Red Hot BOX SET: Complete Series 1-4: A Patrick & Steeves Suspense (11 page)

M
oonlight lent a ghostly sheen
to the desert as she sped west. Her mind raced with the engine. Jack left behind. Three men dead or dying down the shaft. The poor bastard Jack’s men had beaten to death. No question - they were coming after Dal and they were coming hard. She ran through a mental checklist of people she could reach out to for help.

She’d met Jack’s superior the first morning, a woman named Janis, but now she wasn’t sure if she could trust anyone from the Embassy. What if she was in on it? She didn’t have any colleagues yet that she could trust. Her father would find a way to help her, but calling him might put him in danger - if he wasn’t already. She ticked through her list of army buddies but all were away on active duty. She sighed and slanted a look at her passenger.

Dal leaned against the seat, eyes focused out of the window, tapping the empty phone case against his knee.

“Worried about Kris?”

He shrugged. “He’s safe right now - picking us up is going to put him in danger. I should have told him to sail back up the coast.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Same reason we stayed off the highway last night I guess - I don’t think we’ll make it up driving.”

He was right about them needing an alternate way out. She took a deep breath. At this point, he had a right to know. “I don’t have a plan,” she said. “Jack was my only contact at the Embassy.”

“What?” He swiveled toward her. “How can that be?”

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and swallowed. “Yesterday was my first day.”

“First day… in the field?”

“First day on the job,” she mumbled, suddenly wishing she’d stayed quiet.

He barked out a laugh. “Oh, fuck. I knew something didn’t feel right.”

“Hey, I was doing the best I could.”

“You were great” - he reached over to touch her arm - “but my guts told me something didn’t line up.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Plus, it’s pretty clear you’re not desk jockey material. No ordinary admin person thrown into the last twenty-four hours could have handled it the way that you have. You’ve got a story - care to tell it?”

She wet her lips and swallowed again. “Pass me something to drink?” He dug through her pack and passed her a bottle of water. She took a long pull and glanced over at him. “Okay, you’ve earned it I guess.”

He relaxed back in his seat and reached for the water. “Go on. Whatever you tell me, I’ll take to my grave.”

“Hopefully not in the next few hours.” She pursed her lips. Where to start? She would tell him enough, but not all of it. “I was in the army. Special Ops.” She sensed him watching her, but he held his tongue. “I did a very difficult tour in Afghanistan. When I came back state-side - when they sent me back state-side - I needed to make a change.”

“Hence the job at the Embassy.”

“Yes,” she said, glancing over at him. “Incidentally, you’re not all you seem either. Not many pin-up boys use ‘hence’ in everyday conversation.”

“Pin-up boy,” he chuckled. “That’s Mr. November to you and I didn’t know we were having an everyday conversation.”

She grinned. She liked him. He was smart and funny and … and in danger of being killed if she didn’t focus on her job. “Fair enough. My father and Jack —”

“I know, have been best friends since dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

“Something like that,” she rushed on, “my father called in a favor and Jack gave me a job.” Talking about herself was never easy. It opened her up to questions she didn’t always have answers to. It made her feel vulnerable. And feeling vulnerable made her squirm in all the wrong ways.

“That’s it?” He quirked a brow in her direction.

She shrugged. “Just in case you were wondering how a desk jockey like me knew how to handle a gun.”

“Now I don’t have to wonder.”

“No more questions then.” She reached out for the water and he passed it back to her. She tipped the bottle and drained what was left.

“Just one. You don’t have to answer. Whatever happened in Afghanistan left a mark.”

“That’s not a question. Also, a bit of a no-brainer if they made me return state-side.”

“I noticed you doing a breathing technique I’m familiar with —”

Damn he was observant. She let her gaze slide out the window, across the eerily-lit desert landscape, and fought the flood of memories of nights just like this one in the Afghanistan desert. She drew a breath between clenched teeth… and turned to meet his eyes. His hand reached for her shoulder. There was something about him. Even though it was a hard conversation, being here with him felt easy. Like being with Trevor. She sucked in another breath. “A lot of shit hit the fan over there. Can we leave it there for now?”

He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re the boss.”

Her breathing returned to normal, she chased the images out of her mind, the desert rolled out before them and they put more distance between themselves and the foothills. “We’re making good time.”

“I want you to know something.”

So they weren’t done with this conversation? She bit her tongue and refrained from rolling her eyes. “If you must.”

“I must. This is going to sound crazy, but … in spite of the insanity of the last twenty-four hours, in spite of the fact that I still might not make it home alive …”

“Yes?”

