by Sheila Kell
“Did you travel growing up?”
“Yes… with Madison’s dad. He married my mom when I was thirteen. Madison is a year younger than me, so we had a good time together.”
“What place did you enjoy visiting the most?”
A frown formed on her lips. “You’ll think it corny, but it was Epcot Center at Disney.”
Devon’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Epcot? That’s not a typical young girl’s dream.”
Wistfully, she sighed. Telling this man her private dreams seemed second nature. It was an oddity she didn’t wish to figure out if she didn’t have to do so. “I fell in love with Paris and wanted to live in France and pretended it was where I lived.” She shook her head. “I know it was silly.”
“Did you learn French?”
“Parlez-vous français?”
A chuckle emerged from him. “You were devoted. Maybe we can visit sometime. France,” he clarified, “not Epcot.”
“We’ll see.” She brought herself back from her grand memories to the man beside her.
“What about you?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking… from wanting to learn something about the man who put her body and mind into a free spin.
“Did we travel?” He nodded. “Oh yeah. Dad made sure we saw a lot of the world.”
“Did you have a favorite place?”
Taking a moment, she thought maybe he couldn’t decide. He must’ve seen a lot to have such a tough time choosing his favorite.
“Vegas,” he said softly, shocking her senses. Before she could formulate a response, he changed the subject. “Do you fish?”
Fish? That was out of left field. She turned to him. “Fish?” Maybe he meant it as a euphemism like fishing for information to help them find the girls.
He looked at her with a boyish grin that made her insides do a little flip-flop. “Yeah. Rod and reel, hook ‘em, and fry those bad boys up. Fishing.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his description. “Not since I was a little girl.”
“We can grab some rods when we’re in town.”
A slight edge of panic reared itself, and she squashed it as much as possible. No one would be looking for her. No way did Chuck and snub-nose tell anyone about her. That’d be suicide for them admitting they’d held a gun to their heads to get them there. “Why do we need to go into town?”
He shrugged and turned his gaze to where she’d last seen Angel. “I need some things. Do you have the stuff to make S’Mores?”
What the…. Did he think this was a vacation? “Devon,” she huffed. “We’re here to see if the girls are at that ranch. I don’t see how fishing and S’Mores will help with that.”
He turned his focus on her with twinkling eyes that promised enjoyable mischief. “Are you saying you’re not going to live up to your part of our bargain?”
Damn him. “Of course I am, but….” Her voice trailed off when she couldn’t think of an appropriate rebuke.
“Good.” His gaze traveled to the hair brushing her shoulder, and his hand reached out to touch it. “What’d you do with the ring?” His soft voice almost mesmerized her.
“It’s, um”—she looked down and gazed at her naked left ring finger—“in Baltimore.” When he didn’t respond, she rushed to add, “I can get it back to you if you want it.”
His hand froze and the tantalizing goose bumps that had been sprouting over her, as his hand lightly grazed her shoulder, disappeared. His voice commanded her attention. “Look at me, Rylee.”
Slowly, she raised her eyes and fell headfirst into his warm expression.
“I’d rather you were wearing it.”
“I—”
“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out later.”
“I—” What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t get a word out of her mouth. Worse, she had a guilty twinge stealing through her for not wearing the ring. But, why would she? She’d asked for the annulment.
He settled back to toying with her hair again. “I have some tapes to show you of us.”
Rylee jumped up, panic flooded her. “We made—” She wrung her hands. “We made sex tapes?” she asked, full of fright at the idea. Good God, she’d been even drunker than she’d thought.
Surging to his feet to meet her, he shook his head. “No, no, no,” he all but shouted. A flush of red crept up his neck. He was embarrassed, and she had to admit, his reaction endeared him to her.
His response set her at ease, yet apprehension settled in while they sat back down. The plan was to get his help, show him they wouldn’t work, and get him on his way.
Make the plan. Stick to the plan.
