Читать книгу Fearless - ХеленКей Даймон, HelenKay Dimon - Страница 10

Davis sat across from Lara on the back deck of his brother’s twenty-six-foot cruiser. The gentle rock of the boat and slosh of water against the side had a hypnotizing effect. So did watching the guy four slips down stack enough supplies on the dock for a four-month voyage. Never mind that his boat was small enough to get tossed around in the ocean. Davis hoped the guy had the smarts to limit his trip to close-in on the Chesapeake Bay and have the coast guard on standby just in case.

But Davis had enough to worry about without adding another person to his Watch List. With his elbows balanced on his knees, Davis looked down at the rough white floor under his sneakers and listened to Lara’s description of what had happened at the Capitol Hill town house.

A knife wound. A dead naval officer. An attacker with a gun. Lara wrestling free and going on the run.

It was a lot to take in.

With each word, the adrenaline increased in speed as it raced through him. The need to find the guy and rip him apart nearly swamped Davis. He jammed his teeth together to keep from letting his rage out.

She wound down when she hit the part about leaving the city and heading for Annapolis. With an arm stretched over the top of the back bench, she stared at the locked gate separating the public area from the boat slips. Her mind clearly wandered to other concerns.

He knew where. “No one is coming in here who shouldn’t be here.”

“What?” She blinked as she looked at him.

He nodded in the direction of the mounted camera on the dock. “My team is watching the area through closed circuit.”

“When did that happen?”

The woman could stand to have a bit more faith in his skills. “The second after I called Pax.”

She shifted sideways and put her legs up on the padded seat. Thanks to a quick stop at the discount store, she’d changed clothes. Gone was the ripped and professional outfit. He preferred her this way. Relaxed and at ease. With her itinerary today, she’d earned a few minutes of peace.

She now wore jeans and one of those tops barely held on her shoulders with thin straps. It slipped past her waist but not by much. Another twist and he’d get a peek of her sexy bare skin and flat stomach. Not that he needed a reminder. He remembered every inch of her with his eyes open or closed.

She tipped her head back, and the fading sun streamed through her hair. Her husky voice echoed around them as she closed her eyes. “Are you in charge of this team?”

Damn, she was beautiful.

“No.” The word caught in his throat, but he pushed it out.

Also fought the urge to make her tell the entire story again. She’d run through it three times, the last one while grumbling and frowning at him through all but the end. She didn’t understand the importance of those tiny details that became clearer with each telling. He did.

“When did you take the job with Hampton and start doing security-clearance checks?” He knew her official start date, but the reasons for the change were a mystery.

“When I decided being an office manager at an intellectual-property law firm was not the most exciting career ever.”

He’d left her in a safe job with benefits and no danger, other than falling into a boredom coma or getting her shirt caught in the copier. Now she walked in and out of situations with people she didn’t know. Yes, she asked questions and collected data for a living, which should be relatively safe, but going into a stranger’s house was a whole different level of danger. One he didn’t accept for her.

“Isn’t protocol to meet interviewees in public places?” he asked.

“Have you been reading my employee manual?”

“I’m serious.” And about a half step away from being furious with her for taking huge chances.

“Usually, but this was a rush job and my boss asked me to fit the Wasserman interview in.”

The sequence seemed clear to Davis. She broke protocol this one time and the world came crashing down around her. Either her being there was pure coincidence, or someone had set her up. If the latter was true, then the second attack of the day made less and less sense.

So did her sudden change of position on job-related risk. She’d hated that he took them, but now she was plunking that perfect butt right into the middle of some sort of war.

The realization made his hands shake with the need to yell. The growl roared up from his stomach, but he tamped it back down. “So, you switched jobs because you wanted something dangerous.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m thinking it was implied.” She was making this conversation more convoluted than necessary, and they both knew it. The fact she didn’t give him eye contact gave her away. “And you used to say I was the one with the communication issue.”

