Vic led her inside the cabin and Gina’s gaze traveled along the enormous interior. What a wonder. Large windows lined the sides and the lake sparkled beyond them. Three leather sofas sat in the middle of the space with a couple of wingback chairs and ottomans. The walls, painted a soft taupe, had dark oak trim and the soft overhead lights gave a feeling of warmth. Gina let out a low whistle.
“Yeah,” Vic said. “Not too shabby. We’ll hang here until we get on the water. We’re going to eat on deck. If that’s okay?”
Was it okay? Surely, he had to be joking. “That sounds great.”
It had been a long time since she felt that way about sharing a meal with a man.
The lights of the Navy Pier Ferris wheel glittered in the distant darkness while the skyline loomed in a brilliant array of blues and reds and white. Perfect weather for a perfect night. Gina tilted her head toward the winking stars and breathed in. Chicago was a magnificent city, and seeing the tall buildings against the lakefront made her appreciate having city life and a beach all in one.
Vic stepped behind her, slid his sport coat over her shoulders and ran his hands down her arms. She’d give him a week to cut that out. Then again, a week might not be long enough. Odd how she had missed the simple things like a touch from the man she cared for.
“The wind is kicking up,” he said.
“A little, but the fresh air feels good.”
He leaned into her and said, “Good enough to score me some points and get you to rethink that no-sex thing?”
She laughed. One-track mind.
“You’re not answering,” he said.
Damn straight she wasn’t. “So—” she faced him, “—what did you have to do to get use of this floating palace?”
The dim overhead lighting fell across his face and his eyes zeroed in on her.
“Can you talk about it?” she asked.
He hesitated a moment then said, “Monk, Billy, Tiny and I pulled the owner’s daughter out of a makeshift jungle prison in Colombia.”
Gee, just a normal day at the office. Gina gaped at him.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s a good thing, what you do. I’ll never understand your love of the danger, but it’s honorable and I can see why you do it.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I love the danger.”
“But you get a rush from it. Part of you enjoys the dark side and that’s okay. It makes you who you are.”
Vic leaned in, pushed a curl from her cheek. “Honey, it’s a job. The military trained me and I wanted to use those skills in the private sector. And thank God for dumb-ass hotel heiresses or I’d be unemployed.”
They both laughed. “Doubtful,” Gina said. “I have to say, as a parent, I can’t imagine how that man felt when you brought his child home.”
Just a foot from her, the warmth of his body reached her and she moved closer. He smelled male, clean, and all she wanted was to crawl inside him. She grabbed his shirt and hauled him down for a lip-lock and, oh yes, the heat was there, firing her system.
He wrapped his arms around her, and his hands wandered up and down her body, slowly exploring and making her legs tingle.
More. That was what she wanted, and he must have anticipated the primal urge, because his hands were suddenly on her breasts. Oh yes. She hadn’t been touched like this in a long time and the heat drilled deeper into her core. I’m going to ignite this whole damn boat.
She left behind the lonely young widow and was now a desirable and wanted woman. He slowed the kiss’s furious pace, and disappointment dropped on her. He pulled away an inch, giving her the classic Vic grin.
“That no-sex thing isn’t sounding so good right now, is it?”
It really would have been fun to clock him, but he was right. She’d turned into an inferno in his arms.
Something about him made her always want to go fast. As if it wouldn’t last and she needed to experience him before it ended.
She ran her hands up his shirt. “Teasing me won’t get you laid tonight. Just remember that. Wonder Butt.”
“Excuse me?”
She laughed. “Martha nicknamed you Wonder Butt.”
Martha, her fifty-something cubemate, got all hot and bothered whenever Vic came into the accounting department.
His shoulders sagged. He opened his mouth, shut it again, and then said, “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
“How widespread is that?”
She burst out laughing and, still in his arms, eased around to stare out over the rail. “I think it’s contained to accounting, but if you’re not nice to me, I can change that.”
