by Debra Webb
"In a moment."
He was serious. Dammit, she wasn't taking off her clothes without a good reason. "No." She shook her head adamantly. "Not until you tell me why."
"They knew to come here. We walked right into their trap. Maybe they locked in on our location during the call, but I don't think so. Tracking down a cell phone takes time. Either way, I'm not taking the chance that there's a bug I don't know about."
"But you checked me for bugs already." She remembered quite well the little thingie he'd used to scan her and her bags.
"New technology comes on the market every day. It's not impossible that he used something undetectable by the usual means."
She gestured to the bathroom. "I'll toss my clothes out to you."
He moved his head side to side. "It's not really your clothes I'm worried about. I need to inspect every square inch of your body."
Cole knew he'd shaken her with that request but it was necessary. "Now," he reiterated.
She hesitated a moment longer, likely grappling to find another excuse to argue the point with him. But, in the end, she was too smart not to see the obvious. Taking her slow, sweet time she shouldered out of her jacket and draped it on the foot of the bed.
He didn't like it when the target one-upped him and he'd definitely been one-upped this morning. But he had what he needed now. He would finish this, whatever the cost. The local police hadn't appreciated his refusal to cooperate. Nor had they been pleased at his ability to shift jurisdiction with a single phone call. And they definitely didn't like cleaning up someone else's mess. Cole didn't see the big deal. No civilians were harmed. Insurance would pay for any damage done to the vehicles in the lot. The only casualty was a man who'd overstayed his welcome on this planet years ago.
One left to go.
When that final piece of scum had ceased to share the same airspace as Cole he would at last be satisfied.
He'd waited ten long years to finish this.
She toed off her sneakers, rolled off the socks, then carefully placed the items next to her jacket.
In a show of his impatience, he folded his arms over his chest. The move sent pain slicing through his side. He gritted his teeth and ignored it. He'd endured much worse for far less. He would endure this. Time was short. The next move needed to be his.
The one remaining man was one he had studied well, knew almost as well as he knew himself. Not that finishing the matter would be simple, there were a number of complications, including Mildred Parker. But it would be an enjoyable task.
Angel's fingers moved to the buttons on her sweater. His gaze followed the release of each of three buttons at her throat. Stealing a quick glance in his direction, she crossed her arms in front of her and took hold of the hem of the sweater. The fabric slid up and over her head, landing on the bed with a good deal less care than the other items.
She looked directly into his eyes. "I'm not taking off my…" She cradled her arms in front of her breasts.
"I'll work around it," he allowed. Relief flooded her expression. "Stop stalling."
She turned her back and unfastened her jeans. The soft denim slid over her hips, revealing delicate bikini panties, the light pink color a perfect match to her bra. She lifted first one leg then the other to tug off the jeans. They plopped onto the bed. Timidly, her arms went up to shield as much of her torso as possible.
"What now?" she asked looking back over her shoulder at him.
Cole stood very still, his attention oddly distracted by her skin. It looked incredibly smooth, like porcelain. Her white-blond hair draped halfway to her narrow waist. The silky tresses looked even softer against the sleek shell of her skin.
The idea that touching her would be a mistake flitted through his mind but he dismissed it. This inspection was essential to his success. Not sexual…not pleasurable in any way.
He closed the distance between them in two long strides. Using both hands he scooped up her hair and fingered slowly through it, searching for any kind of device. Something organic likely, perhaps even a device that deteriorated in time, maintaining its shape and function only long enough to provide location.
Her hair felt every bit as silky as he'd anticipated. Then his fingers moved to her skin. She gasped. He recoiled abruptly at the warm feel beneath his fingertips. The smooth texture he'd anticipated, but not the warmth. Her flesh had looked too pale and sleek to be this warm. Bracing himself, he lowered his fingers there once more. Slid the tips over her shoulders, closely searched the flawless surface with his eyes as well as his touch.
"When they took your aunt away," he began, his voice strained somehow, "did either of the men touch you in any way? Brush against you?"
She shook her head, the movement sending long tendrils of pure silk swaying across her shoulders. "Not that I can recall. They…" She inhaled an un steady breath. "They mostly just grabbed my arm."
Cole was surprised to see his hands shaking slightly as he moved toward the closure of her bra. He squeezed them into fists then relaxed. He clenched his jaw and focused. He had a job to do. He reached for the closure and unfastened it. She shivered, he did the same. The reaction annoyed him. "Wait."
She turned slightly, staring up at him over her bare shoulder. The image tugged at something inside him which only made him angrier at himself.
"I almost forgot," she rushed to say. "They took our coats. I remember now that I forgot mine when they took me away afterward." A frown marred her smooth forehead. "Those two men, the one who died this morning and the other one who came to my house yesterday, drove my aunt and me to some place to question us. We were blindfolded so I don't know where."
"How long was the drive? Did you stay on paved streets?" Irrationally, Cole was thankful for the reprieve. At least he had time to regroup before touching her again.
"I…I'm not sure. I was so upset. Maybe thirty minutes."
