Smash and Grab: Action-Packed Thrilling Romantic Suspense (Callahan Security Series Book 2)

by Lori Matthews

  He’d blown it so badly his brothers were going to have his ass. Sleeping with the target was not something a good operative did. Not that he was an operative. Still, even he knew it was a huge mistake. One that he would make again and again at every opportunity. He had it bad for Lacy Carmichael, and he wasn’t about to give up the chance to be with her again.

  He grabbed the soap and started washing his chest. How was he going to find out if she was involved in the Drake mess now? It wasn’t like he could ask her. He could well imagine how that would go. He’d seen her blow up before, and it wasn’t pretty. The lawyer who had set her off was mince-meat by the end of her tirade.

  Just thinking about her brought a smile to his lips. He loved the way her skin felt, the way she responded to him, and the way she moaned his name. She had gotten under his skin with her beautiful green eyes and her cute smile, her amazing ass and her wickedly smart brain. She was great under pressure, a quick thinker, and a dreamer—just like he was beneath it all. Yes, Lacy Carmichael was the whole package. And now he had to find out if she was part of a deadly conspiracy. Shit. There had to be a way to do it without losing her trust.

  As he got out of the shower, he caught sight of his bruises in the mirror. What the hell was he thinking? He had let his dick rule his brain. She’s an assignment, remember, jack ass? He had been kidnapped, beaten, and was currently being hunted because of her. He’d forgotten all about Scar and the gang. She’d truly addled his brain. One problem at a time, he told himself as he toweled off.

  Yawning, he padded into the bedroom and eyed the bed. Those few hours of sleep he had gotten earlier just hadn’t stretched far enough. He was tempted to crawl into it now, but there was no way he could let Lacy go anywhere by herself.

  As soon as he was ready, he went and poured himself some coffee. Ten minutes later, Lacy entered the living room showered and dressed to go out. He had been sitting on the couch, but he got up and poured her a cup of coffee. She took it with a grateful look.

  “Would you like a lift into town?” he asked politely.

  Startled, she lifted her eyebrows.

  He explained. “I had my brother wire me money. It’s waiting for me in town. I thought you might like a lift since I’m going that way anyway.” He mentally crossed his fingers that it wouldn’t click with her that it took longer than a day to get money wired. He hated lying to her, but it wasn’t like he could confess he was going to follow her. It was the only excuse he could come up with for going into town.

  Lacy eyed him suspiciously. “Uh, sure. A lift would be great. But once we’re there, we have to go our separate ways,” she said in a tone that suggested she was ready for a fight on the matter. “I have to take this meeting solo.”

  “Of course. I have things to do as well. I am concerned about leaving you by yourself, though.” Understatement of the century. It was killing him to let her go anywhere without him being immediately beside her, protecting her. He’d promised his brothers he would find out if she was involved in the Drake mess, but she’d never let him go with her, so following her was his only option.

  Mitch didn’t say it, but Logan was pretty sure that it had been a close call in Europe. His brothers were important to him, more than he’d ever realized. He hated lying to Lacy about anything but if Lacy knew anything about the Drake situation, he needed to know. No matter how much he cared about her.

  Stop right there. Don’t even think it. He ground his teeth. But it was too late. He knew he cared for Lacy. He’d fallen for her long before this little adventure. His stomach knotted with a hard twist. This trip was pushing his protective streak into overdrive.

  Surprise flitted across her face before she managed to school her features. “My father’s security team will be meeting me. I’ll be fine.” Doubt shadowed her eyes but was quickly replaced with determination.

  Damn. She wasn’t sure about her own safety. He had to turn away from her. He couldn’t say what he had to and look at her. She’d know he was lying. He cleared his throat. “OK. I’m sure your father’s security team can protect you far better than I can. I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

  “I totally agree. I feel bad about leaving you like this, but if your brother wired you money, you can get on a plane and get out of here. I’ll feel much better once you’re out of danger. I feel horrible about getting you caught up in all of this.”

  He glanced back at her, and the sorrow on her face told him it was true.

  Though he knew he needed to find out if she was embroiled in the attempted theft of the prototype, her guilt about his involvement in her kidnapping was gutting him. It was like sharp knives to his conscience.

  “No need to feel bad. It all worked out.” He managed to choke out the words. “Let me just get my shoes on, and we can leave.”

  He walked back into his bedroom. As soon as he was out of sight, he steadied himself with a hand on the wall. His whole body was wracked with tension, and his every instinct was screaming at him to stay with her. To ask her the truth and confess to following her. But it wouldn’t go well. He had no way to know if she would tell him the truth, and it was damned obvious she was amazingly good at keeping secrets.

  He swallowed hard and moved forward. After grabbing his shoes from beside the bed, he turned and went back into the living room. He was feeling shittier by the minute, but he had to play it like it was all good. How did his brothers do it?

  She just stood there, eyes slightly narrowed. She smoothed her hair, which was already pulled back in a tight bun. The gesture was her tell. She was nervous.

  He wanted to grab her and hold her close, keep her safe, but he just bent to tie his shoes. He glanced at his watch. It was one of the gifts from his mother. He was beyond relieved that it still worked. “We need to get a move on if we’re going. The bank will close shortly.”

