Hot Pursuit

by Christina Skye

  Jack crossed his arms. “Honey, everything about you frightens me.”

  “Well, in that case, you can just haul yourself out of my way and out of my life.” She tried to push past, only to find herself captured against the wall, pinned in place by his powerful body.

  “Let me rephrase that. You shake me up bad. You make me want to have you about twenty different ways, okay? The hell of it is, the thought’s becoming something of an obsession, which means I can’t do my job.”

  “Oh.”

  Jack shook his head. “That’s all you’ve got to say? I’m spilling out my guts here, and you say oh?”

  Taylor gave a crooked smile. “I have one other thing to say.”

  “It better be good.”

  She touched Jack’s cheek, fascinated by this hard, cool side of him. She was beginning to realize that this kind of curiosity could become very dangerous. “I was just going to point out that you’re sweating, Broussard. And I believe the gun is back.”

  He stared at her for what felt like an eternity, then shook his head, breaking into reluctant laugher. “You’re over the top, you know that?”

  “Being over the top is a special skill of mine. So what are we going to do about this little obsession thing we have going?”

  “It’s mutual?”

  She nodded. This time her eyes were serious.

  Jack’s hands moved to her shoulders, then eased through her hair as if he was fascinated by all its wild colors. “We could pretend we never met.” Something about his tone told Taylor the idea was only half in jest.

  “It would never work. I’m under your skin, and you know it.”

  He stared back at her, mesmerized by her laugh. The woman was trouble, but he couldn’t control the direction his thoughts were taking. “Then we could go back to your place,” he said tightly. “In a couple of hours, we could work this out of our systems for good.”

  Part of him prayed she’d say yes.

  Part of him was terrified that touching her would drag him under worse than ever.

  “Oh, I think that would be a little excessive,” she said sweetly. “Any other options?”

  “Try this one.” His mouth moved over hers, tested, skimmed, then locked hard. Heat shimmered as the kiss grew more intimate and their tongues met. Taylor’s hands slid to his shoulders, trembling, and that small betraying movement made Jack curse, wanting her fiercely. Even though this was a mission and he never should have been thinking the things he was.

  Then his hands were on her hips, dragging her closer, shaping her to the hard need neither of them could ignore, while a ragged little moan escaped her lips.

  Behind them the elevator chimed. The doorman looked out and chuckled. “Sorry about that, folks. Don’t let me interrupt you.”

  The door closed and the elevator whisked away.

  “Great.” Taylor dragged in a breath. “That kiss will be all over the building in an hour. Taylor and the new tenant all but stripping each other in the corridor.”

  “Do you mind?” Jack frowned. These were her friends and her life, after all. He would be walking out of that life as soon as his mission was finished.

  “I should mind. Besides, you’re definitely not my type.”

  “Hallelujah for that,” Jack said grimly.

  “See? I should punch you for that comment—but I don’t. I’m still trying to figure out why.”

  Jack couldn’t resist sliding one last kiss across those warm, sleek lips. “Must be because I’m under your skin, O’Toole. Seriously under your skin.”

  “Dream on, hard case.”

  “Oh, I’m dreaming, all right. They’re definitely X-rated. Now let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Wherever I want. You agreed to spend the day with me, remember?”

  Taylor crossed her arms. “Tell me again why I agreed to do that.”

  “Because we’re both saying to hell with Harris Rains for one day. I’ll feed you. We’ll talk. We’ll relax. Nothing serious, so let’s not analyze it to death.” He waited impatiently. “Get your purse, and we’ll hit the road. Remember to ditch those hand weights or I may end up crippled.”

  Taylor sighed. “Are you always this alpha?”

  “Pretty much, yeah. Now do you move or do I have to kiss you again until you shiver and make that sexy little moan?”

  “I do nothing of the sort.”

  His grin was dark and confident. “Sexy moan. No mistake about it.”

  “You must be hallucinating.” Color drifted over Taylor’s cheeks while she locked her door.

