Unearthed Treasure (2 page)

Chelsea sighed but nodded. He knew her so well, better than anyone else alive.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling her close. Chelsea rested her head on his shoulder, soaking up the support he offered her unconditionally. “Something’s bugging you, what is it?”

She pressed her lips together at first, not wanting to speak the words aloud, to admit the growing knot of tension and feelings in the base of her stomach. But this was David. For more than a year now she’d had no one else to turn to, no one she had been able to rely on, speak to with any semblance of honesty or just be with. She could trust him with everything and anything. Most important of all, she’d come to love this man, to need him on every level and crave his presence more than an addict requires their drug of choice.

She loved him. Deeply.

Chelsea needed to be honest with him, no matter how ugly
that
might turn out to be.

“I’ve enjoyed this,” she started hesitantly. The words grew inside her until they flowed out of her, a wound finally lanced. “I love thinking on my feet, outsmarting the bad guys, feeding information back to the Agency and watching this smugglers network slowly crumble. I won’t lie, it’s been bloody hard in a number of places, but I’ve loved having you as my partner. Despite our struggles sometimes, we work magnificently together. I’m worried when this is said and done they’ll split us up. Or assign us to some dumbass, boring analyst job, or stupid bodyguarding protective duty. I couldn’t handle that. Or being separated from you.”

“I’d leave the Agency rather than leave you,” David said calmly. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’s plenty more to do here, and you know what the world is like, there will always be a need for people like us. One thing I can guarantee, that I can promise you without a doubt. As long as you want it, we will be together. I don’t ever want to be apart from you, either. You’re the hidden treasure I found on this mission, not the jewels we’ve helped recover, not the stolen artworks or gold bullion bars. You.”

They’d entered a quiet alley behind a row of boutique stores. Chelsea paused, her gaze searching David’s. She reached out a hand and brushed his soft hair behind his ear. Now she could peer into his speaking, dark eyes.

“You mean that?” she whispered. “Because if you’re talking pretty or just trying to get into my knickers I will gut you like a fish. That’s a promise. Don’t mess with me, Dave.”

“Damn you have the most beautiful eyes.” He chuckled. “They sparkle like sapphires when you’re mad, or passionate. I’ve never met anyone with deeper blue eyes than you.”

Chelsea raised an eyebrow, knowing in her heart he wouldn’t tease her like this, waxing lyrical about her damn eyes, if he didn’t love her as much as she had come to love him. Still. She needed the words.

“I love you. I adore you. I’d break a million more laws and flee this country should it be necessary to keep you. And you know how attached to this soil I am.”

Chelsea indeed knew David well enough by now to know he meant those words. She cupped his jaw, loving the silky feel of his long hair as it caressed her skin. Tilting her head up, she pressed her body against his, pushing him back into the brick wall of the alley, and kissed him passionately.

They’d shared a few simple kisses, mostly when keeping up the pretence of being lovers. This intimacy blew all the others out of the water. His lips were soft, so tender they seemed sinful to her. He opened his mouth and she slipped her tongue inside, relishing the taste of him.

His mouth was hot, dark and moist. He stroked his tongue over hers. Chelsea moaned, her pussy throbbing with need. She felt David’s arms close around her hips, angling her so his thigh thrust between her legs. She rode him now, eagerly seeking more friction as pleasure shot through her body.

Their kiss deepened as he moved his hands over her clothing. He sought her secret sweet spots, tenderly touching where he could reach. She lifted her hand to touch the edge of his jaw, then lightly stroked his skin. She felt him tremble and it sent a feeling of power over her.

Chelsea sprang away as a car turned down the alley, interrupting them.

She cast a look at David. His eyes had darkened. His lips were full and red from their passion. She lifted a finger to her own lips, finding them damp and puffy from the intensity of their kiss. Her breaths came fast and her need for him blossomed—a desperate craving raced through her. She needed to touch and taste all of him, to feel David’s thick cock as it thrust inside her every opening.

They both pressed against the side of the alley to allow the car to pass them. Afterwards, they glanced at one another. Chelsea grinned. They both acted like a pair of teenagers caught necking behind the proverbial shed.

