by Dawn Atkins
Boone moved on. The hallway. The guest bedroom. The back porch. The collection of bugs grew. Most of them were listening devices, but some were also cameras. The freak understood about security grids, so that there were pitifully few places for Christie to hide.
He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the prick.
The first hints of daylight were changing the sky when Boone felt as if he could stop. He wasn’t finished. He wanted to do more sophisticated tests, but that could wait until he’d caught a few hours of sleep.
Besides, it looked like Milo, who’d been following him from room to room, carrying his mangled bone, wasn’t going to rest until he did.
Instead of going to the guest room, which was too far away from the doors, Boone would crash in the living room. He’d left the computer running, his software checking every line of code. By the time he woke up, he should know exactly what the geek had planted.
There was only one more thing he had to do before he could rest. In four different spots in the house, Boone put in four different cameras. His own. Not to spy on Christie, but to catch the geek. Maybe he wouldn’t need them, but Boone wasn’t a man to take chances. He also put a bug in the phone. If the stalker called again, Boone wanted a record.
After running a quick check to make sure everything was running properly, he went to the living room and decided the couch was too narrow, so he stretched out on the floor. Milo joined him, not touching, but close. Boone closed his eyes, and he was gone.
3
CHRISTIE HEADED TOWARD THE GUEST ROOM, tightening the belt of her robe and wondering just how much of last night was real, when she saw him on the floor.
He was on his back. No pillow, no blanket. Just flat out, his mouth slightly open, his right arm flung across his chest. Milo, who was curled up next to Boone’s hip, looked up at her questioningly, as if defending his choice of sleepmates.
Okay, so the Boone part hadn’t been a dream. Which meant the bugs and cameras weren’t, either.
She headed to the kitchen and got busy making coffee. She felt odd, and not just because of the stranger in her home. After the fourth scoop of Sumatra Mandheling, it dawned on her that she felt rested. Not week-in-a-spa rested, but it was the first morning in ages she could actually see clearly. More than that, the panic that had become her heartbeat was gone. No, not gone. Dampened. Definitely dampened.
In theory, Boone could be the bastard. Somehow, though, she didn’t think so. He would have tried something last night. She’d crashed in bed, he’d disabled the phone and she had no weapons. He already knew that if she were too scared, she passed out like a little girl. Instead, he’d gone to sleep on the floor of her living room. She didn’t understand that part at all. There was a perfectly nice guest bedroom just down the hall—so, what, he had a bad back?
What she needed was coffee and an explanation. She desperately wanted him to be just what he said he was. It embarrassed her to realize how badly she needed to be rescued. Her, the woman who’d built her life around the fact that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. That the knight in shining armor was nothing but a myth. And a destructive one at that.
She poured the water into the coffeemaker and pressed the On button. The gurgle was a welcome sound, as was the click of doggie nails on the bamboo floor. Turning to face a very guilty-looking Milo, she crossed her arms and gave him the glare. “Breakfast time and who loves Mom now, huh? Didn’t your new best friend bring kibble, too?”
“Nope. Forgot it.”
Christie looked up to find Boone, his hair sticking up and his shirt wrinkled, standing just outside the kitchen.
“Is that coffee?”
“It is.”
“You have cream?”
“Milk.”
“It’ll do. I’ll be back.” He turned and headed toward the bathroom.
She looked at Milo. “What do you see in him? Besides his big bone?”
Milo wagged his tail, but that was probably more to do with the fact that she’d picked up his bowl than any prurient interest in Boone.
As she gave Milo his two scoops, she had yet another revelation. She’d made a joke. An admittedly poor joke, but still. Nothing had been funny, not since that first phone call. She put the dog dish down and when she stood, she pushed her hair back. It was longer than she liked it, and she hadn’t had highlights in four months. Hair care, along with other nonessentials such as eating and sleeping, had slipped away as she’d been forced into her nightmare existence. Seems, however, that like her sense of humor, she’d discovered she still had some vanity left, and she wished she’d showered before coming into the kitchen.
When Boone joined her, he’d changed into a plain white T-shirt and a faded pair of jeans. Her idea of him as a businessman fell away as he reached down to pet Milo. The muscles of his back strained the shirt, making her wonder how he kept in such good shape. Of course, her gaze shifted downward and his jeans were just tight enough for her to see the curve of his small, tight, high rear end. Not that she had any prurient interest, either.
He stood and she blushed.
“Coffee?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I’m going to take a shower. Help yourself. And don’t leave. We need to talk.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
She headed to her room, curious, concerned, confused. But she couldn’t interrogate someone while in her bathrobe. After gathering her clothes, she went into her shower, making the water as hot as she could stand it. She’d had three nozzles installed, not just one, and they hit her in all the right places. Head, upper back, lower back. Perfect to release tension. Maybe today it would do just that.
THE PHONE RANG WHILE SHE WAS in the shower. Boone went to the living room and checked that the answering machine was on. After four rings, the message played—Christie’s voice, no nonsense, nothing provocative. Just a request for a name and number after the tone.
