by Dee Davis
“Do nothing?” It was Alain’s turn to frown.
“I didn’t say that. I said we’d wait on both Atterley, whoever he really is, and Carmichael to make their moves. And then we’ll deal accordingly. But in the meantime I want men following them both. I’ll admit I’m curious about this woman and where she fits into all of this. The intel I received has her traveling with two men, both of whom seem to possess unusual agility when it comes to evading capture.”
“A-Tac.” The word came out a curse, and Brecht smiled.
“I’ve nothing to confirm that. Although two of the team apparently were in New Orleans recently. They’re back in New York now, though, which makes their connection potentially a spurious one. Still, I think it bears further investigation.” Brecht sat back, draining his glass and then gazing out at the illuminated skyline. “A-Tac is like a gnat in your ear. Just when you think it’s gone, it comes back again, buzzing and buzzing until it drives you insane.”
CHAPTER 13
So you find anything at the site?” Tucker asked, his attention centered on the video image of his brother on Harrison’s computer. He, Alexis, and Harrison were ensconced in a roadside hotel just outside Amarillo in order to put distance between them and whoever had set off the bomb. With Alexis in the shower he’d taken the opportunity to come to Harrison’s room for a quick confab with Drake.
“Tyler’s still there working,” his brother said. “But so far she hasn’t come up with anything we don’t already know. You guys were really lucky.”
“Yeah, well, all in a day’s work.” Tucker smiled. “But I’ll admit surviving two blasts in less than a week is maybe a little more than I signed on for.”
“I still think you should call this off. Just bring Alexis in. This thing has gotten way too dangerous. And we still have no idea where the threat is actually coming from.”
“We actually talked about bringing her in,” Harrison said, shooting a look at Tucker for confirmation. “But she’s really jumpy when it comes to any kind of government involvement. For good reason when you consider the situation with her father.”
“Yes, but we have nothing to confirm her version of how things went down.”
“We have nothing to contradict it, either.”
“Whoa. I wasn’t trying to throw stones,” Drake said defensively. “But like it or not, we do have credible intel that someone is trying to sell the formula.”
“Well, it’s not Alexis,” Tucker said, feeling a lot like a stubborn second-grader.
“Look,” Harrison said, playing the mediator. “The point here is that, guilty or not, until we find something else to go on, Alexis is our best bet. And the only way she’s going to cooperate is if she continues to believe we’re on her side.”
“Well, unless she’s actually the one trying to sell the formula, we are on her side,” Drake insisted.
“Maybe technically,” Tucker said, “but you know as well as I do that, at the end of the day, A-Tac is all about the formula, not Alexis.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve let this get personal.” Drake’s eyebrows raised in question.
“No, I haven’t,” Tucker was quick to respond. “It’s just that she’s been through a lot.”
“Harrison?” Drake asked, turning to his friend for confirmation.
“I don’t think she’s our target either. But I do believe she’s the fastest route to finding out who is. And as long as we’re careful and keep our cover in place, I think she’ll give us free access to anything she knows. The key is to keep her believing Tucker was a friend of George’s.”
“What about the journal?” Drake asked. Tucker had filled his brother in when he’d called the “police” before leaving the bomb site.
“I’ve skimmed it, and Harrison had a look, and we’re in agreement that it’s nothing. Just a woman writing about an illicit affair.”
“Between Alexis’s mother and George,” Drake confirmed. “That can’t have gone down well.”
“Yeah, I think it hit her pretty hard, but she’s quick to rebound. A lifetime of bad news will do that to you. So, did you get a hit off the license plate from the Mini Cooper?”
“Yeah, but it was a dead end. The owner of the car sold it two days ago. Cash purchase. So there’s no record. He signed over the title but said the guy was in a hurry and didn’t sign it himself.”
“He didn’t give a name at all?”
“Yeah, he gave one, but it’s only helpful if you believe in the supernatural,” Drake said. “The guy who bought the car identified himself as George Atterley.”
“Great. We’re after a poltergeist.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said you were up for anything.” Drake grinned, and for a moment Tucker forgot about the woman in the next room, just reveling in the adrenaline rush of being back on the job. “Anyway,” his brother said, sobering, “on the good-news side of the equation, Hannah finally managed to run an address to ground for Peter Dryker.”
“Sounds to me like we need to pay the man a visit.” Harrison leaned back, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, well, Avery thought maybe one of us should do it.”
“No.” Tucker shook his head. “No way. We’re the ones in the firing line. And if anyone is going to have the satisfaction of facing our tormentor, it’s going to be me.”
“I’m down with that,” Harrison said. “We’re more than capable of handling it.”
“What about Alexis?” Drake asked, the mention of her name throwing cold water on their exuberance.
“We’ll take her with us. Hell, this is her fight after all. And she’s not exactly a liability in the field. You should have seen her with that suitcase. Most women would have gone into panic mode when the damn thing started blinking, but she took it all in stride.”
“Again, I’m hearing more than professional involvement, bro.”
“It is what it is, bro.” Tucker said, trying to keep it light.
“Point taken. Just be careful, Tucker.” Drake’s teasing tone turned serious.
“I’ll be fine. Hell, I’ve got Harrison here, riding shotgun.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Harrison said, shaking his head. “So where’s Dryker live?”
“Just outside of Austin.”
Alexis stood by the window looking out at the cars on the highway below. The West Texas plains stretched in either direction, seemingly endless. The night was clear, the stars taunting her, sleep impossible. So many things she’d believed about her life were a lie.
Her family hadn’t been whole and loving. Her mother had been cheating on her father. And George, the man she’d always thought of as her savior, he’d been lying too, pretending to be her father’s friend. In hindsight she recognized now the tense silences she’d interrupted between her parents. Had her mother already betrayed her father?
Part of her wanted to reject her mother’s words, to pretend the journal didn’t exist. But it did. It was there on the table, mocking her. Like the stars. She blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair, wondering what the hell she was doing in a hotel in Amarillo with a man she barely knew. A man who killed without second thought and had friends who could infiltrate even the most closely guarded security systems.
And the worst part of it all was that, in some really perverse way, she was enjoying herself. Tucker Flynn didn’t treat her like some hot-house flower that had to be pampered and protected. He didn’t try to tell her how to think, how to live. And he didn’t lie.
She perched herself on the windowsill, touching her head to the cool glass. When had her life become so complicated? From the beginning, a little voice whispered. Since the day she was born into her father’s world. It wasn’t his fault he’d landed a life on the run. But it had affected all of them just the same. Her brother had been withdrawn. Her mother had found love outside of their family. And Alexis wanted to escape so badly that she’d wound up living when everyone else had died.
She shivered, not sure
if it was the early morning chill or the realization that life as she knew it would never be the same. So many times she’d tried to pretend that she could be normal. That there was a reality out there that didn’t involve false names and doctored papers. But the truth was that the people she loved best had all lied to her in one way or another. Except maybe her father. He was the real innocent in all of this. Hunted by the government for trying to do the right thing, he hadn’t deserved anything that had happened to him.
Even as she had the thought, she knew in her heart that nothing happened in a vacuum. If nothing else, he’d chosen to work for the Omega Project. And even though he’d believed his work was theoretical, he had to have known there was potential for it to be used in real-life applications. No one was that naïve. Especially her father.
She tilted her head back, closing her eyes, trying to find an answer amidst all the questions. Someone was trying to kill her and she had no idea why. It had something to do with her father or George, that much was clear. But that wasn’t enough of an explanation, and it certainly wasn’t going to help her find answers.
She’d been over it and over it with Tucker and Harrison, but she still hadn’t a clue what this was all about. The only thing she knew for certain was that whoever had killed her family had probably killed George too. So there was a serial bomber out there, but nothing at all to link those bombings to her attempted kidnapping or to the men who’d tried to kill them.
None of it made any sense. Why, after all these years, would her father’s killer surface again? And why had he targeted George and, by association, her?
It was enough to drive a girl crazy.
She smiled at the thought, grateful at least that she still had her sense of humor. George had always said that if you could find a way to laugh, anything was bearable.
Behind her, in the adjoining room, she heard Tucker talking in his sleep. It had been the same in the apartment in New Orleans. She’d been embarrassed then, feeling as if she were intruding on something private. But now that she knew the man a little better, her only thought was to help him. To release him from the torment of his dreams.
She pushed open the adjoining door, the light from her window spilling across the room. Tucker was thrashing in the bed, his face coated with a fine sheen of sweat. He was wearing sweatpants but no shirt, his torso laced with scars. Battle wounds, she supposed, although she had no idea what those battles might have been. His hands were fisted as he struggled against his demons.
“No,” he cried, jerking to the left as if avoiding an unseen foe. “Hector, no.”
She crossed to the bed, reaching out to wake him, but froze as he called another name.
“Lena. Oh my God, Lena…” The pain in his voice was almost beyond bearing. Tears filled her eyes. “No…”
She reached for his arm, surprised to find the skin there puckered and scarred as well. “Tucker,” she whispered, her fingers kneading gently. “Tucker, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
For a moment he went still, then he grabbed her hand so tightly she was afraid her wrist would snap. “Tucker,” she called again. “Let me go. Tucker.”
Without opening his eyes he growled, his grip tightening as he flipped her underneath him, pinning her with his body, her breath releasing on a whoosh, the pressure of his weight making it difficult to breathe. “Tucker, please. Wake up. You’re hurting me.”
Again he stilled, but this time his eyes opened, the haze of his dream lifting until she could tell he was truly awake, confused but no longer dangerous.
“Holy shit,” he said, rolling off her to sit on the side of the bed. “What the hell happened?”
Alexis gulped in air, her breathing labored as she tried to regain some sense of equilibrium. “You were having a nightmare. I tried to wake you up, but—”
“I attacked you? Jesus, Alexis, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, swinging her legs around so that she was sitting next to him on the side of the bed. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, not really.” She rubbed her wrist, pretty certain there would be bruises. “You just scared me a little, that’s all.”
