by Lori Foster
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
Leese felt his ribs ache at the memory. “I tried not to tell them anything, but—”
She touched his mouth. “You were drugged.”
“Yeah.” But if he’d been smarter, he wouldn’t have found himself in that situation. “I don’t know what they gave me, but I couldn’t fight back. It was like my legs wouldn’t work. I woke up that next morning and realized how badly I’d fucked up. Going to her boyfriend was the only thing I could think of to do.”
A sheen of tears softened her blue eyes. “You are the most remarkable man.”
Taken aback, Leese said, “How the hell do you figure that?” Jesus, he’d given her no reason to cry. “I just told you—”
“That you owned up to things,” she finished for him. “And you corrected what you could. Very few ever do that. But even though she’d rejected you, you faced her boyfriend, explained what had happened and tried to help her.”
Maybe. But in his heart, Leese knew that didn’t exonerate him.
Sniffling, smiling at him with admiration, Cat asked, “Did it all work out for her?”
Leese occupied himself by cupping her breasts; it was easier than seeing her tears. “Yeah, it did.” No thanks to him.
“And the guy she married? How did he take it, when you told him your role in things?”
That was the part that had always stunned him the most. “Instead of being pissed and stomping me—which he could have done—he thanked me, involved me, confided in me, and his friends, her friends, made me a part of that group.” It had been a life-changing moment. “It felt good, being on the honorable side of things.”
“You know what I think?”
Given her starry-eyed infatuation, he could guess.
“You were always honorable. It’s just that sometimes we aren’t tested, so how can we really know? Most of us go through our lives with mundane problems that are easily resolved if we don’t dwell in melodrama. But some people face life-and-death situations, and they come away with proof of their convictions.” She searched his face. “You, Leese Phelps, now have proof.”
He’d never really thought of it that way. “Part of my learning curve involved admitting that fighting wasn’t for me. I’m good, but I knew I’d never be the best, so what would be the point?”
“That’s how I feel about art. I love it, and by teaching I can make a difference with it.”
So damned wise.
Prodding him, she said, “Sort of like you becoming a bodyguard, right?”
Made sense. “I do like protecting people. A few times in my life I was lucky enough to be around when someone needed me. And damn, it always feels good to know I could help.”
Pride gave her a small smile. “You’re a natural-born hero.”
“And you’re an optimist, determined to paint me in the nicest way.”
“Naked,” she quipped while bobbing her eyebrows. “I still say that’s the nicest way for you.” Then, more seriously, she added, “I see you as you are, Leese. Very smart and caring, capable, and most definitely honorable and protective. So yes, you’re a hero, and that’s that.”
Leese knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life doing what he could to live up to her expectations. But at the moment, the tightening of her nipples distracted him. And he could feel the damp heat of her open thighs. “Mostly,” he whispered, “I’m a man who wants you.”
Her gaze warmed and her breathing deepened. “Again?”
Always. “Yeah.” Reaching between their bodies, he opened her, not so he could sink in, but so he could rock his cock against her, spreading her wetness, slowly stroking over her clit. “What do you think?”
Her nails bit into his shoulders. “I think we can talk more later.” She kissed him, her mouth open, hot. Drugging.
Enjoying her escalating excitement, Leese kept the friction steady until she bowed under him.
He damn near came with her, but he held off, unwilling to take a chance without protection. This particular game was risky enough already.
When her harsh groans receded to soft moans, he moved away, grabbed the rubber and seconds later was ready.
“Over you go,” he said, turning her to her stomach, drawing her up to her knees, then opening her legs. Palming her ass, he growled as he slowly pressed into her.
So fucking hot.
He loved seeing her body accept him, the delicate pink lips glistening with her release, snug around him, taking him deep.
She clutched at the sheets, her hands fisted; all along his cock he could feel her squeezing him, the little aftershocks of her pleasure.
Holding her hips, he began a strong, heavy pace that rocked the bed, each thrust and retreat pushing him closer to release. Cat kept her head down, her bottom raised in a carnal position so erotic, Leese knew he wouldn’t last. When she cried out, the sleek muscles in her neck and shoulders strained.
He put a hand at the small of her back to keep her right where he wanted her. Awkwardly, she thrust back into him, taking what she needed to finish, and he liked that enough that he stopped trying to hold back and instead joined her.
Depleted, his body thrumming, Leese eased her flat and rested over her, his face beside hers. With his heart still thumping, catching his breath wasn’t easy. Damn, she pleased him.
She sighed. “Leese?”
Satisfaction leveled him, so he only managed to say, “Hmm?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, then she whispered, “Every time seems better.”
He gave her a squeeze, and wondered what it would be like...for a lifetime.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING the weather finally cleared enough that everything returned to normal.
Leese stood at the stove cooking breakfast and Cat sat at the counter sketching. She wore thick white socks, yoga pants and an oversize pink sweatshirt.
She was the sexiest, sweetest thing he’d ever seen.
Being with her like this, in a domestic routine, felt right.
