Hidden Away (21 page)

After peering in, he didn’t see her, and it was likely she was still standing by the damn windows in the front. He tested the window and found it locked as well. Not just locked, but there were sticks between the top of the sill and the middle to reinforce the security. No one would get in unless they broke the panes.

So it was back to the door.

He took out the small pouch that held his “tools.” Hell, it had been a damn long time since he’d resorted to a breaking-and-entering that didn’t involve explosives. It took him longer than he’d like, but he finally jimmied the lock and carefully opened the door.

Only to find two chains that prevented it opening more than two inches.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

There was no quiet way to do this. He didn’t exactly carry around bolt cutters.

So he’d make an entrance anyway, despite his resolve not to scare the daylights out of her.

He pulled back and then rammed his shoulder into the heavy wood. It took two attempts before the chains gave way and he sprawled into the house. He hit the floor and rolled. Only to stop in front of a pair of female feet.

If he expected her to scream, panic or have an otherwise girly reaction, he was dead wrong. When he glanced upward, he was staring down the barrel of a fucking cannon. Jesus, she was holding a goddamn Desert Eagle .50 cal. When he looked higher, he met with one pissed-off woman. He dropped his gaze again to the gun to see that she had a haphazard grip around the stock, and worse, the safety was off, and her finger was curled way too tight around the trigger.

“Sarah,” he said in a low voice.

“You bastard,” she hissed. “It was you all along, wasn’t it? You weren’t there on some vacation. Someone sent you after me.”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said mildly, still keeping a very close eye on her trigger finger. “But if I’d been sent to kill you, you would already be dead.”

Confusion flickered across her face. Clearly that hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear. “Did Marcus send you?”

Interesting that she seemed to think someone else would have sent him. He’d get to that later. Right now he had to be damn convincing. “Yes. He sent me.”

Her brow furrowed and she took a step back although she kept the damn gun pointed at him, and the problem was where she had it pointed—though he wasn’t going to take the chance of pissing her off by asking her to target a different portion of his anatomy. There was a humiliating medical report he had no desire to file. Having his nuts shot off by a pissed-off woman.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she stared down at him. “Who is Marcus? And you better know all the answers or I’m going to shoot.”

There was a firm set to her chin. Her lips were pressed tight and her eyes glittered, and it wasn’t with fear. No, she seemed more than capable of shooting him just because she was pissed off.

“Can I get up?” he asked calmly.

“No. Stay down. Start talking.”

He sighed. He took a shot that Resnick knew what the hell he was talking about and hoped he wasn’t wrong. “Your brother sent me. He doesn’t want you unprotected.”

Surprise made her suddenly unsteady, and he tensed, hoping she didn’t shoot him by accident. Then her eyes narrowed again. “Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“When exactly would you have had this heart-to-heart?” He took another stab and hoped he was right about Sarah not being in constant contact with Lattimer. He suspected she corresponded solely by email, judging by how fanatical she was about that damn laptop. “Your brother isn’t the type to spell things out through an email. Nothing’s one hundred percent secure, you know. Plus, he didn’t want to worry you. My job was to stay close and make sure you stayed safe.”

She frowned. “So why all the elaborate charade? You didn’t have to date me to watch out for me.”

He met her gaze and remembered kissing her. Remembered touching her and stroking his hands over the curves of her body. And what he was about to tell her, while a lie, would be the absolute truth if her brother really had hired him to protect her.

“I wanted to spend the time with you. You intrigued me.”

“So all that bullshit on the island was just you making sure our paths intersected repeatedly so you could do a job?”

The note of incredulity in her voice was hard to miss. As was the sarcasm. But there was also a hint of hurt in her voice that twisted the knife a little further in his gut.

“Hell no, and I think you know that.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head for a moment. The hand holding the gun wavered precariously, and he seized the opportunity before she accidentally pulled the trigger and made a woman out of him.

He rolled and grasped her wrist, pointing the gun toward the wall. Then he squeezed until she yelped in pain and the gun dropped with a clatter to the floor. He immediately eased off her wrist but held on while he reached for the gun with his other hand.

Still holding on to her hand, he hoisted himself up and then turned her arm over and rubbed his thumb over the mark he’d made on the inside of her wrist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She yanked her arm back and clutched her arm to her chest, her eyes troubled as she stared nervously at him.

“Who are you?”

He popped the clip out of her gun and pocketed it before laying the pistol on a nearby end table. “My name is Garrett. I didn’t lie about that.”

“That tells me precisely nothing.”

“I work for different people,” he said. “I protect people. It’s what I do.”

She arched a delicate brow. “You’re a mercenary?”

“If you’re asking if I take money in return for my services, then yes. I don’t work for free.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And how much are you being paid to protect me?”

“Does it matter? What’s important is that I keep you safe. I’d think you’d take a keen interest in that part.”

“And you expect me to trust you. Just like that.”

He had to control the wince. Yes, he wanted her to trust him even as he fed her a huge lie. He went on the offensive instead.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” he said bluntly. “I damn sure wouldn’t have gone through an elaborate charade to get close to you, and I damn sure wouldn’t have kissed you.”

Her eyes widened and he kicked himself for bringing it up. He wasn’t trying to be manipulative and make it about emotions though it would certainly look that way in the end.

“Why did you then?”

“Because I wanted to.” That much was the truth.

She didn’t look like she knew what to say to that. Confusion flickered in her eyes and then she turned away, her hands going to rub at her temples. When he walked around enough that he could see her face again, her utter fatigue flashed like a neon sign.

“When was the last time you slept?” he demanded.

She looked even more startled by the question. Her hands came away from her head and she stared at him like he was a puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out.

