“Oh, my gosh. No wonder you couldn’t go back.”
“That wasn’t the entire reason,” he hedged. Her lifted brow warned him he had better finish what he started. “Ooh,” he groaned. “After the incident was all over and the terrorist was locked away, I, uh, looked the reporter up and asked him for the name of his source.”
Gilly set her second slice of pizza aside, took a sip of her drink, and sat back, waiting for him to finish.
“The reporter gave me the name.”
“Gave?”
His lip curled up on one side. “He may not have volunteered it, but yes, he gave it to me. It was after that when things… kind of…hit the fan.”
Gilly giggled and covered her beautiful mouth with slender fingers. “This is going to be good.”
“Go ahead and laugh,” he told her and meant it. It was nice to see her let loose and enjoy herself. “His source turned out to be an idiot politician, a US Senator to be exact.”
“Oh, no,” Gilly gasped and simultaneously chuckled. Soda sprayed out her nose.
“Oh, yes.” He swallowed his pride to tell her the rest of the story. “Let’s just say, I know a little too much about a certain Senator’s bedroom playtime.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yeah, I kinda did.” He cringed. “By the time I finished with him, not only was his face black and blue, but his ‘little Senator’ would no longer stand at attention.”
Gilly lay on the red vinyl booth, giggling hysterically, unable to stop the tears from clouding her eyes. Besides her shoulder, her stomach now hurt. When the laughing jag finally subsided, she pulled herself back up. “You’re lying right?”
Lucas shook his head, a child afraid to speak for fear of further punishment.
“They gave you the boot because a Senator could no longer get his flag to full mast?”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “The Senator has pull. Plus, my cover was permanently blown.”
“Apparently, so was the Senator’s.” She went into another giggling fit.
“Exactly right,” he said grinning. “The Senator is no longer a Senator so that makes us even.”
“Oh, man, I’ve got to pee.” She slid around and bumped hips with Lucas. “Let me out.”
“What’s the password?”
“Please.”
“Nope.”
“Lucas, do you really want to see me pee my pants? You’ll get wet.”
He grinned at her, a mischievous sexy grin.
She kissed him, hard and fast, but it did the trick. He let her out.
“Do you need help?”
Maureen shot a glare at him over her shoulder as she trotted off to the ladies’ room.
In the bathroom, she undid her pants, and remembered Jimmy’s letter. Sliding it out of her pants, she immediately sobered. After performing the one-handed shimmy to get her jeans over her hips, she sat on the toilet and wondered why Lucas had never told her that story before. What had been so awful that he had refused to share that part of his past life? Why did he choose to share it now? Did it matter? It felt good. Right.
“Ready to go?” he asked as soon as Gilly reached the booth.
“Sure.”
He had already paid the bill and left a tip. Taking her hand, he escorted her outside. Immediately, the steam of the day engulfed them. It felt soothing after the air conditioning of the restaurant. Only a couple of blocks to the parking garage and then they would be on the long ride back to his place.
“Why did you never tell me before what had happened or what you worked on? You always kept it hush-hush.”
“I’m not exactly supposed to go around telling people what I did and with whom.”
“Does Mickey know?”
“Are you kidding me? What doesn’t he know?” Her sweet laugh rolled over him like a warm summer rain, soothing and exhilarating. “The minute the DIA set me free, Michael was on my doorstep waiting to recruit me.”
“Did you ever run into Charley while in the DIA?
“She was CIA.”
“I know that, but they do joint ventures and she interrogated terrorists.”
“I never ran into her, but I knew the asshole that stuck her in that black site. He was a prick even before he went off the deep end.”
They reached the parking garage and he jerked the sticking door open. As Gilly passed in front of him, the hairs on the back of his neck tingled in warning. He grasped her arm and bent close to her ear. “Stay behind me.”
She nodded and left-handed, tugged her weapon out of her hip holster, and followed in his wake. There were no surprises in the stairwell.
“Are you sure?” she asked from behind him.
“Gut,” he said and that seemed to satisfy her as she nodded.
He went through the fourth floor door and paused. The smell of smoke caught his attention. His gaze roamed the area. Four other cars now sat parked on the same floor as his Mustang. Then he saw the source of the burning tobacco. A cigarette lay on the ground near his rear bumper, smoldering.
“They touched my car,” he ground out. “I’ll kill them.” With his eyes checking every inch of the parking area, he stalked in the direction of his Mustang.
“Lucas.”
Catching the tiny blink of a red LED light reflecting off his chrome bumper, he determined that whoever touched his car had planted some sort of tracking device. “They touched my damn car.”
* * * *
“Lucas,” she said again struggling to get his attention. He ignored her.
“It was bad enough when you took off in her.” He spoke without glancing at her, his concentration on his Mustang.
Gilly moved to his side and followed his gaze. Then she saw the small blip of red flash against the shiny chrome.
“Just when I finally get her restored somebody lays a hand on her.”
“Lucas.” She raised her voice and strode faster. “Lucas.” She stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Don’t.”
“What?” His gaze darkened with anger. “Someone put a tracking device on the car, Gilly, and I’m going to find out whom.”
