Midnight Escape (Agents of HIS Romantic Suspense Series Book 2)

by Sheila Kell

  “Another hour and you can go. I’ll finish it from memory or have you come up for a short while.” She had remembered every feature of his strikingly handsome face, whiskey-colored eyes, dirty-blond hair, and strong, sculpted physique. She could’ve painted the entire portrait without him sitting for her. Having him with her had been fun, though. Including his lack of discipline in sitting still.

  “You really like this? Sitting for hours, painting?”

  It was her life, but how to explain that? Non-artists didn’t understand the need to hold the pencil or brush and create something using every emotion the artist carried. Each piece was an extension of her creative mind. “I love it. I can’t imagine not holding a paintbrush in my hand.”

  “Better you than me. I couldn’t stand doing the same thing for hours at a time.”

  She stopped herself, before adding a brush stroke to canvas. “Don’t you sit for long periods of time when you’re out there doing your protection thing?” Because of her earwigging—she reminded herself it was eavesdropping in America—she’d heard some of their stories, and she thought they’d discussed sitting and waiting for hours at a time.

  He rubbed his jaw and she wanted to swat at him to be still but said nothing. He’d been pretty good most of the day—when he did sit still—so she’d give him that one without saying anything. Throughout the day, she’d said plenty. “Yeah, I guess so. Sure,” he sounded more confident in his answer, “we do sit and wait a lot.” He laughed. “It’s not the same, yet it is. I’m no artist, but I get doing what you love, no matter the time commitment.”

  “How did you come to work for HIS?”

  He shifted a bit and smiled. The smile she wished he’d worn for the portrait. His mother would’ve loved it. “Easy. I met Brad Hamilton in a bar. We were each drinking in solitude, commiserating about women.” His grin turned shy, and she could’ve sworn he blushed. “He got into an argument with someone and it led to a fistfight.” He looked at her, before shaking his head. “He didn’t provoke it. The men came after him.”

  “Men?” Really, the men in HIS didn’t seem to do things halfway.

  Danny chuckled. “Yeah, three of them. Now, being my new drinking buddy and all, plus I’d had a few beers, I jumped in to help him. After that, we met up at the bar a few times, and he asked me all kinds of questions about myself and my career. Then one day, he invited me for an interview with HIS. The rest is history.”

  It was Moira’s turn to chuckle. “That’s a unique way into a job. I can’t imagine many consider getting into a bar fight a quality behavior they’d choose.”

  With a shrug, he said, “No big deal. They unfairly targeted him anyway.”

  “And you just had to jump in?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Moira rolled her eyes. Men. She’d never understand their logic.

  “Are we done for the day?”

  She distinctly remembered telling him another hour, but she caved. Truth was, she also needed a break. “Okay, for today. Tomorrow you owe me an hour.”

  With lightning speed, he jumped from the chair and approached her.

  “Oh, nay,” she said. “You can’t see the artwork in progress.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not after it. I’m after the artist.”

  “Give me a few minutes to clean out my brushes. Then I’m all yours.”

  Leaning over but using a hand to shield his eyes from seeing her work, he kissed her gently and lightly. “I’ll be down in the kitchen getting supper together.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’ll do a stir-fry with plenty for the team. They could use some vegetables. Or so my boss’s wife tells me.” This time he rolled his eyes.

  “I’ve never cooked stir-fry. I’ll be glad to learn.”

  “It’s easy.” He glanced at his watch. “But lots of vegetables to cut so let me get moving.”

  He kissed her once more before departing.

  She sighed with contentment. Her world rocked. Playing house with Danny was more fun than she’d ever imagined such a position would be like. Would she ever find something like this when she returned home? Being comfortable around each other? Feeling cherished by another? Treated as precious cargo yet with faith in her strength? Feeling loved?

  Nay, scratch the last one, but feeling close to it. And that almost sent her into a panic attack. What if he fell in love with her? She was moving back across the ocean. That was a bit too far for a long-distance relationship.

  Slowly, she brought her erratic breathing under control. The whole mess would be wrapped up shortly and Danny wasn’t in love with her. And she wasn’t in love with him. Liar, a little voice said.

  Moira shook her head and rinsed out her brushes. Sometime later, she ventured downstairs to Danny watching TV from the kitchen with a large knife in his hand, half-raised, ready to chop something. He probably was, but the frozen stance made her giggle.

  “What do I need to do?”

  He turned and smiled. Placing the knife on a cutting board loaded with broccoli, he said, “You can cut the zucchini. Here.” He placed a cutting board in front of her then handed her the vegetables and knife. “Cut it like this.”

  She didn’t let on that she knew how to julienne a vegetable. It was more fun watching him show her. Since she knew how to cut, she watched the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles in his arm as he moved. The man had a fabulous body.

  “Got it?” He stepped back and placed the knife on the cutting board.

  Nodding, she added, “Aw, sure look it.”

  He shook his head at her Irish slang. He wasn’t sure what that phrase meant, so he just smiled. “Good.” He returned to his spot on the opposite counter—their backs to each other. Pity. She’d appreciate ogling her man-candy.

