Would you, if the roles were reversed? asked his conscience.
He silently growled back at it as he skulked along the perimeter of the cabin site. Not a denial, because he didn’t want to lie to himself. Just a general snarl. Truthfully, he knew there was no way he’d simply walk away from Alessandra. He’d fight for her. To the death, he was pretty sure. In fact, just the thought of the possibility of an unexpected attack made him want to hurry back to her side. He had to force his feet to move slowly.
No need to get sloppy.
He’d be no good to her—or anyone—if he missed some key detail. So far, though, the site looked clear. There was no sign of recent visitation. No tire tracks in the mud, no open doors flapping. And since Rush himself was the last one to shut the place up, he knew what to look for. It was as clean and undisturbed as when he’d left it. Even the broken branch he’d noticed lying in the middle of the dirt driveway as he’d left was still there.
“You can never be too careful, though,” he murmured to himself as he moved from the perimeter of the whole site to the perimeter of the first cabin.
He checked the windows and the doors of each space. He checked the porches and the stacks of firewood. When he was done with the exteriors, he oh-so-cautiously inspected the interiors. Closets. Beds. Cupboards. His final inspection was of the big cabin, and there he lingered for a moment. Not because it had two hundred extra square feet or because there were more places to hide, but because it was where he was bringing Alessandra. And as much as he hoped her stay would be short, he wanted her to be comfortable. So even though it kept him away from her for another few minutes, he took the time to ensure things were up to par.
He made sure the linen on the bed was fresh, and he checked to see if there was tea and coffee. He stacked some wood into the fireplace, then turned to go. At the last minute, though, a crazy idea occurred to him, and he had to run with it. He hurried around the cabin, arranging things perfectly, then slipped back out and headed eagerly toward the spot where he’d left Alessandra.
By the time he reached her, her teeth were chattering.
“Wh-wh-what t-t-took you s-so long?” she asked. “And wh-why d-d-do you look like th-th-the Cheshire c-cat?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it, but still grinning. “But I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh, r-r-really?”
“Yep.”
Feeling extra spontaneous, he reached down and scooped her from the ground. She squealed a girlish protest and almost dropped his gun, but Rush was determined. If he had to meet an incredible woman under the worst circumstances, then he was going to make the best of it. Gripping her tightly against his chest, he carried her past the woodshed and smaller cabins. He lifted her up the steps, across the deck, then pushed open the door with his hip and brought her over the threshold. Inside, he kicked off his boots, brought his foot up to the stool near the front door, and yanked off Alessandra’s very muddy sandals. Then he spun in a circle so she could get the full effect of his efforts.
“Are those emergency candles?” she asked.
“A man’s gotta work with what’s available,” he said.
“I hope we don’t have a real emergency then.”
“Hey. The romance doesn’t make itself.”
“Doesn’t it?” she replied, her voice breathy enough that Rush almost forgot he had a plan.
Perfectly good couch over there, his libido pointed out.
He ignored it—barely—and instead carried Alessandra past the living room and to the bathroom. He shouldered through and at last set her down.
“Ta-da!” he said with a flourish toward the still-filling copper tub.
Alessandra’s baby blues widened. “Is that a bath?”
“Damn right.”
“With bubbles?”
“Interested?”
“God, yes. Thank you, Rush. It’s amazing, and I—” She cut herself off, a fierce shade of crimson slamming across her face at an incredible speed, and she cleared her throat. “Really. Thank you. I’m kind of hurting head to toe, and a bath will be fantastic.”
He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. “Good. I’ll get you a towel.”
He slipped out of the bathroom and decided to use the moment alone to place another call to Garibaldi, too. The last thing he needed was for the other man to get antsy about where he was and what he was doing.
His boss picked up on the first ring. “Atkinson. Made it out alive, I see.”
“Disappointed?” Rush said.
“Not in the slightest. You’re still useful to me.”
“Should I thank you for that comment?”
“You can show me your gratitude by telling me you figured out who the hell shot Alessandra.”
Rush’s gut roiled, but he made himself answer evenly. “When would I have had time to do that, boss? Before or after I dug a six-by-three hole in the clay?”
Garibaldi let out a dark chuckle that made Rush feel even sicker. He had to be riding a sociopathic line of some sort.
“All right,” the other man said. “I want you to drive back into town. Meet up with—”
Rush didn’t let him finish. “No can do, boss. Our trigger-happy friend tore apart the Lada’s engine.”
Garibaldi dropped a curse, then said, “Who the hell is this guy? I want to know. Like, yesterday.”
“Me, too,” Rush replied vehemently.
The gunman was still loose. God knew where he was or what he was planning.
“I’ll send someone to get you,” Garibaldi said. “Tell me where you are.”
Rush closed his eyes. He wished he could argue, but he knew he couldn’t. It would only arouse Garibaldi’s suspicions.
