing those halfwits, they were still searching the halls, not once thinking she might have actually left the building.

You'd think after three times this month, they would have figured it out by now. With a flip of a switch, the canvas top slid open with a soft roar and she smiled up at a beautiful, clear blue sky.

She adjusted her sunglasses before putting the car in gear and quickly speeding out of the crowded parking lot and onto the main highway. She turned up the radio so she could hear the music over the rush of the wind. Nickelback blared loudly through the speakers and she laughed, throwing her hands briefly to the sky with a squeal. She loved driving with the top down, but her security team usually forbid it. Too dangerous, they would argue.

She scrunched her nose. Sometimes ... no scratch that ... most of the time, she hated being Senator Prescott's daughter. She loved her dad, she really did, but this public life was not for her. She hated it with a passion. She had no privacy, no freedom. Every move she made was scrutinized.

"Don't do that, it makes you look trashy."

"Don't wear that, it makes you look inappropriate."

"Don't say that, you might ruin your father's chances at reelection."

Heather rolled her eyes. The only bright spot to going home anymore was Walker.

Glancing in her rearview mirror, she noticed the same Chevy Explorer she'd seen when she’d left the parking lot. She frowned, suddenly becoming a little nervous. Walker had taught her to watch her back, to always check behind her and she did it now religiously.

Wondering if the car was following her, she took a quick right onto another four-lane road. He turned right as well and her hands tightened around the steering wheel in alarm.

"It's probably nothing," she chided, keeping an eye on the vehicle.

He kept a good distance, never increasing his speed or slowing down. She moved to the left lane to circle around a large eighteen-wheeler. The SUV did the same and she scowled. Up ahead was an exit. She sped up, veered in front of the semi, took the exit, then made a left onto a two-lane highway heading south toward Richmond.

So did the SUV.

"Shoot," she sighed as she adjusted her seat, sitting up straighter. "This isn't good. Daddy's going to kill me. That is if there's anything left once Walker gets done with me."

She glanced around, wondering where to go next, then realized her mistake. They'd left the city and the scenery was becoming much more rural, the houses much further apart. What the hell had she been thinking? She knew better than to do this.

“Okay, okay," she said to herself. "Don't panic. Think. What would Walker do?"

She needed to get back to the city, crowded roads and lots of public eyes ... fast. The SUV increased its speed, coming up fast in her rearview mirror. There was no one else on the road. She was completely alone and the fear suddenly gripping her chest made her want to hurl.

She pressed on the gas, making her convertible BMW's engine rev. The SUV behind her had a more powerful engine and overtook her quickly--a little too quickly. He tapped at the rear of her car with his chrome grill, forcing her car forward with a jerk. She gasped, moving her hands to the ten and two position on the wheel and holding tight.

What the hell should she do?

She glanced in her mirror again and an idea came to her. She braced herself, slamming hard on the brakes. She gasped as her car's rear end fishtailed slightly but she held the wheel steady, as well as her breath, as the SUV zipped past her on the right-hand shoulder to avoid hitting her.

Turning the wheel hard, she swerved into a gravel drive, then back onto the road, doing a complete one-eighty just like she'd been taught. The back tires sent gravel and dust flying as she returned to the concrete highway. Behind her, the SUV was much slower to turn, giving her several precious minutes to hopefully outrun him.

Walker had always warned her this could happen. She knew her father was constantly investigating criminals, both blue collar and white. He had a reputation for going after the bad guys both in and out of Washington. Walker had been worried someone would try to get to him through her, hence the ever-present and overprotective security detail. Why the hell hadn't she listened?

She reached forward and pressed the OnStar button. A voice broke through and said, "This is OnStar. How may I help you, Ms. Prescott?"

"Scott Wilmington's cell, please."

Scott was over her security detail. He'd be pissed as hell, but maybe he could help her out somehow. The SUV was quickly gaining ground, its silver grill coming up fast in her mirror.

"Damn son of a bitch," she yelled. "What the hell do you want?"

Scott answered after the second ring, "Heather, this had better fucking be you."

