by Liliana Hart
“Sure thing, Ghost. I’m real agreeable like that. I’m running the second face through the recognition program. The plates on the tan sedan are also fake.”
“What do you want me to do, Ghost?” Logan asked. “We’ll be at headquarters soon.”
“Go ahead and lose them,” Gabe said.
“What’s the point?” Grace asked. “It’ll only be a matter of time before they find your headquarters if they were able to track you from the airport.”
“Yes, but I prefer to make them work for it. If they use computers, then Dragon might be able to lock in on their location.”
A low whistle echoed through the phone line. “Damn, that’s the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard,” Dragon said. “Please tell me it belongs to the package you went to pick up. Is she single? What color is her hair?”
“Goodbye, Dragon,” Gabe said and disconnected the line. Gabe caught Grace’s snicker out of the corner of his eye.
“Somebody is going to kill that wanker someday,” Logan muttered.
“Meaning you?” Grace asked.
“I can only hope.”
Grace held on to the seat as Logan accelerated across four lanes of traffic. Horns blared, and she turned to watch the tail cars scramble to keep up. They exited onto a roundabout that had just enough traffic to make things confusing, and they disappeared into the heart of London, no trace of their followers behind them.
Half an hour later, Logan drove them up to the front gate of the building Gabe owned on Chapel Street. It was six stories of dark red brick and beveled bulletproof windows. Wet ivy drooped in planter boxes and snaked across the front of the building—a green so dark it looked black against the red of the brick.
“What’s your cover?” Grace asked.
“Worthington Financial Services. It’s solid. Licensed and taxed to the max. Owned by Edgar Harris. Me,” he said, giving her a wolfish grin. “Your cover is Maggie Fitzpatrick, my new analyst. You’ll only need the cover when you go outside the safety of the building. No one’s allowed inside except for agents.”
“Am I staying here?”
“You have an apartment on the sixth floor. It’s furnished, and a wardrobe has been supplied, though the clothes might be too big. You’ve lost weight.”
“I figured you’d take the top floor.”
“I did,” he said, smiling at the mutinous look that crossed her face. “I’m across the hall from you.”
“As long as you stay on your side, we won’t have a problem.”
“You can’t hide forever, Grace.”
“I find that incredibly ironic coming from you.”
Logan cleared his throat, and they all fell into an uncomfortable silence. The car was scanned, and the wrought iron gate opened smoothly. Logan parked on the short, graveled drive and turned off the ignition. Grace was out of the car before the entry guard could open the door for her, and Gabe came around and took her by the elbow. She stiffened against his touch, but he held firm as he faced the head of Worthington Financial’s security team. As far as his guards were concerned, Worthington Financial was exactly what they portrayed it to be. No one except the immediate team under Gabe’s command really knew what went on inside the building.
“Good evening, Mr. Harris,” said the guard. He wore a dark suit and crisp tie and an earpiece was barely visible in his ear. He wasn’t trying to hide the gun at his waist.
“Good evening, George. This is Ms. Fitzpatrick. She’s new to Worthington Financial.”
“Very good, sir.” George looked Grace over dispassionately, as if memorizing her features, before turning back to his post.
“You’ve got a lot of security,” Grace said, studying the façade of the building. “Cameras, motion detectors, retinal and thumbprint scanners once you get past the guard. Not bad.”
“Financial service is a dangerous business.”
“I could still get in.”
“Which is one of the many reasons I want you on my side.”
“Who puts in all the bells and whistles? You’re good, but not that good.”
“Ethan Thomas. Or Dragon, as he likes to call himself.”
Grace shook her head and said, “You’re kidding me. Isn’t Ethan Thomas that kid the agency was trying to recruit just before I left? The one who hacked into the Pentagon from his basement in Hoboken?”
“The one and only.”
“Christ, he’s an infant. What is he, fifteen?”
“He’s eighteen. And he’s still the best.”
Grace shook her head in disbelief. “That doesn’t make it any better that you have an agent who probably has to check in with his mother once a week. How’d you get him away from agency clutches?”
