Betrayal of the Dove (Men of Action) (8 page)

BOOK: Betrayal of the Dove (Men of Action)
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“Customer,” he tilted his head toward the door, took a long look at the young woman who had entered as if sizing up her threat level before dismissing himself and going into the security room. Why had the word “date” unnerved her? He was joking, just teasing with her and there was nothing romantically implied in his tone or his words yet the word had reminded her of what she actually did want with the man—a date. Oh yes, she was in trouble, because in just a few hours of knowing the man she had already wanted to toss her dating hiatus to the wayside and take the man out for dinner already. Thomas may not have picked this man himself, but why couldn’t he ask whoever he had asked to help out, to find somebody old with fifty grandkids; somebody less threatening to a woman’s single status?

 

Yes, she was in trouble and she knew it. Because if she wanted that man, desired him, this much after just a few hours she couldn’t imagine what a few days, weeks or even months might do to her desire levels. “Through the roof,” she mumbled before going to help her customer. Her desire levels were going to go through the roof for a man she couldn’t even have.

 
 

Chapter Three

 

T
heir chair shopping date, as Shane had called it, turned out to be very much like a real date. He insisted on driving the truck. It made sense because he had far more space than she had and it would be easier if they just took the chair back instead of having to pay for a single delivery. But she also thought he needed a new desk, so in her mind she was prepared to order both. When they arrived at the store she had walked in with him, and for some reason she felt herself resisting the urge to grab his hand. She really, really wanted to hold on to the man, and she couldn’t. She was his boss. He was her employee. There couldn’t be anything more no matter how attractive he was. She kept reminding herself of that fact as she refrained from reaching out and taking his hand in hers.

 

“What kind do you want?” She looked at the plethora of chairs in front of her. They ranged from basic and short to big and bulky. In her opinion, something too big might make that room feel smaller than it already was, but something too small wouldn’t fit his body. The point of going chair shopping was to get something that fit his body and made him feel comfortable for the numerous hours he would spend in that room.

 

“You should let me buy you dinner.”

 

“What?” She said. “What does dinner have to do with a chair?”

 

“You haven’t eaten. I haven’t eaten. I can’t think on an empty stomach. Let’s go eat and then I’ll pick out a chair.”

 

She laughed. “Are you serious?”

 

“I’m hungry,” he grinned. She shook her head there was no way he was doing this to her now. If he were hungry he should have gone out to eat and then come back to the store to pick her up. There was a bistro down the street from her store. “I’m buying,” he restated.

 

“I can buy my own dinner.” She wanted him to know that while she wasn’t rich, she didn’t go for having a man “keep” her either. She was perfectly capable of taking care of her own needs—including buying her own food.

 

“I know you can,” he told her. “But I’d like to buy you a meal. Consider it making up for the meal you fixed me earlier.”

 

She hadn’t fixed him much and it hadn’t cost her much. Thinking about what they had for lunch made her think about how hungry he just might be. They hadn’t eaten a huge meal and it was getting late. He was probably starving. All the more reason he should pick a chair and take her back to her place, and then he could go home and eat alone—or at least without her.

 

“And you can’t pick a chair without food?”

 

“No,” he shook his head and she realized he wasn’t going to cave.

 

“There’s a
Paradise Bakery
down the street if you want to stop there.”

 

“How about
Lola’s Grill
,” he winked. “Best food north of Scottsdale.”

 

She knew where
Lola’s
was. She also knew it was going to take him closer to home and then he would have to waste gas just to come back. She shrugged. “Sure; why not?” They left the store. She knew full well that they probably wouldn’t get back there in time to get the chair before the store closed.
Lola’s
wasn’t an extravagant restaurant; it was nice, but not ritzy. Still, that didn’t mean anybody at
Lola’s
moved swiftly. They were likely to be there for hours with one of
Lola’s
full four course dinners that took forever to finish. Slow and relaxed was nice, but she really did want to get Shane that chair. Unfortunately, her brain and her heart weren’t in agreement because while she knew she should put distance between them, her heart wanted to be closer to him.

 

When they arrived at
Lola’s
, Shane took the back corner booth so that he faced the door. Unhappy with her distance in the booth he reached out, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Now, that’s better,” he smiled as he made sure she was comfortably positioned within centimeters of his body. Was he flirting with her? She couldn’t tell, but she thought maybe he was.

 

“So, tell me about yourself, Shane. What do you like to do when you’re not working?”

 

“I go up to the high country a lot,” he skimmed over the menu, just as she did. “There are some rock formations up near Sedona that are great for climbing.”

 

“You climb?”

 

“Yeah,” he looked at her with the, “didn’t I just say that,” look. Well, no, he hadn’t. He said there were formations up there that were great for climbing, not that he climbed them. But with arms and shoulders like the ones he had, she should have known he was a climber. Men had a tendency to use their arms more in the climb, while women had a tendency to use their legs to do most of the work. Jody, her delegated climb instructor at the local rock gym, had told her it was why women sometimes made it to the top faster, because the muscles in the thighs are bigger and stronger and take the climb better. She was thankful Jody had been assigned as her partner once she decided to make the gym a permanent fixture in her schedule. She graduated from the standard group instruction, to personal one on one time and that had improved her performance significantly. It also slowed things down so she didn’t feel rushed to ascend or descend the wall. She wouldn’t know about how swiftly either gender climbed. She was still in the stages of taking her time while trying not to remember how deathly afraid of heights she was.

