No Chance in Hell

by Jerrie Alexander

  That they were talking casually about her father’s death pushed Chris’s heart to the back of her throat. She understood the need to go over everything, but that didn’t lessen the hurt. “Marcus, my dad died three years ago, Mom six months later, and then Chelsea.” Chris swallowed hard. “Both my mother and father were cremated.” Diablo must have sensed her stress. He abandoned the throw rug he’d claimed as his temporary bed, walked over, and put his head on her knee.

  “I had to ask,” Marcus said.

  “Chris?” Dalton asked.

  “I’m here.” Stroking the dog’s head helped, enabling her to speak calmly.

  “Had your mother been taking tranquilizers long?”

  “Her doctor prescribed something after Dad’s death.”

  “Okay. I’ll dig deeper into her records tomorrow after I get to Dallas.”

  “Thank you.” She stood, walked to the back door, and pulled the curtain aside. A long wooden dock sat within steps of the cabin. The water rippled and danced under the bright sunlight. The movement was relaxing and peaceful.

  Marcus’s strong hands encircled her waist. His chin rested on top of her head. She’d been so distracted by the lake that she hadn’t heard the conversation end. She leaned against his rock-hard chest and breathed in his strength.

  “I wish I could make this easier for you.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Think you should rest for a while?” he asked.

  “No. My brain is working at warp speed. Resting isn’t an option.”

  “Okay. I’m taking Diablo out. We’ll be right out front by the tree. I’ll leave the door open so you can see us.”

  Chris nodded and returned to the back door. The water gently lapping at the bank was mesmerizing. She should have gone with Marcus. Spending a few minutes in the fresh air might help her clear her head. She took her pistol from her purse, slipped it into the waistband of her jeans, and then stepped out onto the small porch. Before venturing any farther, she looked around. Either this was a slow time of year or everybody was on the lake fishing, because she didn’t see a single person.

  With a couple of steps, she stood at the water’s edge. The lake, the trees, and the blissful quiet engulfed her, giving her a moment’s peace.

  A hand clamped over her mouth, and an arm grabbed her from behind. She was lifted off the ground.

  A deep, angry voice said, “What the hell were you thinking? Oh, wait. You weren’t.”

  “Put me down,” she commanded, and he complied. Feet firmly on the ground, she whirled on him. “Why did you sneak up on me? I could have shot you.”

  Angry brown eyes stared down at her. “How did you plan to pull that off with your feet dangling a foot off the ground and your gun pressed into my belly?”

  Chris backed away from Marcus’s anger. “That was a dirty trick.”

  “Don’t try to guilt trip me.”

  “You were right out front.”

  “And you needed to understand just how easily the killer could get to you. Granted, I’m fairly sure we weren’t followed. But there’s no guarantee.” Marcus advanced two menacing steps. “You could have told me you wanted to walk out here. Hell, you’d have been safer if you’d brought Diablo. A stranger would be more reluctant to come near you with him along.”

  “I made a mistake. You don’t have to get so mad.”

  Marcus’s eyes closed, and he pulled in a deep breath. When their gazes met again, he smiled. “I’m not mad. But anytime you get careless, I’m going to be scared shitless.”

  Chapter 19

  DaVinci fumbled with his fork, spilling rice on the tablecloth. The simple act of picking up an eating utensil sent pain shooting through his fingers. Scrubbing his swollen knuckles, applying ointment, and then wrapping them in gauze had been a painful experience.

  “Would you like a bowl of soup?” Michelangelo asked. His patronizing tone grated on DaVinci’s already frayed nerves.

  “No.” He motioned the waiter to take his plate away. “Why didn’t you stop me before I injured my hands?”

  “My boy. At the time, you were drunk and insane. I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t lash out at me.”

  “When we talked on the phone, you mentioned you know people who’d help us with Christine. Exactly who are they and what do you have in mind?” DaVinci’s patience was stretched tightly. His mentor’s lack of concern that they might have left DNA or other evidence at the motel taxed his nerves even further.

