Full Force (Mills & Boon Heroes) (Declan’s Defenders, Book 3)

by Elle James

  Emily shook her head, pushed back from the piano and stood. “No, really, I’m done,” she said. “I haven’t made it very far in my exploration of the estate.”

  Mustang’s smile returned. “Uh, right. One room over is not very far. Not when you consider the size of this estate. I believe it’s over twelve thousand square feet, just the house alone, and the garage is like a warehouse. There must be over twenty thousand square feet just in the garage alone.”

  Emily walked around him, giving him plenty of space. She didn’t want to touch him for fear of having that electrical shock shoot through her again. “Sounds like you’ve already done your exploring. You must visit here quite a lot.”

  “It’s our base of operations.” Mustang fell into step behind her.

  She had hoped he wouldn’t follow her. But when the sound of his footsteps continued on her heels, she stopped suddenly.

  He bumped into her.

  “Look.” She spun on her heels to find herself standing toe to toe with Mustang. “Could I have a little space? I don’t need you following me around inside the house.”

  Mustang held up his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to crowd you.”

  Emily raised her hands. They fluttered a little, so close to his chest she could touch him. And that was the problem. She sighed. “I just need some time to myself, to think. To breathe. To get a grasp on what happened today.”

  Mustang captured her flapping hands in his big, warm paws. “I get it. I’ll let you be alone.”

  She should have pulled her hands free, but the warmth of his fingers holding hers made her want to continue just like that until her heartbeat stopped fluttering so fast.

  Instead of slowing to a calm, steady beat, her pulse raced even faster. “I have to go.” She pulled her hands free, turned and ran. When she reached the hallway, she looked in both directions. Though alone, she wasn’t sure where she should go next.

  When she saw the study across the hall, she darted into the room lined with bookshelves. Emily loved books. They were her escape, her wells of knowledge, and her friends when she wanted to be alone but not completely alone.

  The ornate wood paneling of the study lined the walls and ceiling. A massive mahogany desk took up one end of the room. To the side was a set of wood-framed French doors.

  With her need to escape driving her forward, Emily aimed for the French doors, charging across the room, pulling the handle and stepping out into the night.

  Cool night air felt good against her flushed cheeks as she turned to quietly close the French doors behind her. The soft glow of accent lights guided her along a path leading toward a garden. She guessed it was the rose garden Grace had talked about. She could smell them before she even reached the space. The aroma filled her, wrapped around her and soothed her scattered senses.

  Neatly trimmed rosebushes lined the walkway with fragrant blooms in a multitude of colors. In the center of the garden stood a fountain. Water bubbled from the top, dropping down to the lower levels. Stone benches surrounded the fountain, inviting Emily to sit.

  She dropped onto the smooth, stone surface and rested her face in her hands. So much had happened in the last twelve hours that she could barely wrap her mind around everything.

  Her day had started with her Advanced Russian Language class. She’d gone straight from there to the Russian embassy where she had interpreted for the investigator and the ambassador.

  Emily snorted. And she’d thought the Russian ambassador had troubles with his daughter having an affair with an American. He only had to deal with a rebellious daughter. Emily had had to deal with somebody shooting at her or trying to run her over or off the road.

  Why did someone want her dead?

  She glanced up at the fountain as if it could give her the answers. But the trickling water just continued to dribble, drip and soothe. But not enough. What she needed was answers. The fountain couldn’t give them to her, and the roses were no help, other than to smell pretty. She needed to get out and to ask the questions that would lead her to the answers. Hiding away on Charlie’s estate would get her nowhere.

  Emily squared her shoulders and started to rise. The snap of a twig made her start. She rose and paused, listening. Was that the shuffle of footsteps? Had Mustang followed her out to the garden?

  “Mustang?” she called out softly and then listened, straining her ears to hear anything. Her pulse pounded so loudly against her eardrums she could barely discern the sound of the wind rustling in the leaves.

  Mustang had asked her to let him know when she went outside. He’d had a reason for that. Even though the estate was equipped with security cameras and guards, someone could possibly get past them.

  Someone who wanted to kill her.

  Emily started toward the path leading back to the study and the French doors she had come through. She tiptoed softly, listening as she went, creeping along slowly. With the ever-increasing beat of her heart, she moved faster until she was running.

  She burst through the French doors and crashed into a wall of muscle.

  Chapter Six

  “Hey,” a deep voice said. Arms wrapped around her and held her close. “I thought I told you to let me know when you went outside.”

  She buried her face against his chest. “You did. I didn’t. I wish I had.”

  He stiffened, his arms enfolding her tightly. “What’s wrong?”

  Emily felt foolish. But she didn’t want to push away from his warm embrace. “I don’t know. I probably was hearing things.”

  “You want to stay here while I check it out?”

  “No,” she said and enveloped her arms around his waist, pressing her face closer to his chest.

  “You wanna come with me?” he asked.

  “No. Can’t we just stay here?” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

  “We can do that, too.” He pulled her closer and rested his chin against the top of her head. “We can stay here as long as you like.”