“Right this second, I’m in the middle of nowhere,” he said instead. “Give me two hours or so to get somewhere reasonably easy to access by car.”
“You need two hours?”
“Sorry. Did you think I was going to dump the redhead a few yards off the road?”
The pause in the other end was almost too long, and Rush half expected his boss to call him out for the continuing deception. But after a moment, a sigh carried through the line.
“All right. Two hours, Atkinson. Then you’re on this until it’s figured out. I’ve got a major deal coming through, and the last thing I need is a complication.”
Rush hung up and moved to grab a towel from the cupboard. He paused, though, with his hand on the off-white plush, then turned for the door instead. He locked it—dead bolt and slide lock both—and took a quick look to make sure all the windows were secure and the curtains drawn. He didn’t really believe the gunman would be able to track them, but his conversation with Garibaldi had reminded him that he hadn’t put as much thought into identifying their attacker as he should’ve.
Who was he? Was he there because of Alessandra, or was it Garibaldi? The latter seemed more likely, but for some reason, the former stuck in his mind. He just wasn’t sure why. The thing that nagged at him most was the way the gunman had stared at him. Why would a man he’d never met give him that kind of death glare? His eyes drifted to the slightly ajar bathroom door, considering it.
Then—like she could sense his invisible scrutiny—Alessandra’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Rush? Are you still out there?”
“Coming,” he called, stepping toward the bathroom. “Hey, can I...”
His question trailed into oblivion as he caught sight of her. Long, honey-kissed legs bent up out of the tub. One hand resting on the edge of the tub and the other swirling on the surface of the water. Perfect, full breasts just barely covered by a sea of bubbles. Her blue eyes glittered, catching him and holding him.
“You know it’s kind of weird to stand there and stare, right?” she said softly.
He swallowed. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
/>
She sounded so serious that he shifted from one foot to the other. “Sorry. I’ll wait out in the living room.”
“No,” she replied quickly.
“No?”
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to get in.”
And Rush couldn’t say no to that.
Chapter 14
Rush watched lazily as Alessandra fastened the second-from-the-top button on the shirt she’d borrowed from inside one of the drawers in the bedroom. It was a men’s shirt, which might’ve made Rush a bit jealous if not for two things. One, he knew it was from the pile of stuff left behind by Brayden. And two, it was brand-new with the tags still attached.
And don’t forget three, added a voice in his head. She looks damned good in it.
It was true. Even though she was decently covered, there was something undeniably sexy about the way the too-big shirt hung off her body. It made him want to drag her back into the bed all over again. Hell. He might’ve even done it if she hadn’t turned a skeptical eye his way.
“Are you going to get dressed, too?” she asked. “Or just sit around in your underwear until your chauffeur arrives?”
He cast her a lascivious smile. “What makes you think I’m wearing anything under this sheet?”
In spite of the fact that they’d spent the last hour together naked, she blushed, and her gaze skidded over the sheet. “I guess if you want to greet your driver that way, it’s up to you.”
He winked, tossed back the sheet—which revealed his perfectly respectable pair of boxers—and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Satisfied?”
“He could be early, you know.”
“Lackeys tend to run late. I should know—I am one.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled her brush through her cascade of red hair. Rush watched that, too. He wanted to enjoy the last few minutes he had with her. He was loath to leave her at all. In fact, they’d argued about it, and he’d tossed out a few ways to make sure he could stay. Not the least of which was taking whoever turned up, tying them to a chair and leaving them there until Rush found a way to solve every bit of his case while also protecting Alessandra. It was she who insisted he go. She used logic and reason. Then the threat of walking away from Whispering Woods and him forever. And even though he didn’t think the threat was credible, the thought of it was enough for him to relent and come up with a more practical plan.
Rush would leave, as planned. He’d do his bit to help Garibaldi search out the identity of the man who’d attacked them. He’d even put some solid effort into it, since he genuinely wanted to know who the guy was, and his motivation, too. Regardless as to the outcome, though, he’d get a hold of a vehicle and find a way back to the cabin in two hours. He was leaving behind his phone—the perfect excuse to return if nothing else came up first.
For Alessandra’s part, she was going to hide in the closet the moment they heard the tires on the gravel. She’d promised to stay in the bedroom once Rush was long gone. The room would be locked from the inside, and she’d have Rush’s gun within reach, and a book in her lap to keep her mind occupied. She’d sworn she’d only leave to use the bathroom. They were going to pull in the armchair from the living room and position it in the corner so she’d be out of sight. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was something. Or it had seemed like a plan, when he was tangled in her arms and legs. Now he was doubting it again.
“We can just leave,” he said abruptly. “Run away.”
She’d finished brushing and was now twisting her hair up into a bun. “Very funny.”
He sat up a little straighter. He had been half kidding. But it suddenly seemed like an almost plausible idea.
“Do you like margaritas?” he asked.
She stopped mid-twist and turned to face him, answering slowly. “I’m more of a piña colada girl. Why?”
