“Understood, Mr. Carrera.”
Despite the doctor’s words, Mick didn’t trust him. There was too much at stake financially for Edwards. If he had hired Mad Dog, Mick suspected the scientist would not call the mercenary off so quickly.
But Mick hoped the warning would spur the other man into action and help him confirm Edwards’ involvement in what had happened to Wells. He would be tracking Edwards’ every move so he could better understand the kind of battle he faced to safeguard Caterina’s life.
* * *
The ride back to Mick’s home in Bradley Beach was quiet.
Mick was seemingly lost in his thoughts, probably considering all that they had learned from Edwards.
Edwards, Caterina thought with disgust. He had been so smug and too calm. Clearly unremorseful of all the pain, suffering, and death that had come about because of the contract with Gates Genengineering.
One hundred million dollars for the loss of how many lives? Caterina wondered as another shiver racked her body.
At her movement, Mick shot a quick look in her direction before returning his attention to the road. “Are you okay?”
The low level heat she had been tolerating all day had been steadily growing until her head had begun to pound and now the chills had started.
“I’m hot,” she admitted and tucked her arms tight around herself to contain the involuntary spasms of her body.
His hands tightened and relaxed on the steering wheel before his gaze diverted to hers for only a moment. “It’s about ten more minutes to the house. Can you hold on that long?”
Her head hurt so much that even the off-on bursts of light from the passing street lamps were creating agony in her skull. Only ten minutes, she told herself.
“Only ten,” he repeated and she realized she had spoken out loud.
Another rough shudder slashed through her body, but she lied past her chattering teeth and said, “I can do it.”
She repeated those words as a mantra, trying to ignore the pain and the nearly uncontrollable tremors of her body.
* * *
Mick increased his speed, mindful of Caterina’s degrading condition, but he kept it within reasonable limits so as to avoid being pulled over. The lack of vibration from his cell phone confirmed that his home was apparently still secure since no alarms had been tripped.
He pulled the Jeep into the garage and turned in the seat. “Cat, we’re home.”
She nodded, or at least he thought she did. She was shaking so violently that it made it impossible to know whether or not the motion had been in response to his question.
He sprang into action, exiting the Jeep, and swinging around to her door. He opened it and reached in to carry her from the car and into the kitchen.
Liliana was there, making herself a cup of tea. At her questioning glance, he said, “Cat’s burning up again. I’m taking her to the pool.”
His sister went into action, closing the door to the garage, and disarming the alarm before it tripped. Following him to the edge of the pool, she hovered nearby anxiously as he toed off his boots and ripped his cell phone from his belt. He slipped his holster with the Glock from the small of his back and removed his ankle holster.
“Get some towels,” he instructed and walked with Caterina in his arms to the stairs at the far end of the pool. He carefully moved down the stairs, the chill of the water seeping through his jeans.
Caterina was almost incoherently mumbling something over and over again as he finally entered the water with her.
An immense tremor racked her body at the contact with the cold water. Her eyes flew open, bright orbs of blue made brighter by the reflection from the moonlit pool water.
Rousing, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and buried her face against his chest.
He tucked her close, laying his face close to hers and the heat burning up her body registered against his cheek.
“How is she?” Liliana called out as she tossed down some towels by the lip of the pool and crouched down to get a better look at them.
“It’ll take a little time to cool her down.” But he worried that the fever had returned without another injection of the inhibitor drug.
As he examined Liliana’s face, her similar concern was plainly evident.
“I’ll go get her room ready.”
She rushed off, leaving him alone with Caterina in the pool. He bent his knees, dipping down so that they were covered in the cool water as far as their necks.
Caterina’s face bore a ruddy blush from the fever, but as he cradled her, the heat from her body slowly receded as did the rosy flush. He brought his lips to her forehead, pleased that her body temperature was substantially lower.
“How are you feeling?” he murmured.
“Better,” she replied.
“Let’s get you dry and back to bed to rest. You probably overdid it tonight by coming with me.” Or at least, he hoped that was the reason for the return of the fever and not something else going on in her body.
At her nod, he walked out of the water and onto the pool deck, and released her legs so she could stand on her own. She was wobbly, so he kept one arm around her and she wrapped her arm around his waist. Together they bent and retrieved the towels, drying off their hair and faces. He wrapped a towel around her body to collect some of the water dripping off her clothes. Scooping up his cell phone and weapons, he then picked her up and took her upstairs to the guest room.
Liliana waited there with yet more towels. On the nightstand by the bed she had set up a small bowl and some hand cloths. The bowl was filled with water and ice in the event the fever returned.
Mick walked to the edge of the bed and let Caterina slip to her feet again.
“I’ll help you get out of those wet things,” his sister said and he took that as a cue to leave and also change into something dry.
In his room, he ripped off his sodden clothes and tossed them into the bathtub. Briskly rubbing a towel across himself to counteract the cold pool water, he dried off and eased into a t-shirt and sweats. Brushing his hair back with his fingers, he returned to the room where Liliana had managed to get Caterina out of her clothes and into bed.