She made a choking sound as she lifted her head and swung around to face him again. “Speaking of that, what’s with all the team stuff? Last I checked, you were flying around the world conducting investigations about military intel.”

The brunt of his anger smoothed away. Okay, this part promised to be difficult. He shot the other boater a look just to see if he was listening in. Davis looked in time to see the guy trip over his cooler. That was about as smooth as Davis felt at the moment.

Rather than dance around it, he said it straight. “I quit that job and went with a private firm.”

“Oh, really. The same job I begged you to leave.” The flat line of her mouth and dead eyes suggested she’d reached the end of her patience.

He couldn’t really blame her. They’d gone around and around on this topic when they’d been together. She hated his work and the life-threatening situations it threw him in. That last DIA-related assignment broke them apart. He’d sat there in San Diego, listening on the phone while she begged him to come home. He’d almost crushed the cell under his hand in frustration because he couldn’t get to her.

The crying and pleading had been new. Anger he could handle, but hearing the desperate tremble in her voice shredded him. Even thinking about it now started a hollow rumbling in his gut.

She hadn’t cared that his old boss was trapped in a nightmare because his fiancée had gone missing or that his boss’s twin brother nearly had got killed in an explosion. She asked him to turn his back on everything he knew to be right, and he couldn’t do it.

After the tense discussion, Davis and Pax had agreed they needed to finish the job. Just a few more days. Davis had justified it in his head until he blocked out the sound of her voice. The operation ended but Davis had come back to Lara and her packed bags and the engagement ring on the kitchen counter.

He couldn’t deal with any of that now. “I see the irony.”

“It’s more than that, Davis. We broke up over your habit of picking your job over me.” In the past, she’d deliver a line like that in a moment of pure female fury. Now she said it with all the emotion of reading a grocery list.

“We broke up over a lot of things.” Her lack of support and refusal to accept who he really was being some of the points he remembered.

She opened her mouth twice but nothing came out. Without warning the tension left her shoulders. “I am going to let that go because you saved my life today.”

Not sure he’d actually won that round but unwilling to get her riled, he nodded. “Much appreciated.”

“I’m guessing you don’t sit at a desk at this new job.”

There always had been so much about his job he couldn’t explain. This was part of that. “I’m sitting now.”

“You always were the best at dodging a question.” She lifted her hair off her neck. If she was hoping for a breeze, none came.

The air stood still. The heat was actually wet, choking as it burned down your throat. Having her sit there, sun-kissed and hotter than he remembered, made his temperature spike into the danger zone. This heat had nothing to do with anger or the temperature outside. This was pure, unfiltered need. All the fighting and months apart hadn’t crushed that.

“Ask me anything, but first answer one question.” He rubbed his hands together, debating if this was the right time. “Why me?”

“What?”

“You could have called the police or a friend. You were thirty miles away and you’d had a huge scare and you got in a car and drove to me.”

Amusement lit her brown eyes and a smile inched over her lips. “You’re the only spy I know.”

He really did hate that word and she knew it. “I’m serious.”

“You weren’t the best fiancé but you were great at your job. I knew I needed the best.” She glanced at the radio on the deck next to his foot. “Anything on the news yet?”

“No.” The answer was automatic. It wasn’t as if the radio was even turned up loud enough to hear it. At this level it sounded more like static or a low mumble, but he knew how this game was played. “Wasserman was in the military. NCIS probably dropped a net over this while the experts come in to collect evidence.”

A different emotion moved over her face. One that looked suspiciously like doubt. “Explain to me again why we aren’t reporting the murder.”

“I don’t want questions from anyone, including NCIS, the FBI or the police, until we know what happened in that kitchen and why.”

“I don’t get it.”

Of course she didn’t, because he was purposely not explaining it. That plan might have worked on another woman, one not as smart or intuitive. One who let things slide and accepted things just because someone said them with authority. Nothing about that description fit Lara.

She picked and checked and he’d loved that about her from the beginning. A whiny, clingy type didn’t suit him. He wanted vibrant…then he’d had it and lost her anyway.