He started past her and she stuck out her foot. Lucas tripped and stumbled. His knee slammed onto the cement floor. “Shit! What did you do—”
BOOM!
Lucas snatched her arm and tugged her down to the ground. He rolled with her so she lay pinned underneath him. The chrome bumper blew past their heads. “Duck!” He covered her head with his hands, his face next to hers.
BOOM!
Another explosion rocked the floor and orange flames shot out of the Mustang. The hood blasted straight up, bounced off the cement ceiling, and dropped back onto the flames.
“Gas,” she breathed out through compressed lungs.
His eyes went wide. The next instant, he was dragging her across the floor, back toward the stairs.
The next blast sent red metal raining down around them. Lucas threw his body on top of hers and shielded her. She felt him stiffen before he screeched and bowed back.
“What? What happened? Are you alright?”
“No,” he said through gritted teeth and looked over his shoulder and down his body to the point of the pain. “I’ve got a piece of glass sticking out of my thigh.”
“Oh, my gosh!” She scrambled, scooted out from under him, and leaving her 9-millimeter on the ground, she rolled him over to get a look at it.
She heard the pop and hiss as something else shot off the car and whizzed by. A loud clunk landed in front of Lucas.
“Damn! Fuck me and damn!” His head dropped to his forearm.
“Now what?”
“The steering wheel…the freakin’ steering wheel is dead. The last flipping thing I installed and she was complete. Now she’s dead.”
Without him seeing her, Gilly rolled her eyes. “We’re lucky we aren’t dead, you idiot.” She smacked him upside his head. “Now sit still and let me get a look at this glass.”
With as swift a movement as she co
uld manage with one good hand, she yanked the glass out of the back of his leg.
“Shi—it!”
The expletives continued and became even more colorful as she ripped a piece of her shirt off and wrapped it around his leg in a makeshift bandage. When she glanced up, she noticed a fire extinguisher hanging inside the stairwell. Giving his ass a firm pat, she got to her feet and went for the device.
Lucas, back on his feet, took it from her hand. “You call Mickey while I take care of this.”
She nodded her ascent then sputtered, “Oh, no.” And slapped a hand over her mouth.
“What?” Lucas asked over his shoulder as he sprayed white foam over what was left of his Mustang.
“Everything was in the car, my prototype and all the supplies.” Her heart sank and tears sprang into her eyes.
“We’ll replace it. Just call Mickey.” Angling his head, he nodded at his hip. “My phone is in my pocket.” He turned his attention back to the flames licking at the bubbling metal.
She slid her hand inside his pocket and heard his sharp intake of breath over the sizzling fire. Damn, his jeans fit him well. As she dug into the denim pocket, she became aware of Lucas, of every nuance of his muscles as they flexed and bulged. Hurry up, she ordered herself, or she would be the one on fire. Finally, she jerked the phone out. Along with…green lace?
Her eyes rounded in surprise as she stared at a pair of her green lace panties that came out of Luke’s pocket, snagged on his phone’s antenna. “Why do you have a pair of my underwear in your pants pocket?”
“Huh?”
“Why is there a pair of my underwear in your pocket?” she repeated, her voice a little louder.
Lucas lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “When I searched your place, I found them, accidentally walked out of the house with them, and then tucked them away for safekeeping.”
“Safekeeping, my ass,” she mumbled.
“Just dial Mickey, please.”
Fuming, she opened his phone and punched in the number.
NINETEEN
The phone clicked and she spoke. “Mickey, it’s Gilly.”
“I want a date!” A date?
She heard yelling in the background but could not make out the words.
“Mickey,” she hedged. He ignored her.
“You said you would marry me and now I want a date. A hard and solid date!”
A door slammed and Gilly swallowed a knot of discomfort, feeling like a voyeur at someone’s intimate argument.
“Stubborn woman!” She heard air whoosh out on the other end of the line. “Lucas! Where are you? Is Gilly safe?”
“Uh, it’s me, boss.”
“Another stubborn woman.”
“Hey! I resemble that,” she tried goading him out of his foul mood.
“What the heck have you been doing avoiding my calls? Damn it, Gilly, you need to be in a safehouse.”
“Don’t take out your lover’s spat on me.” She bit down on her lip and waited for him to rail at her. She heard a creak, followed by what sounded like a tire going flat, but assumed it was Mickey letting off some steam.
“Yeah, you’re right. My apologies.”
Gilly held the phone out in front of her and stared at it as if it were a foreign object. He apologized? “Uh, no problem.” And damn, now she felt guilty. She put the phone back to her ear and spoke. “I’m sorry for not having called sooner.”
“Okay, now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, what is going on?”
It was her turn to let out some air. She inhaled and exhaled. “We had a little accident.”
“Another one!”
Holding the phone away from her ear, she cringed as Mickey swore rapid fire and some of it in a language, she didn’t understand.
“What happened?” he asked in a much calmer voice when she returned the phone to her ear.
“Somebody blew up Luke’s car?”
“His Mustang?” Mickey asked with as much reverie as Lucas would have.
“Afraid so. He’s right this minute putting out the fire.”