  “Of course.” Her voice was a bit stilted, but she moved toward the door without pausing. He grabbed the room key and joined her. He opened the door, ushering her through. She smelled of citrus again. How could he possibly want her this much after having had her less than an hour ago?

  Since he had called down for a car, one was waiting for them as soon as they hit the drive of the hotel. He held the door open for Lacy before walking around to the other side. His heart started to pound as the car pulled away. He could feel himself becoming hyper-aware of his surroundings, and anxiety built in his chest, constricting his lungs. Great. Now he was going to have issues taking cabs. Nothing like a little PTSD to make life more interesting. Shit.

  Glancing over at her, he could tell she was feeling the same way. “It’s OK.” He wanted to reach over and grab her hand but stopped himself. He had to keep his distance. She was his Achilles’ heel, and if he wasn’t careful, she would destroy him.

  “You didn’t check out when we left. Are you going back?” Lacy asked.

  “Ah, yes.” He wasn’t expecting her to ask questions about his plans. “I, er, can’t fly out until I get a new passport. Left mine in the safe of the original hotel. I am sure Scar has that staked out,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Right. I had forgotten about that.”

  Logan directed the driver to let them out in front of the bank, and they were deposited at the curb in record time. “So,” he said, turning to face her, “this is my stop.”

  She looked over at him. “I can’t apologize enough for everything you’ve been through. I won’t forget everything you’ve done for me.” Her eyes were very serious. It made his heart clench in his chest.

  He couldn’t help himself. Swallowing hard, he grabbed her hand. “It wasn’t all bad.” He smiled as he brought her hand up and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “As a matter of fact, I’ll remember some of it quite fondly.”

  Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink and her tongue swept in a lazy circle around her lips. His gaze followed the movement. Cursing silently, he swooped in and claimed her mouth roughly before stepping away. “See you around,” he ca
lled over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bank.

  Taking a few steps inside, he immediately plastered himself against the wall and watched her. It had damn near killed him to walk away from her so casually. He had almost ruined it with the kiss, but he’d managed it. Taking a couple deep breaths, he watched her square her shoulders and walk away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Lacy repeated the mantra as she walked away from the bank. She wasn’t sure what had just happened. She felt summarily dismissed. Not that she wanted Logan with her. It was far better, safer, for him to head home. So why did she feel like crying?

  Exhaustion. She was exhausted and stressed out, and it was playing tricks on her emotions. Once this was all sorted out, she would be able to put this situation in perspective. Sighing, she smoothed her hair back in its bun and headed toward the first marker.

  Long ago, when she was just a teen on one of her boarding school vacations in Nassau, her father had created this plan. It was a plan between the two of them. If something happened to him—if he died—the flag at a particular corner store would fly at half-mast.

  She’d asked if he’d cooked up the idea with his security team, but he’d said no. They’d created the pick-up plan if she was in trouble, but they knew nothing about the flag.

  She guessed that whoever owned the store was a friend or had some sort of inside knowledge, otherwise how would they know to lower the flag? She’d asked him about that as well, but he’d brushed her off. Told her it wasn’t important, but she could trust in the flag.

  So whenever she was worried about him but unable to contact him directly, she could come and check. She couldn’t go in and ask questions—no one inside would know the answers—but always trust the flag.

  Walking toward that corner store now, it all sounded so ridiculous, so make-believe, but what choice did she have? She approached from the side of the store, but the flag was out front. She wouldn’t know until she rounded the corner.

  About ten steps from the corner, her courage waned. What if it was half-mast? She took a deep breath. She would deal with it. She would deal with whatever came, just like her father had taught her.

  She turned the corner and slapped a palm on the gritty bricks of the building, her breath coming easier for the first time since she’d left Logan at the bank. The flag was limping along in the slight breeze at full-mast. Saying a silent but fervent prayer of thanks, she walked past the store. A huge weight lifted off her shoulders, making her steps light and springy.

  The way she’d felt while walking toward the store, not knowing whether the flag would be up or down… Life was too damn short for this kind of cloak and dagger stuff. She wanted her dad around for her wedding.

  Whoa. She wasn’t sure where that thought had come from, but she liked the idea of setting roots, having a family. She had a flash of what it would be like to share a place with Logan back in New York. She’d have her event planning business; he’d have his restaurant. Maybe they could even work together on events.

  Don’t go crazy, she warned herself. Still, there was a bit more pep in her step as she made her way toward the port where the cruise ships were docked. She was looking for her father’s head of security—specifically, at the tables on the cruise ship docks where the ladies did hair braiding. Omar would come twice a day at 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. until she made contact. Glancing at the time displayed on one of the store fronts she was passing, she realized she had better get a move on if she wanted to make the 5 p.m. pick up.

  A short while later, she mixed in with the cruise crowd and wandered in the direction of the tables. She scanned the crowd but didn’t see Omar. She decided to stick with the crowds. She didn’t want to stand out just in case Scar or his people were looking for her in the vicinity. She wandered in and out of the little shops, keeping an eye on the tables, but Omar wasn’t there.