"Scott, I'm in trouble!" she yelled over the wind.

She squealed as the SUV bumped her car. Sweat made her palms slide along the wheel as she tried to get a better grip. Her heart raced wildly as she glanced at the speedometer in surprise. Eighty?

"What do you mean you're in trouble? Where are you?"

"I don't know; some two lane highway. I was headed home when... Oh, shit, shit." She braced for another hard tap of the SUV's grill.

"Heather!" he snapped.

"Some idiot in a black SUV is trying to run me off the road," she snapped. "I can't get away from him."

"Outrun him."

"Oh, yeah," she snarled sarcastically. "Like my little six cylinder is going to outrun a SUV with a damn Hemi engine!"

The Explorer came around to her left and she swallowed hard against the desire to scream. She could try the brake thing again, get behind him.

"Scott," she squealed, her fear showing in her shaky voice. "He's gonna knock me off the road."

"What road are you on?"

The front end of the Explorer smacked the side of her car, just behind the driver's door. He pushed her to the right, but she swerved back, hitting his passenger door. The whole idea of fighting back in her tiny little car was ludicrous. It was like a Chihuahua trying to fight off a Doberman.

The trembling in her hands made it hard to keep the wheel straight, but she refused to give in to panic. She could do this.

"Heather," Scott yelled.

She’d forgotten about him. "I'm still here," she said as she braced for another hit from the SUV. "At least for now."

Groaning, she held the wheel straight, fighting the car's desire to go to the right. She shook her head, realizing she was going to lose this one. The SUV jerked to the right, clipping her hard at the front wheel. She swerved, losing control and skidding off the road and into the woods. A tree hurtled toward her, and locking her arms on the wheel, she braced for the impact.

Metal screamed, glass shattered, her head hit the wheel. The airbag exploded, burning the inside of her arms. Her car shuddered, then died. Smoke drifted around her nose and she coughed, squinting against her blurring vision and the blinding pain in her forehead.

Blood trickled down her face and into her eyes but she couldn't seem to raise her arm to wipe it away. The SUV had turned around and sat just a few yards away idling on the side of the road. It just sat there, as though waiting. Her heart fluttered like a captured bird. If he wanted to finish her off, she didn't have the strength to fight him.

"Heather!" she heard Scott yell.

"Ms. Prescott," the OnStar voice came through the car speakers, effectively cutting off Scott. "I received a signal your airbags have deployed. Do you need assistance?"

"Yes," she whispered, barely able to speak as darkness closed in.

"Ms. Prescott, if you can hear me, help is on the way to your GPS location."

The SUV drove away and she breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Tell Walker I'm sorry," she whispered, then everything went black.



Chapter One



"Good morning, Walker."

"Good morning, Senator," Walker replied as he folded his newspaper and laid it on the table next to his coffee cup.

The morning sun felt good against his face, but his tranquil mood faltered the second Senator Jack Prescott walked onto the patio. Jack had been pestering him for days to once again head up the security taking care of his daughter, but Walker intended to refuse.

What he felt for Heather ... the things he imagined doing to her every time he set eyes on her were not professional. Hell, considering their difference in ages, it was damn inappropriate.

He was thirty-seven and she was twenty-four. Until recently he had seen her as the little girl he'd taken care of, the teenager he’d fought with and helped with her homework. It had been his job and she his responsibility. At least, until he’d found himself thinking things he shouldn't have. That's when he'd assigned someone else to watch after her full time and fast. He remained in the shadows, close by but not close enough to get himself into trouble.

His feelings hadn't lessened over time. This past Christmas party had certainly made that loud and clear. The second he saw her across the room, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Gone were the gangly legs he remembered from her youth and in their place they had become long, muscular and tan. She'd ditched the braids for long, softly curling auburn hair he itched to slide his fingers through. Beautiful green eyes that could pierce a man with a look, or narrow seductively to set his blood on fire.

The last thing he needed to be was head of her security detail. Unfortunately, he'd had a hard time coming up with a good excuse for turning the senator down.