“I told him he could either go to prison, since he would now be tried as adult, or he could work for me as a kind of community service. The CIA didn’t know what to do with him. He has a bit of an attitude problem. All I had to do was buy his mom a new house and promise he’d get to keep hacking. The kid is fucking brilliant. You’ll like working with him. Eventually.”
Grace’s lips twitched. “Can’t wait to meet him in person.”
Gabe nodded to another guard at the front door and scanned himself in—first the thumbprint, then the retinal scan.
“Your thumb and retinal imprints are already in the system, and your new identity badge with photo ID is on your kitchen counter. Do me a favor and wear the badge whenever you leave the premises. You don’t want the security guards to get antsy.”
Grace stopped him from going inside by putting a hand on his shoulder. Gabe froze in his tracks, the heat from her fingers burning through his clothes, straight to his groin.
“You were pretty damn sure I’d come back with you. Why?”
He shifted his body so they stood facing each other. So close that he could feel her erect nipples through the thin silk of her shirt against his chest.
“Because I know the one thing that turns you on more than anything else.” He whispered the words against her ear and smiled in triumph as she shivered. Her fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt, and he could see her pulse thumping wildly at the base of her neck.
“What’s that?”
“Danger.”
Even saying the word made her pupils dilate and her breath hitch with excitement. Gabe bit back a groan as his cock grew impossibly hard and the urge to take and conquer beat at the base of his skull. She was his woman. He knew that on the most primal level.
He nipped at her ear as he tortured them both. “The more dangerous the better. Isn’t that right, Grace? The higher the stakes, the wetter you get. Remember when we were on that mission in Siberia and had to hide in that cave? Land mines and grenades were going off all around us, and you were so hot for me that I made you come with a whisper of breath and a diamond the size of my fist.”
Her eyes glazed with desire before she could get herself under control, and he knew then and there that she would give him her body again before too much longer. The pull had always been too strong between them. But she wasn’t quite ready yet. They still had things to deal with.
Her hands pushed against his chest, and Gabe backed away, giving her the space she wanted.
“Let’s just make sure that history doesn’t repeat itself,” she said shakily.
Gabe smiled tightly and motioned for her to precede him into the building. Dark hardwood floors gleamed with polish, and a Persian rug in muted colors lay in the middle of the room. Fresh flowers sat on a round table in the center of the rug. To the left of the entryway was a large, glass-enclosed conference room. A mahogany table that sat twelve dominated the room, and empty bookshelves lined one wall. There were no scattered papers. No electronics. And no people anywhere in sight.
“We’ll do most of our team briefings down here,” Gabe said, pointing to the conference room. “All of the upper floors are for personal use by whoever’s in the country at the time, or when I add new agents.”
“Are you planning on expandin
g?”
“I’ve got some ideas. I don’t plan on working in the field forever. I’d like to slow down a little in my old age.”
“I hope it works out for you,” she said, dismissing the thought. “What are those rooms?”
“The whole right side of this floor is offices. You’re welcome to one if you’d like.”
“No, thanks. My job’s in the field. I never sit behind a desk, and I have no plans of slowing down.”
“You can only go on so long in our line of business before you either slow down or get taken down. Is that what you’re looking for, Grace? The easy way out?”
“I died a long time ago, Gabe. Everything from here on is just paving the way to hell.”
They were stopped in front of the elevators, and he wanted nothing more than to take her by the shoulders and shake her until he rattled some sense back into her brain. But she had that stubborn look in her eye that told him the only thing he was going to get was a fight if he kept pushing.
He pulled a key card from his pocket and handed it to her, watching as some of the tension left her shoulders. He decided to lighten things up a bit for both their sakes.
“The elevator needs a key card and a palm print to open and another to take you to whatever floor you want. The fifth floor is a full gym and sauna, and there’s also a lap pool. You’re free to use it whenever you’d like. I wouldn’t want you to get slow and sloppy. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“Jackass. I’m in my prime, and you know it.” She smiled, and he literally felt his heart stumble in his chest. Her eyes were brilliant green, and it was the first time in twenty-four hours he’d seen a sign of life in them.