  Something caught her eye. A little chef’s hat magnet. It was perfect for Logan. A little something to remind him of his dream that no one else would notice. She noted which stand it was so she could come back later.

  There was a group of ladies standing just outside of a shop, having a cool drink. Lacy wandered over and stood a few feet away, as if she’d just come out of the shop, too. One of the ladies noticed her and smiled. She took this as a good sign and started chatting with the group.

  She asked them about the cruise and if they were enjoying it. She kept a careful eye on the crowd, but there was no sign of Scar or his gang, and no one was taking any undue interest in her.

  The crowd of ladies started to move, and she moved with them. As they approached the tables, she broke away. She was tired, and since no one was interested in her, she decided sitting wouldn’t hurt.

  Suddenly, a hand grabbed her and hauled her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but a familiar voice said, “I don’t think you want to do that.”

  She whipped her head around.

  “Just keep pretending to be part of the crowd. Sitting still makes you too vulnerable and easy to spot.”

  “Logan, what are you doing here?” she ground out.

  “Keeping an eye on you.”

  She was furious and relieved and happy and sad, all at the same time. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  “We did, but I decided you were wrong.”

  Anger won out. She wanted to reach out and strangle him right then and there. “I can take care of myself.” She wrenched her arm away from his grip.

  “Possibly, but I wasn’t willing to take the risk. Also, I’m guessing your father wouldn’t be too pleased with me if I left you to your own devices without making sure you’re safe. I have no desire to get on his bad side. Now, why don’t you fill me in on your plan? You said you were meeting someone here?”

  They were approaching the ship, so they would lose the crowd soon. Lacy pushed Logan toward a bench and yanked him down on it. She held his arm tightly forcing him to stay put. She was so angry she could scream. He was acting like a domineering asshole. Maybe she had been right about him all along. Fixing him with a deadly stare, she was about to tell him off when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. Omar. He had come to take her to her father, and the whole thing was moot.

  Logan was free to go.

  Ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach, she got up from the bench and said, “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you can go now. My ride is here. I’m safe.” She headed back in the direction of the tables where Omar was waiting.

  Logan easily caught up with her and slid an arm around her waist, the contact sending a jolt of electricity right down to her center, which immediately tightened. Damn him. She cursed a blue streak in her head as he made her slow down and blend in with the crowd.

  “Since everything’s going according to plan, why don’t you tell me what’s supposed to happen?” He tightened the arm that was around her and kept his head on a swivel, his eyes dancing over the crowd. It angered her how it made her feel safer, stronger.

  “The guy at the beginning of the pier dressed in jeans and a white shirt. The one with the buzz cut. That’s Omar, my father’s head of security. He’s here to pick me up.”

  “I see.” The muscles jumped in his jaw. He guided her over to one of the stands. “Why don’t we just stay here and watch for a couple of minutes? He’ll be there for a while.”

  She wanted to argue, but she was exhausted. She just didn’t have any energy to waste on arguing with him. “Fine, I’ll stand here and pretend to look at hats and sunglasses for a bit, but it’s really not necessary.”

  He plunked a hat on her head. “I think it is.” He smiled at her and then shifted around her so he had a better view.

  For twenty minutes, they stayed immersed in the crowd, carefully tucked out of Omar’s line of sight. No obvious problems jumped out at her and, apparently, Logan didn’t see anything either since he didn’t mention it.

  The crowds started to thin, meaning that th
eir presence was about to get a whole lot more obvious. “Logan, it’s time for me to go. I really do appreciate you coming back to check on me.” She hesitated. “Maybe we could grab dinner or something back in the city.” When he didn’t respond, she continued in a rush. “I totally owe you, so it’ll be on me.”

  “Uh-huh.” He wasn’t paying attention to anything she was saying.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m going now.” She turned on her heel and started to stalk off, but he whirled her around and kissed her. She wanted to resist, but it was too damn good. Finally tearing her lips away, she managed a strangled, “What are you doing?”

  “Hiding you.” He grabbed her arm and started marching her away from the tables.

  “Wait! What do you mean ‘hiding’ me? I don’t need to hide. Omar is right there!” She pointed in the general direction of the tables.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. All the while his teeth were clenched. “Don’t point or do anything to draw attention this way,” he said. “Just follow my lead and walk quickly.”

  “But—”

  “You can argue with me later. Right now, you need to listen!”

  He all but dragged her through the thinning crowd until they reached the line of shops abutting the pier. He practically threw her through the open door of the first one. It was a knick-knack shop full of shells and T-shirts, touristy stuff. Logan pulled Lacy to the window.

  The only other customers were an elderly couple inside, and she could hear them arguing about the color and size of a T-shirt for their grandson.

  The old man was shaking his head. “He is not going to wear the purple one, Gladys.”

  Lacy continued to scan the street in front of the shop, mindlessly paying attention to the argument behind her, but wildly aware of Logan’s tense body standing so close to her.

  “Why not? What’s wrong with purple?” The woman lowered the shirt she held to glare at the old gentleman across from her. “I think he would look good in purple.”