  After vigorous chopping of a mountain of vegetables, Danny confused her for a moment when he asked, “Are you sure?”

  It took her a moment to remember he also spoke to the team through his earpiece. She thought she’d mastered holding two conversations at once. That was until she met Danny. He could manage three. One in front of him, one on the phone, and one in his ear.

  “We have company.” He didn’t sound happy. After answering the door, he returned with her brother.

  “Declan.” She rushed up and hugged her brother. Her heart felt so full with him here. She looked behind him. “Where’s Diana?”

  “She’s safe in Boston.”

  Confused, she asked, “Then what are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but Diana?”

  “I’m here for you.”

  Her happiness plummeted. She had no idea if he meant to go to Boston with him or if it was finally safe to go home. While she planned to one day go back to Ireland, she hadn’t planned on leaving Danny, just yet.

  In her ear, Declan whispered, “There’s plenty I need to say to you. Privately. We’ll speak after everyone goes to bed.”

  Unnerved by his request, she said the only thing she dared. “Okay.” The beautiful world she’d enjoyed earlier began to crumble, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  After a loud, fun dinner with the team, Danny, Declan, and Moira sat down to chat. Worried about what her brother wanted to speak privately with her about, Moira allowed the two men to speak about her like she wasn’t present. It didn’t matter. Tonight had sealed how close she and Danny were. Yet Declan wasn’t happy—if his facial expressions and tension were any indicators. And why was he being so secretive? It set her on edge.

  “Boyle has learned where Moira is, so I’m taking her out of here.” Declan waved his hand to stave off any argument. “I know you do a great job, but if she’s not here when he comes, she’s safe.”

  “He’ll find her and then you and Diana. Remember your banking records. It’s just a matter
of time.”

  “I’ve hired a security team, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Danny looked around. “Where’s this team?”

  Her brother looked pained. Or something similar. “They’re with Diana. Just driving back and forth isn’t a problem.”

  Based upon Danny’s stupefied expression, he didn’t agree. “What about the others who were in the room whose conversation she overheard? That’s got to be trouble just waiting to happen.”

  “I have it on good authority no one suspects a thing.”

  “Just who is this good authority?”

  Declan seemed reluctant to say, but she wanted to know also—especially if her safety was being put into jeopardy.

  “It’s Quinn Murphy, assistant to the Minister. If Donnelly knew anything, Quinn would’ve known.”

  Moira watched her brother and Danny go at it as if they were on different sides of her safety. If HIS hadn’t been doing the job pro bono, she’d think he was just trying to hang onto business. She hated to leave the safety she knew, but what her brother said made sense. HIS would take out Boyle when he showed up here looking for her. Best if she wasn’t even near the place when that happened. Less chance of getting caught up in it if the mission went— What did Cowboy call it? Right, FUBAR. She wanted to giggle at the story he’d told in which he’d used the word, but the conversation at hand was too serious and important.

  With Quinn confirming everything, her churning gut was put at ease. Cassie’s fiancé would know what happened in that office. Heck, he all but ran the minister in thought and process.

  Once HIS took care of Boyle—and she had no doubt they would—and since no one suspected her of earwigging, she was free to resume her life in Ireland. Somehow that didn’t excite her like it once had.

  If Danny asked her to stay, would she? She dug deep into her heart and soul for the answer because staying with him wasn’t like staying the night with a guy back home. It’d be serious. And the more serious it became—and it probably would—the less likely she was to see her homeland again. To have drinks with her best friend. To stroll the streets with memories of her parents.

  Well, thank goodness she didn’t have to make the choice. He hadn’t asked, and surely, he wouldn’t ask now. They’d just say goodbye, like adults who had a relationship that had run its course. Only theirs hadn’t run its course. Heat still flowed between them.

  “Moira?” Declan asked.

  As she refocused her attention on the men, she noticed they were staring at her. “What?”

  “I called you three times.”

  “Oh.” Oops. “What’s wrong?”

  “Danny says you have to choose to leave with me. He’s wrong, but tell him you’re coming with me, and once they take care of Boyle, you’re going home.”

  Home. It warmed her heart to think of it. But to choose? Normally, she liked being in charge of her destiny, but in this case, she didn’t mind Declan making the decision. Yet they were going to force her to voice it.

  She looked at Declan then Danny. The latter looked angry and wounded. She didn’t want to leave what they had, but she couldn’t stay, not when he hadn’t asked her to. Well, he was asking her, but he was asking her for her safety, not for a relationship.

  She just went with what Declan expected. Her brother’s feelings, she knew. Danny’s, it was too late to discuss them. “What Declan says makes sense. Boyle will come here. I’d rather be far away when he does. You’ll take care of him and we’ll all be safe.”

  “Moira, you’re making a mistake. What if Boyle doesn’t come straight here?”

  She wet her lips to stall while she thought. “Well, Declan’s employed some security. Haven’t you?” she directed at her brother.

  “Yes.”

  The men went back and forth on the topic a bit more, then moved on to others. Declan was now into American sports and the animosity seemed to ease. After a couple hours, she became tired. When the two men didn’t seem to want to break up their chatter anytime soon, she slipped off to bed. Her bed. For two reasons. One, because Declan wanted to speak with her. Two, because she was chicken and didn’t want to say goodbye to Danny.