The least he could do was let her see how this would go. “How many people knew you would be at Wasserman’s house today?”

She shrugged. “A few. Why?”

“Did you touch anything?”

“I don’t—”

“A table. The door. A glass.” He ticked the possibilities off on her fingers.

“All of them. What is your…?” She blew out a long breath. “You think I’ll be blamed for this?”

“Possibly.” Definitely. The police would look at the forensics, and Davis feared those results would only point in one direction. Hers.

“But not coming forward will only make me look more guilty.”

“That depends on why Wasserman was killed.” A question Davis wanted answered as soon as possible.

“What are you saying?”

A bell dinged in the distance as birds squawked. “Someone took him out before he could talk with you. Who knows what information he had or why someone would want it silenced.”

“Yes, so—”

“He asked specifically to speak with the investigator.” Davis switched seats. Instead of sitting across from her, he slid in next to her with his arm running along the back of the bench seat. “Coughlin, the guy you’re investigating, didn’t put Wasserman on the list. He got there because he came forward. He had something to say and specifically asked to say it that day.”

“How do you know this?”

His hand brushed against her back, right near her shoulders. When she didn’t pull away or wince, he kept it there. “I know people.”

“I’m serious.”

His fingers touched her soft hair. The gentle waves wrapped around his thumb. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“I don’t believe this.” She bent forward with her arms wrapped around her waist. When she started rocking, he moved in closer.

“Hey, come here.” That arm slid around her and pulled her in tight against his side. Seeing her confused made bile rush up the back of his throat. “It’s going to be fine.”

She stared at his wide eyes, and a strain pulled across her cheeks and mouth. “How can you say that?”

“As you pointed out, I’m very good at what I do.” His fingers threaded through her hair as his mouth hovered just inches from hers.

“What is it you plan to do?”

Kiss her, deep and hard, and not stop while either of them could still move. He wasn’t one to mix business and pleasure, but control deserted him when she was around.

Even after she’d left, he kept the memories of her alive. He wanted to be pissed and still seesawed back and forth, but he couldn’t hold on to the rage. The hurt and disappointment, well, those lingered.

But she was talking about work and he forced his mind to focus on that. She needed protection, not pawing. “We’ll figure out why Wasserman is dead and why, coincidentally, people tried to take both of us out on the same day.”

“I’m confused. Do you think this is about my work or yours?”

He was still deciding. “Until I know, you are pinned to my side.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She said the words even as her hand traveled over his chest and down to his stomach.

“Then you should have called your imaginary boyfriend.” He kissed the very tip of her nose, thinking the soft touch would satisfy him.

He was dead wrong.

“I had a hard enough time handling the flesh-and-blood type.” Their heads bent so close together that her whispered words blew across his lips.

“From my memory you handled that quite well.”

He gave in. One small press of his lips against hers. Quick and gentle, with barely any heat.

“Your ribs.”

“I’ll let you know if you’re too close. So far, we’re good.”

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Davis—”

“Trust me.”

The second kiss blew the first away. This one sent energy arcing between them. His mouth over hers, pressing, touring, tasting. His hand in her hair and her cuddled against his chest.

He could feel her fingers slide over his shoulder and trail down his back. Any closer and she would be on his lap. He no sooner thought it then his arm slipped under her legs and tugged them up and over his thighs.

The kiss exploded and devoured. Any idea that they were done flushed out to the bay. When her head fell back and he started to push her down on the bench, he knew his control had snapped and it would take an army to put it back together again.

He’d just decided to tease the edge of that thin shirt and tunnel up when the nerve ticked at the back of his neck. At first he felt more than saw movement on the walkway down to the dock. Then he heard the clang of the gate and thumps of footsteps. If the person wanted to sneak up, they’d failed. No way was this a professional killer. Well, not the enemy kind.

Davis lifted his head and, after a quick look over the side, stared down into Lara’s cloudy eyes. “Company.”

The boat shifted in the water and the footsteps fell louder. The chuckle came next. