The Smuggler

by Leslie Georgeson

  Magic touch. Yep, that was me. I was The Smuggler. I was a magician.

  I guess wearing Ryan’s cologne had been a good idea if she liked the way it smelled on me. For this woman, I’d wear it again. Hell, I’d even dress up for her again if it got me laid.

  She pushed me all the way backward until I was lying back on the bed. This was a vulnerable position, one I never let myself be put into. But I was so caught up in this gorgeous woman that I didn’t care. I pulled her with me, over top of me, not about to let her go anywhere. She began unbuttoning my shirt, her soft hands sliding inside to feel along my chest. I groaned. I rarely allowed anyone to touch me, and never had another human touch felt so damn good.

  Her breasts threatened to pop out of the top of the dress, drawing my gaze, as she leaned over me. The lust that was swirling inside me was so powerful, it was all I could do to keep it in check. I wanted this woman more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not. I just knew I had to have her.

  I reached for one of those plump breasts, easily freeing it from the fabric, then sucked her nipple into my mouth.

  She let out a long, low moan and shuddered against me.

  “Oh God, Tony!”

  I loved the sound of my name on her lips. The taste of her breast in my mouth. I wanted more. I wanted all of her.

  The fuzziness in my head grew stronger as I continued to lap at her breast. Shit. I didn’t want to miss any of this. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that whiskey. I needed to be alert and coherent while I ravished every inch of her.

  Then my head started to spin. Stronger. Faster.

  No. Dammit. I was just getting started. I couldn’t miss this.

  She leaned away and gently pressed my head back onto a pillow.

  “Relax,” she whispered. “Just relax.”

  And then it hit me.

  She’d drugged me.

  The Smuggler had just been played.

  By the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Grace

  Oh my God, it worked!

  I had The Smuggler, whose name was Tony—was that his real name?—passed out on my bed. I had fooled a dreg.

  I quickly put my dress back in place, a little ashamed by my behavior. No man had ever made me so hot and bothered before. My body was still pulsing with need. If he hadn’t passed out when he had, I would probably have had sex with him. This wasn’t like me. Honest. I never slept with strangers. But holy shite, the sexual chemistry between us was so incredible I couldn’t ignore it. He was going to be pissed when he woke, and probably wouldn’t want anything else to do with me. Which sucked, because I really wanted to continue this.

  Don’t be stupid. This man is a dreg. He’s dangerous.

  It would be smart to secure him somehow so he couldn’t escape. So he couldn’t hurt me. Once he was secured, then I could figure out what to say to him when he woke. How did I convince him to help me? If I offered him the one night he wanted, would that be enough?

  As a bounty hunter, I always had several pairs of handcuffs on hand. I never knew when I might catch a felon and need a way to secure him. While Tony was still passed out, I quickly frisked him, finding a handgun at the base of his spine, and a small knife in a sheath at his ankle. Removing both weapons, I set them on my dresser across the room, far out of reach. Then I secured his hands to the bedposts with a set of handcuffs on each side, stretching his arms wide so it would be impossible for him to escape. The bed was sturdy old wood, the posts thick and heavy. The only way he was escaping was if someone set him free.

  Guilt swept through me as I glanced down at his handsome face, his features relaxed in slumber. I let my gaze wander down, pausing on his naked chest. I’d undone all but the last button of his shirt before he’d passed out, and that shirt was now spread open wide, revealing a splendid masculine torso corded with muscles. Desire coursed through me. I wanted to run my hands all over him, feel those hard, sexy muscles beneath my fingers.

  Feck, what was it about this man that made me feel this way? I’d never been so attracted to a man before, my body on heightened alert with a sexual hum like this.

  Get it together, Grace.

  A tattoo inked his skin high up on his right chest muscle. A bird with open wings—a dove?—flying out of a magician’s hat. And next to the hat, a deck of cards spraying upward. The artwork was amazing, the details intricate and very eye-catching. It was an interesting tattoo. Why a magician? Tony was certainly a contradiction. I would have expected a skull or maybe a dragon tattoo on such a dark and dangerous man. But a magician?