He leaned in, his body solid against hers. “You’re a witch,” he whispered and kissed her neck.
If she could stay like this, just for a little while, she’d be happy. And that was saying something, because being happy with Vic had never entered her realm of thinking.
None of this could come to any good.
She’d take the time she could get, and then they’d go on with their lives.
The emotional rubble he’d leave behind would be murder. And Vic would give her emotional rubble. He couldn’t help it, and she had to accept it. She couldn’t live with a man who faced constant danger.
Not again.
Chapter Eleven
Man Law: Always stay sharp.
“Is it really over?” Gina sighed as they walked down the dock after leaving the yacht.
Vic laughed. How could anyone not love Gina? She always said what was on her mind. Maybe he could learn. “Afraid so, babe. Gotta give the floating palace back.”
She turned toward the yacht. He’d have to see if he could snag the big tub another time. Seeing her have fun made him want to do this for her again. Dare he say it made him happy?
Him? Happy?
His view of happy had become wildly skewed recently. He thought the job made him happy, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. The constant training, working his body to the brink, got old. Not to mention the nightmares. He’d stopped counting the lives he had taken over the years, but they haunted him at night.
Forget it. Push it aside. Do the work and shut the hell up.
Not wanting to spend too much time in the open, he grabbed Gina’s hand to keep her moving. Something had his nerves firing. He had the guys check the lot and everything seemed quiet, but his senses still buzzed.
He got to the Tahoe and opened the door for Gina while scanning the area from the corner of his eye. Typical line up of cars. A couple of Mercedes, a few Beemers. The Ferrari was a sweet ride, and he would have loved to slide behind the wheel of that baby. Then he spotted the Chevy and everything went slow motion. The other cars disappeared from his mind, and his arms stung. What the hell was a beat-up eighty-five Chevy doing here?
Best he could tell, the car was empty. The employees couldn’t park here. The owners’ lot required a parking pass and employees didn’t get one. Someone owning one of these boats wouldn’t be driving that piece-of-shit car.
Not about to leave Gina to check it out, Vic slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed Monk. He stepped sideways to block the lake breeze but kept an eye on the Chevy. Gina knocked on the window and put her hands out palms up. He held up a finger.
“Did you check out this Chevy?” Vic asked when Monk answered.
“It’s locked, nobody in it. We checked your car too. It’s clean.”
“Did you get the plates?”
“Yeah, but it’s late and I can’t find Janet. I’ll have her run it in the morning.”
“Roger,” Vic said and hung up.
Shit. Who owned that fucking car? He checked his watch. Twelve-forty. Did he have Phil’s cell number? A top-notch crime reporter would have a P.D. source who could run a plate at any hour, and Phil said he’d try to help when needed. He scrolled through his phone’s contact list. Nothing for Phil’s cell. Crap. He’d have to remedy that.
Gina opened the door, her lips tight with that frustrated-m
other look. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m coming.” He shut the door again, shoved his windblown and very annoying hair out of his face and moved to the driver’s side of the truck. Still eyeing the Chevy, he reached around to his back and grabbed his trusty Sig. Gina sat staring out the window when he got in, so he slid the gun into the side pocket of the door. No sense upsetting her any further. He’d managed to keep the gun hidden all night. Why blow a great evening?
She finally turned to him. “Is everything okay?”
After a minute of debating with himself he nodded toward the battered car. “The cars parked here. That piece of crap doesn’t belong.”
She glanced out her window. “Oh.”
“Don’t worry about it. Monk will check it out. It could be a lead. Who knows?” He started the truck. “Let’s get outta here.”
He pulled onto jam-packed Lake Shore Drive to make his way to the North Side. No easy task with cars zooming by. He punched the gas to keep up with traffic. A busy night in Chi town.
Gina reached over, tapped on the radio and switched the station. He gave her a what-the-fuck face.
“What?” she asked.
