Under Pressure

by Lori Foster

  Perhaps Miles was right. She needed to state her case a little differently.

  When the tap sounded on the door, her heart shot into her throat.

  A second later, a key sounded in the lock and the door swung open.

  Leese stood there, his gaze locked on them both. Slowly he stepped in and set a large pizza box on the foyer table, then dragged in a suitcase, a few bags and...

  Oh. Dear. God. He had her lockbox.

  Miles stood from the couch. “Is that pizza I smell?”

  Leese’s gaze never left Cat. “I promised you dinner.” He pushed the door closed and folded his arms. “So. What did I miss?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WASN’T EASY to keep his attention off Catalina, especially when she looked miserable, guilty and mortified all at the same time.

  From the second he’d stepped in, she’d been blushing.

  Not because Miles had been rubbing her legs either. He swallowed back the growl that automatically came each time that particular image crawled back into his brain.

  Miles’s casual “muscle massage” explanation had covered the scenario. Neither of them had looked involved beyond that, so despite his surge of possessive jealousy, Leese let it go.

  In fact, he acted like it hadn’t bothered him at all.

  He should win a freakin’ Oscar.

  “Did you fill up on popcorn?” Leese asked her, seeing her pick at the crust.

  “No.” She took a bite, her eyes wide and cautious and not meeting his.

  Miles refused to note the tension and instead dug into his pizza. “Gotta tell you, Leese. I was expecting home-cooked. But this is good.”

  With his attention still on Cat’s flushed cheeks, he shrugged. “I figured now that you’re between fights, you could indulge a little.”

  “Yeah.” Miles wolfed down a slice in two big bites. “What’s the rest of that stuff?”

  Cat choked.

  Feeling unaccountably tender, Leese reached over and rubbed her back. “Chew your food.”

  She glared, went redder in the cheeks and looked away again.

  It was sort of sweet that she was so embarrassed. He couldn’t do a damn thing about it until after Miles left, which probably wouldn’t happen for another hour or so.

  He could have left the lockbox behind, but after finding people in her house, he decided it might save her embarrassment by bringing it along.

  What if someone else, one of the damned thugs, had opened it?

  “I went shopping,” he said, to answer Miles’s question. “I’ll put it all away in a little bit.”

  “I’ll do it,” Cat offered, ready to leave her seat.

  Leese stopped her. “I’d rather you didn’t. Some guns are mixed in, a knife and a Taser.”

  Her wide eyes rounded even more.

  “No kidding?” Miles looked toward the pile again. “Sounds like a story I want to hear.”

  Leese wasn’t sure about revealing too much to Miles, so he censored the story a little. “I had to check on a house—”

  “My house,” Cat growled, her eyes narrowed. “And I thought we agreed you wouldn’t.”

  Maybe, Leese thought, the new topic would help her to forget about her “toy.”

  “It’s a good thing I did, because a few goons showed up.”

  Worry rivaled rage, and finally she demanded, “Who?”

  Letting her know it wasn’t Tesh or the buffoons who’d been with him, Leese said, “No one I recognized.”

  Some of the tension loosened from her shoulders. “What did you do?”

  “I disarmed them.” He glanced at Miles. “And since I didn’t have time to stick around for an interrogation with the police, I bound their hands and feet, took their weapons, wallets and cell phones, cut their clothes off them and dumped them out the back door in the snow, in their boxers.”

  “Ha!” Dropping back in his seat, Miles cracked up. “Frostbite, dude. That’s harsh.”

  Wearing his own grin, Leese explained, “They were flopping around like fish when I locked up and left. I figure they’ll get loose before they freeze. Ought to be interesting to see how they get home though. I drove their car back to where I’d left mine a few blocks away, but they won’t know where to find it, if it’s even still there. I left it unlocked with the keys in it.”

  “Diabolical,” Miles praised. “I can see why you prefer this shit to fighting. It sounds like it’s a lot more fun.”

  Less amused, Cat quietly asked, “Now what?”

  “I have their wallets, so I’ll share the details with Sahara’s PI.” He thought about that, then said, “And I might do a little research too, see if I can make any connections.”

  As if expecting the worst, she slowly closed her eyes. “How was the house?”

  He sent Miles a look, letting him know to play it easy. “The walk was shoveled.”

  Her eyes popped open. “Really?”

  “Most of your mail was gone too. Only the past week’s worth or so was on the floor. I brought it with me.”

  Puzzling over that, her gaze drifted away.

  “Electric still on, water running. The curtains were all pulled.”

  She said nothing.

  “Other than a few dead plants—” and an audio bug in your lamp “—everything seemed okay.”

  Her face fell. “My plants are dead?”

  That’s what bothered her most? He looked at Miles and saw his friend bite off a grin.

  “I’ll buy you new plants.”

  She let out a heavy breath. “No, it’s okay.”

  He knew that, but did she? The fact that people had intruded into her home, not just the assholes from today, but whoever had been collecting her mail, would have to leave her feeling even more helpless.

