Renegade (Elite Ops 5) (9 page)

And that still wasn't enough to dim her interest.

Or her arousal.

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Chapter 4

"Oh, my God!" Deirdre's voice was horrified, her expression slackening into lines of complete disbelief as Mikayla walked into the shop early the next morning.

She had timed her arrival to coincide with Deirdre's and to ensure she could take

care of customers while Mikayla hid for the day.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Mikayla assured her assistant.

Mikayla knew her face looked damned bad. The bruise spread across her cheek to

her jaw and then to the side of her lip. Her lower lip was split and, though not grotesquely swollen, incredibly uncomfortable.

"It's not as bad as it looks?" Deirdre's eyes were wide, her hands moving from her silk-clad hips as she rushed across the plush carpet to Mikayla.

"Mikayla, what in the world happened to you?" Her friend's green eyes, the color of a summer leaf, filled with threatening tears as her hands lifted to Mikayla's shoulders and turned her more fully to the light. "My God. Who hit you? Do I need to start collecting bail for your brothers?"

"They don't know, and you're not going to tell them." Mikayla suppressed a shiver; she was doing everything she could to keep her family from finding out.

"You think you can keep this from them?" Deirdre propped her hands on her hips again, the cream silk of her skirt stretching over her hips as her shoulders straightened beneath the light blue sleeveless blouse she wore.

"I'd better keep it from them," Mikayla muttered. "They'll make my life hell otherwise."

"So what happened?" Deirdre demanded again, following Mikayla as she gave a brief shake of her head and moved to her office at the back of the shop.

"I was attacked in the parking lot of the club," she told the other woman as they entered her office. "Maybe it was a mugger."

"And maybe it was a Nelson fanatic," Deirdre snapped, anger filling her tone now. "That's who it was, wasn't it?"

"I really don't know, Deirdre." Mikayla plopped her purse on the less-than-tidy desk and sat down gingerly in the softly padded chair behind it.

"What else is wrong?" Deirdre would have to notice the careful way Mikayla took her seat.

It never failed. Her family and friends were like overprotective bears at times.

"Look, I was just knocked around a little bit," Mikayla assured Deirdre. "A white knight showed up, rescued me, and delivered me home safe and sound."

And that was enough to distract Deirdre.

"White knight?" Deirdre plopped her rear on the corner of Mikayla's desk, the open door giving her clear sight of the front door, and gave Mikayla a demanding look.

"Give deets, girlfriend."

Mikayla laughed. "Deets, huh? What makes you think there are any details?"

Details such as height, hair, eyes, pure male sex appeal. Oh, Mikayla had deets.

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"Well, duh." Deirdre laughed. " 'White knight' is the key word here. Tell me all about him."

Mikayla's lips parted as the light tinkle of the bell at the door sounded. She started to laugh at the pout that formed on Deirdre's lips, until she saw a look of complete awe fill her face.

Mikayla leaned forward tentatively and restrained a sigh at the sight of the man

walking across the carpet. In black leather pants, biker boots, and a T-shirt that stretched across his hard, broad chest, Nik Steele walked into the dress shop.

"The white knight," she murmured in amusement as Deirdre seemed locked in amazement.

"Mikayla?" He stepped into the office, looking between her and Deirdre.

Ice blue eyes. Mikayla wondered if there was actually any emotion behind that

gaze. The night before, she hadn't seen the ice there, the hard, almost cynical light; instead, she had felt something, sensed it, in the way he acted, the tone of his voice.

But she remembered what he had said. He'd once been a father. Losing a child

would destroy the soul, she thought. But would it leave anything for anyone else?

"Can I help you, Mr. Steele?" Leaning back, she let her gaze rove over that gorgeous hard body just one more time.

His lips quirked as though he was well aware of his effect on her and Deirdre as

well. It would be hard to miss it; Deirdre was staring at him as though he were a sweet and she was dying for a sugar rush.