The voice he heard after that wasn’t so benign. He knew immediately that it was distorted by a digital signal processor, and there was a low electronic hum in the background so that nothing could be traced.
“Naughty girl, Christie. You know we can’t let your friend come between us. If he leaves now, he won’t get hurt. And neither will you.”
There was a click, and then the dial tone. Boone opened the answering machine and lifted out the tape. Despite the tricks the prick had used, Boone was going to let Seth give it a look.
He went back to the kitchen, debating the wisdom of telling Christie about the call. She was upset enough. What she needed now was confidence. The decision made, he went back to his duffel and put the tape in a small bag, ready for Seth. He’d drop it off later.
He poured her a cup of coffee as soon as he heard her in the hallway. He’d already had one, but another wouldn’t go to waste. If he was going to be here for a while, he’d have to get to the market. She didn’t have much, and he was a stickler for his coffee his way. Besides, she needed to put on some pounds.
She walked in, changed from her robe into a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt that he guessed used to be her size. The jeans were big, and where the shirt had a V he could see too much bone and not enough flesh. Shopping, definitely. After he’d done another sweep outside. He wasn’t taking any chances. By tonight, he’d know everything the geek had planted in or around her house. He’d check out her car, too.
“Is this for me?” She nodded at the mug he’d poured.
“Yeah.”
Her look was more suspicious than grateful.
“You had questions?” he asked.
She went to the fridge and got out her low-fat milk, then to the cupboard for a packet of sugar substitute. When the coffee was to her liking, she sat down across from him. “Tell me about you and Nate.”
“We met at Fort Bragg. We’d both been recruited into the First Special Forces Operational Detachment, and we trained together. He became a team leader, I was the radioman. There were four of us, basicall
y, and some UN personnel. We were all together in that picture I showed you. We did a lot of hairy missions. Never lost a man. Never fell short of the objective.”
“Nate would never tell me what he did. Just that he was working for God and country.”
Boone could hear him say just that. In bars, mostly, when he was trying to impress the ladies. As if he’d needed a line. The women fell all over him. Not that Boone had done so badly, but he’d never been the magnet Nate was.
“Why are you smiling?”
He hadn’t realized he was. “Just remembering.”
Christie leaned forward, and he could see the hunger in her eyes. The need to hear about her brother, lost so young.
“He was hell on wheels when we were out of pocket. It didn’t matter where we were. D.C. or Kenya or Panama. He’d own the room before we left, and leave them wanting.”
She bit her lower lip, and he wasn’t sure if it was to stop from laughing or crying.
“I can’t tell you how many times he’d fall back into his cot at three in the morning, totally AWOL, drunker than shit, then get up an hour later and outrun the whole team on the obstacle course. I still don’t know how he did it.”
“God, he was just like that at home. Not the drinking part, he was too young, but he was always sneaking out of the house, and he never got caught. I ditch one day of school, and I’m on restriction for life.”
“Sounds right.” He drank some coffee, more for the distance than the taste. He wasn’t here to get nostalgic and emotional. In fact, the last thing he needed was to care about anything but the job. He’d need to be on his game, and there was nothing that screwed up a man faster than letting his defenses down. “He talked about you.”
“Yeah?”
Boone nodded. “He worried about you. But he was proud. Real proud.”
She turned to look at Milo for a long minute. The dog wagged his tail at the attention, then came to her for a pet. “He was a great brother, until a couple of years ago. Then, I don’t know.” She looked at Boone again. “He changed. He got paranoid, and he hardly ever called. When he did, he wouldn’t tell me squat. Just that he was in the middle of something. I only saw him the one time—”
She stood up and put her mug in the microwave. “What were you guys doing in Kosovo?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Great. That’s just perfect. And I’m supposed to trust you with my life?”
“Yeah, you are. And I’d hope you’d realize that my silence, Nate’s silence, was for your protection.”
“Spy central. Jesus. Don’t you know your big-boy games can get people killed?”
“Yeah. I know. But that’s not the issue now. What’s on the table is the stalker and how we’re going to stop him.”
“Wait.” The microwave dinged and she came back to the table with the steaming coffee. “I’m not finished with the question portion. What’s with the pizza parlor?”
Boone bit back his impatience. She was scared, she didn’t know him from Adam and he needed to make her trust him. “It’s got a special phone. One that monitors calls from the old team. Just in case.”
“In case what?”
“Things didn’t exactly end for any of us. Not for Nate, not for me. We needed a way to communicate with each other that wouldn’t get us noticed. So we have Gino’s.”
“Didn’t end? You mean something bad went down in Kosovo, don’t you? Something that shouldn’t have happened. And someone isn’t happy about it, right? That’s why Nate left the service. That’s why he was killed.”
Boone nodded.
“Great. Are the feds going to bust in here and arrest us both? Because, while it would solve the stalker problem, it doesn’t seem like the best possible outcome.”
“Now I really know you’re Nate’s sister. Don’t worry. No one knows I’m here. No one’s going to. And while this has been fascinating, we have work to do.”
“What kind of work?”