“Yeah, you are,” he said softly.
He lifted his hand to touch her—just one touch to douse the fierce need that was building inside of him—but the elevator doors opened and ruined the moment. He stepped back and put plenty of space between them so he wouldn’t be tempted to act on the lust that zinged between them like a ricocheting bullet and carry her upstairs to his bed.
* * *
“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” a deep voice said. “You told me there’d be perks with this job, Ghost, but I had no idea. I’ve always been partial to redheads.”
The sound of Jack Donovan’s southern drawl brought Grace out of the trance Gabe seemed to have her in. He’d almost touched her. And she’d almost let him. How many times could she make the same mistake in a lifetime? Apparently, every time Gabe Brennan was in the vicinity.
“You’re partial to every damned hair color on the planet,” Gabe said, rolling his eyes.
“It’s true. I’m a real cad. Want to be the one to reform me, sugar?”
“Well, well,” Grace said. “Jack Donovan, big as life.”
Last time she’d heard, Jack had been the commanding officer of a group of Navy Seals conducting Visit, Board, Search and Seizure missions in the Persian Gulf, but that had been two years ago. She remembered he’d sent pink roses to the funeral. It was weird how some memories were so clear during a time that was for the most part an absolute haze.
“Don’t tell me Gabe’s talked you out of the adrenaline rush of VBSS operations just to come twiddle your thumbs for him. Friendship should only go so far.”
“I figure he needed someone to keep him out of trouble,” Jack said, pointing to Gabe with a charming grin. “And since you’re here, I have a feeling I’m going to have my hands full with that job. You two always manage to find trouble no matter where you are.”
“What can I say? It’s a talent.”
He laughed. “Damn, it’s good to see you, Grace.” He pulled her into a tight hug, and she burrowed into the hardness of his chest. He was a large man, a couple of inches taller than Gabe, and thickly muscled. His dark brown hair was cut close to the scalp, and his angular face was freshly shaven. Misty green eyes made women think romantic thoughts of sonnets and white picket fences, but they got over that notion soon enough. Jack was a womanizer, plain and simple, and he was proud of it.
Tears stung her eyes, but she willed them away and held onto him a little more desperately than she’d intended. She hadn’t held anyone in her arms for so long. Hadn’t even touched anyone. She was a master at keeping her distance, not getting too involved or too close to anyone. It was the only way she knew how to survive. She pulled back so she wouldn’t cling too long.
Gabe stared at her intently, his face blank of any thought. She already regretted her mistake of coming back with him. She wasn’t ready for whatever he had in mind. Her solitude and her trigger finger were the two things that had been most important to her the last couple of years. Gabe had managed to take one of them away so far.
The elevator opened again, and a fresh-faced kid wearing sweatpants and a Halo T-shirt bounded out of the elevator. His hair was dark brown and shaggy, and she’d bet money he’d never shaved a day in his life.
“Hellooo, beautiful. What do you say you and I do a little extra-hours work this evening?”
“Don’t be obnoxious, runt,” Jack said, smacking him on the back of the head. “Grace, this is Ethan Thomas. Try not to kill him. As hard as it is to believe, he actually proves himself useful every once in a while.”
The kid was cute, Grace thought, trying not to laugh so she wouldn’t hurt his feelings. In another ten years he’d be a good-looking man. Right now, though, he was still awkward arms and legs, his body on the thin side. Horn-rimmed glasses lay crooked on his nose, and a slow flush of anger at the way Jack had scolded him was working its way up his neck and into his cheeks.
“Listen, sweetheart. I might be young, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have experience. You know what I mean? I know how to treat a lady.”
“Good thing I’ve never claimed to be a lady,” she said, ignoring Gabe and Jack’s laughter. “The last man who thought he wanted to share his experience with me ended up with a bullet between his eyes.”
