Cat's Paw (Veritas Book 1) (15 page)

Lying in bed with a male, a virile one, made her think of things she really should
not
be thinking. Her heart told her that having sex with Alex Parkin would be a massive mistake. Her body, on the other hand, whispered a different tune. It’d been too long since she’d felt a man make love to her, felt the pleasure that uninhibited sex could bring.

Morgan sighed. Any other guy, she could have ignored, but Alex was too much like her.
Damaged. Hurting. Desperate to be whole again
. Any one of those would be her Achilles’ heel.

“You’re doing a lot of thinking over there,” Alex said, his breath lightly caressing her ear.

“How long have you been awake?”

“A while. Had to make a pit stop.”

She closed her eyes, knowing she should get up, but not wanting to move.

“Morgan?”

“Hmm . . . ”

“I’m going to kiss you.” He wasn’t seeking permission.

Alex turned her face toward him and delivered on his promise. It was a light kiss, a careful one. When she didn’t protest, he began another, this one deeper, more intense, the kind she’d missed for too long. Morgan placed her hand on his shoulder as the kiss ignited a fire in both of them. Their tongues touching now, his warm palm slid under her sleep shirt, resting just below her breast.

Her mind told her this wasn’t good, that this way lay heartbreak. For once, her body wasn’t listening.

“Alex . . . ” she murmured.

“Yeah, I feel it too, Morgan.” His hand covered her breast now, rolling the nipple between his rough fingers. “God, I want you so bad. I want you fast and hard, lady, then slow. I want to take you over and over all day.”

Morgan pulled him to her, feeling his sculpted body press against hers. The burning, hard length of him lay on her stomach, promising only the deepest pleasure. He moaned into her mouth, and she grew damp with anticipation. Thoughts of the mission, how wrong this would be, fell away in the face of the body-aching
need
. The need to feel alive again, to cry out as an orgasm rocketed through her. To have a man make her feel like a woman.

“Yes?” he asked, and trailed his lips down her shoulder before flicking his tongue across a nipple.

She moaned as he suckled lightly, the sensations so strong she nearly cried.

“You have to tell me, Morgan.”

As her mouth moved to form an answer, to demand her right to pleasure, her phone rang. They jerked apart, blinking in surprise.

Alex swore, thumping his pillow in frustration.

Morgan grabbed for the instrument of torture before it could ring again, glancing at the display.
Crispin
. It was as if he knew she was about to compromise the mission. And herself.

“Yeah, boss,” she said, sitting up with her back to the smoldering male temptation next to her. Her mouth still felt swollen from the kisses, her breasts hypersensitive, her core aching with the need for release.

“Morgan. Sorry to wake you. Mixed news to report.”

Crispin didn’t call for the light stuff. “What’s going on?”

“A couple hours ago, a three-man team tried to take out Parkin’s sister. They set fire to the house to flush them out. Both Neil and the girl are okay, just a bit of smoke inhalation,” Crispin said, his voice vibrating with tension.

Oh my God.
Alex was going to lose it.

“It was a near thing,” her boss continued, “but according to the Iceman, the girl didn’t freak. In fact, she impressed him, which is saying something.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow in surprise; impressing Neil was a rare occurrence.

“Where are they now?”

“They’ve just left the police station and will be going to ground. Tell Parkin she’s fine, and that once they’re secure in a new location, she’ll call him.”

“Send my thanks to Neil, will you?”

“I will.”

Morgan looked at her bedmate as he slowly sat up, the bedclothes sliding down to below his navel. She’d almost slept with this man. A man who’d nearly lost his sister, again. Alex had a frown on his face now, as if somehow he’d divined the topic of conversation.

Morgan snapped her mind back to the mission and turned her back to him again.

“The sample of coke from the warehouse was laced with strychnine, and that’s what killed the dealer and Dimitri Golov,” Crispin continued. “Even worse, the dope is already hitting the streets. There were five victims overnight who tested positive for strychnine. Four are dead, one is in critical condition.”

It just kept getting worse.

“I need you and Parkin to interview the families and friends, see if you can find where they were getting their dope. I’ll e-mail you the list of victims,” Crispin said. “One, in particular, might pose a problem for Parkin. And for you.”