  “Why don’t we take your car? Mine’s been acting up.” Jack’s orders had been to arrange for Taylor to drive, making it clear to anyone watching that she was out of the action for the day. Meanwhile, her absence would create one less problem for the federal team scrambling to locate Rains.

  If anyone followed Taylor, Jack would nail them.

  “Fine with me.” Taylor watched him as he headed for her passenger door. “You’re not demanding to drive?”

  “Your car. You get to drive it.”

  Taylor stared. “Most men chew their knuckles when a woman takes the wheel.”

  Jack considered chewing his knuckles when she shoved in the gearshift and shot into traffic. He managed a cool smile. “As far as I know, sex never affects driving ability.”

  “That depends on how much, where, and with whom.” Taylor’s throaty laugh made Jack swallow a curse. She turned to look at him. “You could definitely affect my road handling.”

  “Drive,” he said in a rough voice. “Stop giving me bad ideas.”

  “Where am I driving to?”

  “Monterey,” Jack said casually as she merged into the flow of traffic. “When did you last eat?”

  Taylor frowned. “This morning. A handful of M&M’s around ten.”

  Jack shook his head. “For a smart person, you are seriously disturbed.” He reached over and dug in her purse.

  “Hey, what are you—”

  “Here.” He held up a smashed protein bar. “Eat it. Cars can’t run on air, and neither can people.”

  “You’re doing that alpha thing again, Broussard.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet. Now stop arguing and eat.”

  “But—”

  “Now. You know I’m right.”

  Muttering, Taylor grabbed the bar and started eating, ignoring Jack’s raised eyebrow when her stomach growled loudly.

  He shook his head. “Seriously disturbed.”

  But Taylor was enjoying the beautiful drive, and by the time they parked near the beach at the Monterey wharf, she realized she was ravenous.

  “I insist that we split all costs right down the middle today. Fair is fair.” Taylor grabbed his arm and pulled him toward an old man selling Belgian waffles dusted with cinnamon and sugar. “I’ll have one of these for starters. With chocolate syrup.” Before they reached the water’s edge, Taylor had finished off a bag of popcorn, a hot dog with chili, and half of a chocolate chip cone with everything on it.

  Hidden in the shadows, someone watched her every step of the way.

  “Do you always eat like this?”

  Wind ruffled the water. At the far end of the beach kayakers tested the broad, sheltered waters of Monterey Bay.

  Taylor gave Jack’s question serious consideration. “It’s nerves. Sometimes I lose my appetite, and other times I can’t turn it off.” She stopped to lick a trail of ice cream from her finger.

  “Why the nerves?”

  “Let’s just say that my life has become a general mess.”

  Jack handed her a napkin as a second ice cream trail ran down another finger. “What kind of mess?”

  Taylor dangled her shoes in one hand and ate her ice cream cone with the other. “Things. You know. Problems.”

  “Like?”

  “Work. Friends. Family stuff.” She stared down the beach at a little girl tugging a red balloon over her head. “I also found out I was adopted.” Sh
e stopped walking, her face going pale. “I can’t believe I told you that. I haven’t told anyone that.”

  He studied her gravely. “When did you find out?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “Did you discuss it with your parents?” Jack asked carefully.

  “They’re dead.” Taylor looked down, watching water skim over her bare feet. Ice cream trickled down her cone, but she didn’t seem to notice. “They’re gone, and I have no one else to ask. My sister doesn’t even know.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “A letter from the law firm that took over after our family lawyer died.” Her voice tightened. “I found some papers stuffed in the middle of the file.”

  “That’s how you found out?”

  Taylor nodded stiffly.

  “It seems I have a brand-new reason to hate lawyers.” Jack stared at a spot out in the bay. “They ought to be sued for incompetence.”

  “Maybe. But if they hadn’t been sloppy, I’d never have learned the truth. I would have just gone on the way I had—oblivious, living a happy little lie.” She frowned at her hand as if she’d just realized it was covered with melting ice cream. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Without a word, Jack took the cone and tossed it in a nearby garbage can. After scanning the beach around them, he walked back to Taylor. She hadn’t moved, staring down at the tide that rose up to lap at her feet. “You okay?”