“You have to believe I would never—”
She covered his lips with her finger. “I know. Honestly, I do. I’m just sorry you had such a horrible dream.”
He reached up to cover her hand with his, their gazes locking as her heart suddenly started to pound. Slowly, he lowered her hand and then bent to kiss her palm, the heat from his touch spiraling through her with an intensity that belied the gentle touch of his lips against her skin.
“Tucker, I—” she started, but it was his turn to silence her, his mouth covering hers, taking possession with one powerful thrust of his tongue. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this wasn’t a good idea. Knew that he wasn’t the kind of guy to settle down and live a regular life. But then maybe she wasn’t that kind of girl. She’d never really had the chance to find out for certain.
Until now.
They fell back onto the bed, his hands hot against her shoulders. The feel of his palms moving against her bare skin was intoxicating—sensual beyond belief. Heat seared through her as they moved together, his tongue thrusting deeper into her mouth, the sensation sending tremors of need wracking through her.
He stroked the curve of her breast, her flesh responding beneath the thin cotton of her camisole. His thumb circled one nipple, his other hand stroking her back, the rhythm hypnotic—carnal.
She pushed against him, desire spiraling out of control, and his hand moved lower, caressing the skin of her abdomen, soothing and exciting her with one touch. His lips moved too, following the hollow of her cheek until he reached her ear, his tongue sending more fire rippling through her as he traced the curve of its shell, his mouth moist and hot against her skin.
His head dropped lower, his lips trailing along the line of her shoulder, his kisses teasing in their simplicity, his hand continuing to move across her skin. His mouth found the crest of her breast, the hot, sweet sensation tantalizing with its promise of things to come.
Urgency built within her. The need for something more. For connection, belonging. The part of her that she kept locked away clamored for release. She knew there was every possibility that she’d live to regret this, but the physical pull was so strong now. So essential. Like breathing.
With desire shimmering between them, Alexis pushed closer, grinding her hips against his. Her hands slid to his waist, slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats, her fingers brushing the velvety tip of his penis. With a groan he pulled off her camisole, and she returned the favor. Undressing becoming a game between them, one piece for another until they both were naked, desire exploding with a power she’d never experienced before. It was as if she stood on a precipice, some intrinsic force urging her onward with the promise that she could fly.
God, she wanted this man.
But he pulled away, pushing up so that he towered above her, his gaze locking on hers, desire etched across his face. “I want you, Alexis. But I need to know that you want me, too.” The vulnerability in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.
She opened her mouth but she couldn’t form the words, instead nodding, her heart pounding a rhythm in her head. For a moment cold air surrounded her and she felt a flicker of doubt, but then he was there, his heat consuming her, his mouth and hands worshipping her.
She closed her eyes and let sensation carry her away. Opening her mouth to his kiss, she drank him in, wanting nothing more than this moment, this man. Their fervor increased, each touch, each movement raising the stakes, heightening the pleasure.
His mouth was warm and his touch delicious. He moved from her mouth to her neck, his tongue tracing the line of her throat as he worked his way slowly downward, his mouth moving across the valley between her breasts, the action sending her writhing against the sheets. Then he pu
lled one nipple into his mouth, sucking deeply, the resulting sensation cresting between her legs.
Sensation robbed her of all cognizant thought. And just when she thought she couldn’t possibly feel any more, he pushed her legs apart and slid lower, the soft silk of his hair teasing her breasts as he slowly licked and kissed the tender skin of her stomach.
Anticipation built inch by inch until she wanted to cry out, but she stayed silent, forcing herself to wait, knowing it would be worth it. Finally, finally, his hands moved between her legs, his mouth following the curve of her inner thigh, his hot breath teasing her with its nearness. She sucked in a breath, waiting… waiting, one minute praying for him to hurry and the next arching off the bed, his hands holding her hips in place as he licked and stroked her.
She cried out, the pleasure almost more than she could bear. Clasping the headboard behind her, she arched her back, urging him on, her need building with each stroke of his tongue. The fire inside her built higher and higher until finally she reached for his hands, screaming his name, the world splintering into glittering shards of light.
For a moment, she felt suspended above the world, and then with an intensity that surprised her, she realized she needed more. With unbridled passion, she began to taste him. All of him. The salty skin at the corners of his eyes. His beard-stubbled chin. The softer skin of his neck, the scars that covered his arm and chest. This man was a warrior. His strength pulsed through her, and he wanted her.
Her.
She took his nipples into her mouth, caressing first one then the other with her tongue, delighted when they responded to her touch. Moving lower, she sampled the taught skin of his belly.
And then finally her lips found the velvety heat of his penis. She ran her tongue along its length, pleased to feel him tense in pleasure, his hand stroking her hair, urging her onward. With a smile she took him into her mouth, feeling him grow harder even as her own desire burgeoned.
And then he was urging her upward again, his hands settling beneath her hips, lifting her until her legs circled him, their gazes locked. There would be no turning back. She was clear-headed enough to know that. She wasn’t one to give herself lightly. And a part of her—the rational, sane side—was screaming a warning, but the rest of her embraced the moment. And the man.
