by Mia Dymond
He shifted his weight from one side to the other in an effort to curb the urge to gather clothing. Without moving his gaze, he already knew that lacy little things lay over the carpet and the remaining furniture in the room. Obviously, neatness was not her best quality.
As if she sensed his silent request, Kat scooped up clothing from the sofa cushions and then dumped the pile into a nearby recliner.
“So tell me about the mysterious Sergeant Jace Taylor.”
Mysterious? She didn’t know the half of it. “Not much to tell.”
“Oh come on Chaos, by your own admission we’ll be spending every waking moment together. The least you could do is toss me a bone.”
He swallowed hard, concerned the conversation had taken a turn into dangerous territory. Kat was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a healthy dose of sass that caused his beast of a libido to roar and he knew for a fact that combination was a lethal one, potentially detrimental to both of them. Common sense dictated he keep the animal leashed – for both their sakes.
Yet, he had always been one to walk on the wide side.
“I have a feeling you already know quite a lot about me.”
She gestured with one hand for him to sit on the sofa. He took the first cushion; she took the third, tucked herself into the corner, and then grinned.
“I’ve managed to learn a few things: you’re thirty two years old, you served as an Army Ranger, and you have an obsession with fire, proven by the fact that you recently blew up Sophie’s studio. The only other things I know about you are that, despite your nickname, you’re very neat and you’re incredibly bossy.”
He chuckled. The woman didn’t have a problem speaking her mind. “Bossy, huh?”
“Incredibly.”
“How long will it take for the pizza to be delivered?”
She shrugged. “Not long. Dimitri is usually very prompt.”
“You know your pizza deliveryman by name?”
“Yes. He’s known me since I was a teenager.”
“That long?”
She narrowed her eyes, as if offended. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Really? How old are you?”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”
“You called me bossy,” he countered.
She tilted her head to one side and he caught what he interpreted as amusement in the depths of her gaze. At that exact moment she reminded him of a Siamese cat, swishing her tail as she decided whether to answer his question or bare her claws and scratch him raw.
“Twenty seven,” she answered finally.
Grossly relieved she didn’t attack, he took another jab. “Ancient.”
“Funny.”
“We need to discuss your routine.”
“Now?” She rested her head against the back of the sofa and sighed. “Do you work every hour of every day?”
“Basically.”
“My routine is very boring, it won’t take long to discuss it.” She raised a hand twirled her index finger in the air. “Fire away.”
“What time do you start your day?”
She raised her head and squinted one eye. “Why?”
“Curiosity.”
“You’re not getting me out of bed before eight a.m. I open the spa at nine, but the first appointment isn’t scheduled until ten.”
Good to know. At least he wouldn’t have to share the hot water.
“So you’re not a morning person. Anything else I need to know?”
“Like what?”
“Do you sleep with the TV on?”
“No.”
“Do you sleep with a fan blowing?”
“Yes.” She sat up straight and tilted her head to one side. “Why are you so interested in my sleeping habits?”
“I’m in unfamiliar territory. I need to know what goes on around here at night.”
“You don’t sleep?”
“Lightly.” He grinned. “Do you snore?”
“I have no idea. Do you?”
“No, I told you I don’t sleep soundly.”
“Good excuse.”
“How many employees do you have?”
“Four.”
“Do they all work at the same time?”
She nodded. “Every day from ten o’clock a.m. until six o’clock p.m.”
“Male or female?”
“Three female, one male.”
He nodded, processing information that his teammates most likely already knew. Although, it would be at least twelve hours before they would share information. Meanwhile, he’d gather Intel of his own.
“Do you always take the same route to work?”
“Yes. I’m a creature of habit. Like I said, boring.”
He didn’t share her sentiment. So far, observation proved Kat was the least boring person he knew. With her dry wit and sharp tongue, she kept him on his toes and stimulated him to no end in the process. What he wouldn’t give for boring right about now.
“I’ll plan an alternate route.”
“What about my car?”
He resisted the urge to cringe at the mention of her pink Volkswagen bug. Surprisingly not because of the color, but because of the size. He might be able to cram himself inside but only because his head could exit through the sunroof.
“Rebel and Ace will deliver it later tonight.”
“I suppose you’ll be my chauffer from now on.”
He nodded again. “Until we catch our guy.”
“Will you let me drive your truck?”
A silent wave of admiration rolled over him. She liked his truck. Hmmmm.
“Think you can see over the steering wheel?”
She shrugged. “I’ll find a couple phone books.”
“And still reach the pedals?”
“Short–girl problems,” she mumbled.
For half a second he contemplated offering to let her sit on his lap. A team effort, more or less. And then he remembered how dangerous it was to flirt. How things could and would go terribly wrong if he gave in to his attraction to her. Nuh–huh, not again.
“We’ll see.”
“You still haven’t told me anything about yourself.”