“What if I said we could go right now?”
“Go where?”
“Somewhere hot. Tropical, even. Nice pool. Or the ocean. I know you like the ocean.”
“Right. And you’ll just leave your job and your friends and the case you’ve been chasing for the last fifteen years. All to run away with a woman you met yesterday. Sounds like a legitimately reasonable idea.”
Rush pushed to his feet and strode over to Alessandra. Her hands fell away from the work they were doing on her head, and her hair sprang free. Rush reached out and ran his fingers through the loose tresses, then slid both of his hands to her hips and met her eyes.
“You’re telling me you can’t feel whatever this is growing between us,” he said, the intensity in his tone obvious even to his own ears.
Her response was equally intense, but her voice was far softer. “Of course I do. And I like it. I like you, Rush. More than I should, considering how little time we’ve known each other. But that’s the whole reason you need to finish with this case. I don’t want to start off a relationship by hiding.”
He brushed away a strand of hair. “You’re already hiding.”
She made a face. “By hiding permanently. And I don’t want to be the person who stopped you from getting justice for your father.”
“Red...”
“No. Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“That you don’t care. Or that I’m more important.”
“Red,” he said again, more firmly because it was pretty damned close to what he’d been about to tell her.
She vehemently shook her head. “Seriously, Rush. Imagine introducing me to your partners. ‘Hey guys...this is Alessandra Rivers. She seduced me, then stole me away from the case. Sorry we’ll never get the closure we were always hoping for.’ How would that go over?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hard to say. The guys are kinda soft.”
She started to say something else, but the low rumble of a vehicle’s engine stopped her before she got started.
“Dammit,” Rush swore. “They’re early. Time for you to hide. I’ll get dressed.”
“I hate to say I told you so,” Alessandra said, and grabbed her bag from the floor and hurried toward the near-empty closet. “But I did tell you so.”
Rush slipped into his jeans and T-shirt, then stepped over to grasp the bifold door from the outside. “You’re going to be smug? Now?”
“When I’m right, I’m right.” She kissed him quickly before pulling away to send a serious look his way. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I will,” he said.
“Two hours or less.”
“See you then, Red.”
He kissed her again, then closed the closet and made his way out of the bedroom. When he opened the front door, though, he was greeted by an unpleasant surprise. Garibaldi hadn’t sent someone. He’d come himself.
Ignoring an urge to slam the door, Rush crossed his arms, channeled his inner thug, and issued a displeased greeting instead. “Checking up on me, boss?”
Garibaldi replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thought I’d make sure you were all right and offer you the grace of my company and benefit of my years behind the wheel.”
“I didn’t even know you could drive.”
“Funny as always, Atkinson.”
Rush offered the other man a shrug. “You wanna come in while I grab my coat and boots?”
He hoped the offer would be declined—enough of a show of good faith on its own—but Garibaldi’s eyes lifted over Rush’s shoulder to the interior of the cabin, and he shrugged back. “Sure. Why not?”
Rush stepped aside to let his boss enter first, then followed him in, careful not to let his eyes stray to the open bedroom door.
“Smells like soap in here,” Garibaldi stated.
It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, but Rush didn’t let himself be caught off guard. “Had about six layers of dirt and blood to wash of
f. Helped myself to a soak.”
The other man’s eyes flicked around curiously. Rush ignored it in favor of getting himself ready to go.
“So where’s your sidekick, anyway, boss?” he asked as he pulled his coat from the hook.
“Ernest is running some errands,” Garibaldi replied. “He already went by the other cabin and made sure it was secure. You guys did a hell of a number on the inside, by the way.”
Rush made sure his own response was dismissive as he bent to force his feet into his boots. “Yeah. Well. I was a tad more concerned about saving my own hide than I was about keeping things tidy. Ernest find out anything useful?”
“Not a thing.”
“So still no clue what this guy wanted?”
“Not yet,” Garibaldi said. “That’s another reason I came for you myself, though.”
Rush frowned. “What is?”
“Wanted to get a better feel for who the guy was.”
“There’s not a lot to tell. Bushy beard, like I said. Older and rough-looking. Wouldn’t have looked out of place begging for change. Does that mean anything to you?” He stood up and found Garibaldi studying him intently.
“Can I ask you something, Atkinson?” the other man said.
“You’re the boss.”
“Did the guy seem more interested in you, or in Al?”
Rush made sure not let on that he’d had the same question. “Dunno. There were too many flying bullets and fists for me to really pay attention. Why? You got an idea? You’re thinking someone was specifically targeting the redhead?”
Garibaldi sighed. “Something’s not sitting right.”
Rush hesitated, his mind on whether or not Alessandra could hear them. After a moment, he decided to plunge in anyway.
“Can I ask you something, boss?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why couldn’t we just let the girl go?”
“Buyer’s remorse, Atkinson?”
Undercover Refuge Page 15
