Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12)

by Irish Winters

  “’Cause I’m just getting started if you want more.” He lowered his voice and teased at the curl of her ear. The physics were simple. He outweighed her. He’d practiced and delivered hand-to-hand combat during his military career. There was no way could she win this wrestling match. “Tonight has been kind of fun,” he whispered closer. Lower. More intimately.

  “Shut up and let me go!” she screamed, and the mighty Tess Culver’s mean-girl façade slipped, revealing a truly frightened woman for the first time. Her heart hammered hard and fast through her body. She was shaking. Gasping for air. The game had taken on a different tone. What had begun as a physical contest between enemy combatants suddenly felt more like—assault.

  Damn it. Not what he’d intended. Not at all. Lee backed off, his throat tight and dry. He was no predator, but in the power struggle, he had crossed the line. He was bigger. He did outweigh her, but no woman, not even rough-and-tumble Miss Culver needed to fear him. “Things got out of hand,” he said earnestly. “I’m sorry.”

  She lay still, panting into the seat, her hair spilled over her head. “Wh-what?”

  “I said I’m sorry.” He needed her to know she might be caught, but she’d never been in safer hands. Reaching to his belt, he brought his cuffs forward and carefully secured her left wrist.

  “What? You can’t!” She wriggled, but immediately stilled. A scared little girl looked sideways at him from under shiny, dark tangles, her eyes too big for her face. She bit her lower lip. A tremble raced up her left arm. “Please. D-d-don’t.”

  Her breath hitched, and he had to look twice at the mixed signals rolling off this woman. Was she scared or not? Baiting him? If this was an act, it was a really good one. He almost fell for it until her thigh muscles bunched, and she shifted her position just enough to get on her knees in a hurry. No doubt about it, scared or not, Tess meant to win this contest. With one knee still between her legs, he pushed away, shifting back to his seat. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

  She scrambled to her butt, the bag once again tight in her grip, the I’m-so-scared routine gone. “You can’t have it.”

  “I don’t want it.” Left-handed, he pushed the stick shift into park and turned the truck off. Disgusted with himself at his less-than-professional handling of his client, Lee opened his door and tugged her across the bench seat to exit with him.

  “Let me go,” she growled, clutching the gearshift and then the steering wheel as he pulled her slowly toward him. He didn’t want to disrespect her any more than he needed to, but damn, this was up close and personal work. He kept brushing over the breasts, thighs, and ass of a seriously gorgeous gal who could still hurt him. She needed to settle down. As if to prove his point, she twisted away from him the second her boots hit the dirt, her ass firmly planted on his thigh while she held the bag away from him.

  “Knock it off.” He slammed the door, spun her around, and cuffed her wrists behind her back. “You won’t be needing this,” he said as he removed the bag from her grasping fingers.

  The bucking, kicking, temper tantrum began all over again. He ended it just as quickly. A person had no choice but to comply once their cuffed arms were forced upward. That previously dislocated shoulder still had to hurt. He continued the pressure to keep her arms straight and her sexy body a sufficient distance from his. “Why do you keep it up? You’re just making this more difficult. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then let me go,” she demanded over her shoulder, the one he hadn’t popped out of its socket. Not fair. Two frightened dark eyes brimmed with her plea. She batted her extra-long, incredibly thick lashes. Oldest trick in the book. God, this woman knew all the moves.

  He looked away and slammed the truck door behind them, her in one hand, the bag in his other. “This way.”

  Up the five steps to the warehouse dock they went, his prisoner leading the way because that was where he steered her to go. The end of the line waited inside, and he needed to get her delivered before she gave him another one of those looks.

  The notion nagged that maybe this gal really was afraid of being cuffed and restrained. That lack of detail in his intel bothered him, especially since he’d been the one who collected most of it. He’d been restrained before, chained like a dog. He’d fight it if it ever happened to him again, no holds barred. Lee looked at Tess with different eyes, a glimmer of empathy seeping through his tough-guy routine.

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “I’m not keeping this treasure, and I won’t sell it either. You have to give it back. It’s not what you think.”