Frustration welled inside her as his hand returned to her hair. If only she could snatch it out of his hand without seeming too much like a bitch. Then again, maybe that would get him to forget about the two of them. Although a small part of her started wanting there to be a two of them.
She cleared her throat and her wayward thought. “What about the girls? I want to see if they’re in that house.”
“When are you going to tell me the rest?”
Her insides froze with ice cascading through her veins. How could he know there was more? She couldn’t be that transparent. If she told him they wanted her, he wouldn’t let her help. Besides, there was no guarantee anyone would continue to look for her. They also didn’t know where she was. Nothing would come of that. She relaxed her muscles, certain she was out of danger. He didn’t need to know. “There’s nothing else to tell.”
“Um hm.” Disbelief saturated Devon’s response.
She didn’t care what he thought. As long as he helped her.
“I’d like to bring in my brothers for this.”
Again with the bringing in someone to help. Didn’t he believe he was enough to gather evidence? “No.” She may have said it more forcefully than she’d planned, but it was important he understand her stance. “Not until we’re sure they are there. I won’t pass off finding their location only to have the girls continue to slip through the cracks. Besides, I’ve had FBI training, and you’ve had—” She broke off with a questioning look on her face knowing all of HIS had some law enforcement or government background.
“CIA training.” He paused and shrugged. “Computer training,” he filled in.
“Oh.” Disappointment sliced its way through her brilliant plan. He’d said he did computer stuff, but she’d hoped he’d been trained as an agent somewhere. If the girls were there, and there was time, they could bring in the Hamiltons. But, to find them, they needed to get inside and that meant someone who’d been trained for scenarios such as this.
“Believe me. You need my skills.”
“What are they?”
His hand left her hair and clasped around the nape of her neck and then pulled her to meet him. He moved closer slowly and his eyes bounced from her eyes to her lips and set a burning desire for him to kiss her. No. She couldn’t allow this to happen, yet she wanted it with every fiber of her being. Deep down she knew it would happen at some point, but she wasn’t ready yet. Everything was happening too quickly.
“Oh? What… are they?” Her eyes drifted to his devilish grin and the yearning in his eyes, and a delicious shudder ran through her.
“This.”
At first, his lips lightly touched hers, but it sent a hot sensation that rocketed through her body. When he applied more pressure and moved his mouth over hers, her eyelids drooped shut and she eagerly followed his lead allowing his tongue to slide into her mouth at his gentle probing. A sweet, violent shiver wracked Rylee as he shifted their heads and deepened the kiss.
She should stop this… needed to stop it, but the longer his lips locked on hers, the weaker her resolve to separate them. Her heart pounded in an erratic beat. Swamped with lust and longing, her desire for him was so intense that it burned from deep within her. If this was what flared between them, then she could see how her feelings for him must’ve been deep that night.
He lightened the kiss and nibbled on h
er lower lip for a moment before he pulled back.
She opened her eyes to a grin that touted he knew she sported the lingering effects of a well-kissed woman.
“And….” He sprang from the swing, sending her rocking back in the seat and almost losing her balance, and walked inside the cabin.
Dazed from the kiss, curious, and a bit confused that he walked off without answering, she followed him inside and stumbled over her own feet. So disconcerted was she at wanting more, she wasn’t able to speak. What was happening?
Devon emerged from the spare room. Had he been leading her there? Disappointment lashed through her when he proudly produced a laptop and a SAT phone. What the hell was wrong with her?
He set them on the table and opened the laptop before looking at her. “This,” he said matter-of-factly, pointing at the computer, “is the other.”
She had to figure out which he was better at—handling the computer… or her body.
RYLEE KEPT HERSELF occupied in the kitchen while Devon typed away at his keyboard—cursing under his breath from time to time. Watching him sitting strong, his long fingers teasing the keys, had left her hot and bothered. Granted, it was probably heat left over from the kiss. Wow! What a kiss it had been.
It hadn’t brought back any memories, but her body had hummed like it was welcoming home an old friend. If her body reacted that way in all aspects of being near him, she could understand their coming together so quickly. The energy that zipped between them would’ve driven her to his bed. So, when had love come in to play?
