by Cindy Dees
Her cane scorched her palm as she made her way out of the kitchen. She felt Mac’s gaze lock on the hideous thing. Humiliation smoldered like a hot coal in her gut. The last time he’d seen her walk she’d been lithe and graceful, an athletic and whole person.
The sound of her cane’s rubber tip thudding rhythmically on the stairs was obscene in her ears. Tears burned her eyelids before she made it to the second floor. She stopped in the hallway upstairs, out of sight of Mac, and sagged against the wall. She dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. Damn him! Why had he come back and opened up all these old wounds? Why couldn’t he have left well enough alone? She bit back the sob rattling in her chest. She would not cry in front of Mac Conlon.
She took a deep breath and made her way to her bedroom. She opened the desk drawer in the corner and pocketed the videotape she’d stuck there after the police came.
Mac was waiting at the foot of the stairs for her. As she brushed past him, she couldn’t help sucking in a sharp breath at the familiar scent of his cologne. Memory washed over her of their unforgettable nights together. His gaze snapped to hers, blue fire flickering hotly in his eyes. He remembered, too.
She loaded the tape and hit the play button. Mac pulled up a chair and sat down directly in front of the TV. He leaned forward intently and stared at the images fixedly for several minutes. And then they got to the part where Ruala fired the RITA rifle for the first time and did that finger rocking thing. Susan jumped as Mac abruptly muttered a foul curse under his breath. Apparently he agreed with her assessment. Not that she’d doubted it for a second.
Mac pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. The conversation was short. “Mac here, sir. Yup, it’s him. No doubt about it. Roger. Right away.”
He closed the phone and tucked it back in his pocket. “Colonel Folly wants this tape in Washington ASAP. He also wants a signed statement from you about how you got the tape and how you recognized Ruala. Doc and Howdy will fly the tape and the paperwork back to him, and Dutch and I will stay here and keep an eye on you until the bastard is arrested and off the street.”
Susan looked hard at him. “You mean, until you know Ruala can’t come here again and try to kill me.”
If four faces could possibly have gone more stone-like, she didn’t think she’d ever seen them. She announced, “Don’t even think about holding out on me. I handed you this guy on a silver platter. Heck, I’m the one he shot in the first place and came after last night. Surely I deserve straight answers, here.”
Mac flinched. She hated the sympathy that flashed across his face. But then, she’d had ten long years to get touchy about pity. She rubbed her knee out of reflex.
“Why aren’t you guys just sticking me in protective custody?”
Mac sighed heavily. “There have been some problems with witnesses against this guy in Federal custody.”
“Problems?” she asked sharply.
“Yeah. They died,” he said shortly.
It was one thing to know that kind of thing happened, but it was another thing entirely to hear it stated as fact. By an expert who knew what he was talking about. She gulped.
Mac continued. “Charlie Squad has no authority to hold witnesses. We’d have to turn you over to the Federal justice system. And we can’t take a chance on Ruala or Ferrare getting to you.”
She asked soberly, “Is Ruala still working for Eduardo Ferrare?”
“Yeah. As far as we know.” Mac’s turbulent gaze locked with hers. Not a happy camper.
So, it took a threat to her life to smoke Mac Conlon out of whatever hole he’d been hiding in all these years, did it? Abruptly, she was furious at him for never coming back. For never fighting to fix their relationship. Never mind that he’d been a complete jackass, or that she’d sent him away from her bed with orders never to darken her doorstep again. What she couldn’t forgive was that he never even tried. For ten years she’d been relieved that he had the decency not to bug her, and now she was mad about it? Lord, she was a mess.
Susan asked, “So what are you going to do with me?”
Grim looks passed all around the table.
Mac answered for all of them, “We’re going to find someplace way isolated to hide you until we catch up with Ruala.”
He made apprehending an infamous assassin sound easy. “And just how do you plan to catch up with him?” she asked.