He leaned forward, glad the Q & A was over, although a little surprised she hadn’t pressed for more. “I’ve written an e-mail I want you to send. The geek installed key-logging software on your computer, and I want to use that.”
“Wait, what?”
“Do you know what key-logging is?”
“Yeah. It’s for wives who want to spy on their husbands.”
“And for stalkers who want to spy on their victims.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her brown eyes were serious and determined. “Fine. Whatever it takes. I want him taken out.”
“Can you use that gun of yours?”
“Well enough.”
“You hadn’t released the safety. When you came to shoot me in the hall.”
“Oh.”
“Can you defend yourself, hand-to-hand?”
She lifted that right eyebrow of hers, and he had to admit, even with all that had gone down with her, she was still a great-looking woman. Too bad this was work.
“You will.” He stood up, took his cup to the sink and rinsed it out. “I want to do that e-mail, then we’re going to the store. From today on, you eat, and you eat well.” He turned and gave her his no-excuses glare. “You’ll sleep, too. But mostly, you’re going to do everything I say. Got it?”
TOUCHING THE COMPUTER WASN’T easy. Just knowing he’d been there. That he’d been monitoring every single keystroke. Looking at the sites she’d visited, checking out her Google searches. It made her skin crawl.
It helped that Boone was right next to her, although that wasn’t all peaches and cream, either. Yeah, she needed the help, but doing everything he said? That was a bit much.
Then again, her options were pretty damn narrow. “Okay, who do I send it to?”
He gave her an address that seemed ordinary enough. And he scooted his chair closer. So close, his thigh brushed against the side of her butt. In a move both uncharacteristic and slightly humiliating, she felt her cheeks fill with heat. She concentrated on the typing.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Hi, Gina,” he said, waiting for her to type the words. “Guess who’s back? Boone is here and he’s going to take care of everything. That problem I told you about is going to be resolved soon. Anyway, don’t worry, it’s under control. I’ll call you as soon as things are back to normal here. Take care, Christie.”
She finished it up, then waited for the word to hit Send.
Boone nodded, and she hit the key, knowing the bastard was reading about his own demise.
“Why are we sending this?” she asked.
“To get him to move in.”
“Uh…”
“We can’t do anything if he stays in the background. He already knows his bugs have been detected, so he’s suspicious. Today, I’m going to make sure he knows we’re a couple. In fact, we’re going to do that right now. You ready to go to the store?”
“Together?”
“Yep.”
“Let me get my purse.”
“Skip it,” he said, as he pushed his chair back. “It’s all part of the service.”
Christie thought about protesting, but Boone knew the situation with her finances. She’d just have to make sure and write down how much he spent so she could pay him back. Every penny.
They stood at the same time, moving into the same space. She bumped into his chest. His hands gripped her shoulders, and she froze. Her head tilted back to look up into his face, and when she found him staring at her with his ocean eyes, she shivered.
The seconds slowed while her heartbeat sped. She’d been terrified in his arms last night, but now his size, his hardness, gave her strength. But that wasn’t what made her pulse race. It was the way he looked at her. Like a predator. Like a man who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And it felt an awful lot like he wanted her.
He dropped his hands, and before she could even blink he was out of the office, his heavy footsteps loud in the hallw
ay.
It took her another minute to get her act together, to realize how ridiculous she was being. He didn’t want her, for God’s sake. They’d met twenty seconds ago. He was here as a favor to her brother, a debt to be paid. She was a walking wreck who could barely string two coherent thoughts together.
She followed him down the hallway, dismissing her temporary insanity. This wasn’t her life. It wouldn’t be her life again until the bastard was behind bars. Nothing mattered but that. Nothing.
HE TOOK HER OUTSIDE, WALKING slowly past the hidden camera that was just below the eaves of her roof. There was no way this exit would be missed. That, in combination with the e-mail, should shake things up. Boone just hoped he could prepare Christie for what was to come. He would be right with her, but that wasn’t enough. She was going to have to learn to defend herself. Later, he’d take her to the gym, and he’d show her some moves. Tonight, he’d take her to the shooting range. By the time he was finished with her she might not be a sniper, but she’d know enough to hit her target and not herself.
“Slower,” he whispered, careful not to move his mouth much. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and felt her tense. But he smiled, stepped closer to her, wanting the geek to assume they were a couple. Jealousy was one of the triggers that would make a stalker act. That’s exactly what Boone wanted.
They strolled down her walkway toward his Explorer. He’d parked it across the street, a few doors down, and while he knew the camera was above the eaves, he didn’t know the range, so they’d keep it up until they cleared the block.
It wasn’t a hardship. Damn, she smelled good. He didn’t think she wore any perfume, which was just what he liked. He pulled her closer, wanting more of the sweet scent, then leaned close to her hair.
A hint of citrus made him run his hand up her shoulder to the first curve of her neck. Soft skin that even his calloused fingers could appreciate stirred more than his interest. It had been a long time since he’d been close to a woman. There was no way he could, not safely, which was just another reason he wanted the get the pricks who’d put him in this position. There was a time he’d thought about having a wife, a family. Now, the best he could hope for was a few stolen hours with a willing stranger.
