Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  A growl tore from her throat.

  She was insane.

  She wasn’t doing this to herself.

  She wasn’t going to …

  Was she?

  She stared around the room and shook her head again.

  She couldn’t think about this now. She couldn’t think about Nik like this, not right now.

  She had a dress to start, a life to live, and once she got home she had a killer to catch.

  Nik was living in her house, he had promised to find out what was going on, and that meant he would prove Maddix Nelson had killed Eddie Foreman. And she was going to help.

  CHAPTER 9

  Nik arrived at the shop at precisely eight o’clock, when Deirdre and Mikayla had finished cleaning the shop and adding up the accounts for the day. They were putting the finishing touches on a new window display when the Harley throbbed to a stop at the curb and the vision of “rough and ready” swung from the seat to rise to his full glorious height.

  He pulled the wicked black helmet from his head and gave his head a hard shake, allowing the long strands of pure white thick, luscious hair to fall just below his shoulder blades carelessly.

  “My God, do you think men get as hard when they see a woman do that as I just got wet?” Deirdre breathed out in awe at the sight.

  Shooting her a disgruntled look, Mikayla forced herself to finish tucking the back of the summer dress over the mannequin and pinning it into place before the bell over the door announced that Nik had entered the shop.

  “Are you ready?” His voice was a hard, deep rumble that had Mikayla’s stomach flexing in a surge of pleasure.

  Deirdre turned, caught Mikayla’s eye, and lifted her brows as she mouthed, Oh yeah.

  Mikayla didn’t even bother to shake her head at her friend. “We’re ready,” she assured him as she strode to the counter and picked up her purse, watching as Deirdre followed.

  Within minutes Mikayla was in the Jeep and headed home, all too aware of the Harley following close behind her.

  As she pulled into the driveway she inhaled deeply, collected her purse and the large leather briefcase she used to carry her sketchbooks and supplies.

  “I’ll go in first,” Nik told her as they moved toward the door. “Stay behind me. Once we enter the house, remain in the foyer while I check everything out. I’ll come back to the living room and get you if everything is clear. If I call back to you that it’s not clear, then I want you to run hell-for-leather and call Jordan Malone. I programmed his number into your cell phone before we left the shop.”

  When exactly had he managed to do that?

  The thought of anything happening to him or any threat directed at him because of her suddenly had her heart racing in dread. What would she do if by chance he were hurt? If somehow whoever had shot at her the day before managed to harm Nik instead?

  “And stop worrying,” he ordered. That fierce, rasping statement couldn’t be described as anything other than an order as he glanced over his shoulder and gave her a hard look before stepping onto the porch.

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” she muttered as he held his hand out for the keys.

  “And don’t bother arguing with me, either,” he warned her as she handed them over. “I know what I’m doing, Mikayla.”

  She had only a glimpse of the lethal black handgun that he pulled from behind his back after he unlocked the door.

  She did as he’d ordered, though. She stepped into the foyer, closed and locked the door behind her before resetting the alarm and waiting as he began going through the house.

  Lights came on in each room. Living room, kitchen, and dining room. The half bath, the hall. She heard him going into each bedroom; then she heard the thud of his steps as he came up the basement stairs. Minutes later he was walking back into the living room, the gun no longer in sight.

  “I hate this,” she said as she tossed her purse and case on the nearby table and stalked to the kitchen. “It’s ridiculous.”

  “The price you pay for being honest.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug as he followed her. “You should have known there would be backlash when you reported what you saw, Mikayla.”

  Those pale, pale blue eyes watched her intently as she moved for the refrigerator and pulled an oven dish from inside. Sliding it into the oven, she set the heat and the time before shrugging her jacket off and glaring back at him.

  She didn’t bother answering.

  “I need a shower. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  She escaped as quickly as possible. He was getting ready to ask questions, she thought; she could see the intent in his eyes. Questions she didn’t want to answer again. She had no desire to see the suspicion in his eyes as he asked her if she was certain she had seen what she knew she had seen. What she thought she had seen.

  Stepping beneath the water, Mikayla frowned at the thought. She was certain she had seen Maddix Nelson, wasn’t she?

  She closed her eyes as water washed over her face, and let the image of that day flash through her mind once again.

  She was staring up, the dying rays of the sun striking the upper floors of the skeletal building. And Maddix stood there, staring down at her as Eddie Foreman fell to the ground, his chest soaked with blood.

  Maddix. His features were distinctive. The personable lines of his face, the way he brushed his hair back, the strong line of his jaw, his lips held in a rigid line of fury as he saw her.

  Like a photo, but blurry after time, she admitted.

  Shaking her head, she hurried through her evening routine. When she finished, her long hair was halfway dry and falling down her back rather than in the braid she normally kept it in. Light cotton sweats and an overlarge T-shirt completed her evening attire.

  Normally, this was relaxing time. Tonight, she had a feeling relaxation was going to be the least of what she had to look forward to.

  Moving from her bedroom, she was met with the sight of Nik leaving the guest room. He’d showered as well. Damp hair was pulled back to his nape, exposing the strong, harsh features of his face, the pale icy blue of his eyes.