  “It never is.” Like he hadn’t heard that before. Every thief in the whole world said that, especially the ones with big blue eyes.

  “No. Really.”

  She seemed intent on explaining, so he halted in his tracks. He gave her his most stern look, evil eye and all. “What is it you think you need to say that I don’t want to hear?”

  “I’m not getting rich off this stuff. It’s not like you think. It’s—”

  “Yeah, right.” What a waste of time. He’d almost believed she’d come up with something more inventive, as smart as she seemed to be.

  She tried another tactic, her sharp eyes still on the bag. “Where’s my brother? What’d you do to him?”

  “You mean the guy who was supposed to catch you when you fell tonight? Clint? That his name?”

  “Yeah. Him.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s safe. Now move.”

  She balked. He lifted her cuffs an inch or so, just enough to help her remember who was in charge.

  “Stop doing that!” One more time, she let a boot fly in his direction.

  He was fed up with the drama. Forcing her sideways through the warehouse door, he made his way to the inner office door where the only light in the whole warehouse gleamed. This was where it all ended or began, depending on which way she wanted the night to play out. So far, Miss Culver been lucky, but even the best cat burglar fell off the ledge eventually. If she was smart, it was her turn to take that fall and do it willingly.

  He swung the office door open and waited for her to enter. She blinked as the bright light spilled onto the dusty concrete floor, and he didn’t mind that she took a minute to get her bearings. This place always creeped him out. It was a distribution warehouse by day, but a good place to conduct covert business at night. His boss rented it on an as-needed basis when he came to town. Too gloomy for Lee, it was also reminiscent of another dark place with men in baggy pajamas and shaggy beards who were cruel for cruelty’s sake. Those days were long behind him. Only the memory lingered. And the scars...

  He nodded her into the room. “Go on. It’s safe. No one will hurt you.”

  “You already have,” she murmured, her eyes hooded and scared.

  About time—if it wasn’t just another act. Miss Culver should be scared, at least enough to listen for a change. She’d racked up enough lethal enemies during her time in Afghanistan, especially with her daring raids on the Taliban. She trembled, but by then, he’d already been duped ten ways of Sunday. He wasn’t falling for that feminine ruse, either. That was the problem with a person as devious and as underhanded as this gal. A man never knew when or if he was seeing the real deal. He doubted he’d see it yet.

  A chair scraped across the wooden floor in the office, but no one had made himself known yet. Lee let Tess have time to stew. The man inside that room knew all the tricks to breaking a person down. Waiting was sometimes the most effective tool in the war chest.

  The lack of sound from the rest of the warehouse made the moment stretch out. He nudged her elbow forward. Come on, Culver. Take the hint. Move it. I’m tired. Either you’re in or you’re out.

  She elbowed back, defiance a-plenty. Sucking in a breath, she made her move, and he avoided yet another kick, this one aimed at his crotch. The tip of her boot hit his thigh instead, and impatience got the best of him. Damn, this girl just didn’t quit! He placed a palm to the middle of her bac
k and shoved her through the door.

  The guy waiting patiently inside turned from behind the wooden desk. “It’s about time.”

  “Evening, Alex. Sorry I’m late. You know how she is.”

  “Miss Culver?” Alex rose to his feet in perfunctory politeness as he deliberately scanned her from head to foot, sharp appraisal in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “What’s it to you?” She tossed her hair out of her face, still all piss and vinegar. “Who are you guys?”

  Lee stepped back, his arms crossed and the bag still secure in his grip. Tess Culver was a looker from a distance, but up close? Lush red lips. Full breasts, definitely more than a handful. Curvy hips, her waist tucked in small and feminine. Daintily athletic. A little sweaty. Definitely perturbed. She made it difficult for a man to swallow. She might not know it yet, but she’d just met her match and his name was…

  “I’m Alex Stewart.” Alex took his seat. “You’ve already met my trusted agent, Lee Hart. Come in. Join us.”

  “Like I have a choice,” she spat out, her head high and her fear at bay for the moment.

  Alex shot Lee an appraising nod, his brow raised. “Had your hands full?”

