by Tawny Weber
“Confirming that the funds deposited to the account came from the militants was easy enough. Tracking the withdrawal was harder. It bounced all over hell and back, but Lansky was finally able to nail it down this morning. The funds were transferred to a numbered account in the Caymans that Lansky’s traced to Ramsey and Ramsey alone. There’s no evidence that Ms. Maclean is even aware that her name is on that account, let alone has had access to it.”
Diego felt a surge of relief, but he knew that not having evidence wasn’t enough to clear Harper.
“What about the burner phone number she had in her possession?” He should be out there searching for the answers. He should be finding Ramsey and kicking the guy’s ass from here to hell.
“Lansky traced five more calls from that burner to Ms. Maclean’s residence, two to her business line with four from that line back to the burner. Hers is the only number the burner dials, and the calls average thirty minutes.”
After the fairy tale she’d shared, with everything he’d seen in her house, he knew that while she might talk to her ex once, it’d only be long enough to tell him to get fucked. And that’d be the last call she’d take.
Everything in him, belief, instinct, gut, said she wasn’t involved with the guy. But he knew that wasn’t proof.
“Her house is clean, no bugs. This must be Ramsey’s way of keeping tabs,” Diego realized as he paced the kitchen.
“Or keeping in touch,” Savino said quietly.
There was a sick kick of betrayal to his gut. Before he could shrug it off and focus on the relief, Savino continued. “He or his partner.”
Diego’s jaw clenched. T minus thirty seconds.
“You broke the code.” He’d figured they would if he couldn’t.
“It gave Prescott something to do while he’s lying in that hospital bed.”
Grabbing a can of iced tea from the fridge, Diego uncapped it and waited.
“As we suspected, the code confirmed that he’d transferred the formula and marked the countdown of the explosive’s detonation.”
The son of a bitch had blown that place himself. As fury rocketed through his system, Diego gulped down the tea and tried to settle his thoughts.
“Lansky dismantled communications in search of a tap or trace. There’s no sign that anyone was listening in,” Savino said, the words sounding as if he’d bit them off with his teeth.
“So in addition to Ramsey, someone else is dirty.” Diego gave voice to the sick feeling he’d had ever since he’d watched the video.
“Affirmative. But we don’t know who he was in league with. Not yet.”
It could be another member of Poseidon. It could be one of the SEAL team. It could be one of the support crew.
His vision black with rage, Diego crushed the can and sent it flying into the wall.
“Torres,” Savino barked. “Maintain.”
Diego took a deep breath. Then another. He focused all of his anger, all of his adrenaline between the fingers of his clenched fist until his mind cleared and his heart rate slowed.
“My orders?”
“Stay the course. This might not be your area of expertise, but that works to our advantage.”
Which was Savino’s not-so-subtle way of warning him that command, NI, probably the CIA were all interested in his whereabouts.
“Yes, sir.”
“Maintain your position. Do not break cover. Do not tip off the friendly, or any potential threat, as to our status. Observe, stay close, be prepared to shelter and defend.” Savino’s hesitance was a physical thing. “You’ll receive a package by special courier within the next two days.”
Weapons. Diego pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to rub away the pressure’s edge.
“Sir, if Ms. Maclean is in danger, shouldn’t steps be taken? A safe house, debriefing—”
“Steps have been taken,” Savino interrupted. “You.”
Shit.
Diego didn’t have to monitor his response since Savino had hung up, so he indulged himself in another few minutes of creative cussing. Then he did what he’d been trained to do.
He took a deep breath, grabbed the can off the floor and began cleanup.
It didn’t matter what his feelings were. He’d suck it up and do the job.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“MMM, DELICIOUS.”
“I haven’t even started cooking yet.” It took only a glance for Harper to realize that Andi wasn’t talking about dinner. The other woman was leaning so far into the bay window that all Harper could see was a black ponytail and a denim-covered rear. “Admit it. You only invited yourself to dinner as an excuse to check Diego out.”
“Well, I would have hired an investigator, but I figured you’d object.”
“You figured right.” Harper rolled her eyes at her friend. “You’re the one who nudged and nagged at me to do something about my sex life. Quit worrying now that I have.”
“I’m not worrying,” Andi denied. At Harper’s arch look she shrugged. “Okay, only a little.”
She turned back to the window, craning her neck to enjoy the view. “But I have to admit, he looks worthy of that smile you’re wearing.”
Unable to resist, Harper finished adding herbs to the marinade, then hurried across the kitchen to join Andi at the breakfast nook.
Mmm, yeah. Diego was nothing if not incredible.
He was dressed. She knew that, but couldn’t say what he was wearing except to note that if he’d been naked she’d be smiling a lot brighter.
All she really saw was the sleek man with skin like gold using the huge oak tree next door to do pull-ups. Something she knew he did on a regular basis—with or without the tree. His muscles looked like they were sculpted from marble, and she knew that they felt just as sleek. The broad shoulders she’d held so tight only hours before when he’d taken her against the wall gave way to a drool-worthy chest—which, yes, she had drooled on. His waist tapered, framing the most amazing six-pack Harper had ever rubbed her naked body over. The dusting of hair accented rather than covered that skin, and his happy trail pointed the way to heaven.