  “Probably. But I’m going to stay here for a while.”

  “Take your time.”

  “Funny, when we were little, my sister and I used to stand like this for hours, talking about everything, arguing about nothing. We were filled with more dreams than two hearts could hold.” She took a breath. “But Annie stayed behind. All those years she was the rock, always and ever, while I . . . ran. And I ran. I visited all the places we’d dreamed about and put those old, half-forgotten dreams into words, then I built books trying to figure out what they meant. But I’ll never know, because I’m not who I thought I was. I’m not really Taylor O’Toole, older sister of Annie O’Toole. I’m nameless, uprooted, and I hate that almost as much as I hate myself for believing it matters.” She scooped up a handful of sand and watched it hiss through her wet fingers. “You grow up taking so many things for granted. Day after day you think you know yourself and how the world works, but you don’t,” she whispered. “Then everything falls away and no matter how you try, you can’t hold it because you can barely even see it.” She sank onto the sand, her eyes closed. “I hate what I’m saying. I hate caring so much. And it’s not even your problem—it’s got nothing at all to do with you, so why don’t you go on walking while I stay here for a few minutes and remember how to be a sane, mature adult who doesn’t embarrass both of us.” She frowned when she realized he was bending down beside her on the wet sand. “Why haven’t you gone away?”

  “Hell if I know.” He took her sandy hand between his. “You’re right, it’s none of my business, but here’s what I think. Mothers don’t give away their children easily or without reasons. The problem is, you may never know those reasons. That’s going to be hard to live with.”

  She swallowed as he traced a line through the sand on her palm. “I feel so . . . stupid about this. So childish. It happened years ago.”

  “You are a child, at least where your parents are concerned. Maybe you need to listen to what that child is telling you right now.”

  She managed a faint smile. “What, no brisk orders? No snappy value judgments? Just gentle advice?”

  Jack pulled her to her feet. “Stick around. The day’s not over yet.”

  Taylor rose onto her toes and kissed him. “That was rude of me. I apologize.”

  “Never apologize for telling the truth.” Jack looked over her shoulder, frowning. “Did you have any particular plans for those red sneakers of yours?”

  “Why?”

  “Because at the moment they’re floating away into the surf.”

  Taylor spun around, soaking them both as she lunged after her shoes and caught them just before the tide swept them out of reach. She laughed when she saw the water on the front of his shirt. Without a pause, she splashed him again, then darted away over the sand.

  Jack watched her clutch her wet sneakers, laughing breathlessly, her hair a dozen bright colors in the sunlight, her laugh reckless and far too infectious for the hardened, by-the-book professional he always had been and always would be. “Let’s go.”

  She stopped running and frowned at him. “What’s wrong? There was something in your face just now—something hard.”

  “Must be your overdeveloped writer’s imagination at work.” Jack cursed the ease with which she drew out emotions he wasn’t supposed to feel. He grabbed her arm, tugging her up the beach, but he hadn’t taken two steps when the fine hairs rose on the back of his neck.

  She pulled against his grip, her body tense. “Jack, what is it?”

  To lie or not to lie? “I’m not sure,” he said quietly. “But I think we’re being watched.”

  She moved closer. Her hand found its way into his. “Where?”

  “No, don’t look. Just put your arms around me. Do it right now.” He felt her slim, strong body pressed against his and scowled at the instant stab of desire. As he drew her closer, he scanned the beach, looking for any faces seen too often or too close.

  Nothing. Everything seemed normal. But the prickle of warning didn’t leave as they jogged over the sand back to the car.

  “What now?” Taylor stared at him.

  “We’re going for a drive—and I’ll take the wheel.”

