The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  There were no photographs of Gage with people in his life. No souvenirs. No mementos. There was essentially nothing to give her a handle on the man, himself.

  She heard the bathroom door open, then Gage emerged from the shower, dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt. The first word that popped into her mind to describe him was formidable. Another quickly followed, handsome as her mind filled with the image of his upper body without the shirt. The man was hot.

  She blew out a breath. How he looked didn’t matter to her. What did matter was the manner of man he was. She didn’t have an adjective for that. She twisted her lips. Not a flattering one, at any rate.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Despite his complaints about her being there—and they had been numerous—he had taken her in and treated her injuries. Treated them gently and with care which she had to admit surprised her, given his downright rude attitude.

  The shower hadn’t improved that attitude, she observed. The rest of the day went by without them exchanging a word and the silence continued as they ate chicken dinners. When Mallory was finished with her meal and had discarded the remains and washed her utensils, she went to the window. She pulled back the curtain just enough to see outside. It was still light out and the snow was still blowing strong.

  “Tell me about Considine.”

  Gage’s voice startled her after so many hours of silence, even if the question didn’t. It was understandable that Considine would be on Gage’s mind as well. Mallory released the curtain and turned to address Gage. Where to begin? “We’ve been wanting to go after Considine for a long time. Congressman Pritchard Manning spearheaded a task force dedicated to bringing down Considine. Considine’s organization controls the drug trafficking, prostitution, and racketeering for the entire state. You name it.” She lifted a shoulder, let it fall. “We know all this, but haven’t been able to touch him. On paper, he’s as clean as that fresh snow outside.”

  “You said that the club you worked at is a front for human trafficking?”

  “Yeah. That’s a new one on Considine. We had no idea about that.”

  “Who owns the club?”

  “It’s registered to a William Wilder who is also the club manager,” Mallory said. “I’m looking to tie him to Considine when we bust the trafficking operation open.”

  “What makes you think Considine is behind this trade?”

  “From what I learned, the business is too big for him not to be. No way a small timer like Wilder is running that. For one thing, he doesn’t have the brains. He’s taking orders from someone. Considine is the logical choice. It has to be him!”

  She could not keep how she felt about Considine in check and heard her own vehemence. As did Gage. His gaze grew intent on her.

  “Right now,” she went on, “my main concern is getting to the women before they’re shipped out of the country. Once they’re gone,” Mallory shook her head slowly, “they’ll be lost forever.”

  “Do you have a date for their transport?”

  “No. Just their current location. Or, that is, their location as of when my cover was blown. Two men from the Don’s crew were taking me to a cabin somewhere in these mountains to be interrogated when the car went off the road. That was the car accident I mentioned earlier. The men in the vehicle with me were killed but two more of Considine’s people showed up and I had to make a run for it into the mountain. I lost them and ended up here. By now the women could have been moved.” She rubbed her forehead where a headache was brewing between her brows. “I’m hoping that since Considine wanted to interrogate me, he doesn’t know just what I found out about his organization. He may not know that I found out about the women.”

  “It’s possible.”

  She heard the doubt in Gage’s voice. “But you don’t believe that.”

  “He might not take the chance and move them anyway.”

  She couldn’t discount the possibility and it filled her with fear again for the women and desperation to be off this mountain.

  A wave of dizziness had her grabbing for the wall to keep from falling face-first onto the floor. Eyes closed, she bowed her head to get a blood rush and stop the spinning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Mallory opened her eyes at the sound of Gage’s voice, surprised to find him standing beside her. She was still holding the wall, but for some reason couldn’t keep her body upright.

  Gage put an arm around her. “Easy.”

  She didn’t want to lean into him, but couldn’t keep from doing so. His hold tightened and he swung her up into his arms.

  As they moved away from the wall, she said, “I need—”

  “What you need is to be horizontal for a while.” He set her down gently on the couch. His brows lowered and he placed a hand to her forehead. “Shit. You’re hot.”

  “No. No, I can’t be sick.”

  “Looks like your body didn’t get that memo. There’s a thermometer in the first aid kit I used to clean your head wound. I’ll be right back. Stay put.”

  The room had started another slow spin. She closed her eyes. In what felt like a second later, he was back. She opened her eyes that now felt as heavy as lead weights. Gage was watching her intently, deep creases of worry lining his brow.

  He held up a thermometer. “Open.”

  She did as he asked and he inserted the thermometer into her mouth. When a beep sounded, indicating the temperature had been determined, Gage tugged the thermometer free. As he read the number, the creases between his brow deepened further.

  He left her again briefly, returning with the aspirin and a bottle of water. Mallory raised her head and tried to do the same with her body, but fell back against the cushions. Gage wrapped an arm around her and raised her gently, taking her weight. He shook a few tablets into her palm then set the rest on the table and brought the water to her lips. When she’d swallowed the pills, he eased her back onto the couch.

  She ground her head back and forth on the pillow. “I can’t lay here. I need to keep watch for Considine.” She made to rise off the couch.

  “I’ll keep watch,” Gage said.

