Under the Gun

by HelenKay Dimon

  Luke stepped up beside her. He leaned his backside against the counter and faced her. “You okay?”

  “No.”

  He glanced around the room. “I know the place is a bit less than what you’re used to.”

  “Do you really think my problem is with the decor?”

  “I gave up trying to understand you and what you thought a long time ago.”

  At first she thought he was itching for a fight. Then she really looked at him. Exhaustion pulled at his cheeks and mouth. From his eyes to his shoulders, everything drooped. “What about you?”

  “I dunno. What about me?”

  “You look ready to fall over.”

  “Apparently getting shot wreaks havoc with my stamina.” He folded his arms over his chest.

  “Was this your first time?”

  He leaned in closer and whispered, “Are you fishing for information?”

  She was desperate to gain some control over her situation. If all she could manage was an honest conversation about who and what Luke was, that was fine with her. “Yes.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  So much for getting a little peace. “Either way, you should rest.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  She couldn’t decide if he wanted to protect her or handcuff her. One thing was for certain, her hours of running and being scared witless convinced her the safest place to be was right by Luke’s side. Injured or not, he was determined to find out what was happening to her. That gave them a united purpose. She could go and hide out on her own, but together they might meet their goal faster.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” For the first time in a long time she said it and meant it.

  “You’ll understand if I don’t exactly trust your word about sticking around.”

  She didn’t have the emotional energy for this battle now. More important, she knew he wasn’t ready to listen. He would never understand that he’d unconsciously pushed her away. Yeah, she had made some terrible choices. She hurt him when she didn’t even know that was possible. Stability, honesty. He couldn’t see it, but Luke refused to give her either when he hid whole parts of his life from her.

  She grew up with the burden of dangerous secrets. In another time she would have been called a bastard. That was what happened when a father set up two families simultaneously without enough money to support either. Claire and her mother, the second and expendable family, suffered. He was absent, lying, and loving another woman and child more than he ever loved Claire and her mom. When his double life was exposed, he had to make a choice. He threw Claire away.

  Yeah, she knew about the things people didn’t say, knew that those never-spoken words could cut and destroy. She also knew what it was like to grow up poor and alone with everyone pointing and laughing. For her mother, cancer came as a welcome relief from the mocking. Claire learned a different lesson: rely only on yourself.

  But rather than risk another argument, she switched topics. “Interesting house.”

  She had no idea where they were. Somewhere in Virginia, away from highways and the congestion of close-in D.C. Luke had driven for more than an hour, in the dark and fighting sleep as his eyes kept trying to close, until they pulled into a wooded area. No road. Just a gate that swung open upon command from his watch.

  The one-story, one-bedroom house qualified more as a cabin than an actual residence. It was clean and stocked with food, so she couldn’t complain. A long kitchen anchored the open living room on one end. The bedroom sat off to the right. Claire knew from looking that the only choice of sleeping arrangements was a king-size bed. That and the couch, which she planned to use tonight no matter how much Luke whined about her decision.

  The rustic atmosphere and heavy furniture reminded her of hunting and fishing. She didn’t associate either activity with Luke. “What is this place?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “I don’t see any art.”

  He smiled. “You mean antiques.”

  “What I mean is that it’s time for you to tell me what you really do for a living, and skip the art talk or I’ll quiz you on it.”

  “Does it really matter?” He turned around and poured a cup of coffee.

  “I think so.”

  “Isn’t the point that I can protect you?”

  He still didn’t get it, didn’t understand how secrets festered until they destroyed everything. She learned that the hard way years ago. “Maybe I don’t want someone throwing himself in front of me every ten seconds.”

  “You would have preferred I let the guy in the conference room shoot you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then you must be talking about your husband.”

  Everything circled around to that. No matter how hard she tried to steer the conversation somewhere else, Luke brought it back. “My ex, and I rarely talk about him.”

  “Because?”

  “I don’t have anything good to say.”

  “Almost two years of marriage and not one good moment?” Luke took a long sip of his coffee. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Since I dodged the marriage bullet, why don’t you explain to me what happens.”

  “It’s about how those moments string together. For me, they never did.” She tipped her head, letting her hair fall back. “I didn’t love him. He didn’t love me. A quick end was inevitable. I just never expected death and disaster.”

  Luke watched every move she made with a face pulled tight in confusion and something that looked like pain. “Then why, Claire? Why him?”

  No. They needed to discuss this, but not when bullets were flying and unknown men nipped at their heels. “This isn’t the right time.”

  “I’ve got nothing but time.”

  “That makes one of us.” When she tried to move away, he grabbed her arm. She stared down at his long fingers. “You’ve picked up a nasty habit of manhandling women.”

  He dropped his hand. “I don’t know how else to get your attention. You seem to spend most of your time running away from me.”

