Midnight Action (21 page)

Her throat burned from the irony of it. Jim had snatched away
her
storybook ending, and now here he was, getting his. Christ, he didn’t deserve it.

Then take it from him. Kill him.

Noelle swallowed a sigh, not even bothering to pretend the threat held any weight. She’d already proven that she couldn’t kill Jim. Whenever he got close enough, she ended up sleeping with him instead.

God. Her lack of willpower was pathetic.

But not anymore. Nope, after today she refused to give him any more power over her. Sexually, emotionally, mentally—Jim Morgan wouldn’t be able to touch her anymore.

Because after today, he would never see her again.

•   •   •

“Are you nervous?” Warmth and tenderness clung to Gabriel’s tone as he pulled the key out of the Vespa’s ignition.

Cate’s heartbeat was erratic as she ran her hand over her scalp to smooth out her helmet hair. “A little.”

His brown eyes twinkled knowingly. “A little?”

She bit her lip. “Okay, a lot.”

With a gentle smile, Gabriel reached out and stroked her cheek. Cate’s heart did a wild flip because it was the first time he’d ever touched her like that.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he said softly. “I mean, this is a big deal.”

“I know.”

He brushed his thumb over her cheek in a soothing motion, and she found herself leaning into his touch. Gosh, it felt good. It felt really, really good.

Swallowing, she swept her gaze over his face. He was so good-looking, so masculine, and she wasn’t comfortable with these new and terrifying feelings he evoked in her. She’d known this boy her entire life, but the hot, achy way he made her feel was a recent development.

Face it, you’re in crush with him.

Oh God. It was true. She was totally crushing on Gabriel Traver.

Unfortunately, now was definitely not the time to think about that.

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” he told her.

She swallowed again. “Yes, I do.”

As if on cue, her cell phone buzzed, and she reached into the front pocket of her jeans to get it. The message on the screen only triggered a fresh burst of nervousness.

“He says it’s a go,” she murmured. “The decoy is waiting.”

Gabriel looked unhappy. “I don’t like this, Cate. What if Christian and Bruno figure out I’m not with you?”

“They won’t.” She spoke with confidence she certainly didn’t feel, but she figured only one of them was allowed to worry, and Gabriel was already filling that role.

She, on the other hand, was determined to have faith in James Morgan.

Clearly the guy was some kind of supersoldier, judging by the ridiculously detailed instructions he’d given her. Last night she’d sent him nearly a dozen photos, shots of her from various angles, pictures of the clothes she planned on wearing, her shoes, accessories, the whole nine yards.

And the orders hadn’t stopped after he’d received the pictures. He’d asked her to wear her hair down, to bring sunglasses even if the day ended up being overcast, to give her cell phone to Gabriel before she entered the tower.

It seemed like a huge amount of trouble for one little meeting, and yet Cate trusted him in spite of all of his insane requests. Did that make her equally insane, though? To readily trust a man she didn’t even know?

As she and Gabriel hopped off the Vespa, she glanced over at the shiny black Audi that had followed them into the pay parking lot just southeast of the tower. Her bodyguards were sitting inside the car, waiting for her and Gabriel to embark on their day trip.

The two men had assured her they would keep their distance today; Bruno had even winked at her when Gabriel picked her up at the estate earlier. Evidently her bodyguards had figured out what she herself had only realized today, and they seemed more than happy to give Cate and her “date” some much-needed privacy.

“Ready?” Gabriel held out his hand.

She placed her palm in his, and her pulse sped up when he laced their fingers together. It was the first time she’d ever held hands with a guy before.

She kinda liked it.

“Cate?”

She moved her gaze off their interlocked fingers and noticed his questioning expression.

“Ready?” he said again.

She managed a nervous nod.

“All right, then. Let’s go meet your father.”

•   •   •

Jim Morgan didn’t get scared. He was a hardened mercenary, for fuck’s sake. He’d been shot. Knifed. Nearly blown up by grenades. He’d tangled with criminals, warlords, enemy soldiers. He’d almost died more times than he could count.