“Why?”

“You’ll know when you see the name. Be careful, Morgan.”

“I will, boss. Thanks.”

She ended the call, turning toward Alex. The slow burn of lust in his eyes was gone, replaced by worry.

“Was that about Miri? Is she okay?”

“Yes. But it might not have turned out that way.”

Morgan laid out everything she’d learned, from the attack to the strychnine poisonings, watching as Alex’s body went rigid and his eyes grew cold.

“You sure she’s okay? Your boss isn’t lying, is he?”

“She’s fine, Alex. Apparently she didn’t lose her cool, and that made all the difference.”

He pulled on his jeans, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t wearing underwear. “God, she’ll hate me for this. I brought all this to her doorstep.”

“In the long run, she’ll understand that losing her house is nothing compared to losing her brother.”

“I’m not sure if she’ll buy that line.” Silence fell between them as he pulled on the remainder of his clothes. Finally he paused, looking over at her now. “When things quiet down, I’d like us to pick up where we left off.”

“No, I made a mistake. We . . . can’t go there. I’m sorry.”

Alex cocked his head. “Only your mind is telling you no. Your body wants this. There’s no way you can hide that.”

He was right, and that made it even worse.

“I’m not giving up, Morgan. You’re a beautiful, passionate woman, and I want to be with you. I don’t give a damn who hurt you in the past. This is me. This is now. This isn’t done between us.”

“It has to be,” she said.

“Only if you let the past win.” He shut the bedroom door behind him.

If her boss hadn’t called, she and Alex Parkin would be more than tangled up together. Sex changed things, changed the participants. Sleeping with Alex would be a big mistake.

But God help her, she wanted to make that mistake just one more time.

*~*~*

“You can come on up,” Neil called out over the thrum of the boat engines.

“Be there in a sec,” Miri called back.

After selecting a soda from the boat’s small refrigerator, she paused to let her mind try to catch up with all that had happened in the last few hours.

Veritas clearly had some serious clout, and they’d just used it. She and Neil had been hauled to the police station—in cuffs, which had really pissed her off. The only reason she hadn’t gone off on the cops was Neil. He’d just sat in the back of the cruiser and bided his time.

Once at the station, the situation changed. A lawyer from Veritas had appeared, they were both interviewed, and then they were set free. Neil had to surrender his weapons temporarily, but that was it. No jacking around, no nonsense. Miri knew that if she’d had to face that situation on her own, she’d still be sitting in a jail cell.

Before she’d entirely processed all that, she’d found herself at the docks, boarding a boat. As he’d readied the vessel for departure, Neil had insisted she remain below, at least until they were in open water. Too many prying eyes, he’d said. Given what the guy had risked for her in the last few hours, she didn’t even think to argue.

Tired of inhaling the residual smoke on her skin and in her hair, she’d showered and changed into clothes she’d found in the main bedroom closet. Magically, they fit her. Someone had gone shopping, found clothes in her size, and brought them to the boat before she and Neil had even arrived.

How do these guys do that?

They’d been on the water for half an hour or so now, and as the boat picked up speed, Miri adjusted her footing. Fortunately, she’d spent a summer working as a bartender and crewmember on a tour boat, so it was just a matter of regaining her sea legs. Seasickness had never been a problem.

Though the outside looked plain and a bit worn—most likely so it wouldn’t attract undue attention—the inside was tricked out. Compared to her house, this was a floating palace.

The boat was about fifty feet in length and had a shallow draft, so it could go into the bayous without scraping bottom. Besides the master bedroom, there were two bunks and a living and dining room area with a bench table, cream-colored padded chairs, and a long couch that probably turned into a bed. The kitchen came equipped with a three-burner electric range and a microwave. The pantry was full of canned goods, and the refrigerator was fully stocked. Miri had no idea how much this kind of boat would cost, but she knew she wouldn’t be owning one in her lifetime.

It all came rushing back to her: She was homeless. The only things she owned were the contents of her purse and her bank account. Thank God she deposited her tips every couple of days rather than store them at the house, or she’d have lost everything. That was the only upside to living in a dangerous neighborhood: You never left anything behind that you didn’t want stolen.

