The Risqué Target (4 page)

He no longer believed in love. Not the-man-and-woman-shot-by-Cupid kind.

His mother was the only other woman he'd ever loved, and he was the one who killed her.

As a child, he was close to his mother, the only tender and loving person in his life. At the age of sixteen, after her death, he was left with a father who, as everyone knew, had affairs even when his mother was alive. He loathed his father for it, but he’d learned from him that faithfulness was impossible. So Tantum didn’t commit. No long relationships, no strings attached, and no room for cheating. He did what and who he wanted, without repercussions.

Tonight, with his frustration in overdrive and the whiskey coursing through his veins, he was in the mood to get laid. It'd been awhile, and he figured maybe that was why his rod came to life simply from looking at the woman's behind. He wanted to see her face, the elegant, stellar woman pretending to be a bad girl in her fuck-me heels, but something held him back. He simply couldn’t get up off the barstool and go check her out. He wasn't used to this strange, inhibited feeling. Not for years now.

With her back turned to him, the woman pulled a Bluetooth from her purse and placed it in her ear. He riffled through his pocket, connected his listening device to his own phone, and searched her frequency. He needed her to turn around. Had to read her lips to be sure he was tuned into her conversation.

Suddenly her hand came up. She pushed her fingers through her long, dark-blonde hair. He would have called it dirty blonde or dishwater blonde, but she was far too classy for that. Her head slowly started to turn in his direction.

He peered over his shoulder, anticipation creeping into him. Like a blundering idiot, he blinked. What he saw threw him for an inconceivable loop.

Fucking airport girl?

She looked different with her hair down. Also, at the café, she hadn’t been caked with layers of make-up. That natural look, fresh from the shower, the pure and innocent façade, was gone. Her blue-eye gaze slithered past him, but if she recognized him she certainly didn’t make any effort to show it.

She turned completely around. No overabundance of cleavage popped out from the slit running down the front of her chest. The taunt of her smooth flesh was just enough to intrigue him, her small breasts barely hidden by thin material. He could see their shape, though, and,
thump
, his cock did another jump in his pants.

“Hi, Melissa…”
He read from her lips, found the frequency and sat back on the stool.
Let's see what little miss airport girl has to say
….

****

The party was boring. Nala inquired of a few guests about Tantum Maddox, but no one seemed to know who he was. She decided to see if Gidget had gotten anywhere yet. “Hi, Melissa.” She used the code name to cue Gidget about the unsecure line. She didn’t trust any of the people in the room, for they all had their own little gadgets. Aware that some of them could tap into her Bluetooth, she used the code name to be safe. She could've used her phone, but she wanted her hands free. An agent rarely tied up her own hands. She might need them quickly.

“Hey, Becky,” Gidget replied, acknowledging Nala's code. “I've been wondering when you’d call me back.”

“I was running a little behind,” she responded.

“Are you at the party?”

“Yes, and so far it's been a bust,” Nala said, glancing around the room.

“So, I take it you haven't found your man yet?”

“Not yet, but when I do, I have a little surprise for his ass,” Nala said with a smirk.

She hadn’t been sure she could conceal her gun and its strap around her leg, but it worked. It was a tad higher than what she was accustomed to, but all that really mattered was that she could get to it if the need arose.

“I bet you do,” Gidget said. “And exactly what do you plan on doing when you find him?”

“Well, I'm thinking….” Nala paused mid-sentence. She sensed someone was looking at her. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck sprang up. She stood in full view of the room, protected, with her back against the wall. She did a quick scan. She hesitated at a man sitting at the bar with his back to her. Her stomach fluttered, but he wasn’t even turned toward her, and she continued on. She saw a few men gazing at her, but they weren't looking at her eyes. Recalling what she had on, she relaxed slightly.
Of course they’re staring at me,
she surmised.
I’m practically naked, and I look damn good.

“Becky, you okay?” Gidget asked.

“Yes. Now where was I? Oh, my man. You mean the one I can't get off my mind?”

“Yes, the dangerously sexy one.”

“Really, Gidge—”
Damn it!
What was wrong with her? That she couldn't find Tantum Maddox, or maybe it was the freaking kiss with the guy at the airport. “Melissa,” she corrected herself. “Sexy?” It didn’t matter if Tantum Maddox turned out to be the hottest guy on the planet. He was a killer, and killers had to pay.

“Okay, sexy, dangerous, whatever works for you. Just give it some time and be patient. I'm sure he'll show up soon. Until then, behave yourself and stay safe.”

“I'll behave, all right, but I've got something special between my legs for him. I'm going to do things to him he's never imagined. He's gonna feel everything, all the nasty, wicked things I have planned for him.”

“Fine, fine!” Gidget interrupted. “Calm down, my wild little kitty cat. You'd better be careful, ya know. He may very well take you over his knee and punish you.”

A cynical chuckle rumbled from her throat. “You know I can handle myself. Let him try. I enjoy a good fight.”

Three years was a long time to wait to meet the man who’d killed her partner. Nala’s patience had grown thin. She was in attack mode. She'd programmed it in from the moment she stepped on the plane to track the fucker down, and she’d double-checked it before she walked out of the hotel room. Tantum Maddox wasn’t going to see what hit him.

“Such a baaad girrrrl,” Gidget purred into the phone.

“I'm going to be a very, very bad girl,” Nala said, resolved to find him before she left Boston.

“Be vigilant, kitty cat,” Gidget warned.

“Always. Hey, but how's everything going with you? Any new photos you wanna send me?” Nala desperately needed to know what Tantum Maddox looked like. For all she knew, she could be standing right next to him and not even know it.