Harper’s mouth watered as images of that heaven filled her mind. Memories of how good it had felt to visit there. Anticipation over how soon she’d enjoy it again.
God, he was wonderful.
His arms rippled, sun glinting off his damp skin as he pulled his chin up to touch the branch, released, then did it again. With each pull-up, Harper could feel her belly bunching, contracting, tightening in time with those muscles.
“Very nice,” Andi murmured.
She had no idea. Harper didn’t say that, though. She simply took one more look before moving back into the kitchen.
“When are you going to introduce us?” Andi wondered, following Harper’s lead with a sigh. “He’s joining us for dinner, right? Did you tell him that shirts are optional?”
Harper’s blood warmed, her thighs trembling a little at the idea of sitting down to dinner across from a shirtless Diego.
“He’s not joining us.”
Andi laughed and shook her head. “No, seriously. What time is he coming over?”
“Okay, seriously. He’s not.”
Harper pulled vegetables from the fridge, stacking the choices in her arm as if the perfect zucchini would prevent this from turning into something she couldn’t handle.
She’d talked herself out of the crazy idea that she was falling in love with Diego. It was ridiculous. They’d only been sleeping together for a week. And while it’d been an intense week, there was still so much they didn’t know about each other. Too much.
Besides, she didn’t want a man in her life long term. More important, she knew Diego wasn’t looking for more than sex. She’d be setting herself up for heartbrea
k to think otherwise.
“I thought it was better to keep things casual and separate,” Harper said as she moved to the sink. “This thing with Diego, it’s just for now.”
“And when Nathan gets home?”
Harper glanced over her shoulder to give Andi what she hoped was a nonchalant look. The sort a savvy woman used to affairs would offer. Since she was afraid it came off as more of a heartsick grimace, she didn’t try to hold it for long.
“When Nathan gets home, life is back to normal.” Heartsick or not, that wouldn’t change. It wasn’t as if great sex was worth turning a life inside out over.
“Okay. But Nathan’s not home yet, is he? So why are you keeping the hottie on the other side of the fence?”
“Because you’re only just back from your trip and this is our dinner together,” Harper said, carrying the fresh veggies to the island, where she’d already laid out the cutting block and knife. “Dinner which you’re going to help with. So start cutting.”
“Harper.” As she started slicing and dicing, Andi searched Harper’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Now instead of obsessing with my sex life, why don’t you tell me about your trip?”
“Oh, so you want to talk about my sex life instead?”
Laughing, Harper started on the salad as Andi entertained her with tales of Greece.
By the time the vegetables were chopped and the green leaf torn, she felt as if she’d taken a vacation on a sunny beach.
“You and Nathan should come with me next time,” Andi invited.
“Someday.” When they could pay their own way.
“In the meantime, I think you should invite your neighbor to join us for dinner. How am I supposed to check him out if he’s not here?”
“You don’t need to check him out. You need to mind your own business,” Harper said, rolling her eyes.
“Fine, be stubborn.” With an exaggerated shrug and a look of supreme indifference, Andi set the knife on the cutting board and slid off the stool. “I’ve finished my contribution to the dinner prep by cutting the vegetables. And your hot lover is still working out. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to powder my nose and refine my plot to change your mind.”
“Not going to happen.”
Harper’s smile turned bittersweet as Andi laughed her way down the hall. She might not be able to resist sex with Diego—and why should she? She was young and healthy. He was fun and sweet. And, of course, the sex was mind-blowing.
But it wasn’t love. There was no such thing.
And maybe if she told herself that a few million more times, she’d believe it.
Harper clenched her teeth against the snap of pain the thought sent crawling down her spine. Pushing it aside, she added cremini mushrooms and asparagus to a bag, then poured a mixture of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, herbs and garlic over the vegetables, then zipped the bag closed.
Harper gripped the bag of soaking vegetables tightly and shook it to the beat of the soft-playing music.
Adding a little footwork and hip action, she worked her way across the kitchen and back again. As Nickelback listed all the wrong reasons, a movement outside the window caught her eye.
Since Andi hadn’t returned and couldn’t make a big deal out of it, Harper stepped around the island to see what Diego was doing. She hoped he was still exercising. She hadn’t been able to fully appreciate the play of muscles and gleam of sweat over that sleek body with a matchmaking magpie nagging over her shoulder.
Son of a...
She tossed the bag of marinating vegetables on the counter and ran for the door.
* * *
HALFWAY THROUGH HIS karate drill, with one eye on the house next door and the sun sliding to bed in a blaze of color, Diego thought back to his call from Savino. The package hadn’t arrived yet, and he hadn’t received any further information.
It was damned frustrating. He calculated his options, played out the various potential scenarios.
And thought about Harper.
He’d never known anyone like her. Sassy and clever, elegant and sweet.