"Where did you run off to yesterday?" Walker asked. "You know I'm supposed to know every move you make."

Jack patted Walker's shoulder as he walked by. "We'll get to that. Have you thought any more on my proposal?" The Senator sat down across from him.

"Yes and while I appreciate the offer--"

"It's not really an offer anymore. It's more of a ... demand."

Walker raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Someone ran Heather off the road."

Walker sat forward in his chair, his body tense. "What? When?"

Jack held up his hand. "She's fine. It happened yesterday. That's where I went. I didn't say anything to you because I wanted you to remain here in my place and finish up the company business. I also didn't want you to worry, which I knew you would. I believe the same men that have been threatening me are now trying to go after her."

"Where the hell was her security when this happened?"

"Where do you think, Walker? Trying to find her."

Walker rolled his eyes in frustration. "She ditched them again?"

The senator nodded and Walker sighed, knowing what was coming and knowing without a doubt, he'd agree to it. He couldn't let anything happen to Heather and he didn't trust anyone else to do the job right. Hell, no one else could keep up with her. If he was correct and the men who'd been threatening the senator were now after Heather, she was in serious danger.

"I need you on this, Walker. I trust you. You're probably the only one I trust."

"I'll do it," he conceded, albeit reluctantly.

Jack sighed in relief. "Thank you, Walker."

Walker nodded. "Where is she now?"

"Still in the hospital."

Walker tensed. "The hospital? Just how bad was this wreck, Jack?"

The senator raised an eyebrow as eyes so much like Heather's watched him with interest. "When her airbags deployed, OnStar sent an ambulance to her location. When the paramedics found her, she was still unconscious and they transported her immediately to the nearest hospital. She took a pretty hard hit to her forehead, so the doctors kept her overnight for observation."

Walker frowned and Jack sent him a small smile of understanding. "She's fine otherwise, but will be sore for a day or two. The police believe she was doing about sixty when she hit the tree. The car's pretty much totaled."

"Good. I hated that damn thing anyway. It's was death trap," Walker grumbled. "Who's with her? Not the idiots who lost her, I hope."

"No. We posted two guards outside her room from our company. Everyone but Scott was let go."

Walker nodded in agreement. "When is she coming home? I assume you're having her brought here?"

Jack unfolded his napkin and placed it across his lap. "I just received a call from Scott, they should be headed home within the hour. He also informed me she's not happy about this."

"Great. She's run off the road and still doesn't see a need for bodyguards."

Heather was stubborn as hell. If she wasn't happy about this, more than likely that meant she was fighting them on it.

Jack snickered. "That's our Heather. You know her better than the other men. You've been with us since she was twelve. You'll know how to handle her."

Yeah, put her over his knee.

The very image made his cock twitch in his pants. "Disciplining a twenty-four-year-old, my guess anyway, is slightly different than disciplining a twelve-year-old," Walker replied with humor.

A cat-that-ate-the-canary grin played about the senator's mouth, making Walker frown. "Well ... I'm sure you'll manage," Jack replied.

Walker snorted. "Knowing Heather, I doubt it."

The senator turned serious as he stared at Walker. "Keep her safe. Whatever it takes. Put her in hiding, kidnap her if need be, but don't let them get their hands on her. Whatever you need is at your disposal."

Walker grinned. "I think I'll be fine. Belts, ropes and ball gags are relatively easy to get a hold of."

Jack chuckled. "Surely you're not saying Heather is difficult, Walker? I thought the two of you got along quite well."

Too well.

"We get along well enough, I suppose. The few times I've seen her lately, anyway. I just remember those teenage years and that stubborn streak that made me want to strangle her."

"Oh, God, I remember those days as well. She really knew how to push your buttons, didn't she?"

"It was more the games of hide and seek she used to play. She was way too good at sneaking off."

"She still is. This was the third time this month she was able to ditch her team."

Walker sighed. Some things never changed. Reaching out, he picked at the linen napkin lying next to his coffee cup. "She always hated the security around her, the constant watching of everything she did."