Hell. The woman had the memory of an elephant.
“What more would you like to know?”
He braced himself for the question he was pretty sure he knew she would ask. The one he refused to answer.
“Have you ever killed someone?”
“Yes.” He delivered the admission without an ounce of hesitation and a whole lot of relief. “I blow things up – that includes people.”
He waited patiently for the look of horror to cross her face, impressed when she only smirked.
“I already knew that.”
“That should make you feel safe with me.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind I’m safe with you, Chaos. My father never would’ve called you if he wasn’t absolutely sure you could protect me.”
His upper lip twitched with a threatened grin. “Then cut me some slack, would you?”
“We’ll see.”
Luckily, the sound of the doorbell saved him from striking yet another undesirable bargain with her. She stood and he quickly caught her forearm with his hand.
“I’ll answer it.”
He stood and negotiated the distance to the front door, relieved when she didn’t follow. He pressed one eye against the peephole.
“Describe the deliveryman.”
“Are you serious?”
“Do you like cold pizza?”
She released a hard breath. “Short, olive–skinned, with a gold pinkie ring on his left hand.”
Satisfied she’d described the man on the other side of the door, he punched the security code into the alarm pad and then opened the door.
The man Kat had previously called Dimitri smiled and extended the box. “One meat lover’s supreme pizza, hot out of the oven.”
“Thank you.” He shoved his hand into his front pocket.
“What’s the damage?”
“No damage. Kat runs a tab.”
“Thank you, Dimitri,” Kat sang from the sofa.
Chaos took the box. “Thanks again.”
Heat from the underside of the cardboard box darn near scorched his palm as he shut the door and then re–armed the security system. Obviously Dimitri had not been kidding about hot out of the oven.
He set the box on top of the coffee table in front of the sofa, grateful that Kat had already cleared space and laid down a newspaper. Steam rushed from the lid when he opened it.
He handed her a napkin. “Ladies first.”
“Thank you.”
Kat took a piece of pizza and then lifted it to her mouth while holding the napkin underneath with the opposite hand. His cock screamed when she wrapped her lips around the crust and then pulled the hot, stringy cheese into her mouth.
Holy hell. He could not watch her eat.
He took a deep cleansing breath and then sat back on the sofa, quickly shoving a piece of pizza into his mouth to occupy his taste buds. The warm, spicy pie provided momentary distraction, allowing him to concentrate on matters at hand.
He swallowed and then glanced back at her, relieved to see she’d almost finished her slice of pizza. “Besides the alarm, what other security measures do you have in place?”
“I knew it,” she groaned. “You do work twenty–four hours a day.”
He simply smirked.
“I have cameras inside the house, as well as outside.”
“Every room in the house?”
“Except bedrooms and bathrooms.”
“Who monitors the DVDs?”
“Me. I choose not to allow the security company to review them, but I do have them duplicated and archived.”
“And you think they don’t watch them?”
“I can’t be totally sure,” she admitted, “but I have a signed contract that says they don’t. Besides, there’s nothing to see anyway.”
Her admission caught his attention while jealousy jabbed him. What the hell? But, even though that feeling shocked the hell out of him, he couldn’t stop the next question from slipping from his mouth.
“No late–night visitors?”
She shrugged. “A few.”
“And the cameras record all activity?”
She raised one fine eyebrow and smirked. “I’m not an exhibitionist, Chaos. My private moments are just that.”
He fought the urge to exhale in Dolby sound. Common sense told him she’d been with other men; he just didn’t need proof. He took another bite of pizza and chewed to suppress a satisfied smile. And he remained satisfied until she countered with a question he should’ve expected. In a very short time, he’d learned that Kat gave him information without hesitance but she expected the same in return. Except in this case, he really didn’t want to reciprocate.
“What about your private moments?”
“I don’t have many and when I do, I’m usually asleep.”
“Business must be good.”
“It is and assignments such as this tend to take a lot of time.”
“Do you get many assignments like this?”
“Nah.” He smirked, relieved by the chance to talk shop. “I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to jump on the back of your white horse and ride into the sunset?”
That made his laugh out loud. “I have a feeling you’d make me ride behind.”
“Honestly, it’s nice to be rescued once in a while.”
He regarded her silently for a few seconds while he processed the meaning behind her admission. He had a suspicion that beneath Kat’s tough, sassy exterior, lay a sensitive, compassionate woman who welcomed the strength of a man; she just refused to acknowledge it.
He swallowed the rest of his pizza and then sat back against the sofa cushions. The change in conversation had been a welcome reprieve but now it was time to make absolutely sure she didn’t need to be rescued.
“I’ll sleep here,” he said finally.
“I have two extra bedrooms, both of which are clean, Chaos.” She grinned. “Your definition of clean, even.”
“Thanks, but until I get a feel for this place, this location is fine.”