  She nodded slowly and handed him the keys. “So you can watch for pursuit cars. In that case, take Sunset Drive to Pebble Beach.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “17 Mile Drive? Good idea. The route’s narrow and winding. We can slip off and see who’s behind us.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were looping through some of the most beautiful real estate in the country, while the Pacific bubbled and surged just beneath them. Jack kept glancing into the rearview mirror, where a fury of sea spray and whitecaps churned behind them.

  “There’s the picnic turnoff near Cypress Point.” Taylor pointed along the rugged road in front of them. “Pull over there and you can see for several miles.”

  Jack took the turn, nosed in next to a camper, and motioned Taylor to a table while they watched the traffic behind them.

  A minivan sped by, followed by a pool maintenance truck. Neither turned off, nor did the dusty black sedan that followed. Jack kept his vigil for ten minutes, then stood up. “That should be long enough. Now let’s see who comes after us.”

  As they wound along the wave-swept headlands, a dusty sedan turned out of the visitors’ parking area at one of the pricey golf resorts.

  “Isn’t that interesting?” Jack nudged the Wrangler faster.

  The sedan speeded up, too.

  Taylor already had pen and paper in hand. “I’ve got his plate number. A friend at the DMV can run a name check for me.”

  “Let’s be sure he’s really on us first.”

  Ten more minutes of leisurely stops and winding detours proved what he had suspected: their unknown friend in the dusty Lincoln Town Car wasn’t going away.

  Taylor was looking a little pale when they exited the drive near Carmel Gate. “Aren’t you going to stop him?”

  Jack shook his head. Keeping a low profile was a mission priority. Like it or not, he had to leave the rest to Izzy and his team. “I want to see how persistent our friend is.”

  “Try Pacific Grove. We can do some window shopping and see if he tags along.”

  Since her plan was as good as any he had, they parked, and then strolled past antique dealers, bookstores, and a crowded farmers’ market. Despite constant checking, Jack saw no suspicious lurkers or familiar faces. But Taylor was looking strained, so he pulled her onto a bench angled toward the route they had just walked along.

  Why are we stopping?
”

  “Because you need a break.”

  Taylor frowned. “And because you need to check the street behind us.”

  “That, too. After a few more minutes, I’ll make some calls.”

  She didn’t look completely convinced, but she pulled off one sneaker and brushed sand from her foot, then closed her eyes, soaking up the sunlight.

  When Jack finished checking the street, he turned back.

  Taylor was staring at the traffic, one hand shading her eyes. “I don’t believe it. What are they doing here?”

  “Who?”

  Taylor’s eyes were locked on the slow-moving traffic. “Sam is with her, too. I’m not ready for this.”

  Jack studied the nearby pedestrians. “Ready for what?”

  A woman called out, and he stood up, automatically shielding Taylor. Two people hurried toward them, waving their hands. Abruptly, the details from his mission briefing kicked in.

  The pregnant, smiling woman was Taylor’s sister. The big man beside her, sizing Jack up carefully, was her husband, a highly decorated Navy SEAL named Sam McKade.

  Chapter Thirteen

  FROM TAYLOR’S BOOK OF RULES:

  Remember who brought you.

  Hell.

  Could the day possibly get any worse?

  Jack schooled his face to amiable surprise as he watched Taylor wrapped in her sister’s excited hug. After several rapid-fire questions, Taylor gave her brother-in-law a quick kiss, then turned to make introductions. Jack knew that this was a meeting she dreaded, and he saw hints of awkwardness in her eyes. The meeting left him edgy, too, since the real reason for his involvement with Taylor had to remain a secret.

  But Sam McKade didn’t look like the sort of man you could fool for long, especially since he was the one who had wrangled Navy protection for his sister-in-law—until Rains was in jail or cleared.

  As Jack waited politely for Taylor to finish her introductions, he knew he was being sized up. Sam McKade’s intense stare also told him that he was going to be grilled thoroughly before the afternoon was over.

  Jack gave a casual glance down the busy street, then gestured toward a nearby restaurant. “Why don’t we adjourn inside?”