  “Not so much,” Lee countered. There was no sense in letting this gal think she was any smarter or tougher than she already thought she was.

  “Who the hell are you? What have you done with my brother?” she demanded, still standing, cuffed, and sassy. If looks could kill, she’d just handed Alex his head on a platter with that chin lift of hers.

  “I already told you I’m Alex Stewart, ma’am; I run a security business stateside, and as for your brother, Clint’s most likely safe in bed with a bottle of booze by now, but that’s not what you’re worried about, is it?” Alex answered smoothly.

  “Your so-called trusted agent…”she glared at Lee with more authority than a woman in her precarious position had a right to, “took something from me and I want it back.”

  “No. What you took tonight belongs to the National Museum, not to you nor to your brother.”

  “So?”

  “So you stole an ancient artifact valued in the millions.”

  “I didn’t steal it. I rescued it, you moron.” She spat more defiance.

  Lee took that for his cue. Stepping away from his volatile friend, he unwrapped the treasure, the Crown of the Dragon Warrior of ancient Afghan legend. Gold-leaf-covered medallions and coins glistened on golden wires around inlays of emeralds and rubies at the base of the crown. Branches over the base supported a pair of solid gold twin dragons and the ancient Dragon Warrior, also solid gold, seated cross-legged between them, his hands pressed together as if in prayer.

  She eyed it greedily, biting her bottom lip as he held the tinkling artifact out to Alex. The ornament was valuable beyond compare; more so since the Taliban thought they’d destroyed it. Their insane decree of 2001preceded the destruction of the two colossal Buddhas in the Bamiyan Province. The Taliban’s rape of their own country’s archeological treasures still amazed the rest of the civilized world, Lee included.

  So who’d had the Crown of the Dragon Warrior all this time? Who’d stolen it from the museum and who needed it transported out of Afghanistan? Tess knew who the real thief was, and that was where Alex came in. He needed to know who wanted her dead besides the Taliban sniper who’d attempted to kill her. The very capable Mohammed Turik had to be working for someone.

  Alex folded his arms over his charcoal gray business suit. The man always looked sharp, and his choice of a dark suit for a late-night op? Priceless. The man was a genius at mind games. “Miss Culver, you’re in no position to demand anything right now, but you are in a position of great opportunity. Are you interested at all in hearing what I have to say?”

  She breathed steadily through her nose as if she had calmed, but Lee knew better. All she was doing was biding her time and gathering strength, playing it cool. The minute he unlocked those cuffs, she’d be gone, the crown, too, if she had her way.

  “Interested in what?” Her chin stuck out like she dared Alex to convince her.

  “Security, for one thing. The Taliban has put a substantial price on your head, and they don’t care if you’re dead or alive when they pay it out. You’ve stolen four artifacts from them, five counting tonight’s theft. They’ve offered a bounty of four million American dollars for your head. That puts you at more risk each time you try a stunt like this.”

  “Is that why you’re here? Because the animals who destroyed the rarest treasures in the world are after me? Ha! They’re the thieves, not me. Why don’t you hunt them down and leave me alone?”

  The girl had spunk.

  “No. I’m here because I have a customer who’s interested in your well-being and nothing more,” Alex countered. “For some reason, he wants you to live a long and happy life. He knew you wouldn’t accept the offer to leave the country or to forget this crusade, so he asked me to convince you. If I can’t, he still wants me to take you back to America. I’d like that not to be under duress, but either way, I’m willing.”

  She blinked one good blink, like his words had finally gotten through that hard head of hers. “Who?” she snapped, still as belligerent as ever.

  Lee sighed. Yes. This would take a while. He shifted to her side again and gently grasped the cuffs while still holding the crown with his other hand. Those pretty violet blues shot daggers up at him.

  “Please.” Alex motioned to the chair closest to the desk. “Sit, Miss Culver. Let’s discuss this like civilized people.”

  “Then let me out of these things first.” She twisted her arms for Lee. “Now.”

  Oh, this woman. He grinned. Did she honestly expect that those cuffs would come off that easy?