  I noticed a recently healed wound just above his heart that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound. And several discolored areas along his torso. Healing bruises? If I peeled off all his clothes, how many scars would he have from bullet wounds?

  You don’t want to know that. He’s a dreg. Every scar on him is probably an indicator of many scars—or even death—on others.

  He was also missing his pinkie finger on his left hand that looked like a recent injury. What had happened to him?

  You don’t want to know that, Grace.

  I didn’t know how long he might be passed out, but I did know that when he woke, he would be furious. Had I gone about this the wrong way? Should I simply have asked for his help instead of tricking him?

  It was too late to second-guess myself. The man was already my prisoner.

  I quickly changed out of the slutty hooker dress and into a pair of silky pink pajama pants and matching top. Then I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face. I came out and checked on Tony again. He was snoring softly, his sexy, muscular chest slowly rising and falling.

  When he woke, I would start negotiating with him.

  For now, I wandered into the second bedroom where Camille and Teresa had been staying. The unmade bed wasn’t unusual. The girls weren’t very tidy. Camille was sixteen, Teresa seventeen. Both had come to stay with me a few months ago. They were orphans who’d been living on the streets in Augusta. CPS had picked them up and I’d received a call asking if I was willing to take them in. I never said no to orphaned children. So they’d come to stay with me.

  And now they were gone. Possibly kidnapped by the Flesh King.

  Teresa was a tough girl with an attitude, full of mischief, while Camille was a quiet girl, a thinker. Of the two, Camille was more likely to come to me with a problem, while Teresa was more headstrong and independent. I had thought I was doing good, giving them a home. But what kind of parent was I if I lost my girls? If I couldn’t keep them safe?

  A wave of sadness washed over me. What had really happened to them? Were they okay? Would I ever be able to find them?

  Tears swam in my eyes. My chest squeezed with emotion. I swallowed hard, then snuggled under the covers, feeling closer to them this way.

  You now have the means to find them, Grace. You have The Smuggler. You will get them back.

  Yes, I would. I had a handsome stranger with smoky black eyes, a hot body, and a sexy Spanish accent handcuffed to my bed.

  The Smuggler was my captive.

  And I wasn’t letting him go until he agreed to help me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Grace

  A loud curse jerked me awake.

  I lay there for a moment, trying to figure out where it had come from.

  I glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

  6:03 a.m.

  The sun wouldn’t be up for about another hour.

  Another curse exploded from my bedroom across the hall.

  Oh shite. The Smuggler was in there.

  He was awake.

  I bolted upright.

  Then his angry voice slammed into me. “Get these fucking cuffs off me, Holly! I’m going to kill you for this, you hear me? Where are you? Get in here and face me, you lying whore!”

  O-kay. So he remembered last night. It was a good thing I hadn’t told him my real
name. A pissed Tony was nothing like the hot, sex-hazed hunk of last night.

  A tremor of fear sliced through me.

  I slid out of bed and cautiously crossed the hallway to my bedroom.

  I peered into the room.

  Tony was squirming on the bed, fighting and pulling at the handcuffs, lifting his legs and twisting his torso. I had to admire his flexibility. Usually big men weren’t very flexible, their bulging muscles tending to get in the way. But Tony was surprisingly graceful and, holy shite, his body was so sexy it left me breathless.

  Feck, Grace! Stop lusting after the man!

  I drew in a deep breath, then stepped into the room.

  He stopped fighting and lay still, his smoky black gaze focusing intently on me. “What is the meaning of this? Why am I handcuffed?” His voice was low, angry. And the threatening way he stared at me left no doubt that he planned to do me bodily harm.

  Not gonna happen. He’s not getting loose.

  “Sorry, buddy, but you have a bounty on your head.”

  He groaned softly. “You’re a fucking bounty hunter?”

  I lifted my chin. “I am.”