And not once, not one measly time, had he ever been scared.

Until today.

No, that wasn’t true. The fear had actually taken root yesterday, the moment he’d laid eyes on those photographs of Catarina Durand.

He’d spent hours staring at the pictures, hadn’t slept a wink because he was too fascinated with the face peering at him from his phone. Now he was about to see her in person, and his palms were clammy as hell, his heart pounding incessantly and his throat tight with apprehension.

“She’s here.”

Liam’s Boston accent came over the comm, a reminder that Morgan wasn’t just here to visit one of the world’s most famous landmarks. His team was positioned around the perimeter, ready to swoop in and save his ass if things went south.

“Just pulled into the lot we told them to park in,” Liam reported. “We’ve got two bodyguards in a black Audi, but they’re keeping their distance.”

“Could still be a trap.” Sean Reilly’s voice filled the line.

It’s not a trap,
Morgan almost blurted out, but he held his tongue.

“All clear from where I’m standing,” Ash checked in.

“Everything down here looks secure,” Sullivan piped up.

When Noelle didn’t check in, Morgan scratched his cheek, the motion of his hand triggering the nearly invisible mic tucked in his ear. The earpiece was motion-activated, which meant that the speaker’s voice would only be transmitted over the comm when he wanted it to, leaving the feed free of constant chatter.

“Noelle?” he murmured without moving his lips.

There was a beat, and then, “All clear. No sign of trouble.”

He relaxed the instant he heard her voice. A part of him wished Noelle was on the observation deck with him, and that told him he was even more nervous than he’d thought. The woman had never caused him anything but extreme agitation, and now he wanted her by his side?

He couldn’t even begin to decode that fucked-up logic.

Pushing away the troubling notion, he fixed his gaze on the elevator across the platform. Bailey hadn’t checked in either, but he knew she had a lot on her plate at the moment. She and Cate were scheduled to rendezvous in the bathroom of a small café near the tower, where Bailey would not only have to transform, but do it well enough to fool Cate’s bodyguards.

Morgan found himself holding his breath as he waited for Bailey’s report. He curled his fingers over the railing and shifted his gaze, taking in the spectacular view in front of him. He focused on the Arc de Triomphe in the distance, slowly releasing his breath as he stared at the majestic monument.

“She’s on her way up.” Bailey’s soft voice finally echoed in his ear.

“Everything go okay?” he demanded.

“Easy as pie,” Noelle’s chameleon said cheerfully. “You’ll see.”

The feed went quiet after that. Morgan once again glanced at the elevator, once again holding his breath.

An eternity seemed to pass as he waited for Catarina Durand to appear. The elevator doors opened on two different occasions, a fresh rush of tourists pouring out each time. And each time, his chest squeezed with disappointment because Cate wasn’t among them.

Eventually the disappointment became impatience, then concern. She should have been there by now. Something was wrong.

He went to trigger his mic, but suddenly the doors opened again and he saw her.

Holy mother of God
.

She was beautiful. His daughter was beautiful.

The long, dark blond hair from her photos was gone, replaced by a black wig with sweeping bangs, but it wasn’t her hair that ensnared his gaze, nor was it the pretty yellow dress clinging to her willowy body. It was her face, heart-stoppingly beautiful, pure and total perfection.

She hesitated in front of the elevator, looking around nervously, and then she spotted him, and her eyes widened slightly.

From across the room, he gave an imperceptible nod.

A second later, she began making her way to him.

His gaze stayed glued on hers, while his pulse drummed in his ears in a fast, deafening tempo. By the time she reached him, his entire mouth had gone dry. He couldn’t believe she was actually there, standing two feet away from him. He quickly memorized every detail of her face—the slight pout of her lips, her rosy complexion, the tiny beauty mark high on her left cheek. But it was her cobalt blue eyes that transfixed him, making it impossible to look away.

Morgan gulped hard, trying to bring moisture to his cotton-stuffed mouth. “You...” He swallowed again, his voice coming out hoarse. “You have my eyes.”