  * * *

  Gage placed a hand on Mallory’s shoulder to keep her from rising and hurting herself, but she stopped trying to get up. Her eyes, bright with fever, closed. Another shudder shook her and she huddled into herself. He covered her with the blanket he’d used the night before, tucking it gently around her, but her trembling continued. Her face was pale but for two spots of red on her cheeks from the fever. He had no idea what was causing her temperature to rise. Had nothing here to find that out or to treat her with if he did determine a cause. He hoped to hell the aspirin would be enough to bring down the fever.

  One thing he could do to help with that was to cool her off. He left her briefly, returning with a damp cloth that he softly passed along her cheeks then placed on her forehead. The cloth warmed quickly and he repeated the process. She’d said she was in a car accident. Did she have an internal injury? Would fever result from something like that? He didn’t know. With the blizzard in full force, it would be some time before he could get her to a hospital. In the meantime, he hoped to find out that all this was nothing more than her body fighting off a cold.

  Tremors rocked her. When he checked her temperature next, it had risen.

  She curled into a tight ball. “How—high?”

  “Another degree.”

  “It’s rising fa-st.”

  “Yeah.” He was silent a moment, not liking what he knew he had to say next. “We need to break the fever. The aspirin and cloth on your brow aren’t doing it. We need to wet you down.”

  She winced, then nodded.

  “Do you need help with your clothes?” Gage said.

  “I can man-age.”

  He left her to it and went to fill a basin with cool water, but when he returned, she’d lowered the blanket to her waist and lay fumbling with the shirt. He set the basin on the coffee table and gently removed her top. She was weak.
Her arms were all but limp as he slid them from the sleeves. The fever was sapping her strength.

  Tossing off the blanket completely, he took off the pants and socks, but left on her bra and panties. A concession to them both.

  She was shuddering, her teeth chattering and though he wouldn’t have thought it possible, she shrank into herself further. Seeing that, knowing he was about to cause her what would amount to pain, he hesitated. In the end though he was going to do this. Her body temperature had to be brought down. He had no choice.

  He passed a hand down his face. “I’m going to turn you onto your stomach.” He lifted her. She was trembling in his arms. Hell, she was burning up.

  He set her back down on the couch carefully, facing him. Her eyes were closed. He sat beside her, dipped the cloth he’d been using on her forehead into the water and passed it across one shoulder. Gooseflesh pebbled her skin at once. She gasped and her back bowed. When her body dropped back to the sofa, she was still. Gage’s heart rate jumped, but she was breathing. He closed his eyes briefly as his heart regulated, then continued on his course.

  He continued to run the cloth over her until her skin cooled then gently turned her onto her back and did the same to the front of her body. He repeated the process again and again. The wind was howling now and flinging snow at the window and the walls of the cabin with audible thuds. The bit of light from outside that showed along the edges of the curtains faded. Gage left Mallory to douse the lights but for a small lamp on one end table then resumed his task.

  He was still at it when the first weak streaks of dawn appeared. Mallory’s lips moved and she mumbled something he didn’t catch. It was the first sound she’d made in hours and he felt relief hearing it.

  She now felt cool to the touch. A check with the thermometer showed that her fever was down. He brought the blanket to her shoulders, then rubbed a hand over his eyes and down his jaw. The night’s growth of beard made a rasping sound.

  Now that Mallory’s condition had improved, he was beginning to feel the night without sleep. He’d been running on adrenaline. The rush ended and he was crashing. He couldn’t let that happen. She was better but her fever could spike again. He couldn’t take for granted that because her fever was down at the moment, it would remain so.

  He plopped the cloth into the basin then went into the kitchen, straight to the coffee pot which still had yesterday’s coffee in it. It was as thick as sludge and bitter. Regardless, he drank deeply then poured a second cup and leaning back on the counter, stood watching Mallory, alert for any sudden movement.

  The next moments brought no change with her or with conditions outside. The storm that had been raging since yesterday wasn’t letting up. The day promised to be a dark one. Dawn had come and gone but it still looked like morning was breaking.

  Gage finished his coffee, abandoned the mug on the counter and returned to Mallory. He placed his palm gently on her forehead. Still cool. When he straightened away from her, he found that she was watching him. She looked heavy-eyed from sleep. Her dark hair was tousled. Her lips fuller and a deeper shade of pink.

  It was a combination that sent a punch of lust shooting through him. He felt a burst of self-directed disgust. The woman was ill. Still, he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Morning.”

  “It’s morning?”

  “Has been for a while now.”

  The sleepy look was gone from her eyes in an instant, replaced by full-on panic. “What’s happening outside?”

  “No change.” She visibly eased at that. “How do you feel?”

  “Could I have another couple of aspirin?”

  Gage lifted her so she could sit. He gave her two tablets and a bottle of water. “You should eat something. How about some soup?”

  She swallowed the pills. “You can make soup?”

  “I can heat soup. From a can.”