“Well, to say I’m having a good time would be a lie, but I am happy to be going through this with you —”

“Aw, shucks, thanks.”

“Be serious for a minute, Emily. I’m sorry this has put you in danger, but I feel comfortable with you. I feel like you get me.”

“How could I get you? I don’t even know you.” She bit her lip and tried hard not to grin. She felt exactly the same way and it was absolutely the craziest thing ever. She knew almost nothing about him and he knew even less about her, and yet … And yet, there was something that fit.

“You know what I mean. This conversation counts as the most intimate thing I’ve done in months.”

She nodded and turned to face him, eyes misty. “I know what you mean.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “No more questions,” he said. He let her off the hook, but left his hand on her shoulder. The weight of it, the warmth of it, was life-affirming. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

D
al shifted in his seat
, but let his hand rest on Emily’s shoulder. It felt good to physically connect with someone in a meaningful way. Watching her open up had been a revelation. It didn’t take a genius to see that she didn’t trust easily - her tight face and controlled body movements told that tale. Yet somehow, even in the midst of this nightmare, she’d chosen to trust him.

She said he deserved to know, but he didn’t. Not really. It was her life and he didn’t have a right to any of it. He knew, because lately - in spite of the media glare and attention - he lived his life the same damn way. Autonomous and without regrets. It was easier than the guilt of having someone else try to share his burden.

When he’d first been off work, he’d tried to fill the void with women. Not that it helped. It provided temporary respite, nothing more. Even with his body fully engaged, his mind still raged like a drunken squirrel. After sending the women home, he’d feel emptier than before. At least he had fuck buddies, Kris told him. Not everyone was lucky enough to have sex with no strings. Funny, it had never made him feel lucky.

He stole a look in Emily’s direction. She’d trusted him with part of her life and he was grateful. More than that, it made him want to open up to her.

Slowing on the highway, she pointed out the mile marker. “This turn should take us to the pier.”

“Good eye,” he said, checking the clock on the dash. Forty-five minutes since he’d called Kris. They’d made good time. As the SUV bumped over the rugged road toward the ocean, he dug in her pack and fished out the last two tiny bottles of tequila.

After half a mile, she stopped the SUV at the edge of the pier and turned off the engine. “What’s the signal?”

“Just flash the lights.” He leaned forward, peering into the darkness.

She turned the lights on, three long flashes, and they waited. Nothing. The moon was fading in the west sky and they stared into the dark void that was the Pacific.

“Try again,” he said. They were early but they should be able to see the running lights on the boat.

She flashed the lights again, waited, then flashed them a third time. To the north, and about two miles out, a spotlight flashed back the same pattern. “Oh thank heavens.” She relaxed into her seat and exhaled a long sigh.

He held out a bottle to her.

She tilted her head, eyebrows raised.

“We made it,” he said. “Calls for a celebration.”

Her lips curved into a smile. She removed the cap and held the bottle up. “Cheers.” She took a drink and coughed. “Needs lime.”

“Buck up, cowgirl.” He downed half the bottle and slid over a few inches, putting his arm around her shoulder. She was so pretty. Such a relief to see her relaxing.

She gazed at him, a somber look in her eyes. “It’s too early to celebrate - it’s not over ‘til it’s over.”

“True enough, but once we’re on Kris’s boat, it won’t be long until we’re back in the U.S.” He put his hand over hers. “Thank you for taking a risk and opening up to me.”

She shrugged. “Life,” she said, but she held his gaze and tipped her chin when he leaned in.

He stared into her eyes, the electricity vibrant between them. Then he could hold back no longer. His lips pressed into hers, and a fire raged through him. She kissed him back and he held her more tightly. He wanted to feel the length of her body pressed against his, but he was afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe, knowing the smallest thing might break the spell.

Her lips parted. His tongue found the warmth of her mouth and twisted with hers. She reached her hand into his hair and moaned softly as his hand brushed her breast, finding the nipple already taut through her t-shirt. She gasped and leaned back.

“This is crazy.” She searched his eyes. “I… I mean, we … we’re supposed to have a professional connection.”

His laugh came from deep within. He hadn’t laughed this genuinely for months. “Are you saying we’re breaking some rule in the Embassy employee handbook?”

She slapped his arm, eyes twinkling. “I’m not saying anything like that. It’s just… what if they’re still coming for us?”

“Look, if they are, we might die tonight.” Her eyes widened and he was sorry he’d said it out loud, but the set of her mouth told him she’d already considered the possibility.