"Yes, ma'am, you can." A flicker of warmth glimmered in his icy eyes. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for steaks tonight? I thought I'd throw a few on the grill. Break out a couple of bottles of beer."

"If she's not interested, then I am." Deirdre suddenly found her voice. "She's not real smart sometimes, ya know." There was a wealth of amusement in Deirdre's

expression as Mikayla frowned at her.

"She appears extremely intelligent to me," he drawled, that sexy grin still tugging at his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.

The flesh between her thighs heated, grew damp. That rat-a-tat-tat of her heart

made her breathless. He had an effect on her that no other man ever had.

"Yes, she's extremely intelligent," Mikayla informed him as though participating in the conversation.

"I don't know." Deirdre leaned her hand against the desk and glanced back at Mikayla. "Look at her face. See, she knows better than to be in dark places by herself. I bet that was where you found her, huh?"

"It was indeed." Nik's gaze sliced back to her. "Parked in the darkest area as she played punching bag for some asshole. She hasn't told me why yet."

Deirdre's gaze swung back to Mikayla in amazement. "He doesn't know?" She switched back to Nik. "You don't know?"

"I didn't say I haven't been checking into it."

He knew.

Mikayla swallowed tightly before drawing in a deep breath. At least, as deep as

sore ribs allowed.

"Figure anything out yet?" she asked.

"A few things," he answered. "Enough to know why you were attacked last 45

night."

"You work fast." A sense of disappointment filled her. She couldn't tell if he believed her or not.

"So who do you believe?" Deirdre voiced the question Mikayla was only

thinking.

Nik stared back at Deirdre as though in surprise. "I tend to believe the punching bag. They rarely get used without reason."

Mikayla's heart melted. It was totally illogical, but he wasn't laughing at her, and he wasn't questioning her honesty.

"There you are, a smart man." Deirdre waved her hand toward Nik as she stared back at Mikayla, satisfaction filling her gaze. "Now, if you don't show up for that steak, then I'm gonna."

Deirdre bounced from the desk at the sound of the bell tinkling once again. Nik

straightened and stepped into the office. Deirdre got as far as the doorway and froze and Mikayla could have sworn she whimpered.

Mikayla knew who it was. Deirdre turned to Mikayla, her expression filled with

pity. "Can I have the day off?" she asked as Mikayla's father and brothers stepped into the store.

Dread filled Mikayla. "Can I?"

Nik was standing on the back deck of the rented house, the grill heating, steaks

lying on the small grill ledge, as he heard the gate between the two properties squeak as it opened.

He restrained a grin.

He'd left that shop that morning just after giving her father the details of the night before. First, Nik had been required to show ID and subject himself to an in-depth interrogation on why he was there and how long he was staying and even provide

references. They were references Nik had no doubt Mr. Martin would call.

The man was extremely protective of his only daughter, and the three young men

with him had been almost as intense. There was no doubt Mikayla was well cherished by her family.

She had humored them, though there had been desperation in her gaze as she

looked at Nik. A plea to rescue her as her family descended upon her.

He'd been amused, he had to admit. A part of that amusement had been

overshadowed by grief, though. He would have been just as protective of his own

daughter. Seeing Ramsey Martin's fear and love for his child had sent a shaft of guilt tearing through Nik.

What would he do had he ever learned a man was intending to use his child as

Nik was intending to use Ramsey Martin's child?

He'd kill him.

That was an easy question to ask.

But Mikayla wasn't a child any longer. She was a grown woman, one with an

innocent appeal that drove him insane.

He couldn't equate Mikayla with a child, his or any others. He was man enough to

see the woman in her, and to be aroused by her.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to break free." He didn't turn as he sensed her moving toward the deck.

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"I completely blame you for the entire debacle that my day has been." The accusation in her voice had a grin tugging at his lips. There was no true heat, more exasperation and irritation than anything.

"That's why I have your beer extra cold." He turned to her, and he swore his cock surged harder, faster, than it had the night before.