Until she turned eighteen and she realized what he felt for her went far beyond protector--realized he found her attractive and felt things for her he had no business feeling. That was the night he'd kissed her--the night he'd almost done something he could have been fired for.

He'd never forgotten the feel of her soft curves beneath his hands, the feel of her mouth against his, the sweet taste of her lips or the sound of her whimpers as he'd pressed her against the wall, showing her with his body exactly what he'd wanted to do to her.

He'd shocked her that night. And himself. He could still see clearly her wide eyes full of desire, love, and innocence. It was that small hint of innocence that had brought him to his senses--that had made him stop. She was his boss's daughter, his job.

He'd yelled at her more harshly than he'd meant and the hurt that had clouded her eyes still made his gut clench. She'd wanted him, he knew that. And after that night, she’d never let an opportunity pass to taunt him. Even in her sexual innocence she'd been a force to be reckoned with. But he had no business touching her, wanting her.

She was now an adult. A very gorgeous, very sassy adult and he still wanted her, but he also still felt she needed to be hands off. She was still his boss's daughter and still his job. Nothing more and he needed to remember that.


* * * *


Heather sat in the back of the black SUV and rubbed her hand over the bruise discoloring her forehead. What a homecoming, she thought to herself as they pulled into the drive.

Would Walker be there? Probably.

Her heart jumped in her chest at the thought of seeing her gallant protector again. She'd first met him when she was twelve. She had been his first assignment when he’d signed on with her father's staff of security. He hadn't been happy about it either, but he'd grown to like her.

He'd teased her often, like a big brother teasing his little sister. He was thirteen years her senior but that didn't stop her from increasingly finding him attractive. As she got older, she’d gone from wanting good-night hugs, to good-night kisses. She’d fantasized about his touch, his kiss, his embrace.

She'd fallen in love with him at an early age and she still loved him.

Closing her eyes, she remembered last Christmas. He'd stood talking to her father, his dark black hair cropped short, tiny flecks of gray tickling his temple. He used to always tell her she'd make him gray before his time, but she liked the gray. It made him look distinguished.

Gray-blue eyes had met hers across the room and smoldered like molten metal. She'd smiled and he'd returned that smile, deepening the lines around his eyes, and she'd wanted nothing more than to run to him, touch him, feel his body against hers. Memories of that night weren't enough anymore.

While away at college, she'd always been so afraid he'd meet someone else--fall in love with someone else. But he hadn't. She'd always tried to tell herself it was because he loved her too, he just didn't want to admit it. More than once that night at the party, she'd caught glimpses of the same longing in his gaze she felt in her heart. He still wanted her.

During the months since Christmas, she'd worked out her plan. She was determined to make him admit it, to finally get him to lose his control and finish what he'd started that night when she was eighteen.

She frowned. Coming home with a bruised face wasn't exactly how she'd wanted to start this plan off, but you work with what you're given. She'd make the best of it.

The car came to a stop in front of the two-story New Orleans-style house. This is where she'd been raised--high in the mountains of Virginia, far from the prying eyes of Washington. It was home.

With a sigh, she straightened her back in preparation for facing her father again and winced at the dull ache traveling her spine. He loved her, she knew that. But he'd left no doubt in her mind at the hospital yesterday he was furious with her shenanigans.

"No more ditching your team, Heather, and I damn well mean it," he'd shouted. "You were almost killed this time."

Now that she'd had time to think about it, she didn't think it had been that close, although at the time, she might have thought differently. Yes, the car had deliberately run her off the road, but into a tree not off a cliff. Nor did he stay to finish the job, thank God. He'd driven off. His intent hadn't been to kill her, but to send a warning.

But a warning for what?

Unfortunately, her father hadn't been too forthcoming with any details. Just an order that her team would bring her back home and she would from now on be glued at the hip to Walker.

She smiled slightly at the image. She could certainly handle being glued to his hip. Looked forward to it, even. With a snort, she wondered what Walker thought of all this. He was livid, she was sure. Both at her antics and the fact he was now back in charge of her.