  “Good,” she said. Her lips pushed against his shirt.

  “I don’t mind holding you like this, but could we at least get away from the windows?” Mustang whispered.

  She nodded.

  He guided both of them away from the windows and deeper into the study.

  Emily didn’t know how long she stood there until her heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace, but it didn’t seem nearly long enough.

  Mustang didn’t say another word, just held her.

  When at last she raised her head, she gave him a crooked grin. “I’m sorry.”

  “What’s there to be sorry for?” Mustang touched a finger to the side of her cheek. “You had quite the scare today.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then leaned back. “You okay now?”

  She nodded, although her pulse had ratcheted up with the feel of his lips against her forehead.

  Mustang shifted one of his hands from around her waist to cup the back of her head. “So, what was it you heard outside?”

  She gave a broken laugh. “It was probably a stick falling from the tree. The wind was blowing a little. I’m sure it was nothing.”

  Mustang cupped her cheek. “Still, I’d like to check it out.”

  Voices sounded in the hallway.

  “Oh, there you are.” Declan entered the room, followed by Grace.

  Emily stepped away from Mustang. Heat rushed into her cheeks.

  “We’re trying to contact the private investigator that Emily had interpreted for,” Declan said, as if continuing a conversation.

  “You think he might have had something to do with this?” Mustang asked.

  Declan shook his head. “No, but if Emily is having difficulties, he might also have run into some problems. We tried looking him up and phoning but got no answer. We don’t have his cell info, though. Not yet. We’ll find his place a
nd head there tomorrow if we still can’t raise a response by then.”

  Grace crossed to get close to Emily and hooked her arm through Emily’s. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Grace frowned. “You look a little flushed. Are you sure you’re not feverish?”

  Emily shook her head. “No, I was just outside for a few minutes.”

  Grace smiled. “Did you get to visit the rose garden?”

  Emily nodded. “It was as you said...beautiful.”

  “The roses seem to be even more vibrant as the weather cools,” Grace said.

  Emily nodded again. She’d been too frightened by the sounds of the night to care.

  Mustang tipped his head toward the door. “While Emily was out in the garden a few minutes ago, she thought she heard something.”

  Declan’s eyes widened. “You think someone was out there?”

  Mustang shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’d feel better if someone checked it out.”

  Declan nodded. “Will do. I’ll get Snow to go look with me.”

  “Good,” Mustang said. “I’ll stay with Emily.”

  Declan left the study, calling out in the hallway, “Snow. Got a mission for you.”

  Grace frowned and stared into Emily’s eyes. “What did you hear in the garden?”

  “I don’t know. Could just be my imagination playing tricks on me.”

  Grace shook her head. “The guys will make sure. With all the stress, you must be exhausted.”

  It wasn’t until Grace mentioned it that Emily realized she had been tense. Her muscles were tired, and she was starting to feel all the aches and pains of having fallen in the dirt and from being tackled from behind. Her knees still stung and her shoulder felt bruised. “I am tired.”

  Grace slipped an arm around her waist. “I can give you a tour of the estate tomorrow. Why don’t you hit the hay and get some much-needed rest?”

  Emily’s gaze slid to Mustang’s.

  He nodded. “Go on. I’ll be up in a few minutes. My room is next to yours. If you have any troubles in the night, you just have to call out and I’ll be right there.”

  Though she hated being dependent on anyone, Emily was grateful that Mustang was there and would be on the other side of the door to her bedroom.

  She let Grace guide her to the staircase and up to her room. Her friend entered with her and nodded at the French doors on the opposite end of the room. “I love that this room has its own balcony and bathroom.”

  “It’s nice,” Emily muttered. Perhaps after a good night’s sleep, she might be more enthusiastic, but right now she was too tired to care.

  Grace lifted a garment from the end of the queen-size bed. “I found an extra nightgown that you can use until we can get to your apartment and get some of your own things.” She laid it back on the comforter and turned to face her. “I wish I had more, but we only just moved a few of our things into our rooms.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said. “I hate to be a bother.”

  “You’re not a bother. What are friends for?” Grace hugged her tightly, then let go and stepped away. “If you need anything tonight, all you have to do is ask.”

  Tears welled in Emily’s eyes. “You’ve been so good to me.”

  Grace left her in her room, softly closing the door behind her.

  For a long moment Emily stood staring at the nightgown on the bed. Her gaze shifted to the door connecting her room to the one Mustang would be sleeping in that night. A shiver of awareness rippled across her skin. She wasn’t quite sure what she was afraid of most. Her attacker...or her lusty attraction to the big marine who had saved her life that day.

  * * *

  MUSTANG MET UP with his team in the hallway as they headed for the door leading out the back of the estate. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

  Declan nodded at the others. “We’re going to check out the garden and do a reconnaissance of the perimeter to make sure everything is in place and the security system is working.”

  Mustang clapped his hands together, ready to dive into the mission. “Which way do you want me to go?”