“Man law violation.” He flipped the station back. “Standard operating procedure. Whoever is driving chooses the music.”
She waved him off. “That’s just dumb.”
“Oh, honey,” he laughed. “You’ve got a lot to learn. There’s a whole code we men live by. Ask Mike.”
He checked the rearview. Switched lanes. He’d have to spend time educating Gina on man laws. He glanced at the mirror again. A car three back switched lanes with him. Was it a beat-up Chevy? Despite the lights lining Lakeshore Drive, he couldn’t see well enough in the dark to know for sure. He shot back across two lanes and took the Addison exit ramp.
Gina grabbed the door handle and squeezed. “Wow. What is with the driving? Where are you going?”
He checked again. Shit. He’d picked up a tail. Two cars back. It had to be that Chevy. He stopped at a traffic light. Nobody moving from the car. He slid a sideways glance at Gina’s wild-eyed expression.
“I think we have company.” He dialed his phone.
She sucked in air. “Oh my God.”
“Where are you?” Vic asked when Monk answered.
“Just got to Oak Street. What’s up?”
“Turn around. I think someone is tailing me. I’m about to hit Addison. I’ll drive around until you catch up.”
The light turned green and Vic checked his mirror. Yep. Still there.
“So, what are we doing about this?” Gina asked, her voice a little squeaky. A nervous habit he’d noticed early on. She’d make a terrible spec ops person, but her honesty was the thing he loved most about her.
He picked a random one-way street and turned right. Parked cars lined both sides of the street, but most of the houses were dark, their inhabitants probably sleeping. “When Monk catches up to us I’m going to lose this guy. Once I do that, Monk will follow him and see where he goes.”
“Sounds pretty simple.”
He took a quick glance at her and shrugged. “If it works.”
She fumbled in her purse. “I need to call Michael and check on the kids.”
“Fine. But I’d know if there was a problem. Call anyway so you’re not worried about them.”
Vic’s phone rang. “You back there?” he asked, sitting a little straighter in his seat.
He stuck his earpiece in so he could have both hands on the wheel while he talked with Monk.
“Yeah. I just turned onto Montrose. I think I see you. Four, five cars up. You’re stopped in front of a dry cleaners?”
“Bingo. You’re right behind my tail. Is it that fucking Chevy from the lot? I can’t tell from here.”
“Roger that. Two people in the car.”
“Is it?” Gina asked.
She hadn’t yet learned the art of keeping quiet when he wanted to think. Vic held up a finger. She’d have to wait a sec.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna ditch this asshole. You stay with him and see where he goes.”
“You want us to talk to him?”
“No. Just find out where he goes. We’ll run the plate and the address and see what we’ve got. Let’s get somebody on him. Do not lose this guy, Monk.”
“Got it, boss.”
He clicked off. Gina lowered her hands to her lap and furiously tapped them against her legs. Holy hell, the tension in the car could give a man a heart attack.
“Sorry. I had to think. Kids okay?”
“They’re fine. Michael wants you to call. Keep him updated.”
He squeezed her hand. “This is not a problem. The guys will take care of it. I just want to know who is back there. Nobody will get hurt. Okay?”
She nodded. “I hate this, but thank you. I’m okay. I trust you.”
Not too bad, considering he’d thrown her life into a snake pit filled with terrorists. He pulled his hand away, put it back on the wheel. He had to find an alley, and Gina knew this neighborhood. Might as well keep her mind busy.
“Isn’t there a long alley used for garbage pickup around here? I think it’s behind a bunch of stores or something.”
“Yes,” she said, pointing out the windshield. “You have to turn right on the next block.”
He checked the rearview. The Chevy was still three cars back. If he timed it right, he could swing the turn, haul ass into the alley and kill his lights. With any luck, the black Tahoe would be invisible, his tail would cruise by and Monk could take over.
“When I get to the corner, hang on, because I’m gonna floor it and go screaming into that alley. With the lights off, they shouldn’t see us.”