The driver opened the door and she glanced up at Scott, the only member of her team left. His glare said everything.

"I hope Walker knows what he's in for," he snarled.

"He knows," Walker replied from behind him and Heather's breath caught at the sound of his deep, raspy voice.

Scott turned to stare at Walker and when he did, it gave her a perfect unobstructed view and her breath caught in her throat. God, he looked so damn good. She rarely saw him in jeans, but he wore them today. His beige T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, outlining his pecs. Strong, muscular arms flexed as he pulled them behind his back, clasping his hands like a kid trying to not touch something. His gun was close by at his trim waist. He never went anywhere without it and vaguely she wondered if he slept with it as well.

She glanced back up at his face, which had the stern, disapproving look she remembered from her teenage years.

Oh, yeah. He was pissed.

She swallowed, positive the heat in his eyes would singe her if she got too close. Even his full lips were thinned out, clamped tight as he stared down at her, the muscle in his cheek jerking as he worked his jaw in anger. She was sure she would get it and the thought disappointed her somewhat. This wasn't how she'd wanted things to start out this trip.

"Welcome home, brat," he said and she cringed at the name he'd given her as a child. It was a constant reminder that's how he preferred to see her. As a child.

"Brat's right," Scott snarled. "Do have any idea how much trouble she is?"

Walker shot him a glare. "Do you have any idea how close you are to losing your job?"

"Stop, seriously," Heather snapped as she climbed slowly from the SUV. "It's not his fault, it's mine and you know it. Or you should know it, you were certainly the recipient of my behavior enough. Besides, I have a killer headache and don't want to listen to it. Walk with me to my room, Walker," she ordered a little more harshly than she'd intended.

Scott snorted and Walker raised an eyebrow, a slight hint of amusement darkening his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Heather sighed and gave him her best apologetic smile as she rubbed at her sore neck. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, I have a headache and my body feels like it's been beaten with a bat. That came out way more bossy than I intended."

Walker frowned as he studied her forehead. He raised his hand, gently brushing her bangs from her brow. He touched the bruise with his thumb and she winced, pulling her head back in reflex, hissing softly through her teeth at the stab of pain that one gentle touch caused. His hand fell away and disappointment tightened her chest. He didn't touch her often but whenever he did, it never failed to send a stream of fluttery sensations to every part of her.

"Did they give you anything for that?" he asked.

She'd swear she saw concern in his gaze, and her heart leapt in her chest. "Yeah. I think that's why I'm so moody."

Walker grunted. "What's your excuse the rest of the time?"

"Ha, ha," she snarled. "Aren't you the clever comedian?"

Walker smiled and heat pulsed through her veins. He was so gorgeous when he smiled. "Just like old times," he replied.

"Ugh! I just want to go to bed, Walker." She turned and trudged up the front porch steps, Walker following along behind. "I've already had a thorough chewing out by Dad, please don't give me any grief. Save it for when I'm more myself and can better retaliate."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied sarcastically.

She stopped with her foot on the last step and turned to glare at him. He was close enough to be eye level with her, close enough she could see the tiny flecks of deep blue in his irises, close enough she could smell his musky scent. Words immediately failed her.

"Do you need something ... Heather?" he asked.

His voice had a deeper, huskier tone and she wondered if their closeness was affecting him like it was her.

"Yeah, I need something." She frowned. "It's doubtful you'll give it to me though, if past experience is any indication."

His lips twitched as though fighting a smile. "If you're referring to the spanking you deserve, you're liable to get that sooner than you think."

Her stomach flipped at the thought of being spanked by him. "Careful, Walker. I'm not twelve anymore and the threat of a spanking is no longer punishment, but foreplay."

Walker swallowed and she mentally tallied up the score with satisfaction.

Heather one, Walker, zero.


* * * *


Walker stood half in and half out of Heather's bedroom doorway, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. The last thing he needed was to see her standing next to a bed--a bed he wanted desperately to throw her on and have his way with her, show her how damn much he'd missed her and that sassy mouth. He sighed and ran his hand down his face.