“I don’t get you, Garrett. I don’t get any of this. Why are you here? I don’t need you.”

“The hell you don’t.”

She raised her hand again and pressed her open palm to her forehead. “Let me rephrase then. I don’t want you here. Go home. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want Marcus involved. Just leave me alone.”

He snorted, growing more irritated by the minute. “You really think you can go it alone? Sarah, you’re a victim waiting to happen. Hell, you’ve been standing in front of the windows, gawking around like an idiot.”

Her head snapped up and she glared at him, her eyes flashing. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Hell yeah, I have. I’ve been here for two days scouting and making damn sure you weren’t followed. You haven’t exactly made it hard for anyone to find you. You may as well hang up a neon sign that says ‘Sarah Daniels Is Here’ and paint a big red X on your forehead.”

She covered her face with her hand and closed her eyes. “God, I was careful. I
thought
I was careful. Am I deluding myself? I don’t know anything about hiding. I’ve never had to hide.”

She looked dangerously close to collapsing. Her shoulders slumped in a gesture of defeat, and she looked so damn small and vulnerable. He stepped forward, fully intending to pull her into his arms, but he hesitated. On the island he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but it was different now. He’d misled her. She probably thought everything that happened on the island was merely an effort to gain her trust. And while that had been his initial intention, it sure as hell wasn’t why he kissed her or why he was dying to do the same right here and right now. Only now he’d upped the stakes. He’d never outright lied to her before now.

“Sarah,” he said in a low voice.

She looked up, her eyes raw, exhaustion practically screaming back at him.

“I don’t expect you to fully trust me yet, but right now you don’t have a hell of a lot of choices. Until I know what the threat to you is and eliminate it, you’re stuck with me. That has nothing to do with your brother or anyone else. It has to do with you being safe, and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make that happen.”

“
Why
? Why would you care?”

He stared back at her for a long time. “I care. Let’s just leave it at that.”

SARAH
gawked back at Garrett, still trying to process the fact that he was standing in her house. In Mexico. She wanted to be furious—she
was
furious—but she was too damn tired and befuddled to do anything but stare like an idiot as she tried to take it all in.

Then she shook her head. Why the hell were they standing there talking about kissing?

He reached out and cupped his hand over her cheek. The touch was a jolt to her system and sent a flicker of awareness down her spine. He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone, the pad rasping over her skin until a shiver crept up her nape.

“You need to sleep, Sarah. I’ll watch over you. No one will hurt you. I need you at your best and then we need to get the hell out of here.”

She swayed, hypnotized by the deep timbre of his voice. How easy he made it to fall under his spell.

“What’s in this for you?” Then as if she remembered, “Besides the money,” she said with a hint of bitterness.

His hand stilled on her face, and a slight current of tension raced through his fingertips. He seemed to struggle with the question, and she wondered if he’d bother answering. Then he dropped his thumb until it rubbed over her lips. “You. You’re what’s in it for me.”

She took a step back, disconcerted by the utter seriousness she heard in his voice. He followed. She retreated until her back bumped against the wall and then he bumped into her, his body pressing against hers until his heat invaded her limbs.

She raised her hands, fully intent on shoving him back, but they stilled when they came into contact with his chest.

“I’m going to kiss you again, Sarah.”

“No, you’re not.”

“The hell I’m not,” he growled just as his lips melted over hers.

This was stupid. They were kissing. She’d just threatened him with a gun. He’d just called her an idiot who was trying to get herself killed. He’d purposely positioned himself on the island to get close to her. Their meeting hadn’t been happenstance. He’d lied.

But he hadn’t. Not really. She’d been an idiot for not being more careful. He hadn’t had to lie to her because she’d never pressed him for information. He’d been there, a strong, steady presence and she’d latched on like some pathetic moron. Much like she was doing now.

She stood still, determined not to respond. Determined that she could show indifference. That she was still angry over his deception. But he was patient. Oh, the man was patient. And lethal. He wooed her with his mouth, tasting, kissing each part of her lips before he gently teased her mouth open so his tongue gained entrance.

He savored her like she was something decadent and delicious, his tongue dancing lightly over hers and then stroking, warm and soft. She closed her eyes and swayed into him, her fingers digging into the hardness of his chest. She froze when her belly pressed into his groin and she felt the evidence of his arousal, hard and hot against her softness.

He cursed softly and pulled his mouth away, leaving only an inch between them. “Ignore that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. Her shoulders shook and she looked down and laughed all over again.

“What the hell is so funny?” he demanded. “Definitely not good for a man’s ego when a woman looks at his dick and laughs.”

This time her laughter came out in breathless wheezes. She laughed so hard, tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and then streamed down her cheeks. He glared at her, his scowl growing more ferocious with every burst of laughter.

“On the contrary,” she managed to get out. “You tell me to forget something that obvious?”

“I was trying not to be an asshole,” he grumbled.

For some reason she found that even funnier. “You break into my house. You take my gun away from me. Informed me you lied about pretty much everything when we were on the island. Then tell me I’m an idiot who’s trying to get herself killed. And you’re worried about being an asshole?”

He opened his mouth then promptly shut it. Then he backed away and picked up her gun from the table he’d laid it on. He turned it over in his hand then looked back up at her. “Not a bad choice, but it’s too big for you. You weren’t holding it tight enough for it not to kick back and probably knock you on your ass. You need something smaller that fits your hand better. A .38 would be a good choice.”

She frowned. “I was holding it tight enough to shoot you.”

“You were aiming at my balls,” he said in a disgruntled voice.

“Oh.”

“And if you start laughing again, I’m going to kick your little ass.”