  His gaze narrowed on me. “How much is the bounty? I’ll pay you double to let me go.”

  Really? One hundred thousand dollars? He had that kind of money? Shite!

  I cleared my throat. “The bounty is fifty thousand, but that’s not why I kidnapped you.”

  His gaze narrowed, filling with suspicion. “It’s not?”

  “No. I need your help. My foster girls disappeared a few days ago. I have a feeling they were kidnapped by the Flesh King. I want you to help me find them.”

  He let out a low, menacing growl. “You couldn’t have just asked me to help you? You seriously think I’m going to help you after you trick me, drug me, and handcuff me to your fucking bed?” His eyes filled with menace. “You will pay for this, puta.”

  I didn’t know much Spanish, and the way he said that last word sounded like an insult. “What’s that mean, puta?”

  His gaze narrowed. “Whore.”

  I flinched. I deserved that. I’d fooled him, pretending to be a prostitute. But I couldn’t take back what I’d done. He was my captive now.

  “So why do they call you The Smuggler?” I asked.

  His glare grew fiercer, if that were possible. It was difficult not to wither beneath it.

  I straightened my spine. I’d dealt with rough, tough criminals before. Certainly I could handle The Smuggler. He was handcuffed to my bed. He couldn’t hurt me.

  “You’d better hope I don’t get free, or you’ll learn what it’s like to get fucked up by a dreg.”

  Another shiver of fear snaked through me. Even without that threat, I instinctively knew The Smuggler was much more dangerous than any criminal I’d ever apprehended before. If he did get loose, I would be in serious trouble.

  He’s not getting loose.

  “I just need your cooperation. Then I’ll let you go.”

  He chuckled, but it wasn’t a friendly chuckle. It was pure menace. “My cooperation? You’re delusional, lady, if you think I’m going to help you. I’m looking forward to getting free so I can fuck you up every which way. When I get my hands on you, you’re going to scream for mercy.”

  I took a wary step back. Why did it feel like that threat was as much sexual as it was physical? I couldn’t deny I was afraid of him in that moment. If he got free, he could hurt me all too easily.

  But he wasn’t getting free.

  I had the advantage here. He was my prisoner. Either he agreed to my terms, or I didn’t let him go. It was as simple as that.

  His gaze bored into mine, his expression black. This was not the same man who’d come home with me last night. That man had been sexy. This man was scary. Terrifying.

  I straightened my spine, holding his gaze. I was in charge here. Not him. I would not be intimidated just because he was a dreg. I was a cop. I could handle myself. And he was still handcuffed to my bed. He couldn’t hurt me.

  The ping of the doorbell shrilled down the hallway, startling us both.

  Who the feck? It was six in the morning!

  I turned away, marching down the hallway, ignoring Tony’s angry cursing behind me.

  “I will kill you!” he shouted. “If you turn me in, I will come back and torture you until the life finally ebbs out of you and your heart beats for the last time!”

  I shivered at his words. I didn’t doubt him. What I doubted was my own confidence. What had I gotten myself into? Could I really handle this man? This beast?

  I reached the front door and stared out the peephole, a startled gasp escaping my lungs. Alissa stood out there with a tall, handsome man who could be none other than the dreg she’d told me about. She must have gotten my message.

  Well, shite.

  How was I going to explain the man handcuffed to my bed?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tony

  I seethed with vengeance. Holly was going to pay for what she’d done. No female had ever outwitted me like this before. No female had ever captured me, chained me to her bed like a beast. I fought and pulled at the handcuffs again, knowing it was futile. I was an escape artist, but with my arms stretched wide and my hands cuffed tightly to the bedposts like this, even I couldn’t escape.

  A trickle of respect ran through me. I had to admire a woman who was brave enough to take on The Smuggler. Even if I was pissed that I was in this situation. I didn’t know if she was telling the truth about wanting me to help find her foster kids, or if she planned to turn me in and collect on the bounty.

  If she handed me over to The Company, I was fucked.