Son of a bitch. Look at her. That fall of soft wheat blond hair over one side of her face as those amethyst eyes watched him with narrowed intent.

That look sliced right through him. Like fire snaking through his body. He felt

sweat begin to dot his shoulders, felt his balls tighten painfully.

Hell, he wanted to taste her so damned bad he could barely stand it. The need for

it was a hunger raging through him with a force that almost left him shaking.

He'd never wanted anything like he wanted this woman right now.

"How do you like your steak?" He had to turn from her. If he didn't turn away from her, then he was going to lift her up on the long wooden table, stroke that flimsy dress up her thighs, and peel it from her plump breasts.

"Medium whatever," she answered as she stepped up to the deck. "I hope you have salad and a potato to go with that. You owe me after the hell I went through today.

Do you know they made me go to the hospital? Do you know what hospitals are like? I hate those damned places."

He turned back, just for a second, he told himself. He was just going to look at her for another second.

She stood at the top of the steps, her hip cocked, one hand resting against it as her hair fell around her shoulders like a sunlit cape.

She was so damned short. And so fucking petite he was almost scared to touch

her. Hell, she'd be the death of him. He was going to expire from sexual hunger before the night was over.

"Salad and potato are waiting inside," he promised her.

He'd done his homework. He knew how she liked her steak before he'd even

asked her. He knew she preferred Caesar salad and baked potatoes. She liked ranch

dressing on her salad, butter and ranch on her potato. She preferred rolls with honey and liked lemon with her sweet tea.

She wore dresses, rarely wore jeans, and she liked silk and French lace beneath

her clothing.

He was dying to get under her dress.

"Where's that beer?" The irritation in her voice only made him harder. Made him feel challenged.

"Here you go, pretty girl." Pulling open the door to the minirefrigerator beneath the grill, he opened the beer, then turned and handed it to her.

Her fingers glanced his as she took it and he swore his body tightened further. His cock was going to explode at this rate.

Nik swore he could smell the sweet, soft aroma of arousal reaching out to him, or

perhaps it was just the innocent curiosity in her gaze and his own imagination.

"God, they made me crazy." She plopped down on the seat at the picnic table, crossed one slender leg over her knee. Her strappy soft blue sandals were an attractive contrast to the white and pale yellow sundress that barely met her knees.

The fluttery dress was pretty as hell, feminine and soft, tempting. It made a man

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want to slide it right off her body.

"They love you." Nik tossed the steaks on the grill, hoping to distract himself before he ended up trying to seduce her right there on the back deck.

"To death." She gave a charming little puff of air behind him. "Mom showed up just after you left. She cried when I didn't want to go to the hospital. Then she cried some more when she got a good look at my face. Do you have any idea how hard it was to

escape them? Do you know Dad is threatening to move my brothers in with me? Can you imagine how irritating my brothers are?"

"They seemed concerned." He could see her killing them in three days flat. The three of them had postured, growled, and frowned at him the entire time he had been at the shop.

"They seemed mentally retarded." That little puff of air again.

He chuckled at the accusation.

"I swear I think Dad must have dropped them on their heads when they were

babies. Those three have the combined IQ of a brick."

Mixed with the irritation was affection. She loved her brothers, but Nik could

understand why they made her crazy. Once upon a time, he had had a sister himself. One he had hovered over and protected.

"You managed to hold them off, though?" Damn, he hoped she had, because he had every intention of seducing the hell out of her. That would be rather hard to do if she had three brothers living with her.

"I threatened to cook for them." He caught her shrug from the corner of his eye.

"You can't cook?"

"Not as far as they know." She tipped the beer to her lips, took a long, refreshing drink, and he almost came in his jeans. He could only imagine how sexy those pretty lips would look on his body. On his cock.

That told him a lot, though. She protected herself against the overprotection of her family. She had deliberately allowed her brothers, men who enjoyed their food, to think she couldn't cook.

He tested the steaks, judged their doneness, then pulled them from the grill and