Fatal Fallout Read online

  Torn between duty and desire, two strangers must risk all for love

  Nuclear physicist Dr. Claire Fleming has one rule: never get close to anyone. But when her colleague is murdered and she’s targeted next, she must place all her trust in FBI agent Thomas Kincannon. Soon Claire forgets her tenet as she fantasizes about Thomas’s touch.

  Thomas is wildly attracted to Claire. But his life and his job are too complicated for any romantic entanglements. Despite this, they share a mind-blowing kiss, and there’s no turning back. When Thomas’s niece is abducted, the stakes become dangerously higher as Claire insists he trade her for the child. Somehow, Thomas must find a way to rescue his family and protect the woman who let her protective walls down just for him.

  “You know I care about you.”

  She held him a moment longer, then rose up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his mouth.

  The contact arced through him, setting all his nerve endings on fire. She met his eyes for a beat, then kissed him again.

  He groaned and opened his mouth, giving her the access she sought. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her, let her take away the stress and worry and anxiety about everything.

  It felt so good to be holding her, touching her, and yet…. He pulled back, framing Claire’s face with his hands. “We should slow down,” he said, in a voice too unsteady to be trusted.

  “Let me do this for you,” she whispered, kissing his chin. “Let me help you tonight.”

  “Are you sure? If we go much further, I won’t want to stop.”

  “Who’s asking you to?”

  Dear Reader,

  I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I’ve had a crush on Thomas ever since he appeared in my first book, Deadly Contact. And what’s not to like? He’s charming, funny, handsome, smart, and he has a fierce protective streak. In short, he’s the perfect romance hero.

  Thomas was originally supposed to play a small role in Deadly Contact, but he very stubbornly tried to steal all his scenes. That’s when I knew he had his own story to tell, and once I stopped fighting him and started listening to him, I realized he was more than just a pretty face.

  I really enjoyed working on this book. It was a roller-coaster ride of ups and downs, and I hope I’ve done his story justice. Thomas and Claire both hold a special place in my heart, and I hope you enjoy getting to know them as much as I did!

  Lara

  FATAL

  FALLOUT

  Lara Lacombe

  Books by Lara Lacombe

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Deadly Contact #1778

  Fatal Fallout #1814

  LARA LACOMBE

  I earned my Ph.D. in microbiology and immunology and worked in several labs across the country before moving into the classroom. My day job as a college science professor gives me time to pursue my other love—writing fast-paced romantic suspense, with smart, nerdy heroines and dangerously attractive heroes. I love to hear from readers! Find me on the web, or contact me at [email protected].

  For the redheads in my life: Will, Josh and Toby Love you guys!

  Many thanks to Rachel Burkot, Patience Bloom and the team at Harlequin.

  Thanks also to Jessica Alvarez. Y’all are the best!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Excerpt

  Chapter 1

  “Dr. Fleming, can you comment on the recent alarm at the Central Virginia nuclear reactor after Tuesday’s earthquake?”

  “Dr. Fleming, is nuclear power safe?”

  “Is the public in any danger?”

  Claire Fleming pasted on a smile as she turned to face the handful of reporters standing on the sidewalk outside the Nuclear Safety Group’s building. She’d known these questions would be coming, but had hoped to at least get a cup of coffee first. Mornings were tough enough without facing a barrage of questions, and she didn’t feel human without that first cup of java.

  “I want to assure people that there was no accident at the Central Virginia nuclear plant. The reactor experienced a low-level alarm following the earthquake, but the emergency systems kicked in without a problem, and at no time was the public in danger. Nuclear power continues to be one of the safest options for meeting the growing energy needs of our country.”

  One of the reporters—a short, round woman sporting large glasses and a frown—finished scribbling and opened her mouth to ask a follow-up question. Claire held up a hand before she could speak, shooting her what she hoped was an apologetic smile. “We’ll be having a press conference later today, and I’d appreciate it if you hold the rest of your questions until then.”

  The small group grumbled but began to disperse, freeing Claire to walk into the building. She waited until the elevator doors closed, then leaned back against the wall and rubbed her forehead. What a mess.

  The minor earthquake the day before yesterday had been a wake-up call. Although it was only a four on the Richter scale, the tremors were strong enough to trigger emergency shutdown procedures at the Central Virginia plant. While things had gone off without a hitch, it was only a matter of time before an accident happened. The plant was one of the older ones in the region and needed constant updating, and given budget shortfalls, money was tight. Paradoxically, Central Virginia’s stellar safety record put it at the bottom of the list for repairs—a fact that aggravated Claire to no end.

  She strolled past the reception desk with a quick smile for Eva. “I left you a gift on your desk,” the woman called out.

  “Is it coffee?” Claire asked, unable to keep the note of desperation out of her voice.

  Eva shot her a sly grin. “Maybe.”