And then there was Mr. Toes. She’d wanted to bury him, but Neil had refused to tell her where to find the body. It had pissed her off, but then he’d said it was better she remembered her pet like he’d once been, not like he was now. That told her it was really bad.

What about Alex?
Was he safe, or had hit men gone after him too? Surely Neil would tell her. Wouldn’t he?

Miri made her way topside with the soda, more surefooted than she’d expected.

“Here,” she said, offering Neil the can. “If it’s not what you like, there’s a bunch of other choices in the refrigerator.”

He popped the top and took a long swig, then set it in a cup holder.

“You find everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Damned fancy boat. Yours?”

“No.”

His curt reply pushed her to ask the question: “Is my brother okay? I mean, you’d tell me if anything happened to him, wouldn’t you?”

Neil nodded. “Your brother’s fine. Morgan will watch his six.”

“Six?”

“Watch his back.” He looked back to the water in front of them. “We’re headed into the bayou. I’ll find a place for us to anchor. I’ll get a shower and then we’ll sleep—in shifts, so one of us can keep watch.”

He was always “on mission,” no time for idle conversation.

“Are you like this when you go grocery shopping?”

“What?”

“So damned serious. I mean, if you smiled, would the world end?”

Neil shot her a sidelong glance. “Probably.” He pulled a black lanyard with a key attached to it from around his neck and handed it to her. “You can shoot, but do you know one gun from another?”

Though the question irritated her, she nodded. So much for getting this guy to act like a normal human. “I had a boss who worked part time at a gun range. He’d take me there every now and then. I’m a pretty decent shot.”

“Good. There’s an armory cupboard below deck, near the head. Bring me the Glock 21 and an extra magazine. It’s the .45 caliber. Pick whichever firearm you like and carry it with you at all times.”

“Can I talk to my brother first?”

He frowned, as if not liking the delay, but handed over his phone. She couldn’t help but notice the dried blood on his T-shirt and felt guilty that she’d already had a shower. He’d washed some of the soot off in the police station restroom, but if you looked closely, you could still see evidence of the fire.

“Use the number for Morgan,” he ordered. “It’s a scrambled phone, so they can’t track us. Just to be safe, don’t mention you’re on a boat or where we’re headed.”

“Sure. Whatever you want. But you have to tell me your last name.”

A gruff headshake. “This isn’t a damned date. Make your call. I want a shower sometime today.”

When he abruptly slowed the boat, minimizing the engine noise, Miri grabbed onto a railing to steady herself. Glowering at him, she mumbled a swear word and retreated to a deck chair.

“You might be awesomely badass, but you still have a huge rod up your butt, dude,” she said, figuring he couldn’t hear her over the engine noise.

“No, I don’t,” he called out. “But I do read lips.”

For an instant, she swore she saw a hint of a smile, then it was gone.

“You read lips,” she said flatly.
Of course you do.

*~*~*

Morgan had just pulled into a parking spot in the hospital lot when her phone rang.

“Morgan,” she said. Then she smiled and pointed at the phone. “It’s your sister.” She returned to the call. “I hear you were badass this morning.” Her smile grew. “Mr. Action Figure? I hope you didn’t call him that. Oh, good. It’s more what Neil doesn’t say that counts.” A pause. “Yeah, he’s here. Hold on.” Morgan offered Alex the phone. “This call, you’ll like.”

“Miri? God, are you okay?”

“What kind of hell have you unleashed on us?” she demanded.

Alex grimaced. “The worst kind.”

She seemed to hear the agony behind the words, and her tone softened. “What about you?”

His hand went to the bandage before he could stop himself. It was becoming a habit, one he’d have to break. “It’s been a little rough here, but nothing like what you guys went through. I’m sorry about the house, Miri.”

“So am I. Not the actual place. It was a total dump. But I’d made it mine, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand. Once this is over, we’ll find you a place of your own.”

“What, you’re not going to camp on my couch, vet my boyfriends?”

“Not unless you want me to.”

There was a short silence, and in the background he could hear a faint engine noise, but he couldn’t place it. A boat motor, perhaps?