As he removed eggs from the skillet, he asked, “What are you drawing this time?”
Before she could answer, the intercom buzzed.
More relaxed now, Cat merely glanced toward the door, then started to rise.
Leese stopped her. “I’ll get it.” She might be less wary, but he would continue to take every precaution. On his way past her, he saw that she’d drawn birds, a cluster of them on a broken fence with a small ramshackle shed to the side.
It should have been a depressed scene, but she made it pretty. The background faded, making the plump little birds the focus, and damn, it made him smile.
In his youth, maybe he should have noticed the birds more and he’d have been a happier kid.
Cat might deny it, but she was incredibly talented.
He hit the intercom button and said, “Hello?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Leese.” Enoch sounded jovial. “Sahara is on her way in, but since I got here before her, she asked that I check on you both.”
Leese unlocked the door and welcomed Enoch. “Thanks, we’re fine. Come on in.”
Nose and cheeks still red from the cold, Enoch strode in. “You had enough to eat? Stayed warm enough?”
“It was an adventure,” Cat said from the kitchen. “I enjoyed it.”
Enoch smiled toward her. “Good morning, Catalina.”
“Good morning.”
To Leese, he said, “I’m making a run for Sahara, so is there anything either of you need?”
“Making a run?” Cat asked.
“She wants to welcome everyone back to work with coffee and fresh pastries.” He set aside a briefcase and chafed his hands together. “There’s a little bakery right across the street. It won’t take me long. But
while I’m out...?”
“We’re good.” Leese led him toward the kitchen. “We were just about to eat. Want to join us?”
“Thanks, no. I’m short on time.” He lifted his briefcase. “I haven’t even been to my office yet. I came straight here to check on you, as Sahara requested.”
“Then the least I can do is give you a cup of coffee before you go.” Leese needed a chance to talk to Enoch alone. Stalling was his only option. “Cat insists on having it every morning.”
“Oh, okay.” Picking up on Leese’s unasked request, Enoch nodded. “I think I have time for half a cup. Thank you.”
Cat stared toward him. “You mentioned pastry?”
Leese handed a steaming mug to Enoch, then slid a plate of eggs in front of her, scrambled with a little cheese and ham, a small dish of mixed fruit beside that. “You have breakfast.”
“And I’m sure it’s delicious,” she countered. Then with a begging expression, she added, “But fresh pastry? Like something with jelly or icing. Come on, Leese, you can’t seriously expect me to skip that.”
She looked so mulish, Leese bent and kissed her pinched mouth, leaving her pink-cheeked and blinking. “I don’t expect you to skip anything.” He asked Enoch, “Would you mind bringing us two?” If he missed his opportunity to talk to Enoch now, he’d catch him on his return.
Cat cleared her throat. “I only need one.”
“I’ll eat one with you.”
She brightened up, making him laugh. To Enoch, he said, “She’s easy to please.”
Enoch wasn’t listening. While he sipped the coffee, he studied the drawing on the counter in front of her. “This is incredible.” He took in the pencil she held, the charcoal dust around the art mat under the drawing, and his eyes widened. “Did you do this? It appears you have, but still...”
Cat lifted her smudged fingers. “It’s a charcoal pencil, a little messy but with a lot of versatility, and yes, it’s mine. Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing. The birds look so real.” He leaned closer.
Cat warned, “Careful, or you’ll get it on you.” She tipped her head at him. “If you really like it, you can have it.”
His eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
“Sure. Being cooped up here, I’ve done a lot of drawings.”
“May I see the others?”
She went pink again. “Um...”
Because many of the sketches were of him naked, Leese said, “She can pull them all together for you to see soon. Right now, I don’t want the eggs to get cold.”
“Yes, that would be wonderful. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He stared reverently at the sketch. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I take this one?”
“It’s not a problem at all. Let me spray it first so it won’t smear.” She left down the hall toward the bathroom.
Propping a hip on the counter, Leese said, “She’s good, isn’t she?”
“Very good.” He sipped his coffee. “I had no idea.”
“Took me by surprise too.”
“I’ll frame it and hang it in my den,” Enoch told him. “I have a fondness for birds.”
Leese was about to get to his more pertinent questions when Cat strode back in, shaking a hair spray can. “This will help it to set.”
“Sign it first,” Enoch said, and then with glee, he added, “I’ll have an original.”
She laughed, but scrawled her name on the bottom of the drawing, lightly sprayed it, blew on it gently and then put it between two other blank pages. “Here you go.”
“Thank you so much.” Enoch carefully slipped it into a pocket of his briefcase. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m flattered that you like it.”
“I love it.”
Appearing very pleased, Cat put away her supplies and went to the sink to wash her hands.
Knowing it might be his only opportunity, Leese led Enoch back to the front door. Hoping the running water would keep Cat from hearing, he said low, “Could you tell Sahara I need to talk to her right away?”
“No need. She had the same request for you,” Enoch explained in a reciprocal tone. “She’ll probably need another thirty minutes. Everyone is running behind.”
