Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (21 page)

Although his cock obviously had a plan, Hawke
took control. He reached down between them, unwrapped her hand, and
placed it flat against his chest. “We need to have that talk.”

Rachel nodded, her bedroom eyes sparkling in
the early morning sunlight.

He took a deep breath and prepared to break
her heart. The mere thought of it wilted his erection. “I’m not who
you think, Rachel.”

She gave a soft smile. “I’ve been pleasantly
surprised.”

Hawke laid a hand over hers and squeezed. “I
work for the United States government.”

Her fingers pressed into his skin and her
brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. You’re a major rock star.”

“I’m undercover.”

Her lips quirked. “As a rock star?”

Hawke groaned and rolled away from her to
stand beside the bed, the bitter taste of disgust on his tongue.
“Believe it or not, yes. It sounds ridiculous but it’s the
God-honest truth.” When she didn’t offer argument or laughter, he
continued. “Max, Steele, Shadow and I are Navy SEALs hired by Uncle
Sam to track terrorist activity. Jaydon Hawke allows me freedom to
travel the world without suspicion. The wealth and notoriety allows
me to infiltrate suspicious cells at will.”

“The government trained you to be a rock
star?”

He had to smile, hoping to God she would
accept his explanation. “No, I just happened to have hidden
talent.”

She didn’t return his smile and pushed
herself to her knees. “I see. And, how exactly do I fit into all of
this?”

“We suspected you to be a courier for Manuel
Diego.”

She sat stoic, her usual control holding her
captive. He wanted her to scream, hit him, throw something, cry
even.

Instead, she folded her arms across her
breasts. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Hawke pulled on his jeans. “He has probably a
thousand aliases, but he’s the brain behind building nuclear
weapons.”

Her eyes never left his. “Assuming I believe
you, I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Diego has posed as one of your overseas
clients. Plans for building the weapons are shipped to you in a
tube of architectural sketches. Someone else retrieves them from
your office.”

She left the bed to throw open a bureau
drawer and pull on a tank top and shorts. “I never exchange the
tubes. They come and go through the mail room on the lower floor of
the building.”

“Diego doesn’t expect you to be there, baby.
In fact, they prefer you’re not.”

“How on Earth does he smuggle plans like that
into my office without my knowledge?”

Jade grabbed the cardboard tube Max had
planted there and handed it to her. “He’s a terrorist, honey. This
is the one you were supposed to get the day you were shot.”

She accepted his offering. “So, you’re
telling me there are plans for a nuclear weapon in here?”

Against his will, he nodded.

Rachel wiggled the plug in the end of the
cardboard loose, pulled out the blueprints inside, and unrolled
them. “These are my sketches.”

Hawke worked his pocketknife from his jeans
pocket and slid the blade down the side of the tube. As soon as he
separated the cut, a tiny blue flash drive fell to the floor.

Rachel’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” Her face
paled.

Hawke lowered her to the bed, pushed her head
between her legs, and sat beside her. “Deep breaths.”

After a few deep breaths, she lifted her
head. “I swear I didn’t know anything about this, Hawke.”

“We know that now.”

“You really thought I was part of a terrorist
cell?”

“Afraid so.”

“So this whole charade was a game?”

Although she deserved more, he could only
offer short sentences. “Most of it.”

She paused for a brief moment, as if trying
to read his mind. “And you and I, that was just part of the
plan?”

Acid churned his stomach. “At first.”

“It wasn’t a game to me,” she whispered.

Desperate to make the whole damn mess
disappear, he offered the best explanation he could. “I know and
I’m sorry. I didn’t plan for things to turn out like this.”

“You used me.”

“I admit I tried, but you haven’t been a very
chatty or cooperative informant.”

She didn’t see the humor. “So, who are you?
Jaydon Hawke, rock star, or Hawke, undercover Navy SEAL?”

“Both. I’ll always be Jaydon Hawke. I mean, I
just can’t quit being a rock star. But I am first and foremost a
Navy SEAL, determined to keep this maniac from hurting you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I planned on it. Then you got shot.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she mumbled.

