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Authors: Catherine Mann

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #General

Protector (14 page)

BOOK: Protector
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“Encounter? You mean
kiss
. Toe-curling
assault
on my senses by a lying creep. If we’re keeping score, then here.” She kicked his shin, hard, the toe of her sandals digging deep.

“What the hell was that for?” Maybe she’d rallied a little too much.

“I still owed you for sucking on my finger.”

“This car is wired for sound.”

Her eyes widened in horror. He almost laughed. Hell, he needed a laugh, or a drink, or to be anywhere but in the middle of this mess of his own making.

“Really?” she squeaked, her hands dropping to her lap.

“No, but my shin feels better now.” He smirked, knowing the grin would fire her, providing the extra push of energy to get through the rest of their ordeal.

“Can I believe anything you say?”

His smile faded. “Come on, Red.” He shoved her cavernous purse toward her. “Don’t forget the Black Hole of Calcutta.”

After they left the car, Chuck slid his computerized security key into the lock and pushed through the front door, a hand between Jolynn’s shoulder blades. Two layers of codes and deactivated alarms later, he guided her into the temporary office in the belly of the house. He scanned the room with a new perspective. He’d trusted military technology to keep him alive more than once. In fact, a tracking device
embedded in his shoulder had saved his ass when he’d been taken captive in Turkey. He rolled his shoulder against the phantom ache.

The stakes were higher now with Jolynn’s life on the line.

Gripping her by the elbow, Chuck led her past the wall sporting high-tech surveillance systems. An agent with the National Security Agency wearing a ball cap was parked behind one, and an Air Force Office of Special Investigations agent sat behind the other.

The ball cap– wearing agent— Mike Nuñez— spun his chair around to face them. “The prodigal son turns up. From the audio feed we got from your pals on the ship, it sounded as if things got a little hairy out there for you. Glad to see you’re okay, Tanaka. Well, other than some mud.”

Chuck looked down, only just realizing Jolynn’s entire torso was caked from when he’d tackled her. He glanced at his clothes, only soiled along the knees and forearms.

What if he’d hurt her and in the adrenaline frenzy she may not have felt the pain? “Jolynn?”

“I’m fine. And what’s this about audio from while we were at the water?” Her eyes crackled with renewed anger— and fear.

Now wasn’t the time to tell her how much of their conversations had been monitored by Berg back at the boat.

Nuñez pulled out a chair for her at the desk beside him. “Are you sure? Let me get you something to drink before we talk.”

“Talk?” Jolynn’s accusing gaze pinned him. “I don’t think so. I’m under no delusions that you sent this guy in to check out hairnet violations among our cooking staff. Even if I did know something, do you really think I would play any part in your attempts to nail my father? If so, you can all be my guests at a nice little river walk I’m planning for
revenge on pretty boy.” Jolynn thumped Chuck on the chest and promptly winced.

“Damn. You
are
hurt.” Chuck wrapped his fingers around her arm. “Where?”

“I’m fine.” She flinched away from his touch.

“Apparently not.”

She glared at him for a moment. “My ribs are a little sore from when you tackled me.”

Panic knotted his gut. Chuck whipped her shirt up. Nuñez cleared his throat and tugged at the bill of his ball cap. Chuck pierced him with a stare until he turned away.

Chuck steadied his breathing and tried not to think about his knuckles grazing her gently rounded softness. He wanted her. With a throbbing ache he wanted to reaffirm life in the most basic way. He shrugged through a kink in his neck. It didn’t help.

He studied the multihued purple, red, and yellow bruise spreading across her rib cage. Anger replaced frustrated passion.

Jolynn looked down at her bared skin, her eyes widening. The color left her face, and he caught her as her legs folded. He lowered her into a chair.

Her hand fluttered to her forehead. “I thought I was fine.”

