by Leigh, Jo
“Ravish me, huh?”
He nodded as he put one knee on the bed. Tam leaned her back against the wall as if they’d done this a hundred times but her nipples told a different story. They were hard and excited, just like his dick.
He moved next to her and maneuvered under the covers, so they both shared his pillow. Then he kissed her.
She ran her hand down his side, then up his back. Such a small hand. So delicate. Once more down his side, then she snuck it between them, and she touched his erection with her fingers.
He hissed at the sensation.
“Nate?”
“Yes?”
“You need to sleep. Let me just do this, okay? We’ll make love tomorrow.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I want you to get off, too.”
“I don’t need to. This will make me happy.”
He leaned back farther, barely able to see her expression in the dark. “That’s crazy.”
“No, it’s not.” She gripped his shaft firmly, then pumped, forcing his brain to short-circuit.
“It’s what I want.”
“But—”
She stopped him with a kiss. And got her way. In a shamefully short time, he felt the edge of his climax. She moved her hand more quickly and thrust her tongue deep into his mouth.
He came explosively, and when it was over, he drifted, barely aware that her lips were on his temple, that her breath was warm and sweet. Then, nothing.
Chapter 7
By noon, Vince had a line on four pretty decent computers that he could pick up in Vegas, had made a list of all the machine shops within a hundred miles and helped Kate find her green sweater, which, according to Kate, was the only sweater she truly loved. He’d also gone to the bank.
He’d talked to the branch manager privately, showing Mr. Eccles the badge he wasn’t supposed to have and convincing Mr. Eccles that there was a very serious undercover mission afoot. It helped that back when Vince had quit the L.A.P.D., he’d stolen some letterhead from his ex-captain, upon which he’d written a letter about the serious undercover mission, and how Vince’s identity had to be kept super-duper top secret. Not for the first time, it struck him that since he’d got together with Kate, he’d become a damn good criminal.
He’d made arrangements to get a large wire transfer from Los Angeles and to collect the money in cash. All of which would occur with absolutely no names involved. He’d left with a handshake and a jaunty salute.
He’d ducked yet another bullet. He’d made it out without getting arrested, and no one, to the best of his knowledge, had followed him. He was so pleased he decided to make a pit stop before returning to Motel Hell. When he finally got there, he had to kick Christie’s door to get her to let him in. His hands were full of pizza boxes and salads.
“You stopped?” Kate asked. “You stopped for pizza and you didn’t even call me?”
“Hey, I brought you a salad. With mozzarella cheese in it.”
She took the bag containing the salad and put it on the small round table, next to the very large boxes of pizza. Then she turned back to Vince and socked him in the arm.
“Ow.” He rubbed where she’d hit him, regretting the time he’d encouraged her to work out. “That hurt.”
“You should have called.”
“Okay, okay. I will never get pizza again without calling first.”
“It’s not the—” She stopped. Looked at him through narrowed eyelids. “It’s a good thing that you weren’t killed on your way to the pizza place, or I would have—”
“Killed me? Again?”
“I would have managed it.”
He took her beautiful face between his hands and kissed her. “I know you would have, sweetie. Can we eat now?”
She moved in for a kiss, but only bit his lower lip. “Now we can eat.”
He checked, but she hadn’t broken the skin. Which meant he could safely put red pepper flakes on his slice of pepperoni pizza.
Christie, who’d ignored their little dance, had called the rest of the troops. Boone was up, but still groggy from his night behind the lines. Didn’t stop him from taking a big old slice of pizza. By the time Vince had poured himself and Kate sodas, and grabbed a couple of pieces for himself, Seth, Harper, Cade, Nate and Tam had arrived.
Everyone was pleased about the luncheon menu. Milo, Christie’s golden lab, sat next to Cade, who snuck him several pieces of pepperoni and sausage before his mom put a stop to it. Altogether, they were a happy bunch. Well, as happy as they ever got.
The minute lunch was done, Vince brought everyone up to speed. The computers would be in place in two days. There were several nearby machine shops that would fit their bill, and Kate had her green sweater.
He relaxed, knowing his job was done. He sipped cold soda as the others reported in. Christie’s detail at the Renegade had gone well last night and now that Boone and Seth were there, they could begin going over the pictures of the patrons.
Harper had called an old friend, Noah somebody, who agreed to deliver the GHB. She gave Seth a curious look, and they’d both stared at his claw.
“You’ll meet him somewhere else,” Nate said.
Harper turned from Seth. “He’s safe. He’s the guy who gave Seth his prosthesis.”
“I don’t care. We can’t compromise the motel. When’s he coming?”
“Tomorrow or Wednesday,” she said. “He’s got to spend some time with Seth, check him out.”
“Good. We need to be in perfect working order.” He leaned back on the couch and put his arm around Tam. Not on her shoulders directly, but on the couch above her shoulders.
Vince wasn’t sure what was going on between the two of them. Kate had been mysterious about it, smiling as if it were a secret a dumb cop like him couldn’t grasp. Vince just figured they were testing the relationship waters. It seemed to be a disease among the team. Go into hiding, narrowly escape something horrible, find the love of your life.