He bit his lip to keep from grinning at her
ability to see humor in the situation. “Look, Rachel, you have to
believe me when I say I didn’t make love to you just to get
information.”

He took a deep breath and prepared himself
for the words he knew she would say. “I don’t know what to
believe.”

“I know this is hard for you.”
It’s
killing me
. “But, you’ve got to trust me.”

“Not so sure about that.”

Aggravated to hell at himself, he reached to
grasp her shoulder. “Damn it, Rachel. Your life is in danger. Trust
me or not, I won’t let Diego have you.”

She tilted her head to the side,
heart-wrenching pain evident in her eyes. Hawke fought himself hard
and fast to keep from reaching for her.

“Fine,” she said finally.

“You should cancel the photo shoot.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Diego is a cold-hearted son of a bitch,
sweetheart. He won’t think twice about killing you.”

“Use me as bait.”

“What?” Hawke shook his head from side to
side to make sure he’d heard correctly. “Hell no.”

“Yes.” Rachel knocked his hand from her
shoulder and stood from the bed. “You listen to me, Hawke or
whoever the hell you are, and you listen well. I’m sick and tired
of being used. If luring this jerk out of hiding is what I have to
do to get rid of him, then so be it.” Hawke opened his mouth to
speak but she barreled right over him. “Then I can go back to being
brainy and boring and all of you can go straight to hell.”

Hawke stood deathly still for seconds after
Rachel’s outburst.
Holy hell
.

“Put your shirt on,” she demanded, “I can’t
think straight as it is.”

Without argument, Hawke pulled his shirt over
his head and took advantage of her silence. “I need to know you
understand why I used you.”

“I understand your motives, but I’m madder
than hell. Any discussion about our relationship is now off limits.
Anything else?”

He shook his head. “I think we’ve covered
it.”

“Good.” She threw open the bedroom door.
“Let’s go catch a terrorist.”

***

A chill climbed Max’s spine as the doorbell
chimed. How in the hell had Rachel managed to talk him into
this?

As he stepped to open the front door, he
sensed her immediately. The sweet, sexy smell of cotton candy and
sunshine. Cameron. Completely Cameron. A smell so sweet that if he
inhaled too deeply, his teeth would rot. Still, he couldn’t resist.
He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“About time,” she chided.

With a sway of her curvy hips, she slipped
past him and made her way to the living room.

Max closed the door, set the alarm, and
followed behind. “How did you get in the gate?”

She frowned while she tossed her bag to the
sofa then sat down next to it. “How do you think?”

He crossed his arms and opted for
silence.

She looked up and rolled her baby blues. “I
know the code, Einstein.” She pulled out a sketchbook and then
patted the cushion beside her. “C’mon, Scaredy Cat, I promise it
won’t hurt.”

He eased himself down next to her, shamefully
aroused. Curse words swam across his brain. Something about
fighting this white-hot attraction was just wrong.

“You could see better if you take off your
glasses.”

And expose his reaction to her? “No.”

“Suit yourself, Joe Cool.” She shrugged and
pushed the book his direction. “Since you’ll be Hawke’s roomie,
Rachel wanted you to see the sketches for your bedroom.”

His eyes widened when he looked at her
drawings. Palm trees, coconuts, and wild, loud animal prints
screamed at him. Hell, there was even a monkey swinging from the
palm tree and an alligator at the foot of the bed.

He took a deep breath and shoved the paper
back at her. “You’ve never been in the jungle, have you?”

“No, why?”

“If you aimed for a jungle with that drawing,
you missed.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No.” Although, he would play Tarzan and Jane
with her. Any time. Any place. “I’ve spent enough time in the
jungle.”

“It suits your personality.”

He sat quietly behind his glasses and worked
hard to keep his face expressionless.

She giggled and handed him another drawing.
“Relax, Rambo, this is what I really had in mind.”

Max glanced cautiously at the second sketch
and a sense of relief seeped through his skin. This room had more
of a techno feel to it, showcasing shiny chrome fixtures and
electronic gadgets strategically placed throughout. The colors were
bold and reeked of raw masculinity. She’d even covered the
furniture in his trademark black leather.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much,” he agreed.