“Adrenaline fools us all sometimes.” He knelt beside her and touched a hand to her ribs, prodding carefully. Her skin felt so soft, her ribs so fragile. “I think you should see a doctor. Who can we call? Hey? Nuñez?”

“Yeah? A doc. I’m on it.”

Nuñez could always be counted on. Always. As an undercover NSA agent, he had been instrumental in the undercover op that had got Chuck out of Turkey in the first place two years ago. He’d become involved with a woman from the region during the case. She’d been sent into witness
protection for a year before they got married. Nuñez had a few scores of his own to settle in bringing down the terrorist bastards pulling the strings.

The enormity of what he’d pulled Jolynn into threatened to swallow him whole. He didn’t have the luxury of doubts about his edge or mojo any longer. He’d brought her into this. His own personal mission for vengeance had to be sidelined in the interest of keeping Jolynn Taylor alive.

She brushed Chuck aside. “Forget about finding a doc. I’ll check in with the ship’s physician.”

He gripped his fingers around her upper arm. “The ship will have left by the time we get back.” That part was a lie, but hopefully she was too disoriented to pick up on details like the passage of time. “And even if it hadn’t, you need to stay here.”

“Are you arresting me for something?” Her cool eyes locked in on his hand.

“Of course not.”

“Then I’m out of here. I will catch up at the next port of call.” She jerked away and stalked toward the door— a door she wouldn’t be able to open even if she tried.

And even if she could pry the thing open? He had a fairly good idea of what waited for her beyond the secured exit.

He charged past an obviously curious Nuñez flattening his hand to the steel-enforced door just before Jolynn could try to twist the handle. “You need to be in protective custody until we have some answers. If you walk outside, you stand a good chance of being finished off by those guys in the truck back at the river.”

She spun to face him. “They’re after you, Chuck Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is. Why would they want to kill me?”

“To get to your father.” Chuck watched the pain stab
across her face and felt a moment’s remorse for inflicting it. But he needed to use whatever methods of persuasion possible to convince her to remain in protective custody until he sifted through the facts. “Do you really think your father’s going to be able to keep you safe this time? He can’t even leave his room. I know his ‘reach’ is far, but there’s no question his power is diminished now.”

Jolynn rubbed her forehead, her brow furrowed. Was she weakening? He’d hurt her again, but he didn’t have a choice.

He chose his next words with care, dealing the final blow. “Is it worth risking your life just to gain Daddy’s approval?”

Her lips thinned, and Chuck knew he’d won. But at what cost?

N
INE

 

Five minutes to go until her performance, Livia sipped her lukewarm lemon water, her standard drink to soothe her vocal cords prior to singing. Rex hadn’t left her side all afternoon, and the constant need to resist the attraction was beginning to exhaust her. Soon, though, he would be seated in the audience and she could lose herself in the music.

From the tiny hall that led onto the stage, she studied the clusters of people drinking at tables, a larger crowd than last night. But so far, she didn’t see any signs of Jolynn. She’d invited the woman at Rex’s request. He’d merely said that he and Chuck needed to keep her in sight.

Was she a criminal? Or in danger? Either of which put both Chuck and Rex in the line of fire.

The specter of the unknown chilled her. Chuck had become her friend over the past couple of years, and she didn’t want to see him hurt again. His recovery had been so difficult, he deserved to kick back. While she wasn’t privy to details, the mission must be dangerous.

And while she was worried for Chuck, Rex was far more than a friend. Her gut clenched and she blurted out, “Are you sure you’re safe?”

Rex’s serious eyes turned toward her slowly, narrowing. He dipped his head toward her. “I’m not sure at all. You should quit and go home.”

Leave him? Her stomach knotted tighter. “Then how will you explain your presence here? If you recall, you are here as my ‘boyfriend.’”

“I’m finishing out the cruise to console myself after you bailed on me.” He slid his hand up her spine, exposed by her backless dress. Inch by inch, he made his way upward until his fingers thrust in her hair. To anyone watching, they would look like lovers enjoying a close moment before she went onstage.

