Never Say Spy (The Never Say Spy Series Book 1)

by Diane Henders

  “Thanks for everything. You guys were great, and I really appreciate all you did for me.”

  Germain rose and offered me a handshake that turned into a hug. “Let’s do it again sometime when you’re not in mortal danger.”

  “Good plan.” I smiled. “Spider, thanks.”

  He got up and hugged me, too. “Take care.”

  “You, too. Be safe, you guys. Say goodbye and thanks to Wheeler for me.”

  “Will do.”

  My rigid muscles threatened to give way with shaky relief when we stepped out into the cold gray light of dawn. I leaned heavily on the handrail beside the front step and drew in a long, trembling breath. “I’ll never take liberty for granted again.”

  Kane gave me a half-smile. “Did you ever?”

  “Once, a very long time ago. Not in the last few decades.”

  He nodded, looking thoughtful, and we drove to the farm in silence. He cleared the house one last time, and we said an awkward goodbye on the front porch.

  Hellhound arrived in the afternoon, and we loaded my tools and got on the road. Less preoccupied with my own problems than on the previous trip, I gradually discovered the keen mind he camouflaged with his habitual bad grammar and ribald humour. The two-hour trip flew by while we conversed easily. When we pulled into my driveway, he glanced up at the house. “Nice place.”

  “Yeah, I can hardly wait to sell it.”

  “Why, darlin’? Bad memories?”

  I smiled, feeling wistful. “No. Good memories.”

  He looked puzzled, but I didn’t elaborate as we carried the tools inside and upstairs. I stopped at the top of the landing.

  “Shit.”

  The door was split, hanging off a single hinge at the top. The jamb and casing were splintered on the latch side, but the latchset still seemed intact. I tried to turn the knob, and the latch jammed.

  “Shit!”

  “Somebody hit this door hard,” Hellhound observed. “Musta been a pretty big guy.”

  “Yeah, glad I didn’t meet him,” I replied absently, examining the wall with growing irritation. “Damn. That asshole buggered up the drywall, too. Now I’m going to have to buy an entire new sheet of drywall just to repair this one little spot on the wall because I didn’t think to bring one of the million fucking pieces I just moved up to Silverside. Goddammit!”

  I scowled up at the remaining bent hinge. “New door. New jamb. New casing. New stop. New hardware. Bodywork for my car. New fucking drywall. Fill, sand, paint. A week of my fucking life gone. Thank you, Fuzzy Fucking Bunny. Aargh!”

  I snarled and wrenched the door off. A chunk of wood splintered out of the frame with a crack. I swore some more as I staggered over and threw the broken door down on the bed, hunching over to support myself beside it while I nursed my protesting bruise.

  “Ow! Not to mention getting the shit beat out of me by some fucking lowlife buttcrack...”

  I paused in my tirade at the sight of Hellhound’s expression. “Darlin’, are ya feelin’ okay?” he asked cautiously.

  I breathed deeply, reaching for calm. It eluded me.

  “No, I am not feeling okay! I am feeling pissed off! And if that asshole Sandler was still alive, I’d shoot the fucker to ribbons all over again, starting with his big fucking ugly dick, the smarmy self-important asswipe! This is all his fault! And I have to clean up the fucking mess!”

  Hellhound moved into the room and sat on the bed, reaching to stroke one of my clenched fists. “Darlin’, ya ain’t makin’ much sense.”

  “No, and I can’t, either. Fucking NDA. Forget everything I just said.”

  He frowned. “NDA. Oh, the non-disclosure agreement. So you’re sayin’ this’d make sense if ya could tell me about it.”

  I did some more deep breathing. This time I managed civility. “Yeah. Sorry, you didn’t need to listen to all that. This is why I live alone.”

  He shrugged. “Ya had a tough week. Come on, let’s go get somethin’ to eat. It’s dinner time, and I know ya gotta be hungry.”

  My stomach agreed with an audible growl, and he laughed. I let him shepherd me out of the room and down the stairs, still trying to get my temper under control. When we walked by my car, the sight of the bullet holes made me clench my teeth to keep the profanity from spilling out again. I stalked to Hellhound’s SUV and got in, breathing deeply. In. Out. Ocean waves.

