As he did, Carmichael yanked his gun out of his pocket and aimed it at the other two men. “Both of you, outside. Now! Move!”
Luke and Holmes froze.
“Fuck,” Luke murmured. “Now look what you’ve done, Holmes.”
“Put your gun down, Mr. Carmichael. You don’t want to do this,” the agent said calmly.
“Seriously, dickhead, you don’t,” Luke added and got an elbow in the ribs from Holmes for his attempt to help.
Carmichael waved his gun back and forth. “You two are keeping me from finding Elle.”
“Get a clue, prick. She doesn’t want you to find her, and she’s not in my house. Now get the hell out,” Luke shouted. He’d had more than enough of this guy.
Holmes patted the air with both hands. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s all calm down. Mr. Carmichael, put the gun away. I’m sure Deputy Johnson will let you search his house.”
“Like hell, I will,” Luke spat.
“Work with me here,” Holmes muttered and shot him a sideways glance.
“I tried, but I’m done.” He jerked his head toward Carmichael. “You or me?”
Holmes rolled his eyes. “We’ll share.”
“Stop talking and—”
Before Carmichael could finish, both men pounced. Luke, who was closer to the gun, chopped the man’s wrist, sending the gun clattering to the floor. Then Holmes yanked the guy’s arms behind his back and pushed him down onto his knees.
While the agent slapped on the handcuffs, Luke called the Ramona station and requested assistance.
“We don’t need them. I’ll take Carmichael with me,” Holmes said.
“Sorry, man. I’m pressing charges. This asshole needs to spend the rest of the night in jail.”
“But—”
“No. If you take him into custody, he’ll make his one phone call, and Washington will be falling all over itself to get him out. My guys don’t have the complication of those political strings. He can be our guest for the night.”
Holmes’s shoulders slumped with resignation. “I knew Carmichael was a no-win assignment when they stuck me with him.” He sighed. “You got this?”
“Yeah. Go get some sleep. You’re gonna need it tomorrow.”
* * *
A familiar voice penetrated the fog of sleep. “Elle, wake up. Call off your attack cat before he shreds my jeans.”
“He’s protecting me,” she mumbled, still half asleep.
“That’s my job,” Luke said.
She blinked her eyes open and stared up at the golden-haired god towering over her. A hot, muscular, shirtless god who made her forget what he’d just said. “Excuse me?”
He hesitated. “You hired me, remember?”
“We’ve been through that BS.” She sat up and brushed the hay from her arms and hair. “Here, kitty-kitty.” The cat immediately extracted its claws from Luke’s jeans and bounced into her lap. She hugged him to her chest and nuzzled his soft fur. “You didn’t tell me you have a cat.”
“I don’t.”
“Who’s this then?”
“Hell if I know. I see him hanging around the barn sometimes, but he never comes near the house.”
“Well, he’s a cutie. You should keep him.”
“I value my legs and jeans, thank you very much. But he’s welcome to catch all the rats he wants.”
She gave the cat’s head a scratch, set him on the floor, and shivered at the loss of warmth. “Thanks for protecting me from the four-legged rats. Be good now.” Standing up, she brushed more hay from her clothes. “How did things go with Richard?”
“Not well.”
She recalled her ideas about Richard’s potential motive for having her kidnapped but opted not to share them. Not yet, anyway. “He can be very unreasonable.”
“Well, he’s going to be ‘unreasonable’ in jail tonight.”
“Jail? Oh God, his father will have a fit.”
“Hey, he shouldn’t have broken my chandelier and attacked me with a two-by-four. Plus, he pulled a gun on an FBI agent and a deputy sheriff.”
“Damn. He’s really out of control.”
“Ya think?”
“Sorry you had to deal with him.” She shivered again.
Luke shrugged off her apology. “You’re cold. Let’s get you inside.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Heat radiated off his beautifully tanned skin, and she snuggled close. God, the contact felt so comforting and…intimate.