“Not the ones you want, but yes, I did send you one you may want to check out.”

Nala sighed. “Okay. I'll let you go then.”

“Call me later. Can’t wait to hear about your man.”

“You'll be the first to hear about him.” Nala tapped her Bluetooth off, tossed it in her purse, then took it back out. She tossed it in again, cursing the terrible twos. She pulled out her phone and checked the inbox. One text from Gidget:
Target: Hark Sullivan. Mission: introduction.
That was easy enough. All she needed to do was introduce herself to the target, Hark Sullivan. It was probably a set-up for something in the future. She’d had numerous introductions assigned to her in the past during other assignments.

Opening the attachment, she studied the picture of Hark Sullivan. Thanks to her OCD—or, as she liked to put it, awareness of her surroundings—she’d noticed him when she scanned the room. He was wearing a pale green suit, lighter-shade dress shirt, and his tie had ugly little diamonds dropping from the top. His hairline was badly receding, and what little hair he had left was a dull brown color. He was athletic but definitely not Nala's type. He had shifty eyes.

The party was winding down, but she spotted Hark Sullivan among the remaining guests. He stood at a cocktail table next to the bar. She swayed, letting her hips do the walking. Not making eye contact, she was about to pass him when she dropped her purse. Taking the bait, he leaned down and picked it up for her.

She drew her hand to her chest and giggled. ”Oh my! Thank you.” She flashed her well-trained flirty eyes his way.

“You're welcome.” His slippery gaze grazed her chest.

Sheer revulsion shimmied through her, but she blocked it out and kept her composure as she was trained to do.

“Hark Sullivan.” His hand came out to her with the introduction, and she intercepted it.

“Rebecca Downey.” She smiled and gulped down her disgust at the amount of time it took for his eyes to move from her breasts.

They continued to freely roam her. “Rebecca, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here in gadget-land?”

Pretty little thing? Who the hell says that?

“I was curious about the convention, but I got in late. I didn’t want to waste the night, so,” she said, flipping her hands out in the air like a game show hostess, “here I am!” She pushed her smile to the limit.

“Well, I'm glad you decided to come.”
Snap, snap
, not missing a glimpse of her body.

The introduction complete, Nala was ready to move on and get away from the sleaze bag. She glanced around the room. “Actually, I was supposed to meet a friend of mine here. Perhaps you know him?”

Taking a dainty sip of his drink, he leaned toward her. “I know many people. What's your friend's name?”

She wanted to flick him away like a pesky bug, but he might be of some help. “Tantum Maddox,” she said and held her breath.

“Hmm. I don’t believe I know him.” Something or someone caught his eye, and he stared straight ahead, unmoving, as if transfixed by the object. “Why don’t we ask Marcus Richards? He might know your friend.”

Nala followed Hark's eyes, and her stomach did a flip. It was the man from the airport. He was still as breathtaking as when he’d knocked her socks off with that kiss. She wondered how she could possibly have missed him earlier.

But she hadn't! He was the man sitting with his back to her at the bar, the one who’d interrupted her inspection of the room.

He was smiling at her, but it wasn’t a hi-how-are-you kind of smile or a nice-to-see-you-again smile. Instead, it was a dangerously sexy I-got-you smile. She wondered what it was that he thought he had.

There were macho men and studious men, and then there was the hardworking type, with the tool belt slung from the hips, body hard, tanned, and sweaty. But this man was in a category of his own, and he put all the others to shame. There wasn't too much of a cocky swagger in his walk, but precisely enough. The black suit, heather-gray dress shirt and fashionable tie looked amazing on him, just as the t-shirt and jeans had the first time she’d seen him. The man's body fit perfectly into anything.

Her composure dropped for a split second. She snatched it back and returned to him the best controlled smile she could muster. She wondered if this Marcus Richards, with his magical mouth, edible lips, and talented tongue, could know Tantum Maddox. He seemed to know many other things, like how to make her hotter than hell's waiting room with one glance of his eyes.

Tantum had listened in on her conversation and decided he was going to be the man Becky was seeking. Even if she had another man in mind, Tantum could replace him with no trouble. He had that much confidence in himself.

Arousal and curiosity flourished in him as she’d described to her friend what she intended to do to her man when she found him.
“Nasty, wicked things.”
He wondered.
Could she really be that fearless?

She'd wanted a good fight too. Surely, this wasn't the woman he’d met at the airport, blushing from his kisses, though he’d liked the naïve girl, too. This new brassiness was like a flower budding into a firecracker. He found it very interesting indeed.

Watching his sleek feline walk over toward Hark, Tantum's anger started to boil.
Could Hark Sullivan be her man?

Sullivan was an asshole. Tantum had met him during one of his NESA courses back in the day. He was beyond brutal to the trainees, particularly to Tantum. Not in a tough way. In a debasing, demeaning way.

A few years later, Sullivan worked a mortgage fraud case and the real estate agent he'd been assigned to was killed in a questionable car accident. Sent in by NESA to assist, Tantum took a different approach and used the weapon of seduction Lucinda had taught him. He went straight for the ringleader's girlfriend, a hard-faced babe named Jessica. Within weeks, he had her eating out of his hand. She had talked.

All was well until Sullivan approached him, ranting and raving like some nutcase about Tantum putting Jessica's life in jeopardy. Tantum got halfway through telling the guy he’d entered Jessica in the witness protection program when Sullivan broke in, shouting that Tantum was spoiled and uncaring about anyone but himself. Other agents started to surround them, but Tantum let him have his say, figuring Sullivan’s pride had been squashed by his own quick break in a case Sullivan had worked for months.