by Debra Webb
“Wrong.”
Irritation stole across her delicate features, enhancing the lines of fatigue around her blue eyes. “What’s wrong about that? Do you have a better idea?”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then what’s your point?”
“The point is that you would be doing exactly what they want you to do.”
“Oh, really? And how might I be doing that?” she snapped.
Ian draped his arm over the empty chair next to him and studied her for a long moment. She was tired, she wasn’t thinking clearly. “If you make live contact with Solomon, you’ll be leading the shooter right to the mark. You said yourself that no one knows where he is but you.”
She shook her head, sending that blond mane into action. “Daniels thought maybe someone was already on to Solomon’s location. Besides, I know how to lose a tail.”
“Some are more difficult to shake than others.” Ian shrugged. “And if Solomon’s location had already been compromised, why bother coming after you with all these elaborate death threats? Why waste the time or the effort? The shooter could just go straight to the mark.”
“You’re right.” The reality of what she had almost done hit Nicole hard. “Why didn’t I see that?”
Ian caught himself before he covered her hand with his own. The only way he could help Nicole was to keep his distance. Their relationship had to be maintained on a strictly professional level, for more reasons than one. “You’ve been through a lot in the past three weeks with no backup. Emotion and instinct have gotten all tangled up.”
Nicole sat bolt upright. “I have to get word to Solomon to sit tight. If I don’t show tonight without letting him know, he might get spooked.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have Martinez show up in your place to hold Solomon’s hand.”
“Good idea,” Nicole murmured distractedly. “Solomon might do something lame.” Nicole’s questioning gaze landed on Ian’s. “What do you think we should do next?”
It was Ian’s turn to be surprised. Nicole usually preferred doing things her own way. “We sit tight and let the shooter come to us,” he suggested.
“You think he’ll do that considering I’ve hooked up with you now?”
Ian studied her concerned expression. Nicole was willing to risk her life by going it alone in order to protect Solomon. Ian wondered sometimes if the people they protected deserved such selfless sacrifice.
“If he wants Solomon, he won’t have a choice,” Ian assured her.
Glass shattered in the living room, followed by a thunderous whoosh. Ian shot to his feet, automatically reaching for his weapon. “Stay in here,” he ordered curtly.
Before Nicole could protest, he moved cautiously into the hall. A distinct chemical odor filled his nostrils. A quick survey of the living room confirmed his suspicions. The east side of the room, including the front door, was already engulfed in flames. This was no simple Molotov cocktail. Ian gritted his teeth. He pivoted to find Nicole standing right behind him.
She swore. “We have to get out of here,” she murmured distractedly as she considered the ravenous flames. The walls seemed to melt wherever the flames reached.
“The balcony,” Ian agreed, grabbing her arm and ushering her in that direction.
Nicole shook her head, still staring at the mushrooming devastation. “Why is he doing this?”
“Hurry, Nicole,” he ground out as he ushered her away from the threat.
Ian jerked the French doors open and dragged a hesitant Nicole out onto the balcony. He glanced over the balcony’s railing at the pool below, then assessed the rapidly growing destruction behind them.
Nicole took one last glance at her home which was swiftly going up in smoke. “We have to get out of here,” she repeated distractedly.
“You do swim, don’t you?” Ian asked slowly.
She glared at him as if he’d lost complete control of his senses. “What? Yes!”
“Good, because we need to jump now.”
Realization suddenly dawned in Nicole’s eyes. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Probably,” he agreed, his full attention on the inferno edging ever closer to their location. He wondered briefly if there were any other tenants in the building. He would have to see that everyone got out. Ian took another look over the railing. “Ladies first,” he suggested, trying to sound optimistic.
Nicole balked. “Who knows if we’ll even hit the pool. There’s no way I’m jumping off this balcony, Michaels. We’ll just have to figure out an alternative.”
“Is that your final decision?” His gaze darted back to the flames now licking their way up the curtains of the balcony’s French doors.
“Damn straight,” she retorted, still assessing the situation.
Ian tossed his weapon into a small Dumpster two stories below and to the right. Then, before Nicole fully comprehended his intent, he picked her up and pitched her over the side.
He followed—hoping like hell he hadn’t underestimated the required trajectory for a splash landing.
Chapter Four
Gasping for breath, Nicole dragged herself out of the deep end of the pool. She shoved the wet hair from her face and glared at the man emerging from the chilly water next to her.
“We’re lucky we didn’t break our necks,” she complained crossly. “You could have killed us both.”
Looking dark, wet and insanely wicked, Ian smiled. “But I didn’t. In fact—” he swiped the dark hair from his eyes “—I saved your life.”
Nicole got to her feet. The wet cotton T-shirt lay plastered to her chest like a second skin. At least she still had on her denim jacket. “Do me a favor,” she groused, then shivered as the cold seeped into her skin.
Ian got to his feet, water puddling around him. “What?”
“Next time you want to save my life, just shoot me.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He flashed Nicole a look that could have meant any number of things, none of which she wanted to consider at the moment. “We need to make sure your neighbors got out safely,” he suggested, turning his attention to the building they had so hastily exited in such an unorthodox manner.