  “They are specialists in locating and eliminating people.”

  “And how did you come to be acquainted with this group?”

  “Do you think I’ve been selling your faux masterpiece paintings to museums? This country has produced some high-class criminals with expensive tastes. They like to impress their friends and business associates while not paying the price of an original. You and I provide them with art pieces to furnish their private collections.”

  “Fine. I want to know where she’s hiding, how many people are guarding her, and when it will be easiest to take her.” Using Michelangelo’s contacts meant if things went bad, he’d take the fall. Could DaVinci go it alone? “No one is to touch her. That includes you. Understand?”

  “Customers are staring. Lower your voice before we’re asked to leave.”

  DaVinci clenched his jaw to keep from shouting. “I don’t like this side of you. Makes me wonder who you really are behind that cavalier attitude. We do this my way or you’re out.”

  “My boy,” Michelangelo said softly. “I haven’t changed. You have. Your youthful enthusiasm has been replaced by an out-of-control, hate-driven fanaticism. No harm will come to Christine. You have my word.”

  ****

  Chris washed dishes while Marcus dried them. She’d peeled the potatoes for the home fries, and he’d handled the scrambled eggs, but they’d worked and eaten in silence. She could stay mad if it meant she’d exercise more caution. A sharp pain stabbed him in the heart if he even thought about her falling into the hands of the crazy bastard.

  He tossed the kitchen towel onto the counter. “Diablo ate more eggs than either of us. I’d better take him outside.”

  Chris had gone back to her research when he and the dog returned. Diablo, belly full and body refreshed, trotted over to a throw rug and dropped like a rock. Marcus took out his tablet from the protective sleeve, turned it on, and resumed his search right where he’d left off.

  “Want a cup of coffee?” Her voice relaxed the tension that seemed to have taken up residence between his shoulders.

  He lifted his head, catching her gaze. The sparkle in her blue eyes was returning. “You buying?”

  “Will it work as a peace offering?” A smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

  The memory of kissing her until she sighed flashed through his mind, sending blood rushing south. Her lips were supple, giving, and so damn tasty. He could’ve kissed her for days, just exploring and enjoying her. The image of her taking his erection deep inside her mouth slammed into him. He blinked, hoping his thoughts weren’t written all over his face.

  “Well? Yes or no.” She chuckled, reading his mind too easily. He knew it by the raised eyebrow and the darkening of her eyes. Lust on Chris was a beautiful thing.

  “Yes,” he answered. No way could he stand up without revealing the evidence that thinking about sex with her had left on his body.

  Soon, the ancient coffeepot groaned and began to sputter fluid into the carafe.

  “Locating these records takes longer than I expected.” She returned to the table and opened the next file on the stack.

  “Faster downloads would help,” he agreed. “You can barely call this Wi-Fi. The pages couldn’t load much slower.”

  “More speed would be good. That and a bigger screen. My eyes are crossing.”

  He wouldn’t describe their small talk as interesting, but it qualified as an improvement over not speaking at all. So when the coffeepot beeped, he put down his tablet and fixed two cups. “
Let’s walk down to the end of the dock. An old bench sits on the far side of the gas pump. We can watch the sun set over the water.”

  “Should we take Diablo?” she asked.

  “He’ll never forgive us if we don’t.” He looked down at his dog. “Come on, boy.” Marcus adjusted his Glock and followed Chris outside.

  The walk down the dock felt good. His hand itched to slide around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instead, he thoroughly scanned the camp. The breeze was light, and for late afternoon, the cove was quiet. The angle of the sun banked off her face and hair, giving her an unnatural glow. He liked Chris, probably too much.

  “So, you’re not mad at me anymore for scaring you?” He sat on the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him.

  She joined him, sitting close with their thighs touching. “Hard for me to be mad, since I was in the wrong. I let myself get caught up in the beauty of the lake. It was a dumb move, and you reminded me this wasn’t a weekend getaway.”