  It wasn’t long before her brother visited her. He slipped in her room and closed the door behind him.

  “We have to leave now,” he whispered.

  “What? Why?” That made no sense. They were leaving tomorrow.

  “My contact says Danny is working with Justin who’s still working with Boyle.”

  She shook her head. “Nay, Justin isn’t working with Boyle any longer. The man wants him dead.”

  “It was all a ruse to get Danny’s help. They’re just keeping you safe until Boyle can get here, without being stopped by US authorities. And he’s on his way.”

  The other made no sense. Danny and Justin were good people. They’d never sell her out. Something wasn’t right. “How do you know this?”

  “I told you. Quinn. He knows everything that happens, and Boyle is so far up Donnelly’s ass, he knows even more. Like that your call to Cassie was traced. Not that they really needed to locate you since Danny was sitting on you.”

  Traced? Shocked, she shook her head. This couldn’t be. Danny, whose hands had touched her everywhere with loving tenderness, could not be holding her for Boyle. Nay. That had to be wrong.

  Again, she shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

  “Boyle still wants me, and I never told Danny where Diana and I were staying. They planned to use you to get to me. Has Danny or Justin asked about me?”

  Her back stiffened. They had. Casually. Including if she’d received Declan’s address. This couldn’t be right. Danny couldn’t do this to her after loving her so gently. Had it all been an act?

  “Just pack an overnight bag. Quinn has a place for us to stay along the route. He’s driving Diana up to meet us. Like I said, we’re moving. Too many people know Diana was in the hospital.”

  “Wait, Quinn’s here?”

  “I called him to check on things. I didn’t like there never being any information. That’s when I began to think something had happened. You were fine with just Danny. Then Justin showed up and things began to change.” He waved a hand. “Pack and be quiet.”

  She didn’t pay attention to what she tossed in the small bag. As she zipped it closed, she hoped she’d grabbed clean knickers.

  They exited through the back door and were swiftly met by Cowboy who was speaking, but not to them. Another communication thing, which meant Danny knew they were leaving.

  “Look,” Declan said, “we’re leaving. Now, get out of the way.”

  Moira didn’t like him being rude to someone she called a friend, albeit loosely, since Danny wouldn’t let Cowboy hang out around her much. If at all.

  “No” was all he said in response. When he looked behind them, Moira hesitated to turn. She knew who’d be there and how angry he’d be for them slipping out. But he’d agreed she could leave. Now that she thought about it, he never had. He just stopped arguing after she’d agreed to leave with Declan.

  “Going somewhere?” Danny asked. She looked over at him. He stood wearing a pair of sweatpants and a much-worn T-shirt. At least he wasn’t carrying his weapon. She took that as a plus.

  “We’re leaving,” Declan told Danny.

  “Now? Christ, you drove eight hours to get here and now you want to turn around and drive eight more? That’s dangerous.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but we need to leave as soon as possible.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  Moira volleyed back and forth between the two men. This seemed deeper than them leaving. However, if Danny was truly in with Justin and Boyle, then he wouldn’t want her to leave. Not even a few hours earlier than agreed upon. Suddenly, she felt the need to leave. She didn’t know whether she could trust Danny or not, but
she didn’t want to risk it.

  “I’m helping him drive,” she piped up to keep Declan from outright accusing Danny of being in league with Boyle.

  Danny looked at her. “Your license isn’t even valid.”

  “I’ll chance it.” She hoped it never came to that.

  “I still think you should get a good night’s sleep before you depart.”

  “Like Declan said, we’re gonna head on.” Her heart was ripping apart now that the break was actually happening. She had no idea it would hurt so much to leave him.

  His gaze searched hers with an intensity that made her want to crawl all over him to get as close as she could. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” His eyes never left hers when he spoke. Hurt flared in them, but what else could she do? Boyle was on his way. Whether Danny helped Justin or not.

  This was not how she’d envisioned them saying goodbye. She’d expected lots of time in bed exploring each other’s bodies to remember every fine detail, like the scar on his ribs from a knife, or the fine hairs on his chest. Good grief, this sucked. “I guess it is.” She hoped the sorrow she felt was there for him to read.

  After a few more terse words between Danny and Declan, she and her brother were on their way. It hurt her that at no time since Declan arrived with his news had Danny asked to speak with her. To ensure she didn’t want to stay. To ensure she was okay with the discussion. To ensure they had a proper goodbye.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. She wanted to go home. Whether she left Danny’s or not, she’d be going home soon anyway. She may as well get used to the idea that she’d never see Danny again.

  Moira dozed as her brother drove from Baltimore to wherever he planned to stop for the night. When she woke to his slowing, she noticed on her watch that she’d slept for nearly three hours. So much for helping Declan drive.

  She frowned at the cabinlike structure they’d pulled up to. Maybe it was one of those Airbnb places. It was plenty isolated. She saw clear land and woods surrounding it. It would be a great place to hide out until Boyle was apprehended.