Hell or High Water (10 page)

Stupid to agree to take her along. Insane to have her body plastered against his. Ignorant to think having her so close wouldn’t have an effect on him.

She cleared her throat. “We can go now.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He hit the gas and headed for the freeway, figuring the drive would give him time to clear his head. Not likely. Not while her skin burned his through their clothes.

Truthfully, he hadn’t moved back to Dallas with hopes of starting up with her again. She’d made a life for herself. She damn sure didn’t need him complicating matters. Not unless she was into shattered nerves, nightmares, and knees that sounded like cracking knuckles.

Admittedly, he was an adrenaline junkie. Away from danger too long, and he missed the rush. Forming close ties with anyone would be downright stupid.

She tightened her grip, sending him back in time to his small apartment in Austin. She’d been young and innocent, with lush lips you could lose yourself in. And breasts? They were so sweet, his taste buds tingled just thinking about them.
 

The problem was she’d wanted what he couldn’t give. A house with a two-car garage and white picket fence. Two kids and an SUV. Christ on a crutch, at twenty-two years old, she’d scared the hell out of him. The SEALs had been his lifelong dream. A goal Kaycie hadn’t understood.
 

She squeezed his ribs, leaned into him harder and yelled over the roar of the engine. “Where are we going?”

“No need to shout, the helmets are miked. My office is right off the freeway.”

Her body stiffened. Wait for it. The next question would be how long had he been home. She’d surprised him by not asking sooner.
 

When he parked and she still hadn’t asked, he remembered that she didn’t give a damn when or where he moved.

He unlocked the front door, stepped back, and let her go ahead. “Other than me, you’re the first person who’s been inside. There’s not much in the way of furniture. I’ll drag a box from the back for you to sit on.”

“Who do you know in the FBI?”

“A fellow named Dalton Murphy. I’ve done a few undercover jobs for them, and he’s my contact. Now that I’ve set up an office and formed a legal company, I’m hoping for more business. Dalton’s the special agent in charge of the Atlanta office. He’s a good friend to have.”

Nate fished out his cell. “There’s a coffeepot.” He pointed and started scrolling. She caught his hand with hers.

He turned and faced her. The cinnamon flecks in her sexy brown eyes flared, and her pupils dilated. Even though it lasted only a second, he recognized and remembered the warmth. Her kissable lips were too close for comfort. He edged back a step.

“Why are you doing this?”

His mind pedaled fast for an answer they both would believe. “You’re in danger.”
 

“No. Why are you doing this?”

It was a loaded question. One he wouldn’t answer because he wasn’t sure himself. It still burned his gut that she believed his loyalty could be bought. Handing him the check had made him face one reality. Their relationship was probably better this way. Just the idea of giving up his lifestyle for a nine-to-five job, made his nuts hurt. Keeping his country safe was all he knew how to do. Government contracts would allow him to continue to help.
 

“You have somebody else in mind you’d rather hire?” Nate pressured. “He might be cheaper but not as good.”

“Forget it.” She spun on her heel toward the coffee pot. Stopped in midstride. “Hey, there’s a black Mercedes parked—”
 

“I know. We picked up a tail right after we left your place. Ignore them.”

“Why? I’ll bet it’s the same car. In fact, those windows aren’t legal. They’re too dark.”

“So they are. Not your job to go remind them.”

“I was a cop before transferring to CPS. Trained not to be passive when threatened. We should confront them.”

“I intend to. First, I need to call Dalton. Let the boys outside get comfortable while they watch us.”

Kaycie let out an old familiar huff before heading in the direction of the coffeepot.
 

At least she was out of the way. He didn’t care if she were ex-CIA, he wouldn’t risk getting her hurt. Nate quietly exited through the back door, jogged down the service alley and up beside the idling Mercedes. A confrontation in the open was the safest bet. He eased his gun out of the holster and tapped the driver’s-side window.
 

“Lower it or I’ll break the fucker.”

The window slowly slid down. The passenger’s door opened, and a gorilla exited the car. Tall, wide forehead, slack jaw, and familiar. His size made Nate think this was one of the bastards who’d attacked Kaycie at the morgue.

He smiled at the big ape. His fingers itched.
 

“You got a problem?” the gorilla asked.
 

“I have questions, and you have answers.”

“I got your answer right here.” The gorilla slid a HK MP10 out from behind his wide body. Somebody had armed this bastard well.

The car lurched forward. Nate lunged back, barely avoiding his foot being run over.

“You son of a bitch.” Nate reached to jerk the door open, froze when he caught movement in his peripheral vision.

Kaycie moved into his line of sight. Feet spread, her Glock pointed at the gorilla.

Shit.
 

The driver’s-side door swung open, knocking Nate off balance. He staggered backward never taking his gaze off her. The gorilla was half in, half out when the car sped off with both doors still open.

 
Nate had made a novice’s mistake. He’d taken his eye off the target.
 

“Damn it, Kaycie. Why didn’t you stay inside?” His heartbeat thundered in his ears. “You’re the fucking target. If they’d wanted you dead...”
 

Nate couldn’t speak the words. Something tripped inside, exploding in his chest. Not in hand-to-hand combat or in the middle of a firestorm of bullets, not when his men died in an ambush, had he experienced this kind of fear. Cold sweat seeped from his pores.
 

Kaycie’s face turned redder by the second. With each step she made in his direction, her scowl deepened. By the time they stood toe-to-toe, all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and thank God she was safe.

“Are you crazy?” She poked a finger into his chest. “You condescending bastard. Don’t you ever leave me behind when there’s trouble.”

