Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  “Your friend Nik Steele is my problem.” Luke glared at Deirdre over his shoulder as though daring her to speak. “Are you aware the bastard was hired by my father to prove you a liar? That he’s here to make a fool of you, Mikayla?”

  Mikayla arched her brow. “I’m more than aware of that, Luke.”

  Her admission took the wind out of his sails for a moment. He stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise.

  She had managed to throw him off. He hadn’t expected her to know Nik’s true reason for being here. He’d thought he’d found a way to hurt her. She had always known Luke was mean-spirited, but she hadn’t expected him to be so blatant about it.

  “You’re no better than the rest of us,” he sneered. “He’s nothing but a terrorist wannabe and you’re rolling around in the bed with him, aren’t you? So much for all your high ideals.”

  She stared back at Luke archly. “Why? Because I refused to roll around in the bed with you? Sorry, Luke, maybe I was looking for a man rather than a spoiled little boy. Now get out of my shop before I call Nik and have you thrown out.”

  It was the best threat she could come up with, as well as the most insulting. Or at least, it was as mean as she was willing to get at this point. Luke had problems with his opinion, as well as others’, of his manhood. There was no sense in damaging it worse by throwing him out herself. Besides, she rather liked the pristine look of the pale green summer dress and matching high heels she wore.

  His expression twisted. Something dark and uncertain flashed in his eyes.

  “He’s trouble,” Luke snarled back at her.

  “But it’s my trouble, not yours.”

  “Damn you!” Emotion almost shadowed his eyes. “Damn you, Mikayla.”

  Turning, he stalked from the shop, the door slamming closed behind him.

  “He’s a little boy in a body to die for,” Deirdre said regretfully. “God was playing a hell of a joke on us when he made that man.”

  “He made the body, not the man.” Mikayla shrugged, though she, too, felt an edge of regret and concern. “Luke let himself become what he is.”

  Deirdre stared at Mikayla doubtfully. “With Maddix and Annette Nelson for parents, what choice did he have?”

  Annette anyway. But Mikayla kept the observation silent. Maddix Nelson had tried to raise his son with a few values. Mikayla knew that for a fact. For too many years the Nelsons and the Martins had been friends.

  When Annette and Maddix had split up, Annette had gotten custody of Luke, who had been very young at the time, and proceded to raise him the exact opposite way Maddix would have wanted him raised.

  Annette was a bitch; everyone had known it. She had been tolerated because so many had liked and benefited from Maddix. His son … had not been tolerated nearly as well.

  “I’m heading home.” Mikayla sighed in resignation as she stared back at her still-silent friend. “I’m taking your advice.”

  “It’s about time,” Deirdre informed Mikayla. “Give him hell, sweetheart. He might walk away, but I promise, he’ll never forget you.”

  Just as she wouldn’t forget him. She had a very bad feeling he was going to become the one who got away no matter what she did. Her reaction to him went too deep; her need for him was too strong.

  She could have done without whatever quirk of fate had set Nik in her path. She could have happily lived her life not knowing such pleasure existed.

  No, she amended. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have wanted to miss this, wouldn’t have wanted to exist in a state of ignorance. She knew now why no relationship she’d had so far had worked. Because that kind of incredible pleasure had been missing.

  And now it was walking right out of her life before she’d ever known what it was supposed to be.

  Nik watched from behind the sheer curtains of the window looking out to the front of the house as Mikayla’s Jeep pulled into the drive next door.

  She was dressed as pristinely as ever, he noticed as she walked to her front door. That beautiful long wheat gold hair was done expertly in a French braid that fell down her back, only her bangs left uncontained. The soft summer sleeveless blouse she wore in a soft cream complemented the mint green above-the-knees skirt and cream-colored heels she wore. Her purse was the same mint green as her skirt.

  Damn woman was always color coordinated and perfectly put together. She gave the impression that there wasn’t a damned thing in hell that could ruffle her perfectly layered feathers.

  Until he got her aroused.

  She burned in a man’s arms then.