At the barn door, she stopped and turned her face up to look at him. “Can I keep him?”
Luke’s gaze hardened. “Carmichael sees it the other way around.”
“Richard?” She laughed. “Hell no. I mean the cat.”
He blinked. “You want to keep the cat?”
She pursed her lips into a pout. “Yes. I’ve never had a pet.”
He pulled back and stared, incredulous. “Not even a goldfish?”
“No.” She sighed. “Mother and Father always said there wasn’t enough ROI to justify one.”
“R and O what?”
“ROI. Return on investment.”
“That’s messed up. You don’t keep pets as investments. You get them for companionship, love, and fun,” Luke said.
“I knew that, but they didn’t.”
He pushed the barn door open wider and escorted her toward the house. The windows glowed with warm, welcoming light.
“I guess you and Karla had a pet.”
“Lots of them. Dogs, cats, rabbits, turtles, fish, birds, hamsters. You name it; we had it. Wait, that’s not quite true. Mom drew the line at spiders and snakes.”
“Good for her.” When they reached the back door, Elle surveyed the large expanse of his property. “Why don’t you have any pets now? You have plenty of room.”
He followed her gaze. “That I do. What I don’t have is time. I don’t believe in being an absentee pet owner. Animals need love and companionship, too. And right now, when I’m not on duty, I’m renovating the house. No time for love and companionship.” He let out a long sigh. “But someday, I hope to make this a home for at least one horse and—”
“Ah, therein lies the need for the cowboy hat.”
He snorted. “And a few dogs, some chickens, a goat, and more rat-catching cats.”
“No more people?”
“Oh, sure. A wife and four ankle-biters.”
Her eyes widened. “Four kids? I thought I was the only one in the world crazy enough to want four children.”
His arm dropped away from her shoulders, and she immediately missed the tantalizing, skin-to-skin contact.
“Are you mocking me?” he asked tightly, his posture suddenly rigid.
“Of course not. I’m the one who usually has people making fun of me for my family plans.”
He studied her a moment and then held the back door open. She slipped under his muscular arm and into the kitchen. Two cups of cocoa and a package of Oreos were on the table.
“Thought you might want something hot and satisfying to help you get back to sleep,” he said.
Oh, I do, but it’s not cocoa and cookies. She smiled. “It’s almost like you read my mind. Thanks.”
They sat on opposite sides of the kitchen table, sipped cocoa, and munched on cookies.
“Why do you want a bunch of kids?” she asked.
“When Karla and I were left with no one, it was awful. Lonely beyond belief.”
“You had each other.”
“True, and we got each other through it. But being so…dependent on one person and having that person be just as dependent on you can be…suffocating.”
“Hmm. When I was growing up, I would’ve given anything to be suffocated by someone.”
“Your mom and dad didn’t dote on you?” Luke asked.
“Mother and Father dote? They don’t know the meaning of the word. They hardly noticed me. Nanny wasn’t much better. I was forever lonely.”
“No
siblings?”
“No.”
“Aunts, uncles, cousins?”
“Yes, but we never had time to visit them. Father was always working, and Mother was always…socializing,” Elle said.
“Totally different home life for me. Family was way more important to Dad than his career. Mom didn’t have a paying job, but she volunteered for stuff while we were at school. She always managed to be home before us with cookies and milk waiting. Even when we were teenagers.”
“Sounds idyllic.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t really appreciate them until they were gone.”
“Isn’t that the way it always is?” She yawned before taking a sip of cocoa.
“Maybe it’s what Carmichael is experiencing.”
Elle peered at him over the rim of her cup. “What? Did you guys do some male bonding while I was hiding?”
“Nope. Just sayin’.”
Should I share my suspicions about Richard? No, now doesn’t seem the right time. “Let me assure you that Richard is only interested in proving how wrong I was to break up with him. This is more about his ego than his heart.”
“Ouch.”
“Sad, but true.” She yawned again.
