by Debra Webb
Although he was already in bed and covered to the waist, she glimpsed that impressive chest from the corner of her eye. She looked away immediately, climbed beneath the covers fully dressed and turned out the light.
She felt sure he thought she was nuts or just plain silly for not using the nightgown provided. But it was entirely too slinky, too revealing. She just couldn’t do it. Not with her already wrestling with feelings that should never have entered into this relationship. This was business…a working relationship, nothing more. They had an arrangement. She would act out her little part, Logan would nail the bad guy and then they’d shake hands and go their separate ways.
This—she inventoried the varied and fierce effect he had on her, including a rapid hammering in her chest, a hot throbbing between her thighs, and butterflies in her stomach—was not supposed to happen. Hadn’t she learned anything about men? Obviously not.
She’d awakened in his arms and wanting a lot more than just to be held by him.
She was hopeless!
And then there was Esteban. He’d flagrantly flirted with her. Hadn’t missed an opportunity to turn an innocent remark into an innuendo or a touch into a caress. The man was shameless. Then, what could one expect from a drug-smuggling, gun-running killer?
God Almighty, what was she doing here?
Oh, yes, freedom…the pursuit of happiness.
Considering the first twenty-four hours of her assignment, she doubted she’d live to enjoy either.
When she was certain Logan was in the shower and there wouldn’t be any chance of him coming back into the room, Erin hurriedly dressed in a fresh outfit. Jeans that were worn and faded and rode low on her hips. A tight ribbed sleeveless top that didn’t make it all the way to the waist of her jeans and the expensive running shoes that were the only part of her wardrobe that she had been allowed to select.
She brushed her hair and fingered gel into the top layers the way Ramon had shown her to give it lift. The spikes were out as far as she was concerned. This would have to do. Women changed their hairstyles, as well as the color, when the mood struck them. Besides, she had a lot more to worry about today than how her hair looked. She glanced at the weapons lying on the dresser. The black handgun was hers. It was a 9 mm thankfully. She’d had the most experience with that kind.
She almost laughed out loud. All of her experience had been gained in the past week, amounted to simple target practice, and had been accomplished with Logan as her teacher. Fat lot of good it had done her yesterday. She couldn’t have killed that guard when Esteban ordered her to if her life had depended upon it. Probably it had, but she’d wiggled her way out of that one…barely.
Now all she had to do was survive this little errand for the boss.
Logan stepped out of the bedroom in a pair of tight black jeans and matching T-shirt. Though his hair was still damp he looked good enough to eat.
Oh, yeah, this morning’s job was the least of her worries. Not losing her heart to Logan was going to be the biggest test of all.
“You hungry?” he asked in that deep, resonant voice that made her shiver. “I’m starved.”
She was hungry all right, but it had nothing to do with food.
A CARGO PLANE, somewhat larger and a great deal less luxurious than the one in which she and Logan had arrived in Colombia, took them to a small airstrip near Ciudad Acuna, Mexico, a stone’s throw from the Texas border. Dumb as a post, Hector Caldarone turned out to be a pretty good pilot considering what he had to work with. There was only one point where Erin thought she might lose the breakfast she’d hastily wolfed down that morning. But things had settled down once the aircraft had skidded to a halt.
On the ground there wasn’t much to see outside the primitive airstrip and the waiting SUVs. A panel van sporting the logo of a well-known courier service arrived shortly after they landed. Four armed men stood silently by, most likely awaiting instructions. The Caldarone brothers spoke quietly to one of the men while several of the others hurriedly hid the plane in a dilapidated barn-turned-warehouse nearby. The group was then separated into three teams. She and Logan would ride with Hector and Carlos. Two of the men would stay behind to guard the plane, while the others climbed into the remaining vehicles.
A short time later, they were in position. According to Carlos’s briefing, the truck was headed to the military’s newest training center in an undisclosed area of southern Texas. The weapons they carried were a new prototype that would make the M16 and its subsequent upgrades obsolete.
This information meant little to Erin other than it was probably dangerous. It amazed her that she was standing here, beneath the scorching Texas sun waiting for a load of military weapons to arrive so she could help steal them.
The reality erupted inside her like a train exploding from a dark tunnel. She could be killed in the next few minutes. People who stole things—especially weapons—were, more often than not, shot at. She didn’t know how to do any of this. She was just a computer security analyst with too much time on her hands. One who’d been tricked into breaking the law. Just look where that momentary stupidity had gotten her.
Laughter bubbled into her throat. This was insane. She turned to Logan and almost said as much…almost. She opened her mouth and nothing came out. Her heart slammed so mercilessly against her sternum that she simply could not speak. Yet he looked as cool as the proverbial cucumber.
She could not do this.
No way.
She didn’t belong here.
Trouble. Logan saw it in Bailey’s eyes. He’d seen that look one other time and she’d gone postal on him then. He glanced furtively at the other men lounging patiently near their vehicles. This was not a good time for her to lose it. His gaze landed back on hers at the same time her hand went slack and the weapon there dropped to the ground.
Damn.