Ethan waggled his eyebrows, and he put a hand over his heart. “I think I’m in love. I’ve been looking for a woman who could be my protector. I’ve always thought I would adjust well to being a kept man. This is like kismet. Tell me your name, sweetheart, and make all my dreams come true.”
Grace held out her hand, and Ethan took it automatically. Her grip was strong but nonthreatening, and it gave Ethan plenty of time to feel the ridge of callous along her finger. His eyes widened, and she gave him a smile that made the smirk on his lips and the teasing sparkle in his eyes fade.
“Grace Meredith,” she said. “Gabe tells me I’ll get used to working with you. I’m sure it will be a pleasure.”
He snapped his hand back as if she’d burned him and looked at Gabe with an anger she wouldn’t have guessed someone so young would possess.
Silence lay heavily across the room. Grace wasn’t used to being the center of attention. She was used to hiding behind the rocks and taking the long, hard shots. She used Gabe as her center and didn’t break his stare as Ethan analyzed her closely.
“Seriously, Gabe?” Ethan asked. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Are you questioning my authority, Ethan?”
Grace winced as Gabe turned cold blue eyes toward Ethan, and she shook her head as Ethan tried to bluster his way through. The kid had a lot to learn, that was for sure, and he’d probably be lucky to seen twenty-one with the way he was going.
“She’s a fucking mercenary,” Ethan said, backing up a step as Gabe’s expression grew more menacing. “You can’t trust someone who’s only in it for the money. And from the things I’ve heard lately, she should probably be rotting in a prison somewhere.”
Jack stepped in front of Gabe before things got too far out of hand, and Grace breathed a sigh of relief. No one really knew the kind of people they’d had to be over the last decade. The kills that had to be justified, the lies and subterfuge. She and Gabe and Jack had seen and done unimaginable things. Ethan Thomas couldn’t possibly know what he was dealing with when he tested Gabe like he was
doing. Gabe was a good man—a fair man. But he lived by his own code and his own rules, and if Ethan Thomas overstepped himself or put any other agents in jeopardy with his smart mouth and careless ways, then Gabe wouldn’t hesitate to take him out. She would have done the same thing.
“She served her country just like the rest of us did,” Jack said, trying to calm things down. “And what she’s done with her life since she left the CIA is her business and no one else’s. You know how rumors fly. You’ve never stepped foot out in the field, but the rest of us have spent our lives making life-and-death decisions. And I promise you that there’s not one of us who doesn’t regret occasionally making the wrong choice.”
Gabe stepped around Jack and advanced on Ethan with menacing purpose. Ethan finally caught on to the fact that he was in deep shit and backed away from Gabe until he hit the wall.
Gabe’s voice was low, but each word was clear. “I assembled this team for reasons that you’ll never know or hope to understand. It’s not your place to say or question anything I decide to do. Everyone here starts on a clean slate. And if you have a problem with that, then you’re free to leave and go through debriefing. Have I made myself clear?”
Grace winced and looked at Jack. Being debriefed was a nice way of saying that Ethan would be drugged and brainwashed until he couldn’t remember who Gabe was or anything they’d been working on. She’d heard they’d tried to do that to Gabe when he resigned from the CIA and that they could never break him. Gabe was lucky he hadn’t been taken out by an inside source.
Ethan stared down Gabe, trying to get his temper under control. “Yes, sir,” he said between gritted teeth.
Gabe nodded and backed away, avoiding her gaze as he headed toward the conference room. “Now let’s get some work done,” he called over his shoulder. “Because we’ll all end up dead if we don’t catch this bastard.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Tension vibrated in fine waves from everyone in the room, and Gabe sighed. Grace sat there stoically, pretending it didn’t matter what Ethan thought about her when he knew damned well that somewhere deep inside of her it did. Jack sat beside her like a guard dog ready to defend her honor. And Ethan sat sullenly on the far side of the table. By the time Logan walked in and gave him an arched look in question at the atmosphere, all Gabe wanted was a drink and maybe a good fight.