Thirty minutes from her aunt's condo in Chicago. Angel had already told him that she'd gone to her aunt's place to tell her everything when the men arrived.
Angel pushed her hair back from her face and turned more fully toward him. "That man, the one who died this morning—" her gaze drifted to the window "—he searched us thoroughly. Made us open our blouses so he could see if we were wearing a wire or something like that."
Cole swore softly. "He knew you weren't wearing a wire," he snapped. "It was an excuse to get you to strip for him."
She looked mortified. "No…"
"Show me how he touched you," Cole ordered.
Angel tried to remember exactly what happened that night, but so much had happened…think! She had to think. She clutched her bra to her breasts with one arm and reached down to show him with the other.
"I remember he ran his hands over my sides." She focused hard on that horrifying moment. "All the way around to my spine. But he didn't have anything in his hand." She'd been so terrified, could she really say that with any real accuracy?
"Like this?" Danes flatted his palms against her abdomen, then slowly slid them around her waist.
Her breath trapped in her throat. Those wide, strong hands created a blaze wherever they touched. That intent blue gaze connected with hers and, knowing he wanted an answer, she nodded as best she could.
As he'd warned at the outset, he inspected every square inch of her torso from the sensitive area beneath her breasts to the rim of her panties. She couldn't look at him, though she knew he was looking at her. She could feel his eyes on her, watching, analyzing. She didn't want him to see the way his touch affected her. It was crazy. He was ruthless…uncaring…
"Don't move."
She opened her eyes in time to see him crouch down in front of her. He turned her slightly and inspected her left hip. She could feel his breath on her skin. Goose bumps skittered. Her fingers itched to touch his hair. To see if it felt as thick and silky as it looked. Despite the uncharacteristic length, the man had great hair. She closed her eyes and banished the crazy thought.
He
lifted something from her skin and peered at it for a time before looking up at her. As startled as she was to see that he'd found something, for one moment she couldn't get past the vision of his face so close to her quivering belly.
"This is how they found us."
He stood and showed her the tiny transparent disk that had been stuck to her skin.
A line formed between her eyebrows as she stared at the near-invisible object. "I should have felt that?"
"You wouldn't. Certainly not under the circumstances."
He walked to the bathroom and flushed the disk down the toilet.
She looked at the dried blood on her hands and shuddered. "Can I wash up now?"
"You're certain he didn't touch you anywhere else?"
"I'm certain."
He nodded. "Clean up."
Angel couldn't say for sure right now since her own emotions were in a tailspin, but she got the distinct impression that Mr. Cold-As-Ice was uncomfortable. Unbelievable.
10:00 a.m.
24 hours, 15 minutes remaining…
COLE WAITED in a parking garage downtown until the shops opened. He'd allowed Angel to take a shower, during which time he'd closely inspected the clothing she intended to wear. No more silent bugs. It annoyed him to no end that he hadn't considered that possibility. He should have.
"What're we doing?"
To her credit she hadn't asked any questions since they left the motel. He assumed that his seeing her undressed had unsettled her. Unfortunately it had rattled him to some degree. He didn't know what to make of that. Perhaps it was his proximity to finally achieving his goal that made him susceptible. What ever the case, he was back on track now.
"We're going to make a few purchases and find a place to lie low until dark."
"Until dark?" Leather crinkled as she turned more fully toward him. "I only have twenty-four more hours. They're going to kill my aunt! I can't sit around waiting."
"He," Cole corrected.
She cut her hands through the air. "How the hell do you know there's only one guy left? He could have a dozen friends in on this with him."
"There's only one to be concerned with."
She plowed her fingers through her hair and heaved a sigh. "You can't be certain."
He leveled his gaze on hers. "I am certain."
"Whatever," she snapped. "We can't just sit here."
"What do you propose we do?" He injected a good measure of condescension in his tone to put her in her place. He doubted the strategy would be entirely successful but he had to try.
Her mouth dropped open but no words came out. From her frustrated expression he could see that she frantically searched for an option. One she wouldn't find.
"So we just wait for him to call again?"
"No." He removed the keys from the ignition. "We wait for nightfall."
He emerged from the SUV, which he had also swept thoroughly for alien electronic devices, and moved around to the passenger side.
He opened her door. "Get out."
"Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners, Mr. Danes?"
She climbed out to stand next to him. She waited, staring expectantly up at him. Apparently the question wasn't meant as a rhetorical one.
If he hadn't been so damn tired he might have been able to come up with a scathing reply that would shut her up but he lacked the energy to waste.
"Miss Parker, in case you've forgotten, I saved your life this morning. Try and show a little gratitude."
"Not so fast." She snagged his arm when he turned away.
He produced the kind of stare that generally sent anyone of the species, male or female, into retreat. "What is it now?"
Her face turned grim. "What was it you asked the man you shot? What did he tell you?"
He'd expected her to get around to that eventually. She'd been too traumatized to inquire before now. Obviously, the shock had worn off to an extent.
"I asked him where they were keeping your aunt," he told her, seeing no point in hiding that fact from her.