Nicole inhaled sharply as the roar of flames and the distinctive crackle of destruction drew her attention back up to the balcony. Damn. They had got out just in time. She swallowed the lump of emotion rising in her throat. Agent Daniels hadn’t been so lucky when his house went up in flames. How long would her luck hold out?
“We’re okay,” Ian assured her softly.
Nicole’s gaze moved back to his. A frown tugged at her mouth. She must look pretty shaken if he was showing this much concern. Nicole watched, feeling oddly displaced, as Ian straightened his dripping wet jacket and strode to the nearby Dumpster. She scrubbed away the rivulets of water streaming down her face with the back of her hand. She wondered briefly how the man could look so good soaking wet and digging through a trash container. Nicole shivered again, whether from the cool night air or from simply looking at Ian, she couldn’t be sure. She almost laughed out loud. What was wrong with her? Her apartment building was going up in flames and she was standing there ogling the only man she could trust to help her. And who, she reminded herself, had every reason to walk away without looking back.
When Ian found his gun, he tucked it into his waistband and turned in Nicole’s direction. That silvery gaze connected with hers, and Nicole’s knees went weak. She was losing it. That much was clear. Too much stress, not enough sleep…
“Stay behind me,” he ordered.
Too tired and disgusted with herself to argue, Nicole obeyed. She stuck close behind Ian as he stole to the front corner of the building. Several tense seconds passed while he surveyed the street and sidewalk for any recognizable threat. No matter what she had done to him in the past, Ian would not walk away. He intended to protect her at all costs, and that bothered Nicole. But wasn’t that what she wanted? She studied his intent features. She didn’t want any of this to
hurt Ian. And she definitely didn’t want to fall in love with him again. Her heart couldn’t take that kind of abuse a second time.
But she needed him. There was no one else.
“Let’s go,” he instructed quietly.
Half running to keep up with his long strides, Nicole followed Ian to the front entrance of her building. A crowd from the neighboring apartment complexes was already gathering in the street. Their murmuring grew louder as she and Ian took the front steps two at a time into the burning building. Nicole hesitated long enough to glance up at her apartment one last time. Flames shot out of the living-room window and licked upward, charring everything in their path. Panic tightened her chest when she allowed herself to briefly consider that she had just lost all her worldly possessions. Anger rushed through her veins then, quickly replacing the lesser emotion. Pushing aside the sudden and almost overwhelming urge for revenge, Nicole hurried after Ian. A voice from the crowd shouted an unnecessary reminder that the building was on fire as she disappeared inside.
“Which apartments are occupied?” Ian demanded the moment she cleared the door. Smoke drifted and curled down the stairs like eerie black fog.
“That’s the only one besides mine.” Nicole pointed to the door of the first-floor apartment on Ian’s right. “The guy lives alone and he’s out of town most of the time.” Nicole resisted the urge to hold her breath. She blinked rapidly to fight the burn in her eyes.
“Let’s hope he’s not home now.” Ian moved closer to the door, checked to see if it was locked, then kicked it hard near the knob. One more solid kick and the door flew inward. Ian surveyed the now-useless lock as he entered the apartment. “He really should have a dead bolt installed. Anyone could just walk right in.”
Nicole rolled her eyes at his macho display. “You couldn’t just do the thing with the credit card?” she chastised as she followed Ian inside.
“There’s no time.” Ian paused a beat at the sound of distant sirens. “Check the kitchen, I’ll get the bedroom and bathroom,” he said, already halfway across the room.
Less than a minute later, they met in the living room once more. “All clear,” Nicole reported. The screaming sirens sounded much closer now.
“Good. We should go.” Ian snagged Nicole’s hand and moved quickly out the apartment door and through the thickening smoke in the stairwell. Nicole covered her nose and mouth with her free arm until she emerged into the fresh night air. A police cruiser careened around the corner at the end of the block, followed by two fire trucks. Ian pulled Nicole in the opposite direction, using the crowd of spectators as cover. No one paid them any real heed now that the red and blue lights had captured their collective attention. Shattering glass echoed through the night as windows exploded from the intensifying heat.
Once on the other side of the street, Ian unlocked and opened the driver’s side door of a black sedan. “Get in,” he commanded brusquely.
Unable to prevent one last look back at her former home, Nicole trembled with aftereffects. When would this end? She hugged her arms around her cold, wet middle. And, more important, how would it end?
“Nicole,” Ian urged softly.
Nicole turned away from the devastating sight, then blinked away the lingering images. She had no place to go now. She had no home. And she definitely couldn’t go back to her office.
Nicole swallowed tightly.
Ian’s hand pressed gently against the small of her back. “Get in the car, Nicole,” he murmured close to her ear.
Ian. At least she still had Ian.
But once he’d had time to really think about all that she had told him, would he turn his back on her?
“WE NEED a room for one night,” Ian stated with as much charm and a smile as persuasive as anything the current James Bond had ever managed on the silver screen.
The expression on the hotel receptionist’s face was priceless. Nicole could just imagine what must be going through the woman’s mind. Ian stood before her counter as handsome as sin, and looking for all the world as if he had just been baptized, Armani suit included.