“We can continue this enlightening conversation tomorrow before I take you to a hotel, but right now, we both need sleep. C’mon.”
He stood and waited for her to get up also. Holding her hand, he led her down the hallway to the bedroom. After she kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed, he fluffed the sheet over her.
“Good night,” he said.
“Good night…and thanks…for everything.”
She watched the movement of the sculpted muscles in his back as he sauntered to the bedroom door. Below the low-slung waistband of his jeans, the worn denim cupped his tight ass as she ached to. And she wanted his big, warm hands…all over her body. Unrelenting lust flared. She didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Luke.”
Stopping, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Yeah? Ya need something?”
“Yes.” She gulped. “You.”
Chapter 11
You’re dreaming, buddy. Elle didn’t just say what you think she did. Of course not. She was a Washington socialite, and he was a hick, as Carmichael had called him earlier. Luke cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
“Please…stay,” Elle said softly.
Okay, not dreaming. I definitely heard that. “Um…I’m not sure what you mean.” Beneath his jeans, his dick twitched with joy at what it thought she meant.
She patted the bed beside her. “I…I don’t…really don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you mind sleeping…in here…with me?”
Ah, sleeping, of course. Seriously? Okay, now he was absolutely screwed. Metaphorically speaking, at least. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Disappointment doused the glistening need in her eyes. She looked away. “Sure. I understand. You don’t trust me, and you hate all reporters. Hard to want someone you hate.”
“Jesus, Elle, you think I don’t want you?”
Her eyes darted back to meet his. “Do you?”
“Hell yeah. I’ve been kicking myself for wanting you since the moment I first saw you naked in my headlights. But that’s not the point.”
“If I want you, too, does there have to be a point? Consenting adults and all.” She gasped. “Oh God, you have a girlfriend.”
He snorted. “Dates, yes. Girlfriend, no. That’s not the problem. Look, your head’s not in a good place right now. I can’t let you do something you’ll regret later.”
She threw off the sheet, sat up, and scooted back against the headboard. “Shouldn’t the choice be mine?”
The enticing cleavage above the neckline of her tank top and the conspicuous nipples beneath it taunted him. “Not if I’m protecting you. In this case, protecting you from yourself. You don’t know what’s going on because you’ve never needed LAS before.”
“LAS? Are you making a law-enforcement joke?” she asked irritably.
“It’s no joke; it’s real. But yeah, law enforcement and the military are probably best acquainted with it.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense. What is LAS?”
“Life-affirming sex.”
She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, probably to make a smart-ass comeback or to tell him to go to hell. He couldn’t decide which. But she did neither. Instead, she blinked a couple times, popped her lips back together, and then covered her face with both hands.
Well, damn. He hurried to the bed and sat down beside her. He tried to pull her into his arms, but she pushed him away. “Elle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Please don’t cry.”
“Don’t panic. I’m not crying.” She shook her head in disbelief. “How stupid of me. I should’ve known something was wrong.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You survived a month-long trauma where you thought you might die. LAS is a celebration of not dying, an affirmation of being alive. So, it’s a good thing. But you need to understand it’s all you want…the kind of sex you want…not something more.”
She lowered her hands. “I’m sure you’re right. What I’m feeling isn’t real attraction or lust. It’s only a desire for LAS.” She grinned appreciatively. “You’re a very smart man, Deputy Helpful.”
“Glad you noticed. Now go to sleep.” If I’m so smart, why did I just talk myself out of getting laid? As his dick angrily shrank, he forced a smile and gave her a friendly peck on the cheek before standing and heading to the door. Again.
“Luke?”
He stopped. His dick twitched with hope. “Yeah?”
“Thanks. Good night.”
“Good night.” Down boy. He pulled the bedroom door shut behind him as he stepped into the hallway. His hand remained on the knob for several more seconds before he yanked it away and marched to the kitchen.