“See?” she chided. “You got your panties in a
wad for nothing.”

There was slight movement between his legs.
Oh, hell, no
. He refused to sit there and discuss panties
with her. Especially since he wondered if she wore any.

“I don’t wear panties, Hot Shot,” he tossed
back at her.

The sexy little smirk she gave him before she
spoke actually made him second guess his admission. “What do you
wear?”

“Nothing.”

When her mouth fell open for a split second,
he thought he might have actually shut her up. Except when her
pouty lips curled into a vampy blood-sucking smile, he knew
better.

“Me either.”

Every single ounce of his military training
came into play as he demanded discipline from his body.

Un-freaking-believable.

Only the buzzer from the intercom spurred him
to action. He reached to press the button. “Yeah?”

“Steele and Shadow,” the voice on the other
end answered. “5842.”

Cameron tilted her head to one side. “That’s
not the code I used.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“I know everything.”

She snorted. “Sure you do. Why does the gate
open with two codes?”

“Five.”

“Five security codes?”

He nodded. “I reprogrammed the system. Each
code is assigned to a different individual.”

“You are a major overachiever.”

He shrugged and headed back to the front
door.

Steele ambled inside with his usual carefree
smirk. “Captain.”

Max closed the door and turned. “Living
room’s this way.”

Max led Steele and Shadow to the living area.
“Have a seat. As soon as Hawke gets down here, we’ll talk
strategy.”

Steele’s eyes widened.

“Watch yourself.” Max gestured for him to sit
in a vacant chair. “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

Cameron narrowed her eyes on him. “You’re
such a sweet talker.”

He let his lips curl into a mocking grin. “Am
I wrong?”

Max prepared himself for a full frontal
attack when she simply shrugged and sat back down on the sofa.
Hell
. The silence wasn’t good.

She finally folded her arms across her chest.
“Nice to see you again, Brett.”

“Holy shit,” Shadow mumbled.

Max turned and pinned Steel with an icy
stare. “You know her? How the hell do you know her?”

“We met at the coffee shop,” Cameron
said.

“She made him, Captain,” Shadow chimed.

“Leave him alone, Terminator.”

Steele’s jaw dropped.

Shadow snickered. “Well I’ll be damned.”

Steele cleared his throat. “I expected more
of a crowd when we came in.”

“Diablo PD cleared everybody out last night.
We haven’t been out yet today. My vote is we stay in.”

Cameron snorted. “Like that’s gonna
happen.”

Max turned and raised an eyebrow in
question.

“The calendar,” she answered.

He frowned. “Calendar?”

“You know, the thing that keeps track of
months and days?”

“What about it?”

“Your brain must be the size of a peanut. The
photo shoot at the fire station is scheduled today.”

“Re-schedule.”

Cameron folded her arms across her chest and
both eyebrows met over her eyes. “No.”

Max heard Steele suck in a hard breath.
Shadow sat frozen. The tick of a clock somewhere near counted the
seconds it took to keep him from turning her across his knee and
paddling her until her ass was a bright, cherry red. His cock ached
just thinking about it. And then just when he was ready to react,
Hawke and Rachel saved him from total humiliation.

Max took one look at Hawke and knew the earth
was about to shake. “You told her.”

Hawke nodded as he and Rachel walked down the
stairs. “She knows.”

As expected, Cameron spoke next. “Knows
what?”

Max turned his attention to Rachel. “You want
to tell her?”

Rachel limped to the sofa and sat next to
Cameron. “No, you can explain. I’m not sure I really believe it
myself.”

Max raised an eyebrow at Hawke.

“I did the best I could,” Hawke mumbled.

Max folded his arms across his chest and
briefly summarized the mission. When he finished, it took him two
full seconds to realize the room was bathed in silence. He stole a
glance at the two women, amazed that one in particular hadn’t
initiated a full frontal attack.

Hawke broke the momentary peace. “Captain,
she wants us to use her as bait.”