But no one was looking. Why did he have to confuse her so? She’d made the mistake before of believing in his kisses, in his touch, damn him.

Although two could play his game. And perhaps a little revenge might feel nice.

She leaned against him, batting her lashes as she stared up with her best “adoring” gaze. “One minute you want to spend time with me.” She skimmed her fingers up to caress his bristly cheek. “The next you want me to leave. You’re such a charmer.”

His nostrils flared with awareness, inciting a wicked urge within her. She leaned even closer until her breasts pressed against his rock-hard chest, but what a double-edged sword that turned out to be. Her nipples tightened and she felt an answer from his as his rigid arousal between them grew harder, larger, pressed against her stomach. A tingle started low between her legs.

He’d
always been attracted to her. That had never been in doubt. His heart just wasn’t following his libido.

Right now, with her body on fire from wanting him, she couldn’t recall why she hadn’t just jumped into bed with him and to hell with the consequences.

*  *  *

 

Jolynn trailed Chuck into their room at the bed-and-breakfast— aka safe house— wearier and warier than she could ever remember feeling. Why the hell did they have to share a room? He’d vowed the rest of the place was taken up with techno gear and that the room sported a bed and a sofa.

Fat lot of comfort that was as she faced a night alone with him. He cradled a laptop computer under one arm and tossed a bag onto the wrought iron bed. A limp beige spread was draped unevenly across the saggy mattress. No hospital corners or mint on the pillow here. And sure enough, a saggy brown sofa stretched across the wall opposite the bed.

Her defenses were thin, about ready to shatter. Pretending to study the wooden beams on the angled ceiling, she looked upward to blink back her tears. Someone wanted to get to her father through her. She could be executed simply because of her last name. The only person standing between her and a faceless evil was a man she didn’t know, couldn’t trust.

Chuck looked past Jolynn at the cap-wearing guy. An agent? “Could you send up a strong pot of coffee before you head out?”

“You bet. We’ll have some fresh clothes for you soon.” The agent adjusted his hat, looking like an everyday touristy Joe, as if he hadn’t spent the past hour grilling her about every detail of their crazy day. He’d told her he was
with the NSA and showed her a badge, but hadn’t shared a single thing about Chuck or what was going on. “Have a good night’s sleep. We’ll get you set up in better digs tomorrow.”

As the door clicked behind him, Jolynn thought of the incongruity of their situation and nearly gagged on the well of hysteria. How could the two men discuss such sleeping arrangements while she waited for bullets to rip the air again? Could a day this horrible really be routine to them? Could she even trust Charles… uh, Chuck?

Chuck locked the door, leaving them alone in the stark little room that for most would have been a romantic getaway in a foreign country. What a joke.

She watched him prowl, check behind mirrors, in closets, around the bathroom. He stopped by the window and peered out, obviously doing his best to avoid her. He still moved with the same methodical grace she’d seen in him as a blackjack dealer. And his face that had seemed so handsome and refreshingly open now appeared harder, edgier.

Of course, he was still her every sexual fantasy rolled up into one man, from his body ripped with muscles, to the burnished tan of his skin. She could barely pull her eyes away from the strong lines of his face, the exotic tip of his mesmerizing eyes.

And right now, he barely seemed to know she existed.

God, she hated the silence laced with fear of the un-known. “Are you looking for our pals by the catacombs? We wouldn’t want them to interrupt our little assignation.”

If he heard the taunt in her voice, he ignored it. “Our people secured the space before we came. I’m just checking their handiwork. I have a bit of, uh, skill in the techno field.” Chuck closed the slats on the wood shutters. The room
darkened to a gloomy cave lit only by a small lamp with a stained glass shade. “Security on the street is tight, but we still need to establish a few ground rules. Stay away from the window. Don’t answer the door, regardless. Don’t touch the phone— no calls in or out.”

BOOK: Protector
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ads

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