She’d be patient. If it came, it came. If it didn’t—well, she’d deal with it then. Right now, she needed to be focused on rescuing the girls and not her all fired desire for Devon Hamilton.
Opening up to him had surprised her. It wasn’t some secret she had to keep that she’d shared with him, but the fact she had shared with him was significant. Worse, she’d wanted to tell him more. Even though it shouldn’t, being so comfortable with him frightened her to her core. She could only imagine how it must’ve been when they’d first met if she was willing to open up so easily.
Not wishing to deal with her personal life any longer, curiosity sprang forth, and she had to know what he’d discovered. She brought two small plates of grapes and sliced apple and set one on the table near his computer and then she sat down beside him with her own plate.
He didn’t look up. Just kept stroking the keys like a magician casting a spell. Images of those hands on her body had her shifting in her seat. She knew they weren’t memories; they were fantasy because they occurred in the cabin. In her daydream, he stood from his seat and kissed her deep and fast while his hands roamed her body. Then he carried her off to bed. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t wash the vision away, and her body craved the satisfaction his earlier kiss had promised.
That happened to be when Devon looked up at her with raised eyebrows. Her face heated at where her thoughts had been. If only he knew…. When she fanned herself, a smirk grew on his face. He grasped a grape and sucked it into his mouth—slowly—watching her the entire time.
Holy cow. Now why did that appear seductive? She thought only women doing that for men made it erotic. Damned if it didn’t build on the fire inside her calling out for him.
Fighting not to react, she smiled as best as she could. “How’s it coming?” She thought her voice sounded calm, cool, and collected. Based on his chuckle, she could’ve been wrong. The man knew she wanted him and was toying with her. Damn him.
She froze when he reached out and lightly stroked her cheek with a finger. “Thank you for the snack.”
Squirming again, but keeping her cheek resting near his hand, she cleared her throat. “I—” She paused and cleared her throat again. “I wondered if you’d found out anything.”
His hand halted its movement and a frown formed. Now she’d done it. She’d ruined whatever heat he felt for her. That shouldn’t bother her. She knew that even though she wanted him, they needed to wait until they got to know each other better. He would understand that.
“Nothing much yet. I’m mostly double-checking what you’ve found out so far.” He scooted his chair back. “Come here,” he demanded.
Affronted, she refused to move and give in to him. Nothing good could come of her being that close.
Devon cocked his head and gave her a boyish grin. “Please.”
Unsure what drove her, she rose from her chair and stood by him. She gasped when his hands clasped her waist and he deposited her on his lap. Instinctively she slung an arm around his shoulders.
“Better.” He nibbled on her neck, and she almost flew out of his lap. His touch… his lips on her ignited a brushfire within her that she wanted him to tend. Wanted him to put it out.
Before she realized it, she’d arched her neck to provide him better access to her throat and was running her hands through his hair. A sigh slipped between her lips, and her body cried out for more.
When his hand covered her breast, she did bounce out of his lap and stood out of arm’s reach. Her body may be ready, but she wasn’t. “I—” She reached forward and hurriedly grabbed her nearly full plate. “I’ll just clean up.” Escape was her only option, at least in her mind it was. When she reached the kitchen, she was so hot for him that her skin felt as if it were on fire. She reached inside the freezer and removed an ice cube. As she ran it up and down her neck where he’d been nibbling, she heard his laughter from the table.
“SON of a bitch!” Devon ground out and then surged from his chair and began to pace. He absently wove his unsteady hand through his hair and considered what he’d found. The Robert Carver he knew was the owner of the house and had named it Canyon Creek Ranch. The property had been in the family for two generations. There was nothing nefarious about that. Even former CIA bosses deserved to own a home. But still.