Cate looked startled for a moment. And then she nodded.

“I know.”

Morgan had no idea what to say next. He was too busy staring at Cate, too overwhelmed by the entire situation. He saw her resemblance to Ariana, but there was something more refined about Cate’s features. And her expression conveyed a gleam of intelligence that Ariana had never possessed.

“Did everything go okay down there?” he asked awkwardly.

“Oh, you mean when I walked into the bathroom and a strange woman ordered me to change clothes with her? Sure, it went great. Super fun.”

His lips twitched. “I’m sorry for all the theatrics, but I like to take certain precautions.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.” She offered a dry grin, but it faded fast, as another wave of discomfort hung over them.

“I...” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know where to start.”

Cate fiddled with the strap of her brown leather purse, which Bailey must have given her because the photos she’d sent him of her outfit had shown a green canvas messenger bag. “Me neither,” she admitted. “I didn’t think it would be this awkward.”

As she went quiet again, Morgan forced himself to quit staring at the girl and act like a soldier. They might have eluded Cate’s guards for the moment, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to relax. For all he knew, he could still be walking into an ambush.

“So...” He paused. “You’re turning seventeen soon, huh?”

“In a couple of weeks, actually.”

“Do you, uh, go to school?”

“I’m homeschooled.” She rested both hands on the railing, peered out at the cityscape for a moment, then glanced back at him. “I’m graduating early, though. Just finishing up my last two senior courses now.”

He knitted his brows. “In the summer?”

“Education doesn’t take a vacation.” A blush rose in her cheeks. “Sorry. That’s what Grandpa always says.”

Morgan froze.

Grandpa
.

Out of nowhere, a bolt of fury struck him down, making his hands tremble.

Walther Dietrich had played a part in Cate’s upbringing.

Morgan hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on that horrifying truth, but he couldn’t ignore it now. Christ. A ruthless arms dealer had raised his daughter.

And yet...she seemed normal. She seemed...good.

He didn’t sense an ounce of pretension in her, and certainly not the nasty streak that had been running inside of Ariana. Walther had raised Ariana too, and she’d been a spoiled brat who’d treated the people around her like trash.

A part of him had expected Catarina Durand to be the same, but the young girl in front of him looked and acted like a smart, well-adjusted kid.

“Uh...” He searched for something to say. “Do you have any questions for me?”

He’d expected her to hesitate, but there was absolutely no delay in her response. “Why did you leave my mother?” she said bluntly.

Morgan blinked. “Oh. You don’t pull any punches, huh?” He paused again. “How much has your grandfather told you?”

Frustration clouded her face. “Nothing. He told me nothing.”

“He never said anything about me?” Morgan said with a frown. “Nothing about my relationship with your mother?”

“He told me that you never loved her, and that you left her when she got pregnant. He tried to track you down after I was born, but apparently you were already dead.”

Morgan’s jaw went rigid. “He was lying to you.”

She rolled her eyes. “No kidding, seeing as you’re standing right here in front of me.” Her amused expression dissolved into anger. “But he knew the truth the whole time. He knew you weren’t dead. I found a file about you in his office—that’s how I got your contact information.”

“You snooped around in his office?”

The look she shot him was downright defiant. “I picked the lock and broke in.”

He choked down a laugh. “You picked the lock,” he echoed.

A faint grin tugged on her lips, and she didn’t appear at all remorseful. “My friend is the son of a locksmith. He taught me how to do it.”

“Your friend...the one you came here with today?”

She nodded. “Gabriel. We pretty much grew up together.”

Morgan narrowed his eyes. “Is he your boyfriend?”

His tone came out sharper than intended, and was laced with disapproval neither of them had expected, which swiftly brought the gleam of defiance back to her eyes.

“And if he is? What are you going to do about it? Forbid me to see him?”

He drew in a frustrated breath, but at the same time, he couldn’t fight a spark of pride. Man, this girl wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. He liked that. It told him she had a backbone. She had
fire
. It was a healthy fire, the kind that gave a person drive and confidence.