  “Let’s talk first,” Alex insisted. His tone brooked no discussion.

  Tess clenched her jaw. Lee tightened his grip. A she-leopard like this one didn’t change her spots so quickly. Just to be safe, he turned sideways to protect his family jewels.

  Reluctantly, she took a step toward Alex.

  Lee’s radar spiked, his hand still at her wrist. Watch out, Boss. This one’s tricky.

  But Alex had already taken his seat, his disinterest obvious. He adjusted his tie, as if he had no clue what she was capable of. Lee almost wished she’d take Alex on. That’d be a contest worth paying good money to see, his once Marine scout sniper boss wrestling with a voluptuous and very naughty cat burglar.

  “Do you mind?” Tess glared up at Lee, jerking her arms away from him and spoiling a perfectly good fantasy. “I can walk by myself.”

  She could also run by herself. He kept his hand shackled to the cuffs.

  “Might as well take a seat, Lee,” Alex offered. “We’ve got what she wants. She’s not going anywhere.”

  Bet me. Right on cue, she scanned the high rafters overhead. This inside office space had no ceiling, just four walls and a door. The warehouse had only two exits—the one they’d entered through and the other at the extreme far end at the loading dock. No way could she make it to either, even if she grabbed her treasure and took off at a sprint. He’d run her down in seconds, and this time, he wouldn’t be so polite about it.

  The more she stared at Alex, the more she pursed those luscious red lips, concentrating. The girl had so many tells, she should never play poker. Plus, she wore lightweight, steel-toed military boots known for their traction and fast-paced maneuvering.

  Lee released her wrist, giving her the chance to bolt or sit. That she finally accepted the chair meant nothing, not with her back erect, her body tilted forward, and her weight on the balls of those work boots. Tess meant to run. No doubt about it.

  “What do you want?” she hissed with barely concealed disgust.

  “To offer you a proposition.” Alex was smooth.

  “I want it back first.”

  Lee handed the Crown of the Dragon Warrior to his boss. Alex accepted it gently and set the golden treasure on the desk where Tess could see it. “W
hat do you intend to do with it?”

  “Why do you care? It doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Agreed. Neither does it belong to you.” Alex waited.

  She glared, and this was where the rubber hit the road. If she’d stolen it for the reason she’d previously declared, she’d be an easy girl to turn. If not...

  Chapter Four

  Her fingers itched. The Crown of the Dragon Warrior lay within inches of her—again. At least it was out of the reach of that liar, Abdul Sherazi, and his despicable buddy, Hasim Nizari. That was what mattered most, but it still wasn’t in her possession like it should’ve been.

  Tess deliberated her options. There were only two of these guys. Hadn’t she just stolen that priceless item from several others who’d thought they were just as smart as this Alex guy? Had those six bumbling guards been smart enough to stop her? No way. They hadn’t even slowed her down. Neither would these two.

  The one called Alex seemed concerned for her well being. Kind of. The other guy? Agent Lee Hart? Not so much. He definitely radiated a predator vibe, one that cranked her feminine instincts to run and hide like a prey animal. A frightened little bunny rabbit. ‘Never!’ her rebel heart declared in no uncertain terms. Tess Culver would not be beaten again.

  He had gotten to her for a second there in the truck, though. Almost reduced her to tears. The guy was built—she had to give him that. Big hands. Massive chest muscles stretched his shirt. Powerful thighs led to long legs. Those same feminine responders that screamed, ‘Run!’ had also picked up his scent during their tussle. Burnt amber with a twist of citrus, possibly orange. Clean, manly sweat. Soap or deodorant, she couldn’t decide which—she only knew she’d enjoyed the contact of this stranger more than she should have. He was one walking, masculine pheromone that nearly took out her common sense. How the hell did that work?

  Yet she had to give him credit. He was big enough. He could’ve easily broken her arm instead of just dislocating her shoulder. That old injury of four years ago had left her with two dislocated limbs she’d since learned to use to her advantage. She rolled her shoulder, testing the remaining tenderness of the one he’d popped out of its socket. Could be better. Could be worse.