Cat Got Your Tongue? (15 page)

“Hello?” Dan answered.

“Dan!” she whispered, adrenaline heightening her senses. “There’s someone in the house. The alarm’s dead. How soon can you get here?”

“We’ve just finished with our shields. We’re on our way.”

“Please hurry.”

“Where’s the shield?”

“Sleeping in his bed.”

“Leave him there. Where are you?”

“The police should be here soon,” she whispered, dodging his question. With the tampered alarm, the security company would have alerted the police.

“We’ll get there as soon as we can. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Alex closed the phone, slipped it into the elastic band of her panties, and dragged in several deep breaths. Sleeping with Cole had been a bad idea. She’d let her guard down—something she usually avoided at all costs. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

With feline grace, she silently moved to the bedroom door, opened it, and listened. When she was sure that no one was on the top floor, she moved quietly along the wall, keeping in the shadows to remain hidden, and hoped like hell that no one was lurking in the darkness.

The library.

Not wasting any time peering into the other rooms, she ran swiftly down the stairs, her instincts alert, her body primed. She moved effortlessly, her heart pounding in her ears.

She froze at the bottom of the stairs as a dark figure appeared in the doorway of the living room.

Oh, shit.

He was on his way out but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. He was tall and thin, wore a black ski mask, and had a gun clasped in his right hand.

Adrenaline surged, her stomach lurched, and she aimed her gun at the intruder. “If you move a muscle, I’ll shoot your dick off.”

He simply stared at her, sizing her up, his mind no doubt forming an exit route.

“Drop the gun,” she ordered, pleased with her steady tone.

The smell of smoke and the sound of soft crackling coming from the direction of the living room grabbed her attention, but she kept her aim steady, and edged closer to the door. The crackling grew louder and she realized with horror that the fire was catching momentum.

“What have you done?” she asked, glaring at the intruder.

His gun went off, the sound reverberating through the darkness of the townhouse, reverberating through her. In instant reflex, she threw herself to the ground, rolled onto her back, and took aim. He started running toward her and she fired, the bullet hitting him in the shoulder. He stumbled, straightened, changed direction, and struggled toward the window.

Her jaw unhinged when he took a flying leap, smashed through the glass, and landed with a thud on the ground below. Alex rushed to the window, but he was already stumbling down the street, one hand over his injured shoulder.

“COLE!” She swiveled toward the living room, covering her mouth with her free hand.

The room was ablaze with angry flames licking at the couches and the centre rug and Alex gaped at the two valuable paintings on the opposite walls.

Unable to stand the thought of two priceless paintings perishing in the fire, she rushed forward, coughing against the smoke, and struggled to yank the Picasso off the wall. It took all the strength she could muster to free the painting and she stumbled against its weight when it finally came loose.

She caught a glimpse of Cole running down the stairs as she placed the Picasso against the wall opposite the living room.

“What the hell happened?” he shouted, his voice lost in the sound of the flames and the alarm. The water sprinklers had kicked into action and water poured from the ceiling.

Even though the sprinklers were set so that the water just missed the two walls where the paintings had hung, Alex wasn’t taking any chances. She dashed back into the living room, and headed straight for the Degas, pausing briefly to rip a curtain off its rails.

“Alex!” he bellowed as she struggled to free the painting. “Are you crazy? Leave the damn painting!’

Alex yanked the painting free from the wall, covered it with the curtain, and staggered to the door with a gasp.

Cole reached for the Degas, set it against the opposite wall, and swiveled toward her. “Are you okay?”

She was a mess—bent over, coughing from the smoke, water dripping down her face—but she nodded anyway. The water pouring from the sprinklers had succeeded in getting the fire under control and the alarm stopped its incessant shrill, the sudden silence blissful.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs and two large, muscular men dressed in striking black tuxedos appeared on the landing.

Relief flooded Alex at the sight of her partners and she nodded a breathless greeting at them.

“Who the hell are you?” Cole cursed, glaring at them.