“I guess I don’t have any right to do that, do I?” With a rueful shake of his head, he met her eyes and added, “You should know that some of the things your grandfather told you were true. I didn’t love your mother.”

“I see.”

It didn’t surprise him that she took his confession in stride. He got the feeling nothing fazed this girl.

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.” He swallowed again, wishing he was better at articulating himself. Wishing he wasn’t a gruff motherfucker who didn’t know the first thing about talking about his feelings. “I searched for you. I’ve been searching for you since the day I found out your mother was pregnant.”

Her mouth puckered in a frown. “Haven’t you ever heard of a phone book?”

“It’s more complicated than that. There are so many things you don’t know.”

“Duh. How about you tell me?”

Her sarcasm made him smile. Lord, how was it possible for her to be so much like him when they’d never met before today?

There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much he wanted to
know
about her. But he had to tread carefully. He couldn’t bombard her with questions, and he certainly couldn’t give her too many answers. Not until he was certain that her motives for coming here were pure. And besides, no matter how he felt about Walther and Ariana, they were a major part of Cate’s life, and he knew he couldn’t drag their names through the mud in front of her.

“I will tell you,” he answered. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Cate. Only it can’t be today. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I know.” She sounded genuinely regretful.

He reached into his pocket for the burner phone he’d brought, his fingers trembling as he handed it to her. “Take this. From now on if you need to contact me, use this phone. It can’t be traced back to either one of us.”

Nodding, she tucked the phone into her purse. “’Kay. Thanks.”

“I want to see you again,” he said hoarsely. “How can we make that happen?”

“I don’t know.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “My grandfather wouldn’t be happy if he found out I saw you. I mean, he told me you were
dead
. I’m pretty sure that means he doesn’t want me to have any contact with you. And my mother...” She stopped talking, looking even more distressed than before.

Morgan bit the inside of his cheek, then forced himself to ask, “How...how is your mother?”

A groove of hesitation dug into Cate’s forehead. “It’s complicated.”

As frustrating as her response was, it brought another flicker of pride. Everyone he knew always accused him of being a cryptic motherfucker, and it turned out his kid was just the same.

“Is she well?” he pressed. “Was she good to you when you were growing up?”

He didn’t miss the sorrow that floated through her eyes. “More or less.” She shrugged. “My grandfather is my guardian.
Maman
has no say in my life.”

The confession roused curiosity as well as suspicion. What had Ariana done in order to be replaced as Cate’s guardian? He was dying to ask, but he got the feeling Cate wouldn’t tell him, so he didn’t push her.

“Walther takes care of you, then.”

Her face donned a blank look. “Walther?”

He quickly corrected himself. “Maurice. I meant Maurice.”

“I think you said exactly what you meant.” Her mouth tightened, but again she proved just how alike they were, because she also didn’t push. “I guess there
is
a lot I don’t know.”

Morgan moistened his dry lips. He suddenly found himself yearning to hold her. Just throw his arms around her and envelop her in a warm hug, but he was terrified that if he did, she’d recoil in horror.

“So what now?” he said softly.

Cate sighed. “I’m going to tell Grandpa I know the truth. That you’re alive, and I saw you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It might be the only way I’ll get to see you again. I don’t have a lot of opportunities to sneak around. I’m watched all the time.”

“Why?” he asked sharply. “Why do you need bodyguards, Cate?”

“Grandpa is very rich, which means he has a lot of enemies. I used to think he was overprotective, but as I got older I understood where he was coming from. There was this...incident...a while ago, and it made him even more paranoid—”

“What kind of incident?” Morgan cut in.

“That’s not important. But it means I’m not free to see you whenever I want. If I want you in my life, he’s going to have to agree to it.”

Morgan’s heart clenched. “Do you? Want me in your life, I mean?”

She was quiet for so long he thought she wouldn’t answer, but finally she nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”

He hesitated. “Your grandfather will never agree.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Because he hired someone to kill me.