  He eyed my clenched fists with concern. “Let it go, darlin’. It’s just things. What matters is you’re okay.”

  “Yeah,” I gritted. “Just things. Things I have to pay for out of my own pocket.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and concentrating on relaxing my hands. I rolled my neck and shoulders and took another slow, deliberate breath.

  “You’re right,” I told him after a short pause. “The good guys are undamaged, despite my best efforts, and the bad guys took some serious losses. That’s about as good as it’s going to get. Sorry for the whining. I’m all better now.”

  He smiled. “No problem. Ya just gotta blow off steam sometimes. What d’ya wanna eat?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to go to Kelly’s because my friends will all be there tomorrow for lunch, and I’m going to lie low. I don’t want Alanna to tell them I’m here. Take me wherever you like to go. I like everything.”

  “Ya avoidin’ your friends?”

  “Just for this week. I really don’t want to deal with the ‘how was your week’ question right now. And by next weekend the bruises should be gone.”

  He nodded and put the SUV in gear. “D’ya like sushi?”

  “Love it! And none of my friends can stand it. I’m in serious withdrawal.”

  “You’re gonna like this, then.” He drove for a few minutes before steering the SUV into a small strip mall. When we walked in, the sushi chef greeted him warmly by name. We took seats side by side at the back of the sushi bar, overlooking the entrance and the rest of the tiny restaurant.

  “The one good thing about this week has been that I don’t have to explain my seating choices.” I grinned at Hellhound. “Nice to hang out with a bunch that’s as paranoid as I am.”

  He eyed me appreciatively. “Nice to hang out with a woman who gets it. My question is, why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why d’ya always sit with your back to the wall?”

  I laughed and explained the bar scenario to him. From there, the conversation wandered to biker bars, then motorcycles and music while we drank hot sake and enjoyed the delicate, flavourful sushi.

  Finally, I pushed the last plate away. “That was amazing. I can’t believe I never knew this place was here. I’m definitely coming back.”

  “Call me if ya do,” Hellhound urged. “I get better service when I got a gorgeous redhead with me.”

  I laughed and handed the server my credit card. “This is on me. Thanks for everything. I’d have been dead a couple of times over if not for you. A sushi dinner isn’t much of a payback for saving my life, but it’s a start.”

  He gently captured my hand, turning it over to stroke lightly down the inside of my wrist and palm. He gave me an intimate smile.

  “Ya know how ya can pay me back, darlin’,” he growled, his voice hitting that low note that vibrated through my body.

  I shivered, all the heat and desire rushing back in an instant.

  Goddammit, you only live once. And I’d come damn close to not living through this at all. My heart sucker-punched my ribs before launching itself up to beat a hasty tattoo in my throat.

  “Yes.” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, and I pulled away to sink my face into my hands. “God help me. Yes.”

  Silence.

  “Aydan, I was just jokin’ around. Ya don’t owe me a thing. An’ I don’t want anythin’ ya don’t wanna give.”

  I sighed and raised my head. He was frowning at me.

  “What kind of an asshole d’ya think I am?” he asked.

  I took his h
and, stroking his lean, strong fingers. “I don’t think you’re an asshole. I know you were only joking around. But you got me wrong. I didn’t mean ‘God help me, I don’t want to do this but I have to’. I meant ‘God help me, I want this so much and it’s probably a really bad idea’.”

  I met his eyes, willing him to understand. “Arnie, I really want you tonight. But I’m so fucked up I should come with a warning label. The smartest thing you could do is take me home, kick me out of your truck, and drive away as fast as you can.”

  He grinned. “I never did the smart thing before, so why start now?” His smile faded, his brows coming together. “Ya kinda surprised me, darlin’. I got a few warnin’ labels a’ my own, so if you’re serious, we gotta talk.”

  I gave him a faint smile. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s get the warnin’ labels outta the way first an’ see how it goes.”

  “I was talking about the warning labels,” I said with dignity.