“Your butler let us in. We’re her backup,” Dan said, running toward Alex, Bradley on his heels.

Cole scowled at Alex and slammed on the lights. “You called them? You called them without waking me first?”

Bradley stepped forward. “That’s her job, Cole. That’s what you’re paying us to do.”

Dan edged closer. “Dammit, Alex. Are you okay?”

Alex straightened and swiped away her hair. “I’m fine. Watch the glass,” she panted, motioning to the shattered glass on the floor.

With a muttered curse, Cole scanned the broken glass and looked back at the living room. “What the hell happened?”

“He set the fire,” Alex said, trying to catch her breath.

“Who?” They spoke in unison.

“I don’t know. He was wearing a ski mask and went out the window. He had a gun.”

“He shot at you?” Bradley asked.

“Yes, but he missed.”

“But there were two shots,” Cole said, fury flashing in his eyes.

“I fired a shot, and it hit him in the shoulder.”

“What the hell were you doing with the paintings?”

“Trying to keep them from being burned, Cole.”

Dan stepped forward, sensing the tension. “The police and the fire department are here.”

Cole clenched his fists and stared at the team of bodyguards in front of him. “I’ve had it with people breaking in here and thinking that my home is a fucking shopping mall.”

Charles, two police officers, and several firefighters bounded up the stairs, and all chaos broke out. Alex lurched forward, nudged her partners toward the kitchen, and left Cole to deal with the authorities.

When the kitchen door closed, creating a blissful barrier to the noise and the people outside, Alex breathed a sigh of relief and dragged her hands through her damp hair.

“What happened?” Bradley asked, staring at her. He looked weary and wore a deep frown.

Alex dried her face with a kitchen towel and recalled what had happened. “Why would he set a fire? That’s not a cat’s MO.”

“It depends on whether his motive was to set the fire and run or to steal a painting. Where’s the Renoir?”

“Upstairs in the bedroom.”

“Maybe he came in for the Renoir, couldn’t find it, and set the fire?”

Alex shook her head. “No, what would he gain? He almost destroyed two valuable paintings in the living room. Why not check the rest of the house for the Renoir or just leave?”

Dan was scrutinizing Alex, a tense frown on his face. “You damn near got shot—again.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“And what’s with the band aid above your eye?”

“Max’s ex.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” she drawled, placing her gun on the kitchen table. “I was too preoccupied to haul out the hair products and makeup.”

Accusing eyes zeroed in on her. “Where were you when you called me?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You were with him, weren’t you?” he said softly, his tone clipped with irritation. He slammed his hand on the kitchen counter, causing Bradley to reel back in surprise. “Dammit, Alex! What the hell were you thinking?”

“That’s none of your business, Dan.”

“Of course it’s our business. Are you out of your mind?”

Bradley held out a hand. “What the hell have I missed?”

“She’s sleeping with the shield!” Dan burst out.

Alex flinched at his words and took a deep breath. Great. Just great.

Bradley whirled around to face her. “That’s bad, Alex. Really bad. You lost your mind or something?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a damn teenager that’s been caught fooling around.”

“Well, then, stop acting like one!” Dan snapped, pacing the kitchen floor. “You’ve compromised everything. You know you can’t be in his bed and do the job he’s hired you for.”

Bradley nodded. “Alex, you’ve crossed the line. This was your damn rule to start with.”

“Will you two shut up?” Alex exclaimed, banging her hands on the kitchen table in front of her. “Yes, I messed up, crossed a line, and caused a lot of unwanted complications. Don’t you two dare look at me like that and lecture me like you’re my parents!”

“If you’re sleeping with him, it changes everything,” Dan replied, lowering his voice. “We’ll have to pull you from the job and replace you with another agent.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Cole said from the kitchen door and they all spun around to face him.

He shut the door and glanced at the three agents in the middle of a serious showdown. Judging by his harsh frown and grim expression, he hadn’t liked what he’d heard.

Alex sighed. Oh, brother.