Liliana was drawing another sample of blood and when he walked in she explained, “I want to try and figure out what’s causing the fever this time.”
After the vacutainer was filled with phosphorescent green blood, Liliana efficiently removed the needle from Caterina’s arm and bandaged it. As she finished, Caterina reached out and grasped her hand.
“Thank you, Lil,” she said and Liliana returned the gesture, taking Caterina’s hand in a reassuring clasp.
“It’ll be okay, Cat. I promise,” his sister said.
Mick wished he could make the same pledge, but said nothing as Liliana walked toward him, the glowing blood sample in her hand. “I’m due back in the hospital in a couple of hours. I’m going to try and grab a nap before then.”
“I’m sorry I’ve made it so hard for you,” he said, but his sister surprised him by smiling.
“Not hard at all. You’ve given me a place to stay and a reason to believe in myself again. It gave me the strength to do the right thing.”
“Harrison?” he questioned and she confirmed it with a slight dip of her head.
“Harrison and Caterina. I know you’ll find the strength to do the right thing as well.” She rose up on tiptoes and brushed a sisterly kiss on his cheek before leaving the room.
The right thing, Mick thought, closed the door, and approached the bed where Caterina rested, her gaze locked on him as he neared.
Her skin had lost the flush of fever and returned to its creamy hue. Thick curly locks of her nearly black hair, heavy with moisture, rested against the side of her face.
As she turned her face and the deep blue of her gaze met his, she said, “No matter what happens at the end, you’ve done the right thing by me.”
At the end, he thought, unsure of anything other than the fact that t
his would all not end well for someone. Whether it was Edwards or Mad Dog or Caterina or even himself, someone would pay a high price at the conclusion of this assignment.
Mick sat on the edge of the recliner and cradled her cheek. Her skin bore a slight chill from the water and was smooth beneath the pad of his finger. So smooth and womanly.
* * *
Caterina covered his much larger hand with hers. His palm was rough. Clearly the hand of a man who worked hard with his hands. A strong hand, she thought as she trailed her fingers past his wrist and to his forearm. The hair on his arm was soft beneath her palm. His body muscled and lean until she reached the edge of the bandage on his forearm that covered the wound he had received battling for her. Another scar to add to the rest of the damage on his body.
It had to be the fever that was making her remember just how that body had felt against hers when he had held her in the pool. How he had kissed her and she had responded, awakening passion that might be better left unexplored only . . .
“Would you hold me?” She needed the human contact. Needed the affirmation that she was still a woman. A desirable woman unless she was misreading the signals he was giving.
“If holding is all you want, I may not be your man,” Mick replied and dipped his thumb down to trace the edges of her lips.
“I want more. I want to feel alive again, Mick.”
* * *
She’s using me, but it wouldn’t be the first time or the last that a woman did that, Mick thought. Considering he found her damned attractive, weird genes and all, why not give into the temptation and get it out of his system?
“Move over,” he said.
Caterina shifted to the center of the bed and he joined her there, lying on his side and facing her. Their bodies less than a foot apart.
“Touch me,” she said and pulled away the sheet, exposing the fullness of her breasts with their soft tips that beaded as his gaze fell on them.
He ran the pads of his fingers across the tip of one breast. Cupped the weight of it in his hand and rubbed his thumb across the tip until her nipples beaded into even stiffer nubs.
I need to taste, he thought and bent his head, licked the one tip while continuing to caress the other nipple with his hand.
She arched her back to give him easier access and cradled the back of his head. Moaned as he teethed the peak of one breast. He soothed that gentle nip with another lick and suckled at her breast while shifting one hand downward, across the flat expanse of her midsection. Past the delicate indent of her navel until the curls between her legs brushed the tips of his fingers.
She moved closer and threw her thigh up over his, inviting him to her most private center.
He accepted that invitation, leisurely skimming his fingers across her center until the sensitive nub swelled and a fine trembling enveloped her body. He shifted his fingers lower and experienced the wet of her femininity. Stroked her warm moist lips and teased the entrance to her center with the light touch of his fingers.
* * *
Caterina gasped as he explored her center, gripping his shoulders as he eased in first one finger and then another, stretching her in preparation for his possession.
“Mick,” she keened, shifting her hips against his hand. Holding his head to her, but wanting to feel the warmth of his body beside her.
He slipped inches away and she reached for the hem of his shirt. Pulled it over his head while he skimmed the sweat pants down his body, revealing the nakedness beneath the fleece.
She laid her hands on his shoulders once more and took a moment to enjoy all of him that was visible. The articulated and defined muscles of his body. The scars and bruises that spoke of a man familiar with danger and accustomed to violence.
But there was nothing violent about the way he touched her. About the gentleness of his mouth and hands as he resumed his loving.