  Marcus put his arm around her. He wanted to tell her that after this was over, he’d bring her back for a vacation if she wished. That thought ended when she slipped off her shoes and climbed down to sit on the edge of the dock.

  “I have to dip my toes in.” She scooted even closer to the edge of the dock then stuck her feet in the lake.

  “You probably shouldn’t wiggle your toes too much,” he teased as he moved behind her. He spread his legs, placing her between his thighs. Diablo trotted to the end of the dock and drop down like a log.

  “Why not?”

  “This lake is known for monster catfish. I’d hate to have one think you were dinner.”

  “Stop it. I’m not afraid of a fish.” She leaned against his chest and sighed.

  Marcus kept their surroundings in mind, but at the same time, he memorized the sound of her sigh. When this was over, and she was safe and at peace with the world, he might never hear it again.

  They stayed until the sun dropped out of sight. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

  “We need to go inside.”

  “Yeah.” He stood to help her up just as Diablo ran straight past them and took a long leap into the water.

  Chris squealed with laughter as water splashed on them both. “He’s a water dog,” she said in between peals of laughter.

  “News to me.” Marcus joined her laughter as Diablo discovered the water was shallow. He jumped on every leaf that drifted past. After a few minutes, Marcus picked up her shoes and guided her back to the front of the dock. Diablo came bounding out of the lake, stopped and shook water everywhere. Marcus caught him by the collar and said, “Grab a towel and toss it to me.”

  Chris did better than toss a towel. She returned with two and helped dry the big mutt. She knelt and even wiped the dog’s paws.

  “I hope he appreciates you.” Marcus found himself laughing again when Diablo rewarded her with a face lick.

  “He knows who loves him.”

  She was wet, muddy, and radiant looking up at him. The sun had almost disappeared, but Marcus felt the sunshine in his soul. “Now you’re the one with wet feet.” He scooped her into his arms.

  “Marcus,” she whispered against his neck. “Look at me.”

  He turned his head toward her, and she kissed him. Her hands filtered through his short hair and her fingers gripped his head, holding him to her. All rational thought abandoned him. He took control, exploring the sweet taste and warmth of her mouth.

  How they managed to get themselves and Diablo inside would forever remain a mystery, but Marcus closed the door, locked it, and then turned her to straddle his hips. Her legs wrapped tightly around him.

  “Am I always going to be the one who makes the first move?” She nipped at the corners of his mouth, driving him crazy.

  “You talk too much.” He took the towels from her and tossed them into the kitchen sink. Then he caught the corners of her blouse and lifted the soft material off her, dropping it where they stood.

  All that separated him from her lush, full breasts was a flesh-colored bra. He considered ripping it off. She laughed and quickly removed it, adding it the growing pile on the floor.

  “You’re a mind reader, too?” he asked, lowering his head to stroke her nipple with his tongue.

  “Maybe.” Her voice had deepened, lusty and short of breath.

  “Then what am I going to do next?” Before she could answer, he slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her up so that her nipple was within his reach, pebbled and ripe for him. He sucked the tip into his mouth, rolling and nipping. When she moaned, he swapped to the other breast. Jesus, the woman smelled and tasted like heaven.

  “You’re going to put me down,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I can’t undress you until you do.” She relaxed her legs.

  “You’re going to undress me?”

  “I am.”

  “Hold that thought.” He swung her back into his arms. The sun had completely disappeared, so he snapped on the kitchen light and then carried her up the stairs to the only bed in the house. He slipped his hands under her arms and slowly slid her down until her feet touched the floor.

  “That gun was in the way while my legs were wrapped around you. Why don’t you put it on the nightstand?”

  “Done.” He did as she requested and then reached for her, wanting to get back to enjoying her beautiful breasts.

  Chris took his arms and pushed them to his sides. “No touching while I’m at work.” Her tone was firm, but her eyes sparkled with fun. “Okay?”

  “Okay, but I’ve never been into the master and submissive lifestyle. So if you think you’re going to spank me, you should know that I’ll spank back.”