****

Tension bristled in the room and Cole scowled at the two men that stood on either side of Alex. She seemed so small sandwiched between them, and he felt an instant rush of protectiveness toward her.

“She certainly can’t keep working for you under the circumstances,” Dan protested, reining in his temper now that their client had walked into the room.

Damn right.

“And what circumstances would that be?” Cole asked.

“You know what I’m referring to, Cole. Your new sleeping arrangements have caused a conflict of interest.”

“My sleeping arrangements shouldn’t be any of your concern.”

Bradley folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. “If Alex has taken up residence in your bed, both your lives could be at risk.”

“Enough,” Cole said in a low tone that packed enough of a punch to silence both men. He pinned them with a final stare, shifted his eyes to Alex, and frowned at the skimpy scraps of damp material she wore. Her hair hung in wet streaks around her face and she had her arms wrapped around herself—an attempt to either ward off the chill or shield herself from the two men yelling at her. He wasn’t sure which, but he loathed the fact that his woman stood half-naked in a confrontation with these men.

He yanked open the kitchen door and stepped into the doorway. “Charles!” he bellowed and the butler was quick to appear. “Please bring down a robe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cole turned to the two men. “I understand you guys are riled, but could we address this without harping on my damn sex life and without making Alex feel like a school kid?”

He shifted his gaze to Alex, caught the relief that crossed her expression, and saw she’d started shivering.

Frustration prickled and he stepped back into the hallway just as Charles appeared clasping a white fluffy robe in one hand. With a nod, Cole reached for the robe and returned to Alex.

“Can anyone tell me what the hell happened here tonight?” he grumbled, helping her into it.

“There was one of two things that were the target here,” Alex said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Either the Renoir was the target…” She paused and eyed Cole, “…or you.”

“Me?”

“It makes sense, Cole. Two people have broken into your house this week. They set a fire in your living room knowing that we were sleeping on the top floor. It’s a four-story building. Had the fire spread…”

“Made any enemies lately, Cole?” Dan asked.

“Besides you two? No.”

Dan’s lips twitched. “We’re not your enemies. We’re here to keep you alive.”

“Yeah, and messing with our girl makes it really hard for us to do that,” Bradley added.

“I’m not messing with anyone and my relationship with Alex is none of your business.”

“Everything to do with Alex is our business.”

Alex stepped between them and held up a hand, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “Could we drop the subject and go onto a more managed one please?” Lines furrowed her forehead and she shifted, crossing her arms again. “Like why someone set fire to this house tonight? Am I the only one that suspects someone has a problem with Cole?”

“I’m not sure if this is about the art or about the shield,” Bradley said, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“I think it’s about both,” Alex said and the three men looked at her for further explanation. “It’s odd that all this is happening at once. Come on, two B and E’s in one week? And what about the burglary and murder of Mike Willis? They must be related somehow.”

“And these thugs don’t even blink at my alarm,” Cole grumbled.

A quick study of his alarm system had shown that the electronics were completely fried. So much for state of the art security.

“They know how to work their way around an alarm,” Dan said. “If they want entry bad enough, they’ll find a way. They move swiftly, plan to be in and be out before the cops arrive.”

Charles appeared at the kitchen door with a brief knock. “The police need to talk to the three agents, sir.”

Cole nodded and looked at the Dan and Bradley. “Could you guys give us a minute?”

With weary nods, they followed Charles. Dan hesitated in the doorway and glanced back at Cole. “We still have to address this, Cole. She can’t stay here anymore.”

“She’s not going anywhere.”

“The biggest problem of all is that you won’t let her do her job if she’s in your bed. That combination spells disaster. She’s either your agent or your damn girlfriend. She can’t be both.”

Dan was right. Dammit. He would never take a step back and let Alex do her job with the possibility of her getting hurt in the process.

A fresh wave of anger surged through him and he frowned. “Go talk to the cops, Dan. Alex and I will find a way to sort this out.”

“Yes, but at what cost?”

“Dan, drop it!” Alex snapped, her heated glare indicating that her partner nudged a fine line.