She once again granted him access and he used it to full advantage, rousing her passion much as she urged him on, using her hands to stroke him. Playing him much as she might a sonata, each measured beat and pull of her hands on his erection giving him pleasure until he, too, was trembling and breathing roughly.
“I can’t wait anymore, Cat,” he said, rolling her beneath him. His arms braced on either side of her body as he slipped between her legs, but paused before entering her.
“I can’t either, Mick,” she replied and dropped one hand so she could encircle him and guide him to her center.
He sucked in a shaky breath as she gasped at his entry and held still as her body accommodated to the size of him. Thick in girth and perfect in length, he filled her completely, creating an almost unbearable pressure within her. Making her want to move on him and feel the intense friction of that long hard cock against her, but he held still, reining in his need. Letting her set the pace of the lovemaking.
She was the first to move, raising her knees to grasp his hips. The motion drove him even deeper within her, stretching her to the point of pleasure pain.
He met her gaze then, his eyes almost black with desire. A flush across the high cheekbones inherited from some long ago Aztec descendant. Full lips she wanted to savor.
She cradled the straight strong line of his jaw and brought her lips to his. Eased her tongue past the seam of his mouth to mimic the motion of their bodies. Her tongue darted along his much like he was drawing her ever closer to release with the stroke of his hips, pumping in and out of there. The friction building desire with every sure thrust of his hips.
His movements grew more hurried and she urged him on with the soft cries of pleasure she whispered against his lips and the shift of her hips against his. She was almost writhing against him when something suddenly coalesced in the center of her.
The energy gathered into a ball and then exploded throughout her body, pulling him into her and caressing him as her climax overtook her body.
* * *
Mick exhaled roughly against her mouth as her soft cry of completion came against his lips and the muscles of her body milked him, pulling and tightening on him as his own release hovered around the edges of his body.
She felt so good beside him. Around him, her body tightening around him. The hard pebbled tips of her breasts rubbing along his chest.
He felt the first sharp jerk of his climax as his balls tightened and at her long moan and shift of her hips, driving her ever deeper, his release erupted across his body.
He managed to drive into her a few more times, prolonging her climax, but then he dropped down onto her, drained. His body heavy against hers, but she wrapped her arms around him and urged, “Don’t leave me yet.”
Yet, he realized, glad that she understood the limits of what they had just experienced, but saddened by that as well.
He allowed himself to bask in the pleasure of her soft skin beneath him, and the heat and wet of her center as her body caressed him while he slowly softened within her.
The temperature of her body remained warm, a little hotter than normal. Thankfully nothing like it had been earlier in the night.
Guilt rose up on so many levels, but he ruthlessly drove it back, justifying what had just happened with one simple truth.
They had both wanted it to happen.
Now the question was: Where did they go from here?
Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mad Dog hadn’t worried about circumventing the security system guarding Mick’s office/apartment.
He wanted Mick to know he was on his trail.
Shitty digs, he thought, walking around the one room office before heading up a back staircase to the loft apartment overlooking part of the U Penn campus and the railway yards for 30th Street Station.
The layout of the loft was basic. Living and dining areas. Kitchen and a bedroom. The furniture utilitarian. A Spartan residence empty of any personal touches.
He rifled through the kitchen cabinets and drawers of all the furniture, but found nothing of interest. He returned to the offi
ce.
There were a few cabinets filled with what appeared to be old case files. No computer anywhere. Too hard to secure and so Mick probably took it with him wherever he went.
That’s what he would do and that’s probably where Mick had any of the kind of information which might lead him to where his old colleague might be hiding.
There was nothing in the apartment to tip him off.
No bills or mail. Everything probably went to a P.O. Box somewhere. No personal papers of any kind.
Begrudgingly he admitted that Carrera was damned good at what he did, but Mick wouldn’t be able to play hide and seek much longer.
Disgusted, Mad Dog plopped into the leather chair by Mick’s desk and as he did so, he noticed the paper shredder sitting on the garbage can beneath the desk.
Bending, he tossed off the shredder and saw the long thing strips of paper within the garbage can. He pulled out the paper shreds and tossed them on top of the desk. Carefully he sifted through the pieces and discovered bits of color in all the boring business white.
He pulled those soft pinkish shreds out of the pile. They were of a heavier weight, likely from an envelope. Unfortunately, most of the pieces were too small, except . . .
Mad Dog pulled one larger piece from the pile where the cross cut shredder had failed to do its job.
Printed on the pale pink corner was the start of an address. He rummaged through some more of the colorful shreds and found another few strips that he pieced together.
From one set he got part of a word: Brad.
From another just a “ch”.
Not enough, he thought, perusing the strip of paper from what had likely been a personal letter. He hadn’t been able to pinpoint any of Mick’s liabilities, but now he had a possible lead to the name of a place where there might be someone of interest to his old colleague.
Someone who would end up dead if Mick didn’t hand over Shaw.
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