“Of…of course, sir.” The receptionist blinked, obviously having just realized that she was staring. Blush stained her cheeks. “Smoking or nonsmoking?”
Ian removed his wallet and placed a damp credit card on her counter. “Nonsmoking, downstairs and facing the parking lot, please,” he answered with another smile that made the woman’s eyes widen in appreciation.
“Certainly, sir,” she purred. “Is there anything else I could help you with?”
Ian leaned over the counter a bit. “Would you happen to know an all-night dry cleaner, Jean?” he inquired smoothly, using the name emblazoned in gold letters across her name tag.
The receptionist’s eyes sparkled with glee. “I’m sure I can arrange that.”
Nicole resisted the urge to kick Ian. She supposed that he couldn’t help it if charm literally oozed from his magnificent body. The sound of his voice alone was enough to make most women’s hearts beat a little faster. Deep, velvety, lightly accented in that unusual European blend. And he was so devilishly handsome. Nicole released a heavy sigh. She was wet, tired, homeless, and at this point, even beyond being affected by Ian’s many fascinating attributes. Watching him focus that mesmerizing charm on another woman was about as far from entertaining as could be, in Nicole’s opinion.
When the paperwork was finished and the receptionist properly dazzled, Ian led the way to the ground-floor room. He unlocked the door and stepped aside for Nicole to enter. A bed had never looked better, Nicole thought with overwhelming relief. She peeled off her jacket and kicked off her shoes. She shuddered as the air-conditioned temperature of the room penetrated her wet clothing.
“Take a hot shower,” Ian told her as he locked the door and checked the window. He turned then, and stared at her with too much concern. “Leave your clothes and a towel outside the door.”
Nicole nodded. She pivoted and hurried into the bathroom. After locking the door behind her, she removed her FBI identification and placed it on the back of the toilet tank, then stripped off her wet clothes. She opened the door only as far as necessary and deposited a towel and her soggy attire, sans her panties and bra, on the floor. She quickly removed the remaining towels from the towel bar and hung her underwear there. They would dry in no time at all and she had no intention of allowing Ian to touch them. That would just make putting them back on that much more difficult. Before she could stop it, the memory of their lovemaking only twenty-four hours ago loomed large in her mind. Ian could use his hands, his mouth, in ways that made her breath catch even now, just thinking about him. How would they ever spend the night together in this tiny room without wanting each other?
Wanting each other wouldn’t be the problem, Nicole decided as she stepped into the hot spray of water. Not taking what the other had to offer would be the real test of self-discipline. Nicole closed her eyes and allowed the hot, heavenly liquid to flow freely over her face and down her body.
She had to remember that their time together couldn’t be about what had happened between them three years ago, and it couldn’t be about the lust that still lingered.
It had to be about one thing and one thing only, staying alive long enough to catch a killer who had already murdered at least two federal agents.
IAN GENEROUSLY TIPPED the hotel employee who showed up at the door to take the laundry bag containing their wet clothes. The guy looked more like a night custodian than a bellboy, but that didn’t matter to Ian. He was quite certain that this particular service was not usually provided by the hotel, and he appreciated the effort. The helpful employee had also located a first-aid kit. Ian rotated his injured shoulder. It hurt like hell, and he’d had to remove the wet bandage. The wound would require another dressing.
Ian stepped over to the bed and tossed the first-aid kit next to his bag. He removed the shirt he had packed. He’d brought along only one change of clothes, so he and Nicole would have to share.
Ian would wear the black slacks, Nicole would get the black button-up shirt.
Ian moved to the bathroom door and hesitated a moment before knocking. The sound of spraying water abruptly ceased and Ian moistened his lips as he imagined Nicole emerging from the shower amid a billowing cloud of steam, water droplets trickling down her bare, satiny skin. He closed his eyes and savored the vision of her slowly drying first her long blond hair, then her toned, slender body.
“What am I supposed to wear?”
The muffled demand snapped Ian from his erotic fantasy. He rubbed a hand over his chin and swore hotly under his breath. What was wrong with him? He could not allow this consuming desire for what he should not want to take control again. Nicole had betrayed him once already, he couldn’t set himself up to allow it to happen again.
Ian hung the shirt on the knob. “It’s on the door,” he said tersely and turned away. He had a plan to lay out and arrangements to make. He didn’t have time to lust after a woman, especially not Nicole.
Ian heard the door open then quickly close again. He gritted his teeth against the need welling inside him in spite of his renewed determination. Sharing quarters this close was going to be pure torture. Ian clenched his fists at his side and mentally reviewed all that had happened in the past thirty hours.
After three years, Nicole had come to him for help. His refusal had been short-lived. The rental car exploding with Nicole entirely too close had put a kind of fear in his heart that Ian had never before experienced. He still cared too much. And that was not a good thing. He had to stay focused and keep his distance. For Nicole’s sake, and for his own. He would not permit himself to fall for her again, but he would see that she stayed safe. And, one way or another, he would get the bastard threatening her life. Ian remained convinced that these were only attempts intended to send Nicole rushing to relocate Solomon. But each incident was proving more haphazard with the kind of high-risk variables that could easily get Nicole and anyone else who happened to be in the way killed.