  On the drive home, he’d called Sahara and given her details from the drivers’ licenses. They were likely fake, but who knew? He’d chase down every detail he could.

  By morning, Sahara’s people should have some news for him. Until then, there wasn’t much either of them could do.

  When Miles gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, she smiled her gratitude at him.

  He’s a friend, Leese reminded himself. You trust him. But jealousy had a way of destroying logic.

  “So,” Leese said. “That was my day. Now let’s hear about yours.” He tried a smile that felt just a little like a warning. “Other than massages, what’d you two do?”

  Eyes back on her pizza, Cat said, “Watched fight videos and talked about you.”

  Shifting his gaze to Miles, Leese asked, “Is that right? What’d you tell her?”

  “That you were a shithead when I first met you.” He grinned. “But you’re okay now.”

  Leese felt Cat watching him. “I can’t really disagree, now can I?” He hated the truth, but he wouldn’t run from it, and he wouldn’t lie. Back then, he’d been a punk—a punk who almost got a very nice girl hurt. It still sickened him to remember it.

  Going serious, Miles said, “It was short-lived, and hey, we’ve all been there a time or two.”

  “Not all.”

  “Okay, so Cannon is a saint. He’s also out of the norm, so he doesn’t count. The rest of us have had our moments.”

  “Cannon?” Cat asked. “He’s one of the fighters, right?”

  “Cannon Colter. His nickname is Saint,” Miles explained, “and it suits him. He’s a freaking paragon, and a hell of a great fighter.”

  “It is such a fascinating world,” she said, and then to Leese, “But you’re so good at everything, I can’t imagine you not being perfect too.”

  He laughed.

  Miles said, “Had the same reaction. You’ve got the poor girl completely deluded.” He gave L
eese a friendly shove. “You should probably keep it more real than that, let her know you’re a flesh-and-blood male.” He winked at Cat, then pushed back his chair and stood. “Time for me to go. I have a long drive home.”

  “Thanks for coming by,” Leese told him. “Appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” After pressing a kiss to Cat’s cheek, he said to Leese, “Keep up the massage, it seemed to help.”

  Refusing to take the bait, Leese walked him to the door. Voice low, he said, “Watch your back when you leave. I don’t think anyone’s keeping track, but you can’t be too careful.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “I’m serious.”

  Miles studied him, then nodded. “Okay, sure. I guess I can play the stealth game, same as you.” He looked past Leese to where Cat had begun tidying the kitchen. “She’s nice, Leese. Pretty hilarious too.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And like you said, damned sexy.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t underestimate her, okay?”

  What the hell did that mean?

  Whistling, Miles pressed the door button on the private elevator that would take him to the lobby, and the doors closed behind him, robbing Leese of the opportunity to come up with a reply.

  Thoughts colliding, he stepped back into the penthouse and secured the door. For a moment, he watched Cat moving around. True, she seemed less stiff now, her gait a little more natural.

  Massage, huh? Yeah, he could handle that—maybe.

  He joined her and they worked in silence until everything was tidy again. Not wanting to wait any longer, Leese said, “Let’s talk.”

  Her face immediately went hot, her expression guarded.

  “Not...” Sighing, he took her hand and led her to the sofa. They could talk about the contents of the lockbox later. Right now he had something more important he wanted to cover. “I found a listening device—a bug—in your apartment, inside the lampshade in the living room.”

  The embarrassed color washed from her face, leaving her pale with shock, yet a second later angry heat flooded in again. “Those bastards were spying on me?”

  “It’s probably safe to assume they put it there after you busted them conspiring, not before. My guess is they assumed you’d eventually return there, and when you did they wanted to know.”

  Her jaw worked. “So if I had, they’d have greeted me?”

  It turned his stomach to imagine her at their mercy. He kept the rage in check because Cat needed his calm control right now, not additional fuel for her fear. “That’s the likeliest scenario. But they misjudged you, didn’t they? At every turn, you’ve outsmarted them.”

  “I can’t run forever. Eventually they’re going to catch up to me.”

  “No.” He held her face in his hands. “Eventually they’ll trip up and be caught.”

  Sadness kept her smile dim. “Maybe. I hope so. But God, I want it over.”

  “I know. And I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks. “Even if that means doing things you don’t like.”

  Straightening with irritation, she poked his shoulder. “Like going to my house after we agreed you wouldn’t?”

  “I never agreed to that.”

  She grumbled, “Well, you should have.” With new umbrage she muttered, “You could have been shot today.”

  “Not even close.” When would she accept his skill level?

  She touched his chest with her fingertips, then slowly opened her hand against him. Finally she lifted her gaze to his. “Do you think they’re still in my yard?”

  “I doubt it, but if they are, they’re probably sharing body heat.”

  That nonsense answer, meant to defuse her worry, got her started snickering, and then she couldn’t stop.

  Hysterics? Leese wondered, even as he smiled with her.

  “Picturing that,” she said around her chuckles. “I hope parts of them freeze off.” With new hilarity, she fell against him, her shoulders shaking with her robust laughter.