  She smiled. It was the first time he’d seen her smile. She had a crooked incisor and for some reason he found that small flaw wildly attractive. He felt an influx of blood where he needed it least. He steered his thoughts back to where they belonged: Soup.

  He was still holding her to ensure she didn’t slide down the couch. “Can you sit up alone while I get on that soup?”

  “Yes.”

  He removed his arm from around her slowly and saw that she was able to maintain that position without his help. He went to the kitchen and began opening cupboards.

  Mitch kept some stock items. Cans of soup among them. Gage found the double row of stacked cans on a top shelf. Chicken Noodle. Vegetable. Steak and Potato. He opted for the chicken noodle and fifteen minutes later carried a steaming bowl to her.

  She was still seated as he’d left her, in the center of the couch but when she reached out for the bowl, he saw that her hands were unsteady. “Gonna need some help with that.”

  “I think I’ll be fine on my own if this were in a mug.”

  He complied and while she sipped from a mug with a bison decal on it, Gage drank more coffee and kept an eye on her in case she faltered with the soup. Before she was half done, she leaned forward to set the mug on the table. He took the mug from her. “That’s it?”

  She nodded. Her eyelids drooped.

  Gage watched her. “Get some more sleep.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “You haven’t slept at all. You need to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

  “I can manage one night without sleep.”

  She looked to him now. The strain was back in her eyes and it got to him. He was glad when her eyes drifted closed and he could no longer see it.

  * * *

  Mallory opened her eyes. Where was she? Her heart pounding, she realized she was still at the cabin. Considine hadn’t found her.

  How long had she been out? Was it still day or now night? Was it still snowing?

  She heard the shrill cry of the wind and heard snow pelting the cabin. But those weren’t the only sounds. She heard others, dull repetitive thuds, these inside the cabin.

  With an effort she raised her head above the arm of the couch. Gage was stretched out on the bench press, lifting a barbell. As she watched, he blew out a breath, lowered the bar, lifted, then lowered it again.

  He’d been at it a while by the look of him. Long enough to work up a sweat. Damp spots showed on the blue T-shirt he wore. Sweat sprang on his brow now as his biceps bulged with the strain and his chest swelled. Mallory’s mouth went dry in a way that had nothing to do with the effects of the fever.

  He paused, locking the barbell in position above his head and his gaze honed on her like a laser. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She gave a small shake of her head. “What time is it?”

  “Ten.”

  “AM or PM?”

  “AM.”

  She’d slept through a day.

  Gage released a gust of air, then set the bar back on the brace with a clang of metal on metal and slid off the bench. A towel was draped over the back of the arm chair. He picked it up and swiped it across his brow. “How you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  He crossed the short distance to her, pressed his palm to her brow. “Cool, but I want to take another look at your head wound anyway. Make sure it’s not infected.”

  She could see the first aid kit on the kitchen table. He left her to retrieve it and make a stop at the fridge for juice and a sport drink. He poured juice into a glass then put the other bottle to his lips and drank deeply. When he’d all but drained it, he washed his hands, took the glass of juice from the counter, and snagged the kit.

  He placed the items he carried on the coffee table. Standing over her, he gently parted her hair. Despite his light touch, Mallory grimaced. “How does it look?”

  Gage smoothed back the hair that had fallen across her face. “Clean.” He held out the glass of juice and more aspirin. “I need to shower. Will you be all right for a few minutes?”

  “Fine. I’m fine.”

  He hesitated, peering at her from
beneath brows that were now drawn together. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I won’t be long.”

  She wanted to shower as well, but before she could, she’d need to be sure her legs would support her. She pressed her lips together in frustration, hating the weakness. “Take your time.”

  Though they believed an attack from Considine would come under cover of night, before he left her, Gage placed his gun on the sofa beside her.

  True to his words, he was back with her quickly. He went into the kitchen and shortly after, the microwave began to hum. A few moments later, Gage set one of the two frozen meals he’d heated on the coffee table in front of her. Mallory’s stomach balked at the thought of anything more than soup and when she voiced that, he brought her another mug of the chicken noodle.

  The wind had increased. Instead of losing strength, apparently the storm was gaining. Even if the drapes hadn’t been drawn, she wouldn’t be able to make out the trees through the swirling snow, but this mountain had been rich in them. “Must be pretty here when there isn’t a storm happening.”

  “I never noticed.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he’d responded. She frowned at his comment. He’d spent six months in these mountains, how could he not have noticed their beauty? She would have asked him about that, but since he wasn’t big on conversation, she kept the thought to herself.

  Once he’d delivered her soup, he’d returned to the counter to eat his meal as he had before. He said nothing more now. She wondered if he was naturally a man of few words or if the solitude had made him so. Or, maybe the reason he wasn’t chatty was a night and most of a morning without sleep. “Why don’t you go into the bedroom and get some sleep?”

  “I can go without a little longer.”

  She gave a little hum of agreement. “A hazard from pulling all nighters on the job—or a perk, some would say.”

  “In my case, it’s a result of all the coffee I drank.”

  Mallory winced. “I don’t know if what I saw in your cup earlier could still be considered coffee.”