  Or rather, she burned in his arms.

  “Nelson’s son came to her shop before she left,” Eleanor Longstrom, the owner of the antique store across the street from Mikayla’s, stated behind him.

  Eleanor had no idea who or what Nik was a part of, despite her former classified position with the CIA before her retirement ten years ago.

  All Eleanor knew was that she had been “asked” to cooperate with Travis Caine and Nik Steele when they had been in town several weeks before. Nik had pulled her in for intel this time as well, knowing one set of eyes wouldn’t be nearly enough.

  It was the reason she had arrived this evening, to deliver information, unaware that he was leaving and that, as far as he was concerned, this job was completed.

  “Do you know why he was there?” Nik asked as he glanced over his shoulder at the spritely grandmotherly woman who watched him with a knowing smile.

  “He was rather angry, I heard,” she stated. “I stepped in and spoke to Deirdre when Mikayla left. Luke was very insulting. He seemed to believe Mikayla was lowering herself to sleep with you.”

  Why did he want to know this? And why was he listening?

  Nik grunted at the thought. “She just arrived home,” he mused. “Where did she go after she left the shop?”

  “She stopped by her father’s office for a while,” Eleanor reported. “Her mother was there. Mikayla and her parents are very close. Any man Mikayla falls in love with, or begins seeing seriously, will have to become close with her family.”

  Another reason to leave, Nik thought. He wasn’t a family man—at least he wasn’t anymore. He was a loner now. Mikayla didn’t need a man who had sworn to never put down roots again.

  “This isn’t my business,” he told Eleanor. “I’m leaving.”

  “And that’s a shame.” Eleanor sighed. “She needs you right now. If for no other reason than to figure out what is going on.”

  “She’s in a hell of a mess,” Nik stated as he stepped back from the window. “No one believes Maddix killed his foreman. Hell, even I don’t believe it was Maddix she saw. But I don’t believe she was lying. There are no leads, no suspects. It’s a dead end.”

  “Mikayla’s not a liar.” Eleanor shrugged her graceful shoulders as she watched Nik with thoughtful blue eyes. “I used to babysit her father, and I’ve known Mikayla all her life. She’s not as wild as her brothers and they’re all basically honest, but Mikayla holds herself to a higher standard. She always has. She’s a good girl, Nik, and she’s in trouble.”

  “Is that a warning, Mrs. Longstrom?” He arched his brow at the disapproving look on her face.

  Her lips tightened.

  “On second thought, I think it’s a good thing for Mikayla that you’re leaving,” Eleanor said somberly. “She doesn’t deserve a broken heart along with the rest of the trouble she’s had to deal with.”

  No, she didn’t. And Nik didn’t need to add to the regrets in his life, either.

  “Do you have any further information?” Nik asked, making certain his tone indicated that their meeting was over.

  “There’s nothing more to report, Nik.” She shook her head, the short cut of her gray hair brushing against the nape of her neck. “But as I told you when you arrived, Maddix was definitely in that meeting when Eddie Foreman was killed. It was an impromptu meeting that arose when the council members learned property they had been trying to buy for a city project
was coming up for sale. It was actually arranged within hours of the actual meeting. Maddix has several neighbors who witnessed their arrival as well as the fact that Maddix answered the door himself when each arrived.”

  There had to be something he was missing, Nik thought. He’d investigated this as far as he could go. His job was to find out why Mikayla would lie about what she had seen. He couldn’t give an answer, because she was certain she had seen Maddix.

  It was unfortunate that Nik hadn’t been able to resolve the problem and whoever had killed Eddie Foreman had gotten away with it.

  “I’m leaving now,” Eleanor announced. “If you need anything else, then you only have to let me know. It’s unfortunate you can’t stick around and figure out who murdered Eddie. He wasn’t always a nice person, but he didn’t deserve to be murdered.”

  “I have other things to do,” Nik told her.

  Eleanor nodded as she headed for the back door. “That’s a good thing for Mikayla’s heart, a bad thing for the situation itself. I have a feeling, though, if you don’t leave you’ll only end up hurting her.”