  Leese put his arms around her.

  Hysterics or not, this was nice, a hell of a lot nicer than her looking so lost.

  He didn’t mean to bring it up so abruptly, but as he stroked his fingers through her silky brown hair, it just came out. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

  That ended her giggles real quick. Stiffening, she tried to shove back from him but he held on.

  Trying to reassure her, he said gently, “Every woman I know has a—”

  “Don’t say it!”

  The smile played with his mouth, but he kept it contained with an effort. “Okay,” he soothed. “Just know that it’s not a big deal.”

  She groaned, long and loud.

  Leese squeezed her, and couldn’t resist just a little teasing. “I am curious about one thing.”

  Another groan, this one more heartfelt.

  “Why did you lock it up, but leave your gun out in the drawer?”

  After a huff of breath, she mumbled something indecipherable against his sternum.

  “What’s that?” He tried to tip her back, but now she was the one holding tight. “I can’t hear you.”

  Shoving back suddenly, she took him by surprise and surged to her feet. Her face looked scalded, making her accusing blue eyes brighter by comparison. “I don’t want anyone knowing my private business, that’s why it was locked up. And I kept the gun close so I could shoot anyone who snooped.”

  Fighting another grin, Leese cautiously stood in front of her. “So the gun was strictly to protect the locked up—”

  “Ohhhh...” she growled, snapping away from him and stalking away. “Just be quiet!”

  “I think you’re adorable.” Following on her heels, Leese caught her elbow, turned her and pinned her to the wall. When she turned her mulish gaze up to him, he fought the urge to kiss her attitude away. “I also got you some of your own clothes, shoes, books, art supplies—”

  Her gaze shot to the door where he’d left the luggage. “That’s what all that is?”

  “And the weapons and lockbox, yeah.”

  She dropped her forehead to his sternum. “You know, just because you don’t want to have sex, you didn’t need to bring that.”

  “What?” he teased. He’d love to hear her say it.

  She glanced up at him. “I can promise you, it’s not a substitute.”

  Well, hell. Now he was envisioning all sorts of things. As briefly as he could manage, he kissed her. “There were men in your house, honey. Who knows if more will show up, and if they’ll search the place looking for a clue about where you’ve gone.” Another kiss, this one a little longer. “I didn’t want anyone else knowing your personal business.”

  “You’re right.” She hugged her arms around him. “Thank you.”

  Heart and resistance melting, Leese said, “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m very glad you weren’t hurt.”

  “Not even a scratch,” he assured her.

  “Thank you too, for getting rid of the bug and the jerks.”

  Against her temple, he said, “That was my pleasure.”

  “Leese?”

  He liked her agreeable like this, all soft and sweet, especially after the show of anger. “Hmm?”

  Slipping her arms up and around his neck, she said, “We need to talk.”

  Not what he was expecting at this particular moment, but he’d take it. “About the other men who were with Webb?”

  She screwed up her expression and sighed. “You have a one-track mind.”

  He felt her hands traveling down his back and said, “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

  Lips quirking, she agreed. “True enough.” She stepped him back and held out a hand, palm up.

 
Leese lifted a brow in query.

  “The key.”

  Oh, right. He dug it out of his pocket and placed it in her palm. “About that talk...?”

  “It’ll wait.” Her fist closed tight around the key. “I’d rather put away my things—and no, I do not need your help.”

  * * *

  WEBB STOOD INSIDE the private horse stables of Senator Platt, his irritation growing by the second. What was he, a fucking lackey? How dare the senator order him here and then keep him waiting?

  Tesh watched him, his thoughts cloaked, his mood as touchy as ever. There was a time that Webb considered him reliable, capable and even somewhat trustworthy. Less than two months ago, but it felt like decades.

  The stable smelled of horse sweat, leather and hay. Tack hung on the walls, but no one else intruded. Likely the senator had told them all to stay away.

  As one of the richest and most powerful men in politics, his orders were always followed to the letter.

  Except that Catalina had dared to defy him.

  Tesh glanced out a window, then murmured, “Here he comes now.”

  Thank God. Already Webb felt as if he might crawl out of his own skin. He liked to be the one in charge. He enjoyed mingling with the movers and shakers. Exchanging favors, no problem. Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous—it’s what he did.

  But this bullshit, jumping at someone’s beck and call, damn it, he should have been above that.

  Platt stepped in flanked by two bodyguards. The protective detail wore faces void of compassion, flesh-and-blood robots ready to do the senator’s bidding, whatever it might be.

  Murder, of course, was not off the table.

  “Senator,” Webb said, taking one hand from the pocket of his coat and extending it.

  Platt smiled as he accepted the greeting.

  He was in his late sixties, his frame tall and thin, his accent Southern, his smile warm. Such a ruse.

  The senator was a perverted son of a bitch, but no one knew that. Or rather, anyone who had learned it was later found dead.

  None of that boded well for Webb, since not only was he aware of the senator’s proclivities, but his daughter knew what had happened on that cursed island.