 

“You?”

 

“Only in the gym. I love knowing if something goes wrong there’s a nice, cushioned mat beneath me to break my fall.” She held up her hand to stop him from saying what she was sure he was about to say. She could still seriously injure herself, even in the gym. She didn’t want to hear that because she already knew that and she tried to push that thought aside every time she took to the ropes. “It’s better than impacting a rocky bottom.” She assured him. “What else do you do?”

 

“Clean my guns.” He said so seriously that she had to laugh.

 

“And that’s fun?”

 

“It’s a necessity,” he closed the menu, indicating he knew what he wanted already. “And I have to take care of my land. I don’t want it to go downhill, so when I’m not working on something I’m usually working around the house or the property line. I like to keep things secure.”

 

“Security is always on your mind, isn’t it?”

 

“Not always.” He looked over her facial features as if he were studying every curve, every line, every diminutive detail and committing it to memory. “What are you having?”

 

She blinked in confusion until she realized the waitress was standing at their table and it was time to order their food. “I’ll start with the fruit salad, and for the main course I’ll have the chicken, broccoli, potato and cheese meal.”

 

“Good choice,” Shane said. “I’ll have the Caesar salad, and main course the steak, well done, and potato for my first side, coleslaw for my second side.” He handed the waitress the menus. “Could you bring us some more water please?”

 

“With lemon?” Alyssa added. She turned to look at Shane. “Thank you for dinner.”

 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for joining me.”

 

“You’re welcome.” She smiled before trying to find something to focus her attention on, something other than the incredibly gorgeous man sitting next to her. His eyes were so deep she could drown in them, but his gaze, the way he looked at her, nearly set her on fire. She really, really liked this man. And she shouldn’t. She had given up on relationships, why was she starting to change her mind on the matter now? What was it about Shane Maxwell that made her want to take a chance again? The man was there as a favor to a friend. Eventually he would leave and then where would that leave her? Where would that leave them? She resolved not to worry about any of that tonight. Tonight, she was just going to enjoy a nice night out with a good man, and then tomorrow they would go back to their standard business and professional relationship. That was what she had told herself anyway, but somehow, looking at the man next to her, she wasn’t sure they would be able to not explore the attraction they had to each other. Because she was sure he felt something, even if only lust, he felt something. He was too busy working hard trying to make sure she felt it too, for him not to have some thoughts of them as a couple on his mind. The more she thought about the possibility, the more she told herself not to go there. She couldn’t go there, no matter how much she wanted to.

 
 

Nevin DuPont looked at the photos on his wall. “
Dove Team
,” he snarled. They thought they were better than everybody, better than him. They would all soon learn that they were nothing, that he was the master of his craft and they, they were just a bunch of spineless dick heads hiding behind the crest of the elite team.

 

He had already killed one of them. He made sure it looked like an accident—for now anyway—because he didn’t want to alert the entire team and if it looked like anything other than an accident they would all go on high alert before he was ready for them to. “Brakes gone bad,” he chuckled to himself. He had got David Killinger first, right down there in New Orleans. He had made sure to empty just enough of his brake fluid and put a little hole to make the rest leak out. He fiddled with the censor so it wouldn’t show and he waited. He waited patiently for the man to be in that truck when the breaks gave way. He hadn’t expected his pregnant daughter to be in there with him when the accident happened, but she had been. Too bad for her because when his truck rolled over on the highway and then went “boom” she had gone out with him. “Oh well,” he shrugged. “Casualty of war,” he excused the extra loss of life.

 

It had been seven months since his last kill and he had spent those seven months preparing for the subsequent ones to follow it. He had them all planned out, but he knew, with his next kill, they might start to get suspicious. Maybe they wouldn’t, but if they were as smart as they tried to claim they were, they might at least start to wonder why two of their comrades had fallen in accidental deaths. This next one would be fun for him. Larry Bessler was a smoker. He already knew how he was going to use that against him. How many people fell asleep with a lit cigarette, or in his case, cigar, in their hand? Well, this one would. He was sure of it. Slowly, but ever so surely, he was going to wipe out the entire team. He was working his way west. This next one was in Round Rock, Texas. Then he would have a stop in Arizona before working his way on up to Washington. The last four were between Oregon and Washington and he was going to have to work quickly for them. They would be a challenge, but a fun one. He was going to take out the “elite”
Dove Team
all by himself.

 
 

Chapter Four

 

T
wo weeks, that’s how long Shane had been working for her and for two weeks she had been seriously lusting after the man. It didn’t matter if he was behind the closed door, now locked and secured, security room. He was there and she knew he was there and she felt him, felt his presence as if he were right out there in the store with her.
 
And every lunch hour he spent it in her apartment, eating lunch with her. She wondered if the man didn’t bring his own lunch just so he could come up and eat at her place. He didn’t go out to eat, even though there was a bistro down the street with really good food.

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