Rylee had to be wrong about the girls being there. Carver might’ve left the agency not long after Devon had, but it’d been to retire, not to sell young girls. Even the thought that his old boss might have the girls held captive was beyond his scope of belief. Yet, Carver had some tie to Westbrook since he had visited. Lovers? He’d never considered Carver’s preference, but he had never married. Friends? Possible, but the more he considered it, the odder that idea sounded with Dave’s father being a criminal. Business partners? Not in the way Rylee thought. Devon wouldn’t allow the anger he felt for Carver to cloud his judgment in this case. Human trafficking was a big jump from covering up a covert agent’s murder.
Instinct told him not to share that he knew Carver, and who he was, with Rylee yet. If they found out the girls were there, he’d explain his relationship with the man. Otherwise, she might not trust him to be sincere in his search.
Carver though. Fuck! He wanted to scream at all the memories he’d pushed aside because of that man.
“Devon?”
Rylee’s sweet voice stopped him in his tracks. He dropped the hand from his head and smiled at her. Each moment with her told him that while they weren’t in love, they could be one day. She’d start to let him in completely.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yes.” He walked to her, SAT phone in hand, and she backed up to keep him at arm’s length. Dammit. He’d pushed his luck earlier, but he couldn’t help himself. Being close to her was difficult because he wanted to touch her constantly. She’d enjoyed the hell out of the kiss, as much as he had, so her pushing him away cut deep. “Call the cabin’s owner and have the phone line and internet connected tomorrow. Internet is shit on the SAT phone.” Let her think that was his frustration.
She nodded and reached for the phone, carefully avoiding touching his hand.
Hellfire. “I need to make a call.” He heard the gruffness in his voice and didn’t care. He entered the guest room and snatched up the second SAT phone. He would not let her get to him. He’d show her the girls weren’t there and then they could work on their marriage. Hell. Just as he knew she wouldn’t, he couldn’t jus
t drop it either. They’d look for leads to the girls. He’d tear apart everything he could of Dave’s and even Brent’s lives. He’d agreed to help her rescue them, and he would do whatever he could to make that happen. That came with its minefields, but he’d worry when he had to.
Stalking past her, he thought of how to handle the request he had to make. If his asking for anything got back to the wrong person, the entire HIS team would be swarming and he’d never get a chance to get Rylee to trust him. He wanted them in on this… needed them, but at the moment, there was nothing they could do except completely fuck up his chances for a happy—and lengthy—marriage.
He took a deep breath, dialed, and hoped this gamble worked. He silently apologized in advance to his brother and sister-in-law for corrupting their employee.
“Hello.” Mrs. Kessler, the older woman Jesse had hired when Reagan was a baby to help care for the little girl after his brother’s wife’s death, had a smile in her voice. When he married Kate, Mrs. K., as they’d come to call her, had already become part of the family and spent her time keeping the men in line. Devon recalled many times she’d chastised him for one thing or another. Mostly getting his hair cut when it’d been longer. Maybe growing up without their mother had them adopting her as a pseudo-one. No matter the reason, Kate may rule the roost of her home, but Mrs. K. held the wooden mallet when it came to the Hamilton men.
“Hi, Mrs. K., this is Devon.”
“Devon Michael Hamilton!”
He cringed at the use of his middle name.
“What’s with you running off? Are you going to be home in time for Jason’s game on Friday?”
He stared out at the red, gold, and brown leaves on the trees but failed to witness their splendor. One leaf caught his gaze as it drifted, floating here and there before it landed on the ground. He silently sighed. Leave it to Mrs. K. to make him feel properly chastised, like a six-year-old boy who’d been caught trying to kiss a girl, with only a few words.
As for getting home for the game, that wouldn’t happen. He hated not being there to support his nephew. Kate and Jesse adopted the kid after he’d lost his parents while he’d been in the hospital. With his leukemia in remission, and the sports training provided, his nephew had his big wish—to play football as quarterback. He wasn’t strong enough to last an entire game yet, but he started every one of them at his school. Jubilance surged through him at what the boy had accomplished. He’d find a way to make it up with him. “Sorry, I won’t make it back, but I’m sure Kate will tape it for me.”