  “Come on,” he said. “I gotta go home an’ feed the cat anyway, an’ there’s beer at my place.” When I eyed him uncertainly, he added, “No hard feelin’s, no strings attached. Whichever way it plays out.”

  We left the restaurant holding hands.

  Chapter 44

  At Hellhound’s apartment, Hooker greeted us with purrs and hoarse meows, winding around our ankles until his dish was filled. Reaching into the fridge, Arnie pulled out a couple of bottles and handed me one. “Sorry, no Corona.”

  I shrugged. “Beer is beer.”

  We went into the living room, and he sat in his chair while I curled my feet under me on the couch across from him. We drank a few swallows of beer in silence and assessed each other awkwardly.

  Hellhound cleared his throat. “Aydan, I like ya a lot, so I’m gonna be straight with ya. If you’re lookin’ for a little romp an’ a few laughs, I’m your man. But if you’re the type to get attached, you’re gonna get hurt. ‘Cause I don’t do attached.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank God. You took the words right out of my mouth. I’ve done attached. I don’t want to do it again.”

  His face brightened. “It’s not that simple, though,” I warned him. “I don’t have any gifts that keep on giving, and I don’t want any. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

  He laughed. “That was gonna be my next question for ya. I got a clean bill a’ health, too, darlin’. I done a lotta dumb things in my time, but bein’ dumb about protection ain’t one of ‘em.”

  I relaxed. “One more thing then. I’m not offering you any kind of commitment, and I don’t want it from you, either. Strictly casual. No expectations, no strings attached.”

  “Darlin’, we’re on the same page. No possessive, needy bullshit. No lies.”

  “Deal, as long as you promise not to lie to me, either.”

  He nodded, and we smiled at each other in the short silence.

  “Any other warning labels?” I asked.

  He shook his head, his smile becoming more intimate. I dropped my gaze to concentrate on my beer bottle while I picked at the label. “I have one really, really big warning label left.” I met his eyes, making sure he was listening.

  He sobered. “What is it?”

  I paused, fumbling for words. This was harder than I thought it would be.

  “My husband…” I began.

  “You’re married?” He leaned back in his chair, frowning.

  “Let me finish. My husband died two years ago.”

  “Oh. Sorry, darlin’.”

  I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees. “It was a heart attack. He was only forty-eight. Your age.”

  I paused again, staring at the carpet. I took a deep breath. “He had a massive heart attack while we were having sex. He died in my arms. Fair warning. I wasn’t joking when I made that crack about you having a heart attack if I took you to bed. The last man to get on this ride didn’t get off alive.”

  The couch dipped as Hellhound sat beside me, and his arm closed around my shoulders. “Darlin’, when it’s your time to go, it’s your time. That hadta be tough. But my heart’s just fine. Nothin’ to worry about.” He stroked my hair, then tilted my chin up to study me. “So, what d’ya say?”

  I smiled up into his ugly face and gentle eyes. “Yes.”

  He ran his fingers slowly through my hair and kissed me softly. “I been wantin’ to do that for days,” he breathed.

  I kissed him back harder. Our kisses heated up, hands beginning to explore. His fingertips traced the curve of my breast as his tongue brushed my lips. Lightning shot through my body and started a three-alarm fire in the underbrush. I sucked in a breath of pure hot lust and pulled him closer.

  I felt his smile against my lips. “I’m a little too old to be makin’ out on a couch, darlin’. Let’s adjourn to my office.” He stood, raising me with him, and we exchanged a few more blazing kisses on the way to the bedroom.

  Inside, he swung the door shut with his foot. “No need to corrupt the cat.”

  I giggled. “Or risk him taking a swing at the dangly bits.”

  I linked my arms around his neck and he kissed me slowly, sliding his hands under my T-shirt. When he lifted it over my head, I arched my back to press against him. My breath caught when I made contact with the hard bulge in his jeans and a shiver of hunger shook me.

  His hands slid down to cup my ass and pull me closer while he kissed my throat. I couldn’t hold back a moan when the kisses trailed down to my cleavage, his whiskers an erotically rough counterpoint to the smooth heat of his lips.

  He paused, his breathing almost as unsteady as mine. “I don’t wanna hurt ya. You’re so beat up.” His fingertips glided over my black and blue stomach.