  “Oh, you are a goddess.”

  Eva’s laugh followed her down the hall. She stepped into her office and there, on the middle of the desk, sat the distinctive black-and-white cup from her favorite coffee shop. She dropped her bag on the floor and snatched it up, holding it under her nose for a second to inhale the blissful aroma. Taking a sip, she nearly groaned aloud as the rich brew hit her tongue. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “Morning.”

  Jerry Witter stood in the doorway, his large frame leaving little room for anything else. “Hey Jerry, how’s it going?”

  He shrugged and stepped inside her office, rubbing a hand over his bushy goatee before replying. “All right, I suppose. Had to shoot me a dog last night.”

  She blinked, unsure she’d heard him correctly. “You shot a dog?” she repeated slowly, trying to understand. The lack of caffeine must be getting to her.

  “Yep. There was a dog in my garage last night.”

  “I see. Did you know this dog?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Seemed mean though. Kept jumping up on the door, barking and snarling at me. I read his owner’s number off the tag on his collar and called. They’re out of town, told me to just send him home.” He shook his head. “Can you believe that?”

  She shook her head, sinking slowly into her chair. “So what did you do?”

  “Well, I threw some hot dogs out there, but the dog kept
coming back inside the garage before I could get the door shut. I can’t have a vicious dog by my house—what if he hurts one of my girls?”

  Claire nodded, not sure she wanted to hear the end of this story.

  “So I got my gun and shot him.”

  She felt her jaw drop as she stared up at him. “Jerry, why didn’t you just call animal control?”

  “What for?” He looked genuinely confused, as if the idea had never occurred to him. “I took care of it.”

  “But...” She searched for something to say, trying hard to relate to a man whose first reaction to a problem was to pick up his gun. “You can’t just kill people’s pets when they annoy you!”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  She frowned, confused. “You said you shot him.” I haven’t had enough coffee for this.

  “Yeah, but I used rubber bullets. He took off like his tail was on fire,” he said, chuckling at the memory.

  She smiled weakly. “Sounds like quite the adventure.”

  “I ’spose so. Did you have a good night?”

  She sighed, taking another sip of coffee. “Not bad. Prepping for damage control after this earthquake.”

  He snorted. “That wasn’t an earthquake. That was barely a tremor.”

  “Yes, well.” She pulled her laptop out of her bag, placing it on her desk along with a number of other papers. “The Central Virginia alarm went off, so it’s news.”

  “Yeah. Let me know if I can help with anything.”

  “Thanks—I appreciate it.” She powered on her computer, taking another sip of coffee as it booted up.

  Jerry turned to go but stopped at her door, snapping his fingers. “Almost forgot. Dr. Reed wants to bring me in on the Russian cleanup project, and he told me to get some contact information from you.”

  “No problem. Give me just a second....” She typed as she spoke, pulling up her contact list. It would be good to have another person on this project. There were so many nuclear power plants in Russia, many crumbling and unsecured, making them prime targets for terrorists looking to steal radioactive materials. The NSG had teamed up with their Russian counterparts in the hopes of reducing the threat, but it was an uphill battle, and they needed all the help they could get.

  The new-mail icon popped up at the lower right corner of her screen, signifying an unread message. She clicked out of habit, smiling when she saw the email was from Ivan Novikoff.

  “Actually, Ivan just emailed me, so I’ll forward this message to you and you’ll have his information.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.” He walked out, his movements surprisingly quiet for such a large man.

  She clicked to open the email, frowning as a picture began loading. That was strange. Ivan never sent images—he was hyperparanoid about security, not wanting to risk his messages being intercepted and used against him. Concerns regarding the safety of nuclear power already ran high, and there were many protest groups who would not hesitate to take images out of context and use them to needlessly scare people.

  She reached for her coffee as she glanced at the screen, then gasped. The cup fell from her nerveless hands, hitting the floor and splashing the burning liquid on her legs. She ignored the stinging pain as she focused on the image in front of her, trying to process what she was seeing.

  No.

  She shook her head, putting a fist to her mouth to contain the scream that clawed up her throat. No!

  Leaning over, she retched into the trash can next to her desk. Suddenly Jerry was there, his hand on her back, his voice a buzzing drone in her ears.

  “Ivan...”

  She knew when Jerry saw the image by his sharp intake of breath. He reached out a hand, slamming down the lid of her computer. “Don’t look at that,” he said, his voice gruff.

  She nodded, but it was too late. The image was burned into her brain. All she had to do was close her eyes to see Ivan, her friend and collaborator, lying in a pool of his own blood, the horrible words painted in jagged red script across his chest.

  You’re next.

  * * *

  “Again!”

  Thomas looked down into his niece’s smiling face and couldn’t help but grin in return. “Okay, but this is the last time.”