  Or himself.

  Nik watched as Eleanor left the house before he turned back to the window to stare into the soft light of early evening.

  He was packed and ready to roll out, though he hadn’t figured out why he hadn’t left yet.

  There was a part of him that loathed walking out the door, nothing in hand but the leather bag he had arrived with. There was something he was leaving behind, but he was damned if he could figure out what the hell it was.

  Shaking his head at the thought, Nik went through the house, secured it, then picked up the leather bag that held several changes of clothing as well as the weapons he had brought with him.

  He had to force himself out the front door. Hell, walking away had always been easy, especially since his “death.” He hadn’t known it possible to possess a hunger for a woman the way he did for one tender, sweet little virgin at the moment.

  He stepped outside, pausing on the porch to stare into the slowly dimming light of a summer evening. Rain was coming. He could feel it in the air, almost taste it against his tongue.

  The scent of it reminded him of Mikayla.

  He shook his head, trying to shake the regret growing inside him away as he strode to the driveway and the motorcycle parked there.

  “Nik.”

  She stepped from behind the Jeep and moved to the strip of grass dividing the driveways, moving to stand beneath the heavy oak tree growing there.

  Fairy princess. That was what she was. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head. So damned petite and innocent, still believing, somehow, in the good of the world. He could have told her, would have told her, there was so very little good left.

  “You should have stayed in the house, Mikayla.” He secured the leather bag in the metal saddlebag on the side of the cycle.

  “I shouldn’t say goodbye?” There was the faintest edge of hurt in her voice now; it matched the hurt he had glimpsed in her amethyst eyes, in her pale face.

  “ ‘Goodbye’ is for friends,” he pointed out to her as he straightened and stared back at her. “Are we friends, Mikayla?”

  It was a challenge and he knew it. She was still angry. That spark of ire still lingered in her gaze, in the tightly controlled curve of her lips.

  “Why are you here?” As he moved around the back of the cycle, he knew lingering here was a mistake.

  He should leave now, before he was drawn in any further. Before he completely fucked the fragile peace he’d found after all these years.

  “I say goodbye.” Her fingers were laced together in front of her, her shoulders straight. The heels she wore barely got her to the middle of his chest. He wanted to protect her, he realized. He wanted to wrap her up, protect her from the world, and keep all that innocence and fire for himself alone.

  He should be locked up for even desiring such a thing, because he knew how fragile that illusion could be.

  “I told you, you say goodbye to a friend,” he growled.

  “Or someone you wished could have been a friend,” she mused softly before pulling at her lower lip with her teeth and nibbling at it nervously for a second. “I won’t forget you, Nik.”

  His stomach clenched; his cock, hard since the moment he laid eyes on her, tried to thicken further. Hell, he’d never been so hard in his life.

  “You should.” Anger was slipping through the tight leash he fought to keep on it. “You should forget me the moment I ride out of here, Mikayla. Or do you like it when men lie to you? When they hurt you?”

  She flinched, her lips thinning. “Maybe that’s why I’m saying goodbye, Nik,” she suggested then. “Maybe I’m scared if I just watch you ride away, then I really won’t be able to forget you.”

  That made more sense, but it wasn’t going to work. He could tell her himself that there were points in a person’s life that couldn’t be forgotten. For them, what they hadn’t had would always haunt them. It couldn’t be helped.

  Nik shook his head. “What the fuck do you want from me, Mikayla?” He sighed. “I told you the truth. You should have your brothers standing here rather than standing here yourself.”

  “And what would they do?” she asked bitterly. “If they tried to fight you, you’d decimate them. If they got lucky and hurt you, I’d never forget it. It’s a no-win situation, isn’t it, Nik?”

  For a second, tears glittered in her eyes before she blinked them back. She turned her gaze from him for a second, then returned it with renewed strength.

  She had to be one of the strongest women he had ever laid eyes on. Damn her. She made him remember the dreams he was ordered to throw away so long ago. That dream of finding peace amid war, safety in a world where safety was a liability rather than an ethereal dream.