  I had to escape. There was no other option. I had to talk my way into freedom. But I wasn’t a negotiator. I demanded, and I took. Demanding would get me nowhere with this woman. She was a bounty hunter, which meant she knew how to handle herself around dangerous men. Didn’t she know I was more dangerous than any other man she would ever meet? That I could fuck her up all too easily?

  You need to chill out and figure a way to convince her to free you. You can’t let her hand you over to The Company. Offer her more money.

  Just agree to find the damn kids.

  I inhaled deeply, then slowly let the air out of my lungs, trying to calm the riot of emotions raging through me.

  Emotions. Yeah, I was pissed right now. Livid. I wanted to strangle Holly, squeeze her beautiful throat until the last breath wheezed out of her.

  But even more so, I wanted to fuck her. Force her into submission. Which pissed me off even more. I’d never been obsessed with a woman before, but how else did I explain the confusing emotions that swirled inside me? I was completely obsessed with her. I wanted her. She pissed me off, and made me crazy with desire at the same time. But how could I lust after a woman who had turned me into a captive?

  Was she really a foster mom? I wasn’t sure if I believed that. The government didn’t allow prostitutes to take in orphans, did they? A hooker wouldn’t be a good role model.

  Voices came from the front of the house. One male. One female. My acute senses picked up the deep timber of the male voice, and the softer sounds of the female voice.

  A mixture of shock and relief crashed through me. Both voices I recognized.

  Nate and Alissa. What were they doing here? I didn’t think Nate’s connection to me would have enabled him to find me so soon. I hadn’t been awake long enough, or my emotional distress bad enough to have led him here already. It generally took hours or longer to locate each other. There had to be another reason why they were here.

  “Nate!” I shouted. He would free me. He would make Holly let me go. And then I could torture her, punish her for deceiving me.

  Footfalls sounded down the hallway, then Nate appeared in the doorway to the bedroom.

  He took one look at me and threw his head back with a bark of laughter. “I never…in my life…” another chuckle, “…expected to see anything like this.”

&n
bsp; Finally, he sobered, his gaze turning serious. “Well, it looks like she already found you, so she doesn’t need us. I was just explaining to her in the other room that you’re the best person to go in and find her foster kids.”

  Confusion swept through me. What was he talking about? How did he know Holly’s foster kids were missing? What was going on here?

  I glowered at him. “Let me go so I can kill her.”

  He cocked a brow. “Alissa and I just got her message a little while ago and hurried right over. We had no idea you’d already be here. How did she find you?”

  I was even more confused than I’d been a moment ago. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Nate chuckled, motioning at me. “Uh, I think I should be the one asking that question, but I’m not touching this with a ten-foot pole. No way…”

  Alissa and Holly entered the bedroom at that moment. Alissa gasped and stared at me wide-eyed. She turned to Holly. “What are you doing, Grace? You have to let him go!”

  Grace? Her name was Grace? Why wasn’t I surprised that she’d lied about her name?

  “Your name is Grace?” I growled out. “Not Holly?”

  Alissa’s eyes went big again, then she giggled. “Oh my. I’m not even going to ask what you two are up to.”

  Grace’s gaze flickered to me. “I told him I’d let him go if he agreed to help me. But he hasn’t agreed yet.”

  Alissa touched Grace’s arm. “Oh my God. You’re not turning him in for the bounty, are you? You can’t, Grace. He’s the one who snuck inside Paine College and freed me from the Sureños.”

  Grace blanched, her gaze darting back to me briefly, then away. “He was the one who freed you?”

  Alissa nodded. “Yes, he’s a good guy.”

  Thank you, Alissa.

  At one time, I hadn’t been very nice to Alissa, but she’d managed to forgive me and we now shared a grudging respect for each other. I actually liked Alissa. She was good for Nate. She made him happy. While I appreciated her support, I certainly wasn’t “good”. And as soon as I got free, Grace would see how bad I really was.

  I glanced back at Grace, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the moment. “So, are you going to let me go now?”