She let her hand trail down over his pecs, over his stomach, then grinned up at him. Damn, his heart might stop. Right here. Right now.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She sucked in a breath as he bent his lips to her neck, nibbling just below her ear. Her breath quickened. He pressed more insistently and her body both arched toward him and released. His hand dropped to her breast and rolled the nipple while moving his mouth along the tendon in her neck. She moaned and his cock stiffened in response. “Emily,” he groaned.

She pulled back and placed her hands on his chest. “Stop.”

He sat back and let her go. She pushed the door open, got out of the truck, straightened her t-shirt, and finger-combed her hair down over her neck.

But when she lifted her head and met his eyes, he knew he had her. What’s more, she knew, too.

E
mily kept
her eyes on the approaching boat while she waited with Dal at the end of the pier. She was reeling from their encounter in the truck and needed to get her thoughts in order. Not since Trevor had she responded to a man’s touch the way she had Dal’s. It was exhilarating, disconcerting. It simultaneously thrilled and terrified her. She peeked out of the corner of her eye to the man beside her. He was so tall, so … solid. Even though he’d turned up the heat during their kiss, he’d also respected her decision to stop, without a whiff of frustration. She didn’t feel he was humoring her or playing her so he could get more later. Despite her cynicism, she felt they’d had a real connection.

Dal stepped forward, flashlight trained on the pylons at the end of the pier. Kris navigated the boat alongside, and pulled back on the power while Emily jumped onto the back deck, Dal close behind her. Once he was sure they were on board, Kris turned the wheel hard starboard and headed back to the open sea.

Her father had always loved boats and Emily cast an appreciative eye over Kris’s. It was a thirty-five foot sailboat in pristine condition. Gleaming brass and wood accents testified to Kris’s love of the craft.

Kris turned to Dal. “What the hell is going on with you?”

Dal clapped him on the back. “We’ll fill you in.” He waved her closer. “I want you to meet Emily. She’s with the American Embassy.”

He nodded in her direction and swiveled his look back to Dal. “You’re dating up in the world,” he grinned.

“I wouldn’t call what we’re doing dating—”

“Dal was in an accident,” Emily interjected. “I was sent to bring him home.”

Kris let his gaze linger on her a second longer than was comfortable before taking a closer look at his friend. “You’re burnt,” he said. “I thought you were on mandatory leave.”

Red flared up Dal’s cheeks, visible even under the healing flash burn. “This happened down here.”

“Something to do with that burnt-out truck at the other pier I’m guessing. Can’t hold yourself back from being a hero.” An undercurrent of bitterness tainted Kris’s tone. Emily glanced over at Dal, who took a barely perceptible step backward.

“We’re in a bit of a mess, Kris,” Emily said quickly. “The truth is,” she hesitated until Dal nodded, “Dal is still in danger and we need to get state-side as fast as possible.” Over the next few minutes, she summarized their situation, careful about which details she revealed. “The cartel could still be looking for us,” she concluded.

Kris whistled. “That’s some story.”

Dal pushed his hand through his hair and shrugged. “I’m starving. Maybe I’ll fix us something to eat.”

“Lots of pasta, eggs, stuff for sandwiches if you want.”

“You must be hungry, too?” He turned toward Emily.

She nodded, stomach growling at the suggestion of food. “Starving.”

She watched him make his way down the ladder to the forward cabin. The moon had sunk below the horizon leaving behind a narrow band of light that teased the mountain tops to the east. Before her lay the open sea and safety. She took a deep breath and let some of the tension drain from her body. She’d been running on adrenalin for so many hours. Now that she was stopped, her limbs felt like jelly.

Below deck, Dal opened and closed cupboards and banged pots around. Emily settled on the aft deck and watched Kris navigate. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

“Easy cruise. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve been down this coast.” He checked the compass heading and set the auto-pilot. “Quiet night out here,” he said, by way of explanation. He let his gaze drop to her feet and travel slowly up her torso. She shifted and turned away.

“So … you’re in charge of our All American hero.” The right corner of his mouth twitched and there was something hard in his eyes.

“All American hero?” She didn’t like his tone.

His eyes narrowed. “You really don’t know.”

“Know what?”

A loud crash below deck interrupted them. She leapt from her spot. Kris stepped in front of the hatch, barring her path. He placed his finger to his lips. “Better to stay up here,” he whispered.

She body-checked him, using the element of surprise to her full advantage, and pushed past him down the ladder into the galley. “Dal, are you all right?”

Dal was spread eagle on the floor, his feet visible from the bottom of the stairway. She turned the corner into the small galley. Her breath caught in her throat. “Kris,” she yelled.