She stormed inside, leaving Nate to wonder why he was in trouble. Christ, all he’d done was try to protect her. He followed, locked the door, and caught up with her at the coffeepot. Adrenaline still powered through his system, sizzling his nerves when she turned her back to him.
 

A hint of vanilla caught his senses. His chest tightened. There. Right behind her ear. The freckle he loved to kiss. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Her pupils flared slightly, a clear indication she’d felt the spark between them.
 

“I will go crazy if I don’t do this.” He lowered his lips to hers, bracing himself for the worst. Expecting her to shove him away. Expecting her to remind him he was in her employ. Expecting her to stand rigid as a post.
 

His spirit soared when soft, lush lips opened slightly. Welcomed him. He angled his mouth for better coverage and swept his tongue inside heaven. This was supposed to be just a quick kiss, a taste of her sweetness. A honey-forgive-me touch of the tongues. Desire exploded, rocketing through every inch of his body.

Nate turned ravenous. His hands roamed and smoothed, needing to experience every inch of her body. The gentle slope of her back, the slant of her waist as it nipped in at the hip. Not one inch of her had escaped his memory.
 

She moaned, sending shock waves of need through him. She swayed in his arms, slid her hands around his neck, and pulled him closer until her breasts pressed against his chest.

Somewhere deep within the darkness of his soul a light shone.

Chapter 10

Kay could barely stand. Her legs had forgotten their primary function. Nate’s muscular body pressed against hers, his kiss devoured her. The world shifted on its axis. Her hands tunneled deep in his hair, holding him close. Need flooded her body and concentrated low in her belly. Warmth pooled. Skin. She wanted to touch bare skin.

Oh. Hell. No. He’s not to be trusted.

She’d lost her mind to let him kiss her. Logic and lust were at war inside her head. Kay placed her hands on his chest and applied pressure until his lips separated from hers. She shoved harder a second time, and he backed up a single step.
 

His gaze caressed her face. Navy-blue eyes had darkened to the color of midnight. Hooded with lust. His desire obvious.
 

Her gaze drifted to the enormous swell pressing against the zipper on his jeans. She quickly raised her eyes to meet his.

“That won’t happen again.” Her heart hurt, and her body protested from wanting him as she put more distance between them. At least she’d managed to speak with a small amount of conviction.
 

“You sure?” His gaze bore deep into hers, weakening her resolve.
 

Her throat closed, which was fine since her brain refused to offer up a snappy comeback. Damn, she hoped the trembling inside didn’t show. She forced calm into her words.

“We merely experienced an overflow of adrenaline. It’s time to get back to the employer/employee relationship.”
 

With one menacing step toward her, he stood close enough for his body heat to weaken her resolve. The corners of his lips lifted. And that was a mistake because his arrogance pissed her off.
 

“I think we have unfinished business,” he stated, giving her more smile.
 

“We don’t. And give the Cheshire cat grin a rest. It doesn’t work on me anymore,” she lied. Refusing to blink, she held his gaze and added, “And, yes, I’m sure.”

The top two buttons of her blouse had mysteriously come undone. One more and he’d have found the Saint Jude medallion. Not something she wanted to discuss with him. “Weren’t you about to call your FBI friend?”

“Right. I’ll do that while you call your contact at the police department. Tell them you’ve picked up a tail.”

She’d disturbed the leather string he used instead of a rubber band when she’d burrowed her hands in his hair, and he bent to retrieve it from the floor. One black eyebrow rose while he raked fingers through his disheveled mane and secured it off his face.
 

Damned if her palms didn’t ache to do it again.
 

“What was with the noble offer to take on my case for free?” Kay hoped for an honest answer. “Don’t you have bills to pay?”

“You’re hardly a case, and I’ve got enough to get by until my business gets established.”

“Why this and not police work?”
 

“Too many rules. If I want to help somebody, I’ll make that decision.” Nate glanced at the front door and back at her. “You always loved kids, so I’m not surprised to find you working at CPS. But why a cop first?”

“Ambition. And I wanted to make a difference. There are different levels of investigators in the agency. I needed practical experience if I wanted to work in the field. Sitting behind a desk didn’t appeal to me.”

“I can identify with that.” Nate filled two cups, passed one to her, and then returned to his laptop.

Kay rolled her shoulders in an effort to relax and then placed a call to Tomas Mendes. He warned her not to interfere with the case when he learned she was still on the hunt for evidence against Hank Walsh. He seemed slightly relieved she’d hired protection. In the end, he agreed to run the license plate number for her. She put Tomas on hold and walked over to Nate to ask for the number.

Waiting patiently, she listened to his conversation. He reached behind himself as if he knew she was standing there, caught her by the hand and tugged her to his side.

“Thanks, Dalton. Text me anything you can share.” Nate disconnected and then slipped his hand around her waist. “I have good and bad news. My friend will keep me in the loop if we do the same.”

She disengaged him from her body before her skin melted. “Is that the good news?”
 

“Yeah. I hoped we’d link up with the FBI agent who’s been assigned to investigate. Dalton said the guy is out of the Dallas office and is a loner.”

“You two should get along just fine.” Kay’s cell warmed in her hand. “Damn, I forgot Tomas on hold. I need the license number of the black car.”

Nate passed her a business card with the digits scribbled on back. After she’d given Tomas the information, she hung up and turned the card over. Under Wolfe Private Investigation was his Texas license number.

“You’re licensed but have no furniture?”
 

“I make do without a desk and chair. I had to have a license before the government would award me contract work. If I can establish myself, build a good reputation, the business will come.”