“So I guess we should call Phillipe, ask him what the hell was going on. I can’t think of why he let Thaddeus loose like that,” she said.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” David admitted. “But they’re all conjecture. I agree we should—”

Chelsea’s phone sounded, the upbeat tone interrupting his words. Frowning, she dipped a hand into her work satchel and pulled it out. She raised an eyebrow at David.

“McIlroy,” she said, the single word not needing any further explanation. Opening the phone, she tilted it. David bent his head so he could also hear the man’s responses while she carried on the conversation.

She spoke into the receiver in the firm, clipped tone she reserved for their boss when she figured they were going to get yelled at. It occurred far more often than she’d ever have thought possible. “Hello?”

“Atchison. Fucking hell! You’re going to age me a decade before you and Greer wrap up this mission. Why am I hearing initial reports about a rocket launcher decimating the front pillars of the National Gallery down there? Have you and Greer no sense of discretion? Decorum? I should let the London branch have you both with my blessing, or get them to forcibly drag you both back up here to mountain goat-herding duties. What the hell is going on down there?”

“The rocket launcher wasn’t us,” she replied when McIlroy paused for breath. “Phillipe let Thaddeus loose, and… Well, the man’s been boasting of his connections and probably felt he had a point to prove.”

“What made them go early?” McIlroy questioned, sounding like he already had begun to calm down.

“We’re not sure yet. We’ve only just escaped ourselves. There were…a few complications.”

“Like what?”

“A woman saw David burying some of the evidence we’ve collected. Nothing big, small stuff, but she apparently is dating, or connected somehow with, Saul Haslen—he’s Agency here in London. We weren’t aware of it until just now. He’s been sniffing around, and between them they’ve made some waves. We’re not certain how it all ties together yet, but that’s what we were going to work on once we reconnect with Phillipe.”

“Sounds like it’s getting messy.”

David rolled his eyes at her.

“It’s nothing we can’t handle, Sir.” His soft brogue made the words sound particularly respectful.

Truly, over the last year and a half they’d meshed together perfectly as a team, playing off each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Without conscious thought, Chelsea had outlined the bad news, explaining the reality of the situation in her blunt, straightforward manner. Now David could smooth their path over and sweet-talk their boss into doing things the way they wanted to.

It wasn’t a guaranteed method of success, but had worked well for them in the past. With luck, now would be no different.

Chelsea blew a silent kiss to David, relieved she could always rely on him.

“The London office is going to be annoyed we’ve all but stepped on their feet here,” McIlroy warned them.

“The smuggling has always been outside their jurisdiction,” David pointed out smoothly. “Until Phillipe needed to expand his crew and set their sights on someplace as impenetrable as the National Gallery, their actions would have never been more than a blip of minor curiosity to London. Remind them of that. And also point out the only reason they’re getting interested is one of their own, Haslen, is acting macho and protective of his woman. This is our case—we’ve put almost two years of our life into it. Neither of us will appreciate having it stolen from us at this late stage.”

“And we’re well established here,” Chelsea added. “We’re on some rocky ground, sure, but we’re in. No one else would be given admittance if we’re pulled now. The crew would just make do.”

“I’ll try to hold them off,” McIlroy said, though he clearly wasn’t thrilled with the idea. “When can you report back? I’m sure my phone will be ringing nonstop as soon as others are made aware of what’s happening here. I’ll need something more than the promise of autonomy we usually get.”

“Get London to give us space to do our job,” David said in a soothing tone. “We’ll reconnect with the crew, act all outraged and get some answers. We were supposed to have the primary target by now so we can’t be in the dark much longer.”

“Watch your arses,” McIlroy grunted.

Chelsea threw a laughing glance at David. Heat bloomed between them. There had been a connection growing steadily over the last few months as they’d both toed closer to the line between flirting and something deeper. Having only one another to rely on had forged an unbreakable bond. Sometimes she felt David was the only person who knew her, who understood her actions and could second-guess her thoughts.