Gina, looking doe-eyed again, nodded.
He got to the corner, waited for the green light, made the turn and floored it. He reached the alley and—oh shit—someone had parked too close to the corner. The turn would be way too tight. Son of a bitch. They could easily swerve into the side of the building.
Adrenaline shot through him, making his arms and legs tingle again. He could do this, no problem.
Concentrate.
Time it.
Wait.
Now.
Gina plastered herself against the seat and said something, but it fizzled. Or maybe he blocked it out. He cut the wheel. The back end of the SUV fishtailed, but they hadn’t hit anything yet. He killed the lights and shot down the alley, hoping he didn’t hit a bystander and make them roadkill.
Halfway through the alley he checked his rearview. Took a breath. Let his body come down from the surge. Gina swung around and stared out the back window.
“Was that them?” she asked, panic lighting her voice.
Vic dialed Monk. “I think so.”
“Yo,” Monk said. “Nice piece of work there. I see you haven’t forgotten everything you’ve learned.”
“Yeah. You got ’em?”
“You bet your ass I do. I’ll call you when we get somewhere.”
“I have to tell you,” Gina said, walking through her back door, “that scared the hell out of me.”
Vic shut the door behind him. “Not your typical first-date stuff, huh?”
He wasn’t kidding about that. The edge of the thrill had worn off and her body reacted by changing to lead and forcing her to drag it around. How did these guys do this for a living and not suffer from constant fatigue?
After kicking the killer high heels off, she leaned against the kitchen counter and almost heard her feet groan. “Not typical, but I wouldn’t trade it. Dinner was amazing. Thank you.”
He walked to her, hoisted her onto the counter and leaned in. His breath tickled her cheek and her insides coiled with anticipation. Why did she always respond to him this way?
“You are way too short,” he said. “You’re going to need a stepstool every time I want to kiss you.”
Gina opened her legs so he could move closer. He wiggled his eyebrows.
A laugh was the o
nly response she had. “I was giving you more room. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Not at the time anyway.
He had that smug grin on his face again and she smacked his arm. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
Please.
Taunting her, he stepped back. She grabbed him by the shirt, hauled him to her and flattened herself against him for a mind-frying kiss.
He groaned. “That dragging-me-by-the-shirt thing. I love it. Remember that.”
If she could crawl into his skin, it wouldn’t be enough. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, drew him closer and wrapped her legs around him. The bulge in his pants pressed against her—oh baby!—sending a swirl of heat through her midsection. And all of a sudden the no-sex theory seemed rather stupid.
The kids were gone. They’d have all night together. His hands explored and their lips collided in a glorious frenzy. She imagined them naked in bed together, and she’d have that big beautiful body all to herself. Finally, they could go slow and not rush it.
The swirl of heat funneled into a furnace blast.
A noise from the back porch snapped her to attention.
No.
Billy.
Out back.
The blinds were down, but with him standing on the porch just feet away, he might hear them through the walls.
She backed away, sucked in a breath.
“I know,” Vic said. “No sex tonight.”
“Not that. It’s Billy. He’ll hear us.”
Vic moved away, put his head down. “Crap.”
“What?”
He held his hands out. “You said no sex. That’s what you said.”
She snorted. “You’re having a crisis of conscience. Mr. Anti-Emotion. Are you kidding me? Forget what I said. I changed my mind.”
She jumped down from the counter and stalked him. He was so having sex with her tonight. Wicked bad sex. Gymnastic sex. Did he have any idea the effect he had on her? She hadn’t experienced this kind of need in years. Goodbye numbness, because Vic made her feel anything but numb.
He angled around her, walked through the small dining room to the living room. That wouldn’t help. Roy was on the front porch. Even when they were alone, they weren’t alone. She grabbed the back of Vic’s shirt, pulled it free from his waistband, but he slapped her hand away.
Man Law Page 10