  “Dinner should be ready.”

  She rarely went out of her way for dinner. She normally ate late, so she kept it simple, a nice casserole. Tonight chicken dumpling casserole was on the menu. She’d prepared extra and bought a loaf of freshly baked bread to go with it.

  She knew how much a man could eat. Her brothers had been proving it since they’d hit puberty.

  Dinner was quiet. Thankfully. She needed time to unwind. The events of the past two days were beginning to eat at her. The harder she tried to forget that someone had actually tried to kill her, the sharper the memory became.

  “What did you find out today?” she finally asked as she cleaned up the table and placed the few dishes in the sink for washing later.

  “Not a lot,” he answered.

  Leaning back in his chair, the beer he’d opened held loosely between two fingers, he stared at her with a thoughtful frown. “I went through the file Maddix gave me last night, checked it against the information a source of mine had. The police have no suspects, as we already knew. Tomorrow, I’ll head to the construction site, see what I can find out there.”

  “You’ll find nothing there,” she informed him. “The building is more than halfway completed now. The area where Eddie was killed is completely filled in, and the workers refuse to talk to anyone about it. Maddix has covered his tracks well.”

  She peeked over his shoulder as she started the dishwasher.

  “Or someone else has.” He sighed as he leaned forward and stared back at her intently. “Let’s go under the assumption here that you’re both telling the truth. That means, there’s another player involved.”

  She shook her head. “How does that make sense? Only Maddix would have a reason to kill me. If someone else killed Eddie, then it wouldn’t make sense for him to want to hurt me because I believe I saw Maddix?”

  “That’s one of the
questions that now have to be answered,” he told her.

  “I wish I’d never seen it.” Turning back to the dishes, she fought back her anger and her tears. “It’s been nothing but trouble for me as well as my family, Nik. No one believes me, and Maddix plays the game perfectly. He’s getting away with murder and no one even cares.”

  Even Nik believed him. Mikayla could tell he did.

  The tension in her shoulders was so clear that Nik swore he could feel it in the air.

  Hell, he had no idea what the fuck to do here.

  “Let’s sleep on it, see what we can come up with.”

  “I know Maddix and Eddie argued hard for weeks before Eddie was killed.” She swung back to Nik, her gaze fierce. “Loud enough that they were heard outside the office that sits on the construction site. Then again days later at the cantina. Maddix was angry at him over something. Has your buddy told you what they were fighting over?”

  “Maddix hasn’t mentioned it. And why are you just now mentioning it?”

  “Because you’re just now showing any interest in doing anything about it.” She turned back to him, those incredible amethyst eyes damp and filled with pain. “No one wants to listen, Nik. That’s what I keep trying to tell you. And no one wants to know the truth. The only reason I know about this is because my brother Scotty just happened to have been on the job site as well as at the cantina. He witnessed it.”

  Nik made a mental note to talk to her brother after he found out what he could at the job site.

  For now, he had a hellaciously long night to look forward to, because God only knew it was going to be impossible to sleep. She was a single door away from him. The scent of her filled the entire house. The thought of her, sleeping alone in that big bed she had, spread out, tempting, and warm, was enough to drive him insane.

  Fuck.

  He drank the last of his beer, his gaze on her back as she finished the dishes and set them in the drainer.

  The clothes she wore practically hung on her, but they did nothing to make him forget the sweet perfection of her body beneath them.

  “You should let me go to the construction site with you.” Turning, she wiped her hands on a small towel as she stared back at him challengingly.

  “And you should hop up on this table and let me have you for dessert,” he suggested as he allowed a hint of the hunger he felt to fill his voice.

  Her face flushed. The prettiest shade of pink suffused her cheeks. Would the rest of her body flush so charmingly?

  “I don’t think so.” Her voice was breathy, and he liked that. He knew she was at least thinking about it. That was a good thing. “And that has nothing to do with me going to the construction site with you.”

  “That’s about as likely to happen as you letting me go down on you.” He shrugged, watching her expression closely. “As a matter of fact, me going down on you is probably more likely.”

  His entire body tightened as he watched her catch her breath, watched her nipples tighten beneath her T-shirt. Hard, pretty little points that he knew were achingly sensitive. He wanted his mouth on them again. He wanted to lick them until they were cherry red and each breath caused a cry to part her pretty pink lips.

  “I doubt it.” She tried to sound firm, determined, but a virgin was no match for the sensualist Nik knew he was. He wanted her until nothing else seemed to matter. Wanted to taste her with a desperation that clawed at his balls.

  “Don’t make it a dare, Mikayla.” He rose from his seat before turning and tossing the beer bottle in the trash. “I might not walk away from that so easily. You want, just as bad as I do.”

  He left the room rather than standing there and watching that need fill her. Damn, it was all he could do to make himself walk away.

  Mikayla had dreams. Whatever those dreams were, they didn’t involve losing her innocence in his bed. At least not yet.

  He was going to have her before this job was over; he could feel it. He knew it. Just as he could feel the knowledge that taking her could destroy both of them.