With David in her life, it had changed only for the better. She hated the thought that they might be separated. Knowing now that he feared that as much as her helped ease her concern. Attraction flared between them, addictively potent. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—pretend anymore that she didn’t want him, that he didn’t make her pussy wet every time he stared at her with his dark eyes.

She could no longer pretend she didn’t notice the hungry way he watched her, or that she didn’t feel the exact same way.

“We’ll be fine,” Chelsea said into the phone, though her words weren’t only for McIlroy. “We’ll be in touch when we have the details for Phase Two.”

McIlroy hung up. She closed the phone then replaced it in her satchel.

“What now?” she asked. Her gaze rested on David, asking him more than how they would proceed with their mission from there.

David reached out one pale hand. He lightly caressed her curls, stroking her with a tenderness that touched her very soul.

“Are you sure you want to be with me to confront them?” His voice was husky. She wondered what he was thinking—if it was even half as naughtily sexy as she imagined. “If they’ve made us…not necessarily as agents, but even just as not truly part of their cause then…well…it would kill me if they hurt you. If they know exactly how much I love you they could use that knowledge to disastrous effect.”

She tilted her head to the side, enjoying the way he brought a hand up to cup her face. “I could say the same thing to you,” she replied. “If they threatened you, hurt you because I held out on them, I’d never forgive myself. I’d tell them whatever they wanted to know, betray everything we both believe in. I couldn’t sit by and let you be harmed. This is a far more dangerous game we’re playing now.”

“I’d never let it get that far,” he promised solemnly. “We’re both so stubborn, I’m sure we could get out of any scrape we fall into. But that doesn’t mean I like the thought of you walking into what could very well be a trap.”

She grinned.

“You think I’d let you walk into that meeting without me to guard your ass?” she shook her head. “We’re well matched when it comes to independence and pig-headedness. There’s no chance in hell you’re going in there alone. I’m fond of your ass, and other more intriguing parts of that well-honed body of yours. I’m coming with you, end of story.”

“I treasure you,” he said huskily.

And I, you,
she was about to say, but his face loomed over hers for a split second before they kissed once again. Hungrily she devoured him. They roamed their hands over one another. Chelsea ached to discover as much of him as possible. It seemed that David sought her secrets just as eagerly. She groaned, there was only so much they could do with their clothes on. The sound of a car horn had them both instantly whirling apart, standing shoulder to shoulder as they faced off against the enemy.

They were faced with a cherry red, sporty little hatchback, driven by a young woman. She gesticulated with her hands for them to move out of the way.

Chelsea snickered, amused at how they could both be so on edge, but still find their attraction so overwhelming they could lose all sense of time and space. She thought she heard the driver shout “Get a room!” but with the window closed she couldn’t be certain.

“You’re intoxicating,” Chelsea chided David as they continued down the alley towards their parked car. “I’m going to get shot in the back because my entire focus revolves around you and tasting you whenever you so much as look at me.”

“For weeks now I’ve done nothing but fantasise about thrusting deeply into your every orifice,” David replied. “It’s been…difficult, shall we say.”

“Difficult?” She shot him a glance, struggling not to laugh at his understatement. “I wish we had time, but the longer we wait, the worse it will look for us.”

David nodded as they came up to the car.

“Agreed. But later?”

“Later,” she promised, the word a vow, an oath.

“Make the call,” he said as he unlocked the doors.

She slid into the passenger seat. Chelsea placed her satchel at her feet and snapped on her seatbelt. After pulling her phone out, she dialled Kent Phillipe’s number. David sat next to her and started the car. As he pulled away, she organised her thoughts, tried to block the intimate awareness of the man so close to her in the confines of the car.

Her skin tingled. Her pussy throbbed with hunger. But she pushed all that away, knowing she needed to hit exactly the right note with the mid-level smuggler.

Chelsea knew she needed to sound outraged, offended and hurt, but not overdo it and seem too dramatic. She needed to prove she could keep a cool head when things went wrong. Similarly she knew they had to lay enough blame at Phillipe’s door and act the part of wronged innocents, but still prove that they were willing to complete the mission and continue onto whatever Phase Two happened to be.