She blinked, startled. "Did…did he tell you?"
"No."
A brutal blow of defeat punched Angel, making her sway. She was running out of time. In twenty-four hours her aunt would be dead. She wasn't any closer to finding her now than she had been when that bastard issued his ultimatum. What was she sup posed to do?
The feel of Danes's hands on her arms, holding her steady, tugged her from the troubling thoughts.
"Sorry…I—" Why the hell was she apologizing to him? She pulled free of his hold. "Let's get this over with."
He escorted her to the major department store next door to the parking garage. With an economy of time and effort he purchased a change of clothes for himself as well as for her. Apparently he wasn't taking any chances on more bugs.
Her suspicion was confirmed when he picked up another rental car at the airport, leaving his SUV in the short-term parking area. The only items she was allowed to keep were her purse and cell phone, which he had disassembled and reassembled in under a minute.
He pointed the new rental in the direction of town and drove for half an hour without saying anything.
"What are we doing now?" she asked as he finally parked midway along a crowded city block. She hated being left in the dark. He'd scarcely said a word since the exchange regarding the day's agenda in the parking garage nearly two hours ago.
He didn't bother responding, just got out and came around to her door. What was the point in arguing? He had the guns, hers included, he was in charge.
She followed him into the large corner drugstore, her mind drifting to her daughter. She tried not to think how long it had been since she'd seen her…held her. If she closed her eyes she could call to mind her daughter's sweet baby scent. Oh how she missed her. If she could just get through this and get back to her little girl…if her aunt was safe. She'd never ask God for anything else as long as she lived.
By the time her mind shifted back to the present, Danes had filled a small shopping basket with several items. She frowned as she attempted to identify the various goods. Gauze. Antibiotic ointment. Per oxide. A travel-size sewing kit. Gauze tape. A few male essentials, like a disposable razor and shaving cream. Two toothbrushes. Toothpaste.
Some of the items she could understand but what was with all the medical supplies?
Before she could question his selections he strode up to the counter and paid. Moments later they were in the car again. She didn't ask any questions because she sensed that he had no desire to talk. Instead, she studied his stony profile. As unyielding as the angular lines of his face, as hard-hearted as he clearly was, she had to admit that he was a handsome man.
Nothing about his hard, determined demeanor had really changed. She inclined her head and considered him again. No, maybe it had. She sensed another kind of distance about him, a new sort of remoteness. He felt even more unapproachable. And there was a decidedly weary edge about his posture.
She prayed that man hadn't told him more than he would say. If Danes already knew that her aunt was…hurt…
"Are you certain there isn't something you need to tell me?" she ventured.
"I've told you all there is to know."
He sounded tired rather than annoyed or impatient.
"I still don't like the idea of wasting the rest of the day. Shouldn't we be out looking? Isn't there some thing we can do?" It just felt wrong to wait while her aunt remained in the hands of a killer. She suppressed a shudder. What if the other man never called? How would she find her aunt then? She could be any where. Fear twisted inside her.
Danes pulled into the lot of a hotel, this one more up-scale than the last. After parking in front of the lobby he sat silently for so long that Angel worried she'd pushed him too far. Anxiety sent her heart thumping against her rib cage. She should have kept her mouth shut. Another mistake. Would she never learn?
"Go in, get us a room." He handed her a credit card and driver's license. "Use that name."
"What?" He wanted her to go in alone? She had to have heard wrong.
"Just do it."
If the ferocity behind those three words hadn't been enough, the lethal look he pointed in her direction definitely did the trick. Angel wrenched the door open and hurried into the hotel lobby without hesitating. She glanced at the name on the credit card, then verified it with the name on the license before reaching the desk.
Damon Rodale. Cincinnati, Ohio.
"May I help you, ma'am?" The clerk gifted her with a practiced smile from behind his gleaming counter.
"Yes, I need a room." She placed the credit card and driver's license on the counter. "Just for one night," she added, producing a smile of her own.
The credit card was approved with a single swipe. No questions other than the usual, smoking or non smoking, king or two double beds. Incredible. He re cited the directions for the easiest access to the room and passed the key card along with the credit card and license across the counter.
"Thank you." She gathered the cards and fake ID but hesitated before leaving. "Do you have room service?" she asked, certain a hotel this size would.
"The kitchen is open until midnight," he assured with another gracious smile.
"Thank you."
Food entered the chaos in her head for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten. Before she and Mildred had been descended upon by madmen? She was pretty sure that was correct. After she'd got ten her daughter safely tucked away she'd forced herself to eat in order to keep up her energy.
She wondered then when Danes had eaten last. She couldn't imagine him confessing to any sort of physiological need.
The sight of him sitting, his forehead braced against the steering wheel, struck her hard as she approached the vehicle.
She rushed to his door. "Are you all right?"
His head snapped upward at the same time his hand flew to his weapon with phenomenal speed. "Did you get the room?"
She nodded. "We can drive around back and park there. There's a rear exit near our room." It wasn't until she told him those details that she realized she should likely have asked for those very accommodations.