He looked her square in the eye. “Ruala broke in here last night looking to kill you. He’s got to keep trying until he succeeds. Neither he nor Ferrare can afford to let you testify against them. If we stick close to you, I expect he’ll come to us.”
And what did that make her? Bait? No, thank you very much. She had no desire to be the minnow the barracudas fought over. Worse, it would mean Mac living with her for days or even weeks, until Ruala showed up again.
“But I don’t want you with me, Mac.” Drat. Her voice wobbled as if she was some scared little girl. She’d be damned if she’d show weakness in front of him!
He looked exasperated. “Susan, this isn’t open for discussion. We’re here on an official mission. I’m under orders to keep you safe until Ruala is apprehended.”
She studiously ignored the little flicker of joy deep in her gut that he couldn’t leave. “You’d come here and impose yourself on my life? You, of all people?”
Mac sent her a warning look. From the brash, fun-loving guy ten years ago, she would have ignored such a thing. But this man had an air about him that suggested she wouldn’t like it if he picked up the gauntlet she’d just thrown down. Tough. She wasn’t letting Mac Conlon intimidate her.
“We’ve got to stop this guy. Do you have any better ideas on how to find him and neutralize him?” Mac ground out.
She stared at him in impotent anger. It wasn’t as if she had any choice in the matter. And that was what rubbed her fur the wrong way the most.
He leaned forward, glaring at her. “You give me the name of someone else whom Ruala knows has fingered him, and who Ruala’s likely to try to kill in the next couple days, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
The other men shifted, looking uncomfortable. Omar Sharif—Doc—spoke for the first time. “Ma’am, you’ve had a tough experience and we don’t want to make matters any worse. We really are trying to help you.”
Mac stared at her, his mouth tight and his gaze troubled. This meeting wasn’t easy for him, either. And she’d called them, after all. She sighed. “Fine. You can stay.”
But an hour later, as she signed a detailed affidavit at the kitchen table and passed it over to Howdy, she wasn’t so sure about what she’d gotten herself into. Days or even weeks of sitting across the kitchen table from Mac like this? Living in intimate proximity to the one man who made her heart pound just by looking at him?
She asked Mac, “Now that I’ve turned this tape and my statement over to Uncle Sam, is there any chance I can step away from this whole mess from a legal standpoint?”
He frowned. “Not by a long shot. You’ll have to testify against Ruala in person.”
Her heart sank. That’s what she’d been afraid of.
“Look, Susan. To my knowledge, you’re the only person still alive today who has both seen Ruala at close range and been shot by him. Your testimony is going to be important to the government’s case. You can also testify against Eduardo Ferrare. You know what was on the surveillance tapes of Ferrare that were destroyed in the van the night you and the van got shot up.”
She didn’t like the sound of that at all. “I really don’t want to stand up in plain sight of these guys and testify against them. You and I both know they’ll find a way to take me out.”
Mac leaned forward. “Suzie, even if you back out now, they know you fingered them. The only reason you’re alive right now is because the police got here when they did. You’ve got nothing to lose by testifying. If you can help Uncle Sam put Ruala away once and for all, then and only then will you be safe.”
“What about Ferrare?” sh
e asked.
Mac smiled without humor, the expression of a wolf on the scent of prey. “Ferrare’s got issues of his own to deal with at the moment. We’re hot on his heels. Believe me. You’re not his biggest problem right now.”
She looked around at the other members of the team for confirmation, and they all nodded grimly at her. Lord, what a choice. Hide and be hunted forever by a murderer, or agree to testify and be hunted even more aggressively until Ruala landed behind bars.
“How do you plan to keep me alive until I can testify against this guy?”
She caught Mac’s gaze and held it, whether he liked it or not. The last time she asked Mac a big question, he’d dodged it. Failed to tell her that the reason she’d been pulled from the Ferrare case was because Charlie Squad was about to spring an armed ambush on their target and it would be too dangerous for her to be there. Instead, he’d left her with the impression that he was walking away from the case, and so should she. She’d argued that it was career suicide. That it was a disservice to the nation. That the two of them were on the verge of breaking the case wide open, and if he’d just stick with it another day or two, they’d get the wiretap evidence they needed to put away Ferrare. But her pleas had fallen on inexplicably deaf ears.