  “I’m here now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my ex-husband set me up.”

  “Not that.” Luke shifted, inched closer, until his mouth hovered next to her cheek. “Why me? I’m not the only guy you know. Why show up in front of me, taunting me?”

  Warm puffs of air brushed her skin. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Not good enough.” The words sounded tough, but there was no heat behind them.

  “I knew you were more than you claimed to be.” She’d always known. His unwillingness to tell her was part of what broke them apart.

  “Meaning?”

  “I knew if you thought I was out there you’d follow me.”

  Their mouths nearly touched now. “I still don’t get it.”

  “My thought was to lead you to Phil, prove he was alive and let you do the rest. You’d see that he was brought in, that my name was cleared.”

  Luke’s head snapped back. “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “Because while I never really knew you, I did understand you. You’re one of the good guys. A rescuer at heart.”

  “I’m not sure the guy on the conference-room floor would agree with you.”

  “And whether you want to admit it or not, you’re law enforcement and I needed a guy who could use a gun.”

  “So you wanted me for my weapon.”

  She laughed. Had to. “I’m not sure if there’s some macho double meaning there, but yeah.”

  “That’s good enough for now.”

  “There isn’t anything else.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Claire. There’s a lot between us. I don’t like it any better than you do, but it’s there beating with life and refusing to die.”

  “Luke, we shouldn’t—”

  “I know.”

  Then he was kissing her. Warm lips touched hers, sweeping and
tasting until every muscle in her body turned to liquid. His fingers found the small of her back as one arm wrapped around her waist. His mouth slanted over hers again and again. The sensual assault hit her senses from every angle and seeped into every pore.

  She wanted to forget all the fear and distrust, pain and betrayal. She wanted him. All he could give her and show her. A repeat of every second of sunshine they ever spent together.

  “Yes,” he whispered against her lips as his hand moved up to her cheek, then dived into her hair.

  She fell into the kiss, returning his sure touches with her own. Hot breaths. Guttural moans. The memories of being with him came rushing back. Not that they had ever truly left. A woman didn’t forget being overwhelmed by the joint pleasure of a man’s mouth and hands.

  Luke had that power over her.

  Which was exactly why this moment had to stop. No matter how much her body begged for the familiar feel of him, this couldn’t happen. Not now with the world upside down and so much left unsaid between them.

  She turned her head to the side and fought for air. “Luke.”

  He took advantage of the angle, kissing a trail down her neck to the base of her throat. It would be so easy to throw her head back and let him lick and taste. Instead, she slipped her fingers into his hair and gave a gentle pull.

  He broke off the kiss. With cloudy eyes and wet lips he stared at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “This. Us.”

  His chest rose and fell on hard breaths. He eased back, letting a few inches of air seep between them, but his hand didn’t move from her body. “You’re stopping?”

  Everything she could see in his eyes—desire, confusion, a shocking sense of need—she felt deep inside. “We can’t.”

  His brow knotted. “Because I got shot?”

  She thought about using that excuse. “You seemed to be doing just fine with one hand.”

  “Then is it Phil?”

  “It’s because of us.”

  Luke dropped his arm until both hung lifeless by his sides. This time he did step back. He stood only a foot away, but his sudden coldness made it seem more like a mile. “Right.”

  “Luke, I just meant—”

  He pointed at the other side of the room. “You take the bedroom.”

  The abrupt end left her reeling. “We need to talk about this. I want you to understand.”

  He rubbed his eyes. When he looked at her again, the sexual haze had disappeared. Back was the practical man who liked to bark orders. “We can either keep on doing what we’re doing or we can go to bed. Separately. You don’t get another option. Not after that lip action.”

  Her gaze traveled down his body. She could see his frustration in every line and muscle. The stiff shoulders and tight jaw, locked knees and an obvious erection pushing against his fly. Her abrupt halt left his body needing more. He was trying not to show it, not to let her know he felt anything, but the evidence was right there.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He dumped his coffee mug in the sink. “You say that a lot. Said it when you gave the ring back and walked away.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “As usual, Claire, I have no idea how to read you.” He walked out of the kitchen area. “Be here when I get up tomorrow.”

  “Where else would I go?”

  “I don’t know, but next time I might disappoint you and not come, after all.”

  Chapter Six

  Luke’s arm still ached the next morning, but his body thrummed with a very different type of sensation. They stood outside the house Claire had once shared with Phil, and the only thing on Luke’s mind was that burning kiss. Not the murder or her leaving. Just the kiss.

  Two cold showers failed to knock the vision of Claire naked out of his head. Sure, things hadn’t actually progressed that far, but they’d been well on the way. She’d put on the brakes and he respected that. But he didn’t have to like it.

  “I still don’t understand why we’re here.” She paced the grass in the secluded area behind the three-story brick mansion.

  “Nice place.”