  Emily watched in wide-eyed fascination as he pulled out his badge and flashed it at her. “Freeze!” he said in his best tough-guy voice. She dissolved into a fit of giggles, nearly crumpling to the floor in hysterics. Her reaction would have worried a lesser man, Thomas mused as he bent to scoop her up. Still, as long as he didn’t have to bust a five-year-old girl anytime soon, he was probably intimidating enough to do his job.

  “Let’s go, squirt. We’re gonna be late.”

  She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” she said in the tone of a long-suffering victim.

  He set her on the floor with a pat on the shoulder. “Go kiss your mom goodbye, but be quiet so you don’t wake her.”

  Emily ran down the hall, slowing as she approached her mother’s bedroom. She carefully pushed open the door and entered on tiptoe. Thomas smiled as he watched her golden ponytail disappear into the dark room, then turned to press a kiss to his mother’s temple. “Have a good day, Ma.”

  “You, too, dear.” She patted his cheek. “Be safe today.”

  “Always.”

  Emily reappeared, closing the door with exaggerated care. “I’m ready,” she said as she approached Thomas.

  He handed her the pink-sequined backpack, let her struggle into it on her own. He’d made the mistake of trying to help her once, and the resulting fit had drawn Jenny from her bedroom. His sister-in-law worked nights at the hospital and needed her sleep, and she hadn’t been happy about being roused after only an hour of rest to calm down her hysterical daughter.

  “Bye, Nana.” She reached up to hug his mother, who bent with effort to wrap her arms around the girl. She was moving slower and slower these days, but she still insisted everything was fine. He supposed it didn’t take much effort to watch Emily at night while Jenny worked, but even so, he worried about her health.

  “Goodbye, sweet girl. Have a great day at school.”

  Emily let out another sigh. “I’ll try.” She reached up to take Thomas’s hand, leading him out of the apartment.

  “Is everything okay at school, Em?” They walked down the stairs together, hand in hand, her eyes on the floor while she carefully navigated the steps.

  “I guess.”

  “Is anyone bothering you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you like your teacher?” he pressed. The FBI had courses on the best methods to use when interrogating children, but he hadn’t taken any of them since most of his investigations focused on adults. Now, faced with a recalcitrant niece, he wondered if maybe he should sign up for the next session.

  Emily shrugged as he opened the passenger door. “She’s okay.” She climbed into the car, wriggling out of her backpack and setting it on the floor before reaching for the seat belt.

  He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “It just seems like you don’t want to go to school.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you want to tell me why?”

  He pulled into traffic, giving her time to think about her response. The silence went on for so long that he was about to ask her again when she said quietly, “I miss my dad.”

  His heart clenched at the admission. He reached for her hand, gave it a squeeze. “I miss him, too, sweetie.”

  Roger, his brother, had died in a car accident six months ago, but the details of that horrible day were never far from his mind. The afternoon phone call from his mother. The frantic drive to the hospital. The stale waiting-room coffee as they huddled together, waiting to hear if the doctors had worked a miracle. Jenny’s piercing scream when the su
rgical team walked over, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. And Emily’s pale, tear-streaked face after he told her the earth-shattering news.

  Roger’s death had left a gaping hole in Jenny and Emily’s lives, one that Thomas had tried to patch, albeit with limited success. While he never wanted to replace her father, he did want Emily to have a male presence in her life, a man who loved her unreservedly and without question. He had begun taking her to school in the weeks after Roger’s death, stepping into the role Roger had performed so well. At first, Emily had been reserved and tearful, but she’d gradually begun to warm up to seeing him more often, and he treasured their mornings and the routine they had built. It was a small but important step on the path of healing.

  But it was a bumpy road, as evidenced by Emily’s quivering lip. “All the other kids have dads,” she said in a wobbly voice. “I don’t understand why mine had to die.”

  “I don’t either, love. Nobody understands it.” He ached to pull her into his lap for a hug, but contented himself with holding her hand as he kept his focus on the road. From the corner of his eye, he could see her lips press together in a pale line and knew she was trying hard not to cry. My sweet, brave girl.

  She was quiet for the rest of the drive. He didn’t press her to talk—he wanted to be a safe place for her, and if he pestered her, she would withdraw from him. He pulled up to the curb in front of the school, then turned to face her.

  “Try to have a good day, Emmycakes.” It was his pet nickname for her, a play on her name and patty-cake, her favorite game as a little one. The name never failed to make her smile, and it didn’t disappoint now.

  She grinned up at him, her earlier sadness cast off like a discarded coat. “I will. You, too, Uncle Thomas.”

  He smiled at her serious tone. “I’ll do my best,” he assured her.

  She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, then climbed carefully out of the passenger seat. He watched while she made her way up the steps to her teacher. He gave the woman a wave as she collected Emily and guided her inside along with the other children, then merged back into traffic.