“That’s it. I want you two in here now.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for patience. She had another job to do and both Mickey and Lucas had to get it through their heads that they were not going to interfere. “We have everything under control.”
A bark of laughter came across the wireless line. “Get a grip, Gilly. Someone blew up the only thing Lucas loves almost as much as you.”
Gilly sucked in air and choked. She coughed and when she caught her breath again, spoke. “Uh, Lucas said we’re going to his place. He can protect me there while I finish the job I have to do on Morpheus.” She waited for him to argue and when he didn’t, she went on. “Speaking of Morpheus, everything was in the back of the Mustang and now it’s kind of melted scrap. Could you put Ruby on and maybe she can get some supplies sent to Lucas’s?”
“Maureen.” Mickey cleared his throat. “Listen to me. I do not think it is in your best interest to finish the DARPA contract. It’s obviously unsafe.”
“You don’t know it was because of the ro—”
“You are not a stupid woman, Gilly, and I am not an idiot. We both know Jimmy’s death, this guy Daniel’s death, your gunshot wound and now Lucas’s melted Mustang is related to the chembots the government wants built. Why you in particular and not the competitors, I haven’t figured out yet, but I will.”
Gilly swallowed a knot of fear as her stomach contracted. She knew why and dreaded Mickey or anyone else finding out.
“Mickey, I’m going to follow through on my commitment one way or another. If you don’t want to help then I’ll just go back to DC and move into NanoRobotics since I am now the owner.”
Lucas spun and stared at her slack jawed then said in unison with Mickey, “What?”
Using her shoulder to stabilize the phone, she tugged the envelope out of her pants and handed it to Lucas. “Jimmy left a will and in it, he names me as his beneficiary,” she told both men.
Lucas took the envelope and then setting the extinguisher on the ground, he relieved her of the phone.
“Mickey.” He paused. “Yeah, it’s smoldering embers at the moment. We need a sweeper team to impound it and see what the actual device used was and if there is a signature attached to it or if this was the work of an amateur.” He listened for a second and continued. “We need someone to deal with the locals who are bound to show up soon.”
He bobbed his head a few times, as he opened Jimmy’s letter. Gilly watched in numb silence, her heart pounding hard against her rib cage, the anxiety causing her shoulder to ache. She rubbed at the joint in an attempt at relief, more in an attempt to not feel so exposed.
“Uh-huh. Yeah, got it.”
When Lucas peered up at her, his eyes wide, she wanted to shrink into a corner.
Then he held out the phone for her. “Ruby is waiting for your list.” His tone was so cold her fingers froze when they brushed against his hand in the exchange.
“Uh, Ruby, hi.”
“What the heck is going on? You have Mickey in a tizzy and from the sounds of it, Lucas is not far behind.”
Understatement of the year. “They’ll deal.”
Ruby laughed. “You bet they will. You need some robot parts. Way cool! Talk to me.”
She rattled off the list of what she needed while Ruby typed everything down on the other end of the phone. Maureen just hoped she had not forgotten anything.
“Is that it?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I’ll get it delivered ASAP.” Ruby cleared her throat. “By the way, next time, just call me. I can take care of stuff like this so you don’t have to traipse all over the place for it.”
“Honestly, if I had thought about it, I would have.” Instead, her only thought had been to get as far away from the people she cared about as possible. Speaking of which. “Hey, Ruby.”
“Yeah.”
“How’s my Garin
ion, um, grandfather?”
“He’s a pistol. Jake volunteered to sit on him for a while and apparently, he spotted him and tried to give him the slip. When that didn’t work, Frank invited Jake inside for food.”
Ruby’s laughter was contagious and Maureen found herself laughing as well. “Tell Jake to beware of the Irish tea.” She giggled. “He used to slip Valerian root into my tea so I’d pass out and he could sneak out to the Irish pub without me knowing it.”
Ruby stopped laughing. “Are you kidding?”
“Um, nope.”
“Gotta go.” The phone clicked in Gilly’s ear. Uh-oh. Grandfather, you old fool.
She flipped the phone shut and held it out for Lucas. That was when she noticed him staring at the letter. How many times had he read it?
“When were you going to tell me about this?” Lucas asked without looking at her. He refolded the letter and stuffed it back into its envelope, but he didn’t return it to her.
She felt her face flush, but for what reason? She hadn’t intentionally kept it a secret from him. “I…I only read it this morning while you were in the shower and then everything else happened so fast that I never gave it a second thought…”
“Until Mickey threatened you,” he interrupted. His jaw tightened, a vein in the side of his neck pulsated.
Damn, could she do nothing right?
“Did Jimmy know something was hinky on that project, that there was danger? Is that why he wrote that will before you were even married?”
Sucker-punched. That was the only way to describe the way his question hit her, an invisible jab to the gut. Had Jimmy known? If he had, wouldn’t he have told her? Wouldn’t she have sensed it?
“No,” she murmured.
“You sure about that?”
His accusatory tone grated on her last nerve. “No, I’m not certain, damn it! I don’t know why he wrote the will, only that he did. End of story.”
Never Tempt Danger Page 11