  Her hands were in constant motion and her moves jerky and agitated. “Yeah, well, it’s not my favorite.”

  “I think I saw this in a magazine once.” To Luke it looked like a private prep school only with more security and a chandelier hanging in the window. The eight-foot black iron fence circling the property didn’t exactly welcome people to stop by. Luke couldn’t see Claire, young and vibrant, locked away in there.

  “It’s part of The Samson Family Trust,” she said.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “A corporation Phil started with his brother, Steve. They own commercial and residential properties all across the metro area.”

  “Sounds like a lucrative arrangement.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  That comment caught Luke’s attention. “I don’t pretend to be an expert, but shouldn’t a man own a house with his wife?”

  “Phil thought otherwise.”

  “Isn’t one of the benefits of marrying the rich dude that you get the big house and fancy cars?” Luke tugged on a section of gate to test its strength. Even with diminished strength from the shooting, he still had one good hand and could tell the thickness of the metal. Unless there was a weakness somewhere or a blowtorch, no way did anyone break through those bars.

  “I guess he was too busy setting me up for a murder charge.”

  “Well, there is that.” Luke scanned the windows and second-floor balcony. No way could he hoist his body up there in his current condition. They’d have to go in through a door like normal people. “I want to look at the crime scene.”

  “No.”

  Her emphatic denial made him smile. “Excuse me?”

  “The evidence is gone. It’s bagged and sitting in a locker somewhere just waiting for me to go to trial.”

  “Feeling dramatic this morning?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know a calm way to face jail time.”

  “You have a point.” He walked around the back of the house and away from the street.

  Not that traffic was an issue. The property sat on a secluded cul-de-sac in the exclusive suburb of McLean, Virginia. Country clubs and private schools littered the landscape. The yards stretched for acres and cost more than he’d earn in a lifetime of government work.

  The area was home to dignitaries, congressmen, the CIA and Claire. No wonder she’d dumped him. It would be hard for anyone to say no to all this wealth and luxury. He lived in a two-bedroom condo off Capitol Hill small enough to fit into one of the property’s four garages. Hardly competition for what Phil could give her.

  It had always been that way. Luke, the son of an army colonel who picked up and moved his life every few years. Phil, the shiny millionaire who could buy her a house anywhere. Until he settled in with the Recovery Project and proposed to Claire, nothing had ever belonged to Luke. He lost the girl, but he saved the job he’d started around the same time. The job was the only thing that kept him sane when he saw her engagement notice in the paper less than a month after she dumped him.

  Luke forced his mind back to the work. He studied the ground, looking for obvious signs of breach. He heard the rustling behind him and then she appeared by his side.

  “You could reassure me by telling me I’ll never be convicted,” she said in a dry tone.

  “I need to see inside the house first.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’ll know it when I find it.”

  “That’s kind of trite.”

  He stopped. Without thinking he rubbed his bicep through his thin sweater. The sling was back at the safe house, but the nerves still burned.

  “You came looking for me, not vice versa, remember?” he asked.

  Her eyes closed on what looked suspiciously like a wave of pain. When she opened them again, the usual sparkle had dimmed. “I know.”

  Luke’s inst
incts kicked in. She was saying something but not using any words to do it. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Yeah. I don’t have the security codes anymore.”

  Luke wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he sensed he’d dodged some big emotional scene. He exhaled long and hard. “No worries. I have this.” He held up a security card.

  “The key to your office?”

  “A little ‘get in free’ insurance.”

  When they reached the back gate, Luke slid the card into place, then hooked a cable from one end of it to his watch. Numbers and letters flashed on the small screen.

  Her toe began to tap against the thick grass. “Still insisting you don’t work for the FBI?”

  “The FBI doesn’t have anything this cool.” The lock clicked as the gate opened. “And we’re in.”

  “Won’t the police be here?”

  “Adam’s been watching the place. No one is here but us.” Luke checked and double-checked before dragging Claire with him. “Which is why we picked daytime. Don’t have to worry about turning on lights and tipping off a neighbor, though I now get that someone would need a telescope to see in here.”

  “There are cameras everywhere inside and outside.”

  “They still on?”

  She glanced at the brick patio just inside the gate but didn’t move closer. “How would I know?”

  “You did live here once, right?”

  “Phil’s brother Steve moved me out the same night I was at the police station being interrogated for seven hours.”

  “Why didn’t they arrest you then?”

  “Not enough evidence. They were waiting for the forensics to come back.”

  “So you ran.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t have married Phil in the first place.” Luke took the first steps. He walked across the patio toward the set of French doors. When he realized he was alone, he glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”

  “Depends. Are you ready to stop with the digs about Phil?”

  “Not quite yet.” When she made that face, the one that telegraphed an I’m-about-to-explode urgency, Luke changed tactics. “I need you with me in there.”