  “It’s a no-win situation,” he finally agreed. “What you do with it is what makes the difference, baby. When I’m gone, just forget. Otherwise, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

  He knew inside he had begun the painful process though, watching the hurt that was building in her eyes. A hurt he wanted nothing more than to heal before he did exactly as she had told him to do. He was riding out of town, moving right out of her life. Unlike her, he wouldn’t have his anger to hold onto. She’d done nothing to deserve his anger, therefore there was no shield between his hunger and her memory.

  Her tongue slid over her lips again, tempting him to taste, to lose himself to the hunger rather than running away from it.

  “Deirdre was wrong,” she finally whispered as he forced himself to keep a distance between them.

  “About what?” Fists clenched at his sides, his entire body so tight he wondered why he hadn’t cracked.

  “Saying goodbye won’t help me forget. A woman doesn’t forget her first hunger. Ever.”

  He moved to her. Just in time.

  As he reached her there was a flash of light high to his side, a distinctive splintering of light where there should have been none as the fading sun struck against glass. The splintering of the tree bark as Nik jerked Mikayla to him and threw them both to the ground as the sharp retort of a sniper’s rifle cracked through the air.

  “Move!” Nik didn’t give Mikayla a chance to move on her own despite the order.

  Hooking his arm around her waist, he jerked her from the ground as the next bullet struck the ground at the exact spot her head had been and he pulled her around the tree, in front of the Jeep, then raced for the house.

  Another round hit the cement of the sidewalk just ahead of him as he threw them both into the house, adrenaline and sudden racing terror streaking through him as Mikayla collapsed against the wall, a streak of red against her face, on her pretty, creamy blouse.

  “Mikayla.” Her name was a harsh, broken sound as he jerked the edges of her blouse apart, searching for a wound. There was none there. Nothing. Just blood.

  Blood on her face, her head.

  “Ah, God. Mikayla. Mikayla.” She was
staring up at him in horror, her eyes wide, shocked, the black nearly filling the amethyst color as her hand lifted to her head, the golden color stained.

  His hands were shaking. Sweet Lord. Ah, God. She had to be okay.

  “Wood.” Her voice was strangled. “I think it hit me.”

  She touched her head again, her fingertips coming back marred red as she stared at them. They began shaking like a leaf at an oncoming storm. She lifted her gaze to him once more.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t let them kill me, Nik. Please.”

  A tear fell. A single drop of fear and pain that slid slowly down her too-white face to mix with the smear of blood on her cheek.

  Fear raked across his soul. Only once in his life had he ever known anything approaching the sheer agony, the horror, that filled him now.

  He had no weapon but the small snub-nosed pistol secured just inside the top of his boot. It was no match for a sniper. And there was blood on his woman.

  His woman.

  He wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he found who Mikayla saw that day, and who suddenly wanted her dead.

  CHAPTER 8

  Nik escaped just after midnight, Mikayla’s father’s vow that he wasn’t leaving his daughter alone giving Nik the chance he needed to make a little visit.

  Only one person had reason to want to silence Mikayla, and that was Maddix himself. He knew Nik was leaving the job unfinished. Just as he knew that Mikayla wouldn’t stop trying to prove he had killed Eddie Foreman.

  If it wasn’t Maddix, then someone close to him. Someone who feared she would prove Maddix guilty. Or was it someone trying to make it appear as though Maddix had grown tired of her accusations?

  The possibilities were becoming endless, and it was time to begin eliminating them.

  Fury was cold and silent inside Nik. A murderous rage that he had only felt once in his life, burning in his soul. God help the shooter when Nik got his hands on him, and he would find him. And he’d kill him. Slowly.

  The sight of Mikayla’s blood would live in Nik’s nightmares.

  The police had been very little help, and that had only served to piss him off further. She had on more than one occasion called the chief of police a liar when he’d given Maddix an alibi. That had placed her in a very tenuous position now that she needed help from that same police force.