“The alarm is set,” she insisted. “You’ll be much more comfortable in a bed.”
He released a heavy sigh, reluctant to remind her of evil lurking in the shadows.
“I have absolutely no idea what I’m up against,” he said quietly, “and until I do, I need to be in the open.”
She simply stared at him for a brief second and he caught a tiny flash of fear that flickered in the depth of her eyes. Something told him reality had just tapped her on the shoulder.
“I’ll grab the linens.” She stood and a smile graced her face as if she were telling reality to take a hike.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He watched her climb the stairs, hopeful she understood the full meaning behind his reasoning. Although there had been no immediate threat on her life, he couldn’t rest easy. No, he had let evil have the upper hand once before; it would be a cold day in hell before he allowed that again.
***
Normally a patient man, he drummed all five fingers of his left hand against the desktop as he waited for confirmation he desperately required. He would not tolerate incompetence; this information was essential to his cause.
He released a hard breath as he glanced at his phone, resting peacefully next to his busy fingers. The dark screen taunted him in the silence and he wondered if he were approaching insanity by allowing the object to hold such importance. Yet, such a thing was a necessity. He must continue to hide his intentions from the public and call the shots from behind the scenes. Besides, it was more convenient to let someone else take the fall in the unfortunate circumstance of failure.
Kat Abbott was proving to be quite easy to manipulate. Just as he expected, she hired a bodyguard and once his associate reported, he would know if she’d hired the one he planned. Despite his aggravation, he allowed himself a mental smirk. Nothing like a false sense of security to pull a plan together.
The low buzz of his device brought him out of his silent analysis, reminding him of business at hand. He pressed the button to connect the call and then lifted the phone to his ear.
“Speak.”
“You were right. They’re now barricaded in her house. Place is lit up like a Christmas tree.”
“Excellent. Were you able to get a better visual?”
“No. He hustled her inside at light speed, but the truck is parked in the driveway.”
“Get the plate number.”
“I have it. Do you want it now?”
“No. Bring it to me in the morning.”
“They could be long gone by then.”
His blood began to simmer at his associate’s lack of confidence. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“No,” the other man quickly answered, “I’m just concerned they’ll make a run for it.”
“They won’t go anywhere.” This he knew with absolute certainty and he did not appreciate being questioned. He would put his foot down very solidly.
“Since you’re so concerned,” he continued, “why don’t you spend some time surveilling the area?”
“You want me to hang out here?”
“Correct. And it would be in your best interest not to get caught.”
“No disrespect, but that’s not possible. The only kind of cover around are palm trees and they aren’t thick. On top of that, the neighbors seem to be fairly observant. Since I’ve been sitting here, every door on the street has opened at least once.”
As badly as he hated to rescind his order, he knew his associate had a point. Better to follow his own advice to be patient and sit back and wait.
“I’ve changed my mind. Leave them for now. I’ll call with further direction.”
He disconnected and placed t
he phone back on the desk with the wheels in his mind still turning. If Kat Abbott knew what he had planned, she wouldn’t hesitate to tuck her tail and run. He fully believed in fate and she would discover very soon how cruel it could be.
CHAPTER FOUR
While Kat bent over the reception desk with her nose buried in her appointment book the next morning, Chaos sat cramped in a soft, leather chair behind the half–wall partition that separated them from the waiting area and moved his gaze around the walls painted with what he figured to be at least hundreds of bottles of Pepto Bismol. He resisted the urge to cram his Aviators onto his face; a guy could only take so much pink.
Yet, the color somewhat intrigued him. He had to admit, the color alone was the epitome of feminine – and Kat Abbott fit the bill. Dressed in a short, black skirt that teased the tops of her thighs and showcased her tanned, toned legs, she drove him absolutely crazy. Although she stood barely over five feet tall, her legs were just long enough to wrap his hips in the heat of passion. Very enticing, those legs.
Not to mention the sexy black high heels that covered her feet. Not only did they boost her height by a couple inches, they drew attention to her incredible, wonderfully–smooth, shapely ass and her perfectly–rounded breasts. The tight, white top she wore buttoned up the front hugged every single curve in between and allowed him just a peek at the valley of cleavage between her breasts. With her head bent slightly forward, her long, auburn hair fell over her shoulders, the ends resting just below. Thank Jesus that the pink apron draped around her neck and tied at the waist didn’t obstruct the view.
He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose while squealing brakes sounded in his brain. These thoughts of Kat and her delectable body had to stop.
He cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his thoughts on track. “What time is your first victim?”
“Ten o’clock.” She raised her head and smirked. “And, this isn’t a torture chamber.”
That was a matter of opinion. Memory reminded him that he’d once been severely tortured with her hands on his body, pressing against his muscles to illicit a somewhat painful euphoria.
“Is this a new customer?”
“No, I have such an extensive client list that I only have one appointment per week for new customers.”