  “Go with Arnold,” Declan said. “He’s going to check the front gate.”

  “Will do.” Mustang performed an about-face and headed toward the front of the house where he joined Arnold.

  The butler unbuttoned his suit jacket and pulled it to the side, displaying a shoulder holster and handgun tucked inside.

  Mustang nodded and pulled his jacket aside to display his own shoulder holster and handgun beneath. No words were necessary for each to know the other was armed.

  Arnold opened the front door and they both stepped outside. Rather than walking down the road winding toward the gate, they slipped into the shadows and worked their way quickly, paralleling the road all the way to the front of the estate near the entrance. When they arrived at the gate, Mustang held back in the shadows, providing cover for Arnold as he checked mechanisms to ensure they were working properly. Once his task was complete, he slipped back into the shadows and joined Mustang where he stood.

  “Everything seems to be functioning as intended,” said the butler.

  A soft whistle sounded in the darkness.

  Arnold reached for the handgun beneath his jacket.

  Mustang touched his arm. “That’s one of my guys, indicating he’s nearby. That way we don’t shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “Good to know,” Arnold acknowledged.

  The whistle was one they had used during operations in Afghanistan. A moment later Snow emerged from the shadows and joined them.

  “Anything?” Mustang asked.

  Snow shook his head. “Not a thing.”

  Arnold tipped his head toward the stone wall with its wrought-iron gate. “Gate’s secure.”

  “Meet back at the conference room?” Snow asked.

  “I’m gonna check the property line on the other side of the gate.” Mustang turned and started along the fence line.

  “I’ll come with you,” Snow offered.

  They hadn’t gone two steps when the sound of an engine revving cut through the night. In the next moment, a loud crash sounded behind them.

  Mustang and Snow spun.

  A commercial-size dump truck had crashed through the stone wall, leaving it in rubble.

  Mustang pulled his handgun from beneath his jacket and aimed it at the truck’s driver’s-side cab.

  Snow did the same.

  “Arnold?” Mustang called out.

  “I’m okay,” he called from the other side of the crashed vehicle.

  The truck engine was no longer running, but steam poured out from the radiator beneath the hood.

  Clinging to the shadows, Mustang and Snow eased up on the driver’s side of the vehicle. From what Mustang could see, there was no one in the driver’s seat, or he was lying down.

  “I don’t see anybody inside,” Mustang said.

  “That doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone in there.” Snow eased up to the door. “You cover. I’ll open.”

  Mustang took a position where he could fire straight into the cab once the door was open.

  Ducking low, Snow reached for the handle on the pickup and threw open the door.

  Mustang aimed, his finger barely caressing the trigger and held his fire. As far as he could tell in the darkness, there was no one in the truck. “Clear,” he confirmed.

  “Clear on this side,” Arnold echoed.

  Mustang crawled over the rubble to the back of the truck. He didn’t find anyone there, either.

  “Check this out,” Snow said.

  Mustang scrambled back over the bits of stone to the cab of the pickup where Snow had leaned in, studying the interior. His teammate backed out and waved for Mustang to lean in.

  “He rig
ged the accelerator by strapping a heavy brick to it.” Snow snorted. “But why?”

  Mustang’s gaze met Snow’s and a cold chill ripped across his spine. “Diversionary tactic.”

  They turned as one toward the house and ran. Declan, Gus, Mack and Cole joined them before they reached the house and fell in beside them as they raced.

  “What the hell was that?” Declan asked.

  “I’ll explain when we get to the house,” Mustang yelled. He kept running, his heart thundering against his ribs. He prayed he wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Seven

  Emily had just slipped into the nightgown and robe Grace had provided when she heard the crashing sound. She ran to the French doors, flung them open and stepped out onto the balcony. A cool breeze ruffled the hem of her nightgown and chilled her arms and legs. Behind her, she heard her bedroom door open and close. Still straining to see what had caused the commotion, Emily assumed it was Grace.

  “What was that?” she asked without turning.

  Footsteps sounded, coming quickly. Before she was aware of the danger, she was shoved from behind.

  Emily slammed into the balcony railing and doubled over, pitching over the edge. She flailed, reaching out, trying to find purchase. Her fingers wrapped around the wrought-iron rail and hung on tightly as her body weight jerked her grip loose. Emily screamed. Again the door to her bedroom opened.

  “Emily!” Grace yelled.

  A man all dressed in black with a black ski mask pulled over his face stood over her.

  “Help me!” Emily called out, her arm aching and fingers slipping loose.

  A shot rang out.

  The man in black vaulted over the railing, grabbing her legs as he came down.

  The added weight made her fingers slip free of their grip and she dropped from the second-story balcony, landing with a thud on top of the intruder who’d dragged her down. Not only had he ended up breaking her fall; he’d had the wind knocked out of him and lay still for blessed moments. Now was her chance.

  Emily took the opportunity to scramble to her feet and dart away. And she almost made it, but a hand grabbed a hold of her ankle and yanked her back.