  He didn’t need this, he reminded himself, not for the first time. He didn’t want to break Mikayla Martin’s heart. He didn’t want to steal the gift she was obviously saving for her husband. But the hunger was coming close to overriding his convictions. And that wasn’t a good thing.

  The next morning Mikayla stepped from the bedroom, in some kind of sinfully designed-to-stop-the-male-heart summer dress.

  It was a soft lavender, sleeveless with a heart-shaped front that cupped her breasts and snugged up to them before flaring over her hips and ending just above her knees in a slim-line skirt that had his hands itching to draw it up her legs.

  Three-inch cream-colored heels covered her tiny feet and still left her incredibly short. Her hair was braided again, the French braid pulling the strands back from her face and revealing the pretty, soft lines of her face.

  Minimal makeup complemented her skin, but the hint of gloss on her lips made him hungry to lick it from the lush curves.

  “Breakfast is do-it-yourself,” she told him as she passed by him, her attention on the contents of the little cream-colored purse she carried. “Deirdre usually picks something up on her way in, so I don’t cook in the morning.”

  Hell, he’d kept his distance last night; this morning was another thing. Those little buttons between her breasts tempted his fingers; the hint of sweet flesh between her breasts peeked out at him, and tempted his tongue.

  He was about to have his breakfast right now. At least, a little taste of it.

  Snagging her around the waist, he pulled her to him.

  Before she could protest, he lifted her to the center island, pressed in between those pretty legs, and held her still for a kiss that fried every synapse in his brain.

  All he knew, all he felt, all he tasted, once his lips touched her was Mikayla, heat, and sex. His cock, already hard, painfully so, seemed to thicken further. His balls drew tight and his body became one hard ache where she was concerned.

  A moan of surrender was the answer to his kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest, and Nik was lost in her.

  God, she tasted of pure heat. A man could become lost in her forever if he allowed it.

  One hand cupped the back of her head to hold her in place while the fingers of the other moved to those buttons. They were meant to intrigue, designed to tease.

  He had them loosened in about three seconds flat, and when he figured out she wasn’t wearing a bra his breath stopped in his chest.

  His hands filled with the lush mounds. He couldn’t help it. Slanting his lips across hers, he shaped the firm, heated flesh, his thumb raking over tight nipples as she flinched beneath the caress.

  He felt like a schoolboy. Hell, like a teenager, copping a feel for the first time. His hands were almost shaking as she arched against him and shuddered in pleasure.

  Pulling back from her, Nik stared down to where the swollen, feminine curves filled his hands. His thumb moved slowly, firmly, over a nipple, and he watched as a hard breath pushed her breasts tighter in his grip.

  “Like ripe little berries,” he whispered, his gaze lifting to stare into her mesmerized eyes.

  Pleasure was swamping her. Nik knew the look, knew the flush of arousal out of control, the swollen lips parted to breathe easier. But there was more. Her eyes darkened to near purple, a wild glitter of hunger flickering in them as her little pink tongue moistened her lips.

  “What are you saving yourself for, Mikayla?” he asked her.

  He needed to know. He had to know those dreams before he committed the ultimate sin of destroying them.

  A sharp little inhalation.

  “Nik …”

  “Tell me, baby,” he growled. “Tell me what you’ve saved yourself for.”

  She destroyed him when she answered. “You. I think I’ve waited forever for you, Nik.”

  One of these days, he’d learn not to push his luck, not to tempt fate, and to ne
ver question a woman, Nik thought as he pulled the Harley into a parking slot in front of the business and sales offices of Martin’s Plumbing and Water Works.

  The store was on the outskirts of town, housed in a rough-hewn building reminiscent of days gone by. The appearance was deliberate, though, rather than a result of the building being run-down.

  Before moving on in the investigation, Nik had a few questions for Scotty Martin. The three Martin sons were now working for their father’s business. Before they had joined their father they had each worked in other construction areas. Their father had insisted they get the experience.

  Scott was working the main store with his parents this week, Nik had learned. He had a few questions for the youngest son of the Martin clan. Namely, why the hell he had left his sister to hang out to dry after he’d found a ride that day.

  Striding into the store, Nik found the younger man immediately. Scott stared back at Nik with the same suspicious look the rest of the family had given him several nights before when he had assured them he would be looking after Mikayla’s safety.

  None of them trusted him, and that was fine. But other than the father, Nik had not noticed anyone protesting too vociferously.

  “Steele.” Scott’s eyes narrowed on Nik as Ramsey moved from the office in the back.

  Nik nodded to the father before turning back to the son. “Could we talk for a minute?”

  Scott shifted nervously. He was man enough to know exactly why Nik wanted to talk to him.

  “I’ll be back in a sec, Dad,” Scott told his father before glancing at the parking lot.

  “This can be taken care of in the office,” Ramsey informed them both, obviously as sharp as any father. “Where I can watch you two.”

  Nik almost let his lips quirk into a smile. Instead, he strode to the office, expecting the other two to follow and not really giving a damn if they did so agreeably.

  “Mikayla doing okay?” Scott cleared his throat nervously as he and his father stepped into the office and the door closed behind them.

  “She’s doing fine,” Nik assured Scott. “But all you had to do was call her to find that out, wouldn’t you think?”