If anyone noticed… He did the only thing he could. He grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her. Kissed her hard. She whimpered at first and shoved against his chest, but he just kissed her that much harder. Forcing her lips apart and invading the sweet, hot territory beyond. A new kind of tension zipped through him, hardening every muscle that wasn’t already on red alert. Her mouth softened beneath his and he eased off on the pressure, allowing the kiss to evolve into something else…something that had nothing to do with shutting her up.
The men laughed and made lewd remarks, but otherwise didn’t pay the two of them more than passing notice.
Fire heated Logan’s loins, racing through his limbs, making him want to drag her down to the sand and—
Damn.
He pulled back. Set her away from him.
He’d almost lost all perspective there. It was bad enough one of them already had.
She blinked to banish the haze of lust from her eyes. As he held her gaze he pressed one finger to her lips and shook his head ever so slightly. He hoped like hell she understood that this was definitely not the time to lose it. Most of these guys were the trigger-happy types. It wouldn’t take much to send any one of them on a shooting rampage.
She drew in a ragged breath, then bent down and retrieved her weapon. When she’d straightened, folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the SUV as if all were well, he finally took a breath.
Close.
Too close.
Twenty minutes passed with no contact from the rest of the ground support team. Hector Caldarone had started to pace restlessly.
Logan braced himself for the worst. Any time a job went sour, bad things happened.
“Something is wrong,” Hector announced the obvious.
Carlos muttered something inaudible in Spanish.
“The truck will come,” Jose, the apparent leader of the ground support team, urged. “You will see.” He nodded adamantly. “It will come.”
As he studied Jose’s body language, the hair on the back of Logan’s neck suddenly stood on end. The guy was one of the group who’d arrived in the panel van. He was entirely
too agitated. Yet he insisted that all was as it should be, as if he were trying to convince himself, as well as those around him. He knew something.
Hector swore heatedly as he continued to pace. This was his run. Logan was certain he didn’t want anything to go wrong. Esteban would likely hold him personally responsible.
Instinct still nagging at him, Logan took a few steps toward the panel van, as if he, too, intended to pace out his impatience. When he reached the overly enthusiastic Jose, their gazes locked. Logan saw the truth he couldn’t hide in the man’s eyes. In one rapid motion, Logan pivoted and pressed the barrel of his weapon to Jose’s forehead.
“What is it you’re not telling us, amigo?”
The click of weapons engaging echoed behind him. Logan ignored it.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hector demanded.
“This guy knows something’s up,” Logan explained, his gaze never leaving Jose’s terror filled eyes. Oh, yeah, this guy was scared. He knew something big. “It’s a setup, isn’t it?” Logan suggested. “Maybe that truck isn’t even coming. Or maybe we’re sitting ducks.”
“It’s coming! It’s coming! I swear it!” Jose cried.
“Don’t move!”
The command came from Bailey somewhere behind Logan. He tensed. That couldn’t be good, he estimated with mushrooming dread. He glanced over his shoulder and his heart stalled in his chest.
Damn.
She’d stepped between him and one of the other guys from the panel van. She held her weapon in both hands aimed right in the guy’s face. Logan swore again.
“What is this?” Hector shouted, desperation making his voice too high-pitched.
Carlos threw up his hands and cursed everyone present and then their mothers, respectively. “Just shoot them,” he insisted impatiently. “Esteban will kill us all anyway!”
“I’m telling you, Hector,” Bailey cut in. “Logan knows what he’s talking about. He can feel these things,” she added.
Smooth, Logan admitted. Very smooth.
“You’d better do something,” Bailey urged when no one acted on her suggestion. “We may not have much time.”
Logan tossed Jose’s weapon away. “I’d listen to her if I were you, Hector.” Logan stared straight into the eyes of the man at the business end of his weapon. “We’ve been had.”
Five seconds turned into ten and nobody moved. Logan shoved his prisoner toward Carlos. “Just ask him nicely and see if I’m right.” Logan turned immediately to Bailey and quickly took charge of the guy she had under a bead. Logan glared at her. She frowned, then shrugged as if to say, “What’d I do?” When this was over…
He shook his head. If either of them lived long enough to call it over, it would be no small miracle.
The interrogation that followed took only about five minutes. Ten minutes after that the hijacked truck arrived, driven by friends of the two dead men hidden behind the panel van. The two newcomers quickly joined their friends. The crates of weapons were swiftly transferred to the panel van. The traitors were left for nature and the environment to take care of cleanup detail.
The two men who guarded the plane suffered the same fate as the other traitors.
Logan didn’t breathe easy until the weapons were loaded onto the aircraft and they were back in the air. Esteban would not be happy that his supposedly loyal supporter in Texas had turned traitor on him. According to the man Hector had questioned, his boss had decided to hijack the weapons for another buyer. One thing that could be counted on, Esteban would not rest until he’d settled this nasty business with his man in Texas. Logan wondered if the traitor knew he was dead already.
Right now, Logan had his own problems. He glanced at Bailey. He wasn’t happy with her at all. She’d taken a hell of a risk jumping into the middle of a tense situation like that. What could she have been thinking? She wasn’t trained for that sort of thing. Hell, she barely knew how to fire a weapon much less make a move like that. He clenched his jaw to keep from ranting at her now.