His gaze moved over to Cade, and there it was again. Because Vince was still a cop at heart, he’d noticed before that Cade had some kind of weird thing going on about Nate and Tam. From the moony looks he gave when he thought he wouldn’t get caught, Vince figured Cade had a crush on the petite chemist.
It must be hard for him, going solo among all these couples. He’d have to ask Kate more about him. She’d already told him that Cade had left a fiancée behind. Rough. And he always made time for a five mile run sometime during the day. Even if he’d been out all night on patrol. Now that, Vince didn’t get at all. Sure, physical fitness was great and important, but shit. The guy got enough exercise hiding from people who wanted to kill him. Hey, that would make for an interesting fitness plan. Instead of hiring a personal trainer, hire a hit man.
At the moment, Nate and Tam were more interesting than Cade, so he went back to watching them. Yep, there was definitely something going on between those two, but he’d wager they hadn’t figured out what. They were too hesitant with each other, always checking to make sure a look or a touch was welcome.
Vince had no doubt that whatever was holding them back here wasn’t holding them back in the bedroom.
There was no room for that particular kind of indecision, not living under a death sentence. Everything became more intense. Jeez, he and Kate were doing it like bunnies. Of course, that probably had more to do with how crazy he was about Kate than the danger.
Last night, after one of their bunny sessions, Kate had asked him if he would go back to being a cop after it was all over. He hadn’t been able to answer her. Not definitively. He was leaning toward no. The only thing he knew with certainty was that he’d be with Kate. Nothing was going to change that.
“Hold on,” Boone said. “I’ll be right back.” He got up from his perch on the floor and went into the bedroom. When he came back, he had two canisters in his hand. They were made of metal with a warning on the side. As he read, Vince’s heart spe
d up and he grabbed Kate’s hand to get her the hell away.
“It’s okay,” Boone said. “These are empty. New. They’ve never contained any of the gas.”
“You could have said something before you got them,” Vince said, controlling his anger. Damn it, those fucking ex-soldiers. They were worse than undercover cops.
Nate took one of the canisters and shook his head over the symbols and the wording. The canister itself was heavy, made of thick aluminum. On one side was the skull and crossbones and the word Poison, on the other was a chart, a diamond broken into four quadrants of red, yellow, white and blue. Each quadrant had a one or a zero. There was nothing else, no manufacturer’s name, no ID of the gas itself. It could have been any chemical weapon, and if the canister was found by the media or an environmental group, they would assume it was from an already existing stockpile.
As Nate went over the plan for the canisters, Vince studied Tam. He’d only met her a few days ago, but he’d heard plenty. Kate had told him she was smart as hell, and that she’d figured out the antidote to the gas, even though she’d had to compile notes from about eight different scientists. She sure as hell didn’t look like a brainiac.
Interesting about her and Nate. It was a good match for the moment, but he doubted very much it would stand the test of freedom. Nate was one hell of a leader and a man he’d follow to the end, but he was not a one-woman man. Now, yes, but when his options broadened? When the ladies found out what a hero he was?
Vince knew guys like Nate, although he had a suspicion that his friend here didn’t leave furious women behind. No, he’d tell them the truth and they’d thank him for enriching their lives.
Kate poked him in the ribs. “Hey, damn it. Did you even hear the question?”
“Yeah, I…No. What was it?”
“Can you handle the machine shops?” Nate sounded calm, but it was real clear that Vince better not do any more wool gathering. “They can’t be local. And we need about a dozen canisters just like this in about two weeks.”
“Yeah, I can handle that. But won’t they get suspicious when they see that skull and crossbones?”
“We’ll handle the markings ourselves. All they have to do is duplicate the canisters.”
“Check. I’ll get on it ASAP.”
Nate leaned back and took a quick peek at Tam. She smiled and Vince could see the man relax. When Nate turned back to Seth and Boone, he was cool as a cucumber. “What about it, guys? You ready to look at pictures?”
* * * * * *
Leland Ingram stared out the jet’s window, letting the dark sea quiet his mind. He’d thought the trip to Grand Cayman would have done the trick, but he’d had a hell of a time relaxing.
Everything was going so well. They already had a number of foreign buyers lined up who were willing to pay the exorbitant prices they were charging for the gas. The morons were so anxious to kill off their enemies that they hardly listened when he told them one canister of the gas was enough to kill tens of thousands of people if properly dispersed. Of course, Ingram didn’t believe for a second the gas would be handled according to the Material Safety Data Sheet. More than likely, those who bought the weapon would die right alongside those they wanted to kill. It worked for him.
What his buyers also didn’t know was that the payload per canister was a quarter of what was advertised. They didn’t want all of say, South Africa, to be wiped out. That would bring too much attention to their gambit. The goal was to generate in excess of one billion dollars after expenses. The money would be used judiciously in the War on Terror. Senator Raines might have a lot of faults, but his vision was pure.