Too wired to sleep, Luke opted for Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. Resting his elbows on the table, he hunched over the tumbler and cradled his head in both hands. What a shitty day. Hard to believe he’d found Elle only about twenty-four hours ago. He had certainly learned a lot about her in such a short time.
Was that why he felt so protective of her, even though she was a goddamn reporter? Had he given her bad advice tonight because of his male protectiveness? How could he know if she just needed LAS? Why didn’t he believe she was feeling the same sparks of attraction zapping him?
Perhaps his instant lust was simply a byproduct of Elle being naked the first time he’d seen her. He was damn sure that had never happened to him before. Whether she only wanted LAS or not, he couldn’t have sex with her. Not yet. Not until he knew she wasn’t vulnerable from her traumatic experience. Besides, he didn’t think Elle was into casual sex, and a fling was all they could ever have. For so many reasons.
He snorted. Sex of any kind between a hick and a rising-star socialite was a terrible idea anyway. Because, if they did hook up, it would be fodder for the tabloids. Something he could never tolerate.
To deflate his swelling dick, his brain switched gears away from sex. Tomorrow, he needed to convince Elle to talk to the FBI. They would’ve already seen all the reports from the Sheriff’s Department, including his interview with Elle, but they would also have questions. She could learn things from them, too.
He and Elle were flying blind without the information the FBI had gathered since her abduction, including the DC police reports about her stalkers. Without more intel, there wasn’t much the two of them could do.
Elle had told her parents she wanted some time—alone and quiet—to recover, but time was a luxury she couldn’t afford if they hoped to catch her kidnapper before he disappeared completely. It might already be too late, but Luke wasn’t willing to concede defeat. He was, however, ready to motivate Elle to use her investigative skills to help identify the guy. If only they had the information she needed to work with.
He drained the tumbler and stuck it in the dis
hwasher. Massaging the tense muscles in his neck, he headed for the living room, hoping for a few hours of sleep.
As he passed the bedroom door, though, a muffled noise made him stop. Frowning, he silently opened the door a crack and heard the unmistakable sound of crying. Well, damn.
“Elle?” No response. “I know you’re not asleep. You okay?” He hesitated. “Can I help?”
He was about to leave when she finally spoke.
“I’m fine. Thanks anyway.” Her trembling voice told a different story.
Crap. Tears. A guy’s worst nightmare. Only fools rush in… He sighed and pushed the door open. “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier.”
“No worries. You didn’t,” she said, striving for a cheery tone but failing.
“Dammit, Elle. Stop bullshitting. Talk to me.” He took a tentative step into the room.
“I-I’m sure this is just a delayed reaction to my ordeal. I’ll be fine.”
He moved a step closer. “If you don’t want to talk to me, why don’t you call your folks again?”
She laughed harshly. “They’re the last people I want to talk to. Scratch that. The last person would be Richard, but my parents are a close second.”
“Okay. How about a friend?”
While drying her eyes with the sheet, Elle pushed herself up to sit against the headboard. “I don’t have any real friends, only fair-weather, advantage-seeking acquaintances.”
He dropped onto the bed beside her. “I find that hard to believe.”
She sniffled. “Well, believe it.” She shook her head. “You don’t really know anything about me, Deputy Helpful.”
He clasped her hand between both of his. “I disagree.”
“Well, I bet you don’t know this.” She cleared her throat. “If you’re a woman in DC’s elitist society, you’re not allowed to have a career. Instead, you’re supposed to be a charity volunteer, a charming socialite, a trophy wife or girlfriend. If you’re foolish enough to have a job, you’re a pariah; and no one wants anything to do with you other than what might elevate them in society. For example, if someone wants to be invited to the best galas, she might hang out with me, but the relationship isn’t friendship. In the other circle of people in my life—my coworkers—it’s just as bad. Most of them are hard-working, middle-class people who resent society types. They consider me one of those people. So, unless I’m an avenue to advance their careers, I’m an outsider in that circle, too.”
Only Obsession (Rogue Security Book 3) Page 9