She’d been outraged. So furious and hurt she’d taken the surveillance van out by herself to listen in on the meeting she knew had to happen any second between Ferrare and the Gavronese rebels who wanted his financial backing in overthrowing their country’s government. And she’d driven smack-dab into the middle of the shoot-out between Ferrare’s men—led by Ruala—and Charlie Squad.
She looked up at the man she’d loved and hated enough to die for that night. His proximity tonight hit her like a high-velocity slug. He’d filled out in all the right places since she’d last seen him, and his cobalt eyes were more breathtaking than ever. His gaze shot right through her, leaving her weak and wanting. She gathered her scattered thoughts and tried to slow her breathing.
And now her life rested again on his answer to her question. Did she dare trust him to be square with her this time? To tell her the true risks of testifying against Ruala? Would he pull his punches with her again?
Mac answered quietly. “We plan to guard you around the clock not only until you testify, but until Ruala’s captured, brought to trial and locked up for good.”
His sapphire gaze bored into hers. Challenging her to believe him. But something else lurked in his intense expression. A promise—to keep her safe this time. An appeal—to give him another chance, to let him make up for Ruala out-maneuvering and outgunning him and nearly killing her. A plea—to trust him.
Could she do that? She’d trusted him once with her heart and he’d destroyed it. Could she trust Mac Conlon with her life this time around? She sighed in resignation. What choice did she have? “So what do we do first?”
All the men at the table exhaled in relief.
Mac answered briskly. “The first order of business is to get you out of here and tuck you away somewhere safe until you can testify. The next order of business is to bring in a female operative and set her up to look like you. Then we find and arrest Ruala.”
She lifted a skeptical brow. “No offense, but he’s no dummy. He knows exactly what I look like. And he’s managed to avoid you guys for ten years. What’s so different now?”
Waves of frustration rolled off of Mac’s broad shoulders, and he stared at her in tense silence. Uh-huh, just what she thought. No answer to that one.
She leaned forward. “I’ll tell you what’s different. You’ve got something Ruala will risk walking into your trap to nail, even if he knows there’s a trap waiting for him.”
Mac’s dark brows drew together in a heavy frown. He saw where she was going with this, and he didn’t like it. Tough. She was going there whether he liked it or not. “And what might this irresistible bait be?” he asked ominously.
“Me. The real me. Not some ringer.”
Mac all but threw himself backward in his chair. “No way. Not a chance!” he declared forcefully.
“Look, Mac,” she argued. “I’ll admit I’m scared to death. But I’ll be scared until this guy’s put away, whether I’m sitting in a bunker staring at the walls or I’m out here helping you catch him. If you don’t use me for bait, it could take you guys months or even years to track down Ruala. He’ll head for the nearest plastic surgeon, completely change his appearance, invent a new life for himself on the other side of the world and you’ll be back to square one. You don’t have any choice but to use me to draw him out. Besides, this is my life we’re talking about, here. If I can help with this mission, I want to do it. I’d rather take action against Ruala than sit back and wait for him to take action against me.”
Mac glared at her. Nope, he didn’t like the idea of using her as bait at all. Problem was, she was right and he knew it.
She stated matter of factly, “You know you need me. And I promise I won’t get in the way.”
“That’s what you said the last time,” he bit out.
She stared him down. “I didn’t have all the facts when I got in that van and drove it into the middle of your op.”
He exhaled in frustration. “I’m not here to dredge up old arguments. I’m here to save your life, dammit.”
“That’s right. My life. I’d say that gives me the right to participate in saving it.”
“Things have changed, Suzie. You’ve changed. This op will be much more…physical than the last time.”
She said aloud the words he left unspoken. “And I’m a cripple now.”