She was, in her way, as dedicated to her career as he was to his. She studied design magazines as if they were holy scripts, read the newspaper from front to back and kept up with societies’ doings. Not for the sake of gossip, she’d told him, but to stay informed for her clientele. Knowing what to talk about and what was off-limits was apparently as important as the difference between rococo and chintz. Since he wasn’t sure what either was, he’d taken her word for it.
And she kept walls between them. It had nothing to do with Ramsey and the mission Diego was investigating. And everything, he suspected, to do with Ramsey and Harper’s past.
So far, Diego had let it ride. He wasn’t a man who sought intimacy. But he found himself wanting it. Beyond sex, which was pretty damned mind-blowingly awesome, he wanted more.
Even though he knew better.
For now, he needed to focus. He’d work out, find his center, move past the guilt that was eating at his gut. Then he’d casually wander over to say hello.
Five minutes later, he had to admit that while he could finish his workout, inner peace was not to be found.
Not with a mouthy brunette yapping at him.
What was the world coming to when a man couldn’t get a quiet workout in his backyard while spying on the woman he was sleeping with?
It’d started with a friendly, “Welcome to the neighborhood” from the class act who’d strolled across Harper’s backyard as if she were walking the red carpet. His intel was solid. He knew who she was, what she did, even her net worth. But he hadn’t been prepared for her babbling. Before he’d even finished his pull-up, she’d started with the questions. If words were bullets, Diego was being peppered with a barrage, and they kept coming, fast and furious.
So far, he’d kept his answers short and his eye on the house in hopes that Harper would come to the rescue. There wasn’t much in life that scared Diego, but a matchmaking woman weighing his worth just might make the list.
“The Lowensteins are in Europe for two months. Are you subletting for their entire vacation?”
“Maybe.” Wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm, Diego wondered if the woman had trained with Special Ops. She had one hell of an interrogation style.
“Maybe? Do you always live so spontaneously?”
He thought of the day in, day out routine and protocol that made up his world in between covert ops and life-risking missions.
“Pretty much.”
“So what, exactly, do you do that keeps you living out of a suitcase in such an upscale neighborhood?”
No bullshit here. Diego grinned, starting to enjoy her style. “I’m a security specialist.” He waited a beat before asking, “Did you want my credit score?”
“Thanks, but I can get that myself,” the brunette said, waving his sarcasm away with an elegant hand covered in diamonds. “Why don’t we talk about Harper, instead?”
“Why don’t we,” he agreed, enjoying the timing as the woman in question slammed her way out her back door.
With a hint of a grimace, the woman turned to watch Harper hightail it across the patio. She looked like spring. Bright and light in a pretty dress that made him think of an ice-cream cone.
“Now you’re in for it,” Diego said with a laugh, enjoying the way the full skirt swished and swayed, showing flashes of things under the vivid pink.
“You don’t know the half of it,” the brunette murmured in agreement.
“Andrianna, stop right now,” Harper called before she reached them.
“She’s so bossy.” Andi slanted a look at Harper. “I’d love to know your life story. But Harper has her grumpy face on.”
“And why not,” Ha
rper muttered under her breath as she reached them. “You said you were powdering your nose. Not poking it in where it doesn’t belong.”
Diego reached over the stylized wrought iron fence to skim his fingers along Harper’s cheek in greeting before focusing on the brunette again.
“You’re not afraid of Harper’s grumpiness, are you?”
“Well, she is taller than I am, and she has a deep streak of mean,” Andi said, dropping her voice to a confiding tone as she leaned one elbow on the fence as if she was settling in for a round of gossip. “You don’t want to piss her off.”
“Is that a fact?” Brows arched, Diego watched Harper’s eyes flash with irritation. She’d crossed her arms over her chest, the move highlighting the swell of her breasts as they rose in creamy temptation above a froth of lace. She wore her hair in a high ponytail that left her face unframed but for a series of small gold balls dangling from her ears.
“True fact,” Andi confirmed.
“She does have long legs,” Diego agreed, his gaze dropping to what he could see of those legs below her skirt. The color of pale gold, they looked like silk. He knew they’d feel the same.
“And a prurient streak,” Andi confided. “She’s so weird about nosy friends not minding their own business. I’m sure that’s why she didn’t invite you to join us for dinner. She’s afraid I’ll ask all sorts of rude questions and embarrass you, her or both.”
“Do you have a standard list of embarrassing questions?” he wondered. He was sure now that Ramsey had never come around, that Andi had never met the man. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t met others Harper had dated. “Or do you just wing it, depending on who she invites over?”
“She’s standing right here,” Harper interrupted before Andi could respond. She disguised a laugh as a huff, waved one hand in the air before pointing toward her house. “And she’s about to be there. The two of you can go ahead—keep playing.”
With that, she spun around. Because he was watching for it this time, Diego caught sight of the opening in her skirt as it swished wide. Damn, she had some great legs. He watched her go, hips swaying and skirt rustling, and rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. Just how long was it going to take before he could make use of that side-split skirt and get his hands on those legs again?