  I giggled and pulled away. “Don’t, I’m ticklish.”

  He gave me a slow smile. “I got a cure for that.” He reached over and undid my jeans, sliding them slowly down my legs. “Darlin’, ya shouldn’t hide a body like that under clothes,” he said hoarsely as I stepped out of them.

  “Then you’d better hurry and get them off me.”

  He pulled me close and kissed me deeply as he backed me further into the room.

  My God, the man knew how to kiss. If I’d actually needed any convincing, those lips and that tongue would have been more than enough to do it. My knees went liquid with anticipation, my breath coming faster while his strong musician’s hands slid over my body.

  When we reached the bed, he lowered me to it, still giving me those magical kisses until I lay on my back, smiling up at him.

  He straightened, his gaze fixed on me. When he peeled off his T-shirt, I moved my hips in sensuous invitation and parted my legs, and his eyes blazed hotter. He dropped his jeans at the foot of the bed and knelt between my feet, his hand skimming lightly from my ankle to my thigh.

  And I froze at a horrid glimpse of Sandler at my feet, his loathsome touch slithering up my leg.

  Hellhound hesitated, then stretched out on the bed beside me without touching me again. He propped himself on one elbow and scrutinized me, looking puzzled and uncertain. I quickly shook off the bad memory and reached to pull him to me.

  He refused to be pulled. “Aydan, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I scooted closer to make contact between our bodies and reached to fondle him, but he caught my hand and held it.

  “If ya don’t wanna do this, just say so.”

  I moaned frustration. “I want this. I want you. Now. Please.”

  He frowned. “Then tell me what I’m doin’ wrong.”

  “You’re not doing anything wrong. Don’t stop.”

  “Bullshit.” He shook his head, confusion turning to hurt in his eyes. “Ya went stiff as a board. D’ya think I wouldn’t notice? I thought we promised no lies.”

  I debated arguing further, but I could tell from the stubborn set of his jaw that he wouldn’t buy it. And the way his expression was closing down, I was pretty sure i
f I didn’t come up with a plausible story, I’d be spending another frustrated night flying solo.

  Goddammit!

  I sighed and gave up hope for easy, uncomplicated sex. “I… Like I told you earlier, I’m a little messed up right now.” I searched for words. “I was just… dealing with some shit from yesterday. That’s all. Nothing to do with you.”

  The wheels turned behind his shrewd eyes as his brow furrowed. His face darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice was like flint. “That fuckin’ asshole Sandler. He tried to rape ya yesterday.”

  Shock convulsed my body. “What?”

  His expression hardened. “Tried? Or succeeded?”

  “Tried,” I said dazedly. “What… how…?”

  “Aw, darlin’,” he rasped. He cuddled me close and stroked my hair. “It ain’t rocket science. Ya already told me, I just didn’t get it right away.”

  “What? I didn’t…”

  “Ya said, ‘if that asshole Sandler was still alive, I’d shoot the fucker to ribbons all over again, startin’ with his big fuckin’ ugly dick’,” he quoted my own words back to me verbatim. “Ya were in rough shape when I found ya yesterday. An’ the way ya tensed up when I touched ya just now, it ain’t hard to figure out.”

  I pulled away, gaping at him. “That’s the last time I mouth off to you. I keep forgetting you’re a P.I. Do you have a photographic memory or something?”

  He raised his eyebrows, his expression wry. “That’s why I’m good at what I do, darlin’. Nobody expects a dumb, ugly biker to be payin’ attention.”

  I gathered my scattered wits. “I certainly never thought you were dumb.” Which was true. But I hadn’t recognized exactly how smart he was, either. Chalk one up for the dumb biker disguise.

  Suddenly realizing what I’d not said, I added, “And there’s nothing wrong with the way you look. It works for you.”

  He chuckled. “No need to be tactful, darlin’, I look in the mirror every mornin’. That’s why I was surprised when ya said ya wanted me.”

  I poked him in the ribs. “As if. I bet you’ve got the ladies falling all over you. All you have to do is pick up your guitar and sing them a song, and down they go.”