“Understandable. I’m sure a lot of the side streets are still a mess.” He’d peeked out the window earlier and saw snow piled everywhere. It’d probably be a few more days before they got it all cleared up.
“I know she wants to talk to everyone as a group, and then you privately.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “I imagine I can entertain Catalina while you’re with Sahara. It’ll give me an opportunity to ask her more about her art.”
“Sounds good.” Leese opened the door. At the end of the vestibule, the private elevator doors stood open, and the adjacent door to the stairs remained secure. “Let me know when and I’ll be there.” After he closed and locked the door behind Enoch, Leese turned and saw Cat waiting for him to join her before eating. He needed to talk to Sahara, to tell her he wanted to end this, whatever it took.
He wanted Cat free.
And then they could decide about the future.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“ISN’T THAT THE little dude who works in the agency?”
Hands jammed deep in his pockets, his collar up and a scarf around his neck, Tesh gave up his perusal of the deadly icicles hanging from the gutters of the building where he planned to hole up. The owner, who worked for one of Platt’s associates, was late and that pissed him off. It was too fucking cold to stand outside waiting.
But the building was a good choice. It gave him a clear view of the Body Armor agency. With the roads finally cleared, he and two of his men had arrived half an hour ago. Already it felt as if his nose might fall off, it was so cold. He’d been about to head back to his car to wait when Johnson pointed out the man leaving Body Armor.
Enoch Walker. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Most everyone who left or entered the building did so through the parking garage doors.
He recognized Enoch from a detailed report he’d gotten on all the employees, from Sahara Silver down to the cleaning crew. The security for the building was top-notch, but here was Sahara’s right-hand man, waltzing out as if on a mission.
As he watched, Enoch tucked a briefcase under his arm and secured the buttons on his coat all the way to his throat, then turned up the collar.
“Get him,” Tesh said, the anticipation already heating his blood. “Discreetly. Take him to our car. I want to see what’s in the briefcase, if it gives us any clue about Catalina.”
“Sure thing.”
“I’ll join you in a minute.” As an afterthought, Tesh added, “Don’t hurt him too much—until I’m there.”
Wearing the slightest of smiles, Miller led the way, making a beeline across the cleared parts of the street. Johnson followed.
Both men liked to act, not wait. Giving them a focus was like throwing a meaty bone to a rabid dog.
Watching them work could be amusing, but right now, Tesh had his own need to work.
No longer cold, he watched as the little man was stopped. As alarm flared in Enoch’s eyes, Tesh breathed deeper. He loved seeing that moment of recognition, that split second of time when people realized they were in real trouble.
Enoch looked ready to scream, then Miller leaned close, said something in his ear and the little man clammed up in terror.
No doubt Miller told him he had a gun to his ribs. Since he kept his hand in his coat pockets, no one would know until it was too late.
With terror making his gait awkward and his face pale, Enoch allowed himself to be led away. Miller carried his briefcase.
Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.
Tesh flexed his fingers and, after ensuring no one had no
ticed and he wouldn’t be followed, he headed after them at a discreet distance.
He’d done many things in his life and had never been caught. He sure as hell wouldn’t blow it today...not when he was so close to having Cat.
They’d parked the SUV with darkened windows in a private lot less than a block away. Tesh followed the footsteps in the snow and, with every beat of his heart, the turbulence built in tandem with the excitement.
A very dangerous mix. A mix that inspired extreme violence from his soul.
When he got close, Johnson opened the door and stepped out. “He’s in the back.”
“Then that’s where I’ll be as well.”
“I figured.” He opened the door and waited for Tesh to slide in, then closed it and got back behind the wheel.
He now had Enoch trapped between himself and Miller.
Immediately, Miller held up a sketch. “This is signed by her.”
Enoch’s audible breathing filled the interior. From the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, the little man trembled.
“Ah.” Tesh took the drawing. “Even without a signature, I’d have recognized my kitten’s work.” His gaze pierced Enoch. “So you have Catalina?”
It took two tries before Enoch squeaked, “No. That is, the agency is working for her but—”
With a single nod, he unleashed Miller, who viciously punched Enoch in the temple. The blow blindsided him, knocked his head to the side and sent him so close to oblivion, he almost slid off the seat to the floor.
Before welcoming blackness could close in, Miller hauled him back up.
“Now,” Tesh said, enjoying the ultimate power of being in control. “You have her in the building?”
“Oh God,” Enoch whimpered, his shoulders hunched and his eyes going red.
Miller let loose with a barrage of punishment that left Enoch gurgling with pain. Sections of his face turned purple, one eye swelled shut, blood seeped from a cut at the corner of his mouth and his nose looked decidedly bent.
Superficial wounds, but they had to hurt like hell.
Miller rubbed his bruised knuckles, but surprisingly, Enoch didn’t confess Catalina’s whereabouts. At the moment, Tesh wasn’t sure he could. He looked dazed into a stupor.