He was too old for this teenager-type lust. He had better control of himself than that, so why did he get a hard on every time she was within ten feet of him? His reactions to her drove him insane.

He heard her wince and chastised himself for being such a horny ass. She struggled to get out of the short-sleeve jacket. She moved slow, too slow. It was obvious she was in discomfort and here he was thinking about screwing her. Putting his never-ending thoughts of sex aside, he frowned and walked forward.

"I've got it," he said as he grasped the back of the jacket, and helped her slip it off her arms.

"Thanks, Walker," she said softly.

She threw him a tired smile over her shoulder that made him want to cradle her in his arms.

He looked away, clearing his throat. "Do you need anything? I can have one of the kitchen staff bring something up."

"No." She sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. "I just want to know what's going on. Why would someone run me off the road? What's Dad investigating this time?"

Walker's lips lifted into a sideways grin. "Hedge funds and naked short sales."

"Two things that go together like peanut butter and jelly," she replied sarcastically. "Let me guess. He thinks the two banks that failed were brought down by an onslaught of anonymous naked short sales."

"Yes. Deliberately brought down and from the looks of things," he said, nodding his head toward her. "He must be getting pretty close."

"Great," she said with a sigh. "Does he know which hedge fund is behind it?"

"He suspects Clauson and Stine."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's where I interned. Jeez, Walker. Those people have more power than the president. Is he insane?"

"You know your dad, Heather."

"Just the hedge fund or does he suspect anyone else?"

Heather rubbed at her forehead, then winced. He wanted to go to her and hold her, take her pain away somehow. Or at least make her forget about it. He walked a few feet to the other side of the room, then laid her jacket over the back of one of the wing chairs facing the fireplace.

"Yeah, there's a Senator from New York he suspects."

"What would be the point behind that? That's an awful lot of money just to take down some competition."

"We think there's a little more to it than that, but we're not sure what. Politics and the economy are your dad's area. But from what I understand, because of the abundance of short sales, Clauson and Stine are now head of the SEC committee that will oversee new legislation to make short sales more transparent."

Heather raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding ... right? Put the men responsible in charge of the very organization they scammed? Or was that the intent all along? To get inside and gain control of the Securities and Exchange Commission?"

Walker tilted his head, nodding once but didn't really answer. Heather was smart. Sometimes too smart.

"Just imagine what you could do if you controlled the SEC," he said.

"I'm not sure I want to. The very idea makes my head hurt even worse than what it does now."

"Why don't you try and get some sleep. You look like you could use it." She scowled up at him and he grinned. "A little make-up will do wonders for that though."

"Kiss my ass, Walker," she sneered.

"That's the best you got?" He chuckled. "You really must be feeling under the weather." At least she still had her spirit and that was a good thing. He loved her spirit. He walked over and tipped her chin up with his finger. He couldn't leave the room without touching her at least once. "Get some rest. I'll make sure everyone stays out. If you need anything, you know where to find me."

He dropped his hand and walked away before he did something stupid ... like kiss her.

"No lectures?" she asked. "No yelling about how I could have been killed or kidnapped, or worse?"

"There's something worse than being killed?" he asked with amusement. "Sounds to me like you got it covered. Do you really need to hear it all again?"

She shook her head.

"Besides, yelling at you now, while you're hurt would be like lecturing someone about drinking when they're drunk. I'd rather wait and do it when you're all better and fully capable of comprehending."

"So I'm not off the hook?"

"Not a chance in hell."

Her expression sobered. "I'm sorry you got stuck with me again, Walker," she said quietly and he turned to look at her in surprise.

"Don't be. Things were getting a little dull around here, anyway."

Her lips twisted and he almost chuckled at the sour face she made. "Well, livening things up is what I live for."

He snorted. "Brat, you don't know any way to be, other than infuriatingly crazy. It's what makes you, you."

She smiled slightly and a vise wrapped around his heart, squeezing hard. He'd fallen in love with a teenager and damned if he wasn't even more in love with the adult she'd grown into.