Morgan reined in the words before they came rushing out. He didn’t want to frighten her, first and foremost, but considering she’d spoken about her grandfather without malice or contempt, he doubted she’d believe him anyway.

But he knew without a shred of doubt that Walther Dietrich would never allow him to have contact with Cate. Morgan had made an enemy out of Dietrich the moment his deception had come to light, and the only way this war between them would end was when one of them was no longer alive to fight it.

“Why don’t you come with me?” The question popped out before he could stop it.

Cate looked startled. “What?”

“Instead of going back to Wal—Maurice. You can just leave here with me. Today. Right now.”

“And go where?” she asked with a frown.

“My house. You could come and live with me.”

Christ, what was he doing? Every word that left his mouth sounded like pure and total insanity, even to him. And even more insane were the thoughts running through his head. He was actually contemplating how to take her with him if she refused, the orders he’d give his team if he needed their help in subduing her.

Jesus. He was seriously considering abducting his own kid.

Cate spoke again, sounding as panicked as he felt. “I can’t do that. I already have a home. And friends. And my grandfather...” Anxiety flooded her blue eyes. “I love my grandfather. He’s a good person, no matter what he might have done in the past, and he loves me. I can’t just leave him.”

Morgan’s pulse kicked up a notch. “But he’s not a good person, Cate. There’s so much you don’t know, but that’s the one thing I
can
tell you. Your grandfather is a very dangerous man. He’s not who you—”

“I don’t believe you,” she interrupted angrily.

When several people turned to stare at them, Cate took a deep breath and quickly lowered her voice.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know if you’re my father, for Pete’s sake. Yeah, we have the same eyes, but that doesn’t mean anything. Shouldn’t we do a DNA test or something? To prove it?”

“We can if you want. You can give Bailey a hair sample when you meet with her again, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Then do it. But until I know for sure, I’m not going to see you again.”

His heart stopped. “Cate—”

“I have to go. I’m sorry, but I can’t...I can’t be here anymore.” Her eyes conveyed nothing but panic again. “I’m glad we met, I really am, but this is too much to absorb right now. I have to go.”

“Cate—”

“Tell Bailey I’m coming downstairs. I’ll meet her in the café in five minutes.”

And then she was walking away.

No,
running
away. She practically sprinted to the elevator, keeping her back to him as she waited for the car.

He could have gone after her, but he didn’t want to draw any attention to them, and he certainly didn’t want to pressure her, so he stayed put.

When she disappeared into the elevator a moment later, a wave of despair washed over him, so powerful his entire body felt weak and wobbly. He felt devastated. Destroyed.

She was gone.

He’d met his daughter, but she was gone now.

And he got the heart-wrenching feeling that he would never see her again.

•   •   •

He was probably being paranoid.

Nik was fully aware of that as he made his way down the narrow hallway toward Gabriel’s bedroom. He wasn’t worried about surprising Joséphine and Tristan Traver; both were at the Durand estate at the moment, the former bustling around in the kitchen while the latter changed all the locks in the servants’ wing. Nik had made sure to occupy the boy’s parents in order to break into their home undetected.

And yes, it was most likely paranoia driving this little fishing expedition of his, but at the same time, he wasn’t comfortable with all the time young Gabriel was spending with Ariana.

You mean Cate.

Nik froze in the middle of the corridor, suddenly disoriented. Right. Cate. Of course he’d meant Cate.

But sometimes...sometimes he confused the two. Maybe if the girl didn’t look so much like her mother, he wouldn’t mix them up in his mind as often as he did. They had the same dark blond hair, the same heart-shaped face. Even their voices were identical. Lord, when Cate spoke...it was like hearing Ariana talk to him.

And now that Catarina was getting older, now that her body had taken a womanly form...

Nik took a deep breath, forcing the inappropriate thoughts out of his head. No. Catarina was a child. Ariana was the woman he loved, and Cate was her daughter. If circumstances had been different, Cate would have been his daughter too, and he’d vowed a long time ago to love and protect her as if she was.