She blinked at the irritated, narrow-eyed look that comment earned her. His demeanor had a harder edge than she remembered. Like he’d seen a lot of the world since they’d last met.
“Crippled or not,” he replied with thin patience, “it would be extremely dangerous for you to help us apprehend Ruala.”
“Dangerous to whom?” she challenged. “To me or to you?”
His gaze snapped to hers. “I’m not trying to avoid being with you,” he ground out. “I’m trying to do the right thing, here.”
“Good,” she snapped back. “Then stop being an ass and agree that you need my help to bring Ruala in.”
He reached up with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. She recognized the gesture. A sure sign he was hanging on to his temper by a thread.
“Are you willing to bet your life on this op?” he challenged.
She never could refuse a dare. “Of course I am. Besides, my life is already on the line.”
He stared hard at her, measuring the truth of her words. She stared back, throwing down a silent dare of her own. She swore she saw the tiniest moment of pride in her flash through his eyes. Eventually, reluctantly, he nodded. His gaze slid away. “All right. Fine. We use you as bait to land Ruala.”
Chapter 4
M ac woke up to a throbbing pain in his left eye, but not enough to explain his sudden lurch to consciousness. He listened intently. The night was thick and dark and silent around him. But then he heard a thump downstairs and Susan’s melodic voice yelping in pain.
Surely Ruala wasn’t back…
Not this soon…
But it could be…
Sh— He grabbed the pistol from under his pillow, leaped out of bed and tore down the stairs. He stormed into the kitchen in a running crouch, the pistol held low and ready in front of him.
One target. Civilian female. Quick scan. No other targets.
He straightened slowly, his heart pounding like a jack-hammer. He tucked the gun into the waistband of the gym shorts he’d worn to bed as a concession to being a guest in Susan’s house. He scowled as she hopped around on her right foot, simultaneously holding her left foot and glaring at one of the long, heavy benches that lined the enormous kitchen table.
“Are you all right?” he asked curtly.
Her glare shifted its aim to him. “I’ll live,” she answered from between gritted teeth.
He leaned against the edge of the kitchen table, glaring back at her. “Geez, Suz, I thought Ruala was in the house. Don’t yell like that around guys trained like we are. You’re liable to get yourself shot.” Damn. His heart was beating a mile a minute.
He continued, “If you’re going to help us, you can’t pull any more stunts like this. We’re in full-blown commando mode on this op.”
She observed dryly, “Yes, I recall that aspect of working with you guys. No sudden moves, hands in plain sight at all times, no sneaking up quietly behind one of you.”
“You forgot the one about following all orders we give you,” he added.
“I didn’t forget it,” she said lightly.
He gave her a narrow look. Her tone of voice definitely promised rebellion. He stepped closer, invading her personal space and intentionally looming over her. “We’re about to step on the toes of one of the most sadistic bastards ever deposited on this planet. You’ll do what I say, when I say it, no questions asked.”
“Or else what?” she challenged.
He shrugged. “Or else you’ll die.” God, it was hard to say that and sound casual about it.
That shut her up. He rarely resorted to such scare tactics, but she needed to be set back on her heels. It was all well and good for her to bully her way into this op, but it was another thing altogether for her to actually function as part of the team. Intimidating her wouldn’t help her opinion of him as a human being much, but it wasn’t as if her opinion of him could go a lot lower.
“Let me have a look at your toes,” he said to distract her. “I have a little first-aid training.”
Silently she sat down and held out her foot. She must really be in pain because she offered it to him without protesting, and she had a contrary streak almost as wide as his.
He knelt down and reached for her foot. Shock slammed into him as he got a good look at her mangled knee for the first time. Missing was the smooth bump of a kneecap. In its place was a puckered scar as wide as his finger, extending the entire length of the front of the joint. Acid burned in his gut at the sight of what Ruala’s bullet had done to her. He’d kill the bastard someday. But in the meantime, he had a hard question to ask.