It would have to wait until they could talk…which might not be any time soon.
ERIN WAS PRETTY SURE she’d never seen anyone get as angry as Esteban had. She reached into the shower and twisted the knobs allowing the water time to heat up while she undressed. She checked her ugly bruise in the mirror. The lump was pretty much gone, but her temple and part of her cheek looked absolutely awful and was immensely tender.
She studied her reflection a moment longer. She’d done good today. Even after almost losing it at first, she’d stopped that guy from jumping Logan, killing him probably. Pride welled in her chest. That’s right. She’d most likely saved the ungrateful jerk’s life, and he’d been upset with her since. She couldn’t figure it out. Hector and Carlos thought she was muy bueno! But Logan treated her like a refugee from the enemy camp.
What did it take to please the man?
The memory of that bare chest and how it had felt to be locked in those strong arms practically melted her. And that kiss he’d laid on her today!—it was all that had saved her from going schizoid.
She might not ever know what pleased Logan, but she definitely knew what tripped her trigger—he did.
She sighed and glared into the mirror in self-disgust. What a mess. She couldn’t do anything right. If she lived through this mission she would never see Logan again. She stared at the tiny gold band on her hand. None of this was real. Not even the strength and courage she’d suddenly possessed when she thought Logan’s life was in danger.
It was all make-believe…pretend. They were both just playing their part. Very soon it would be over one way or another.
No point fretting over it, she decided as she kicked off her sneakers and reached for the snap of her jeans. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen for the wrong guy. She sighed again. But why did this suddenly feel like the only one that counted?
The bathroom door burst open and Logan barged in.
“I’m taking a shower,” she snapped, whirling to face him and suddenly feeling as if she’d somehow inadvertently telegraphed her previous thoughts to him. The way he looked made her shiver. Color heated her cheeks.
“So am I,” he growled.
Her eyes rounded in surprise, her mouth dropped open, but before she could demand an explanation, he grabbed her and backed her into the shower. The moment they were both fully inside he closed the door and glared down at her.
The hot water sprayed down on them like a thousand tiny needles, plastering their shirts to their bodies. Steam billowed, adding another layer of tension. When she regained her senses and would have yelled at him, one strong hand clamped over her mouth.
He pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Don’t make a sound. Just listen.”
Fear surged through her. Had something happened? Had their covers been blown? If they tried to run, where could they go? Her heart lurched. Oh damn. And here she’d thought they’d saved the day…earned a little of Esteban’s respect.
“Don’t ever do anything as stupid as what you did today again. Do you understand me?” he murmured, his voice harsh, impatient.
He drew back and glowered down at her. Frowning her confusion, she shook her head to indicate that she didn’t understand.
His lips brushed the shell of her ear once more. “That man could have killed you,” he growled savagely. “You’re not trained for that kind of exchange. From now on you stay in the background. Got it?”
Fury ignited inside her, burning away the fear she’d felt only moments before. When he would have drawn back she gripped him by the shoulders and jerked him back to her. She told him in no uncertain terms where he could go and what he could do when he got there. “Comprende?” she muttered tightly, then shoved the door open in invitation for him to get the hell out of her shower.
The staring contest lasted less than ten seconds. He stormed out of the glass cubicle, wet black cotton molding to every perfect contour of that awesome body. Swearing silently, Erin
leaned back against the slick wall and closed her eyes. He slammed the door behind him. Glass rattled. She jumped then forced a couple more slow, deep breaths as the hot water continued to shower down on her. She really was an idiot. She had risked her life for the jerk and he had the nerve to dash it in her face.
Muttering every curse word she knew and some she’d only heard the guards around here use, she peeled off her soaked clothes, tossed them out the door, and continued with her shower. Maybe if she took her time she’d use up all the hot water. That thought brought a smile to her lips. A cold shower would be good for a hothead like Logan.
Later, when she’d once more put off the inevitable until the last possible minute, she climbed into bed with him. She kept as close to the edge and as far away as possible. She might have to sleep with him, but she didn’t have to get close to him…she didn’t even have to like it.
Sadly though, she did like it.
She could hear him breathing—slow, steady breaths. She could smell his masculine scent. Unfortunately she could remember all too well how it felt to be in his arms.
Erin squeezed her eyes shut and forced all thoughts of Logan from her mind. All she had to do was go to sleep then she wouldn’t have to think. But she would dream…
Her eyes popped open wide.
She was screwed.
There was no escape.
In one way or another, she’d been just as much a prisoner since entering Logan’s custody as she had been in the penitentiary.
Nothing had changed.
No, that wasn’t right.
Everything had changed.
Chapter Eight
“Three days,” Esteban reiterated. “It has been three days since the traitor tried to steal my weapons and still he has not been found.”
Logan waited patiently for him to go on. He’d been raving for the past half hour without really saying anything at all. He paced back and forth behind his elegant mahogany desk and blew off steam about how he couldn’t find his former business associate in Texas. Logan wasn’t even sure why he was here, in Esteban’s private office, listening to his tirade and watching him wear a hole in the expensive carpet.