  “I might be bossy, but I’m not into pain.” Her small hands slipped under his shirt and up his chest. She caught his nipples and tweaked them. She lifted his shirt over his head, one inch at a time. “You’re a gorgeous man, Marcus Ricci.”

  “We’ve had this conversation. You’ve cornered that market.”

  “You really don’t know.” She raked a fingernail across his nipple. “I like that.”

  “How much longer do I have to stand like a kid waiting for the principal to tell me I can move?”

  “Such impatience.” She went to work on his belt.

  His erection had been pushed against his zipper far too long, and he sighed with relief as she pulled his jeans down. Standing with his hands to his sides proved to be more difficult than he’d imagined. Chris, naked from the waist up, was like setting a glass of water in front of a man dying of thirst and telling him he couldn’t have a drink.

  “Sit on the bed so I can get your boots off.”

  He complied and considered letting her try to remove them. Instead, he toed them off then smiled up at her. “You didn’t say I couldn’t use my legs or feet.”

  With that, he wrapped his legs around her and pulled her on top of him. She landed with a squeal.

  Laughing, they forgot her mandate. He rolled her under him, sat back on his knees, and made quick work of the rest of her clothes. He stopped and feasted his eyes on her. Marcus trailed his hand across her creamy skin, pausing at her core. She lifted her hips, enabling him to easily slide a finger inside her wet heat. Her gaze dropped to watch him. Damn, he wished he was better at saying the sexy stuff she probably wanted to hear. Instead, he went with the truth. “It should be against the law to cover this body with clothes.”

  “You talk too much.” She turned his own words on him and then cupped his face with her hands. “I need you to make love to me. Now.”

  “But—” There was so much more he wanted to do for her.

  “Now.”

  “I try to never argue with a lady.” He quickly covered himself and returned to her. “You’re the boss. Remember?” He pulled her astride him.

  Chris rose above him, grasped his erection, and guided him to her body. Slowly, she lowered herself until every inch of him was seated de
ep inside. Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back. For a few seconds, neither of them moved.

  She leaned forward. Brought her lips to his. That one simple movement of her hips sent him barreling toward the edge. No way was he coming too soon. He’d count backward, study the pattern on the curtains, or repeat his license number in his head. This was about her pleasure.

  She rocked back and forth, her hips undulating slowly at first. She moaned and picked up speed, giving Marcus the cue to move. He caught her hips in his hands and met her stroke for stroke. Her hair swung free and her eyes closed as she lost herself in pleasure. Pleasure he could give her.

  “Marcus,” she whispered, bearing down on him, her contractions pulsing around him.

  Her spasms broke his restraint. He tightened his grip and pounded into her until nothing existed but the two of them. His groan filled the room as he exploded. She collapsed on top of him, as both of them gasped for breath.

  In the silence, they were one.

  It had happened too fast. Next time, he’d make love to her nice and slow.

  Diablo’s growl brought Marcus crashing back to earth. The loft gave him the perfect view of the cabin floor except for the back door. The dog was on his feet facing that direction. He didn’t have to tell Chris to stay quiet. She’d slipped off the bed and moved out of the line of vision of anyone on the lower level. Marcus slid on his jeans quietly and palmed his Glock.

  “What is it, boy?” No way did he want the dog involved in a fight. He’d worked too hard to wipe those ideas from Diablo’s mind. He walked to the railing but saw nothing. “I’m going down.”

  Whatever had disturbed Diablo had to be outside. The cabin was one big room with no place to hide except the bathroom. He jogged downstairs and looked around. Nothing. “Chris,” he said. “I’m going out.”

  “Hang on. I’m coming.” She hurried down the stairs to join him, grabbing her gun from her purse after handing off his things.

  “Come,” he called Diablo to his side. “We’ll be right back.” A trip around the cabin then down the dock and back revealed nothing. The dog didn’t sense danger, so they went indoors.

  “No telling what he heard. I didn’t see anything.”