Ingram didn’t see a need to make any more gas than was necessary. Once the stockpile was gone, they would dismantle the plant and make sure that anyone who could someday develop a guilty conscience was paid off or eliminated. Omicron would go back to its main business of consulting, and no one would be the wiser.
Only one thing stood in the way of his success. Those damn soldiers and the women who’d stuck their noses where they didn’t belong. He had to get Tamara Chen in custody. Of those who could spoil his plans, there was none more dangerous than her. She had the right credentials, she understood the nature of the gas. She had to be taken. She had to be killed. The problem was, he had no idea where she was.
She couldn’t have left the country, not by any conventional means. He’d personally seen to it that she was placed on the no-fly list and her picture sent out to every CIA and FBI office in the country identifying her as a home grown terrorist affiliated with Al Queda.
“Sir, would you care for another drink?”
He looked over at the stewardess, a lovely young thing hired by the firm that maintained the private jet. “Coffee,” he said.
She smiled as she turned back to the galley, and he wondered if Raines had anything to do with her being on board. Ingram knew about the man’s philandering, and despised that side of him. But Raines didn’t welcome any personal conversation, let alone advice about the importance of family.
He turned back to the window, but he wasn’t looking at the ocean any longer. His mind was too busy with the plan he had hatched in an inspired second. By the time he finished his coffee, he knew exactly what he was going to do to flush Dr. Chen out of hiding.
* * * * * *
Seth waited in the truck for Harper to check them into a room. He stared at the casino on his right, and the one across the street. He’d never been to Mesquite, Nevada before, and hadn’t realized it was a miniature Las Vegas. Although, looking at the license plates, this town seemed to cater to the locals. There were one hell of a lot of RVs in the parking lot, even though it was still winter.
It had been Noah who’d suggested they meet at the Virgin River Hotel. He’d stayed there before, and he thought it would be quiet and private enough. And it was the only place in town that had a movie theater.
He’d like to do that—go to the movies. Buy some popcorn and put his arm around Harper as they watched the big screen. He had no idea what was playing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d glanced at the Calendar section of the Times. Entertainment for him was being alone with Harper. They hardly ever even turned on the TV.
He looked back at the hotel entrance, and there she was, looking beautiful in a white sweater and slacks. Her confidence always amazed him. She held her head high, her back straight, not noticing the glances she got from men and women alike.
She had become an amazing partner. They still had their moments. She was stubborn and so was he. But mostly, they fit each other. It made all the difference.
“Room 6110,” she said, as she got into the truck. “I’ll call Noah once we’re inside.”
He drove around the huge parking lot, past the pool and the long two-story buildings surrounding the casino proper.
They were in the farthest building, in the back, on the first floor. Excellent. There were only two other cars parked there, and the room she’d got was far from both.
Once parked, he grabbed their duffel bags from the back, and they went inside. It was nothing great, but a hell of a lot nicer than their home base.
First thing he did was get out his bug scanner. There was no way anyone could have known they were coming here, to this room, but he’d grown accustomed to being exceptionally cautious.
Harper called Noah on her cell, giving him only the necessary information. He was already in Vegas, so he’d meet them in under two hours.
The room was clean, and so was the phone. Seth looked at his watch then met Harper’s gaze. Her smile told him they were on the same page. There was at least an hour to kill and a king-sized bed. Waste Not, Want Not.
* * * * * *
It was ten-thirty, and for once, Nate was in the room, in the bed, not asleep. Tam looked at him again, just to make sure he hadn’t drifted off, but no, he was still watching TV. He had a beer on the nightstand, which he sipped periodically, and the remains of a turkey sandwich on a plastic plate.
But the most interesting thing was the touching part. She was in a T-shirt and panties. He was in his boxer shorts, ever able to leap to the door if something came up. From the moment he’d come in from a meeting with Vince, some part of his body had touched some part of her body.
When she’d been making the sandwiches, it had been his hip. When she’d taken off her pants, his hand went to the small of her back. In bed, they were thigh to thigh, and when she rolled to get her drink, he touched her shoulder.
All that, and she didn’t think he wanted to do anything but this. Watch the tube, then go to sleep.
Was this normal? Not the TV or the sleep part. Did all new couples touch like this? She liked it, no question about that. After such a long time alone, it felt terrific. But that didn’t mean it was healthy.
“Nate?”
He turned his head toward her, but kept his gaze on the TV. “Yeah?”
“What do you miss most?”
That got his full attention. “About what?”
“Your life?”
His thumb moved from the mute button to the on-off button and the room became quiet. “Most? I’m not sure.”
“What are the contenders?”
“My work.”
“You really like all that stuff, huh? The guns, the danger. But then, you’ve got that in this life, too.”
“That’s not the part I miss. It’s hard to explain if you haven’t been in the service. I liked the challenge, the fact that I wouldn’t know from day to day what we were going to face. And the camaraderie. I don’t think there’s any situation around where men depend on each other so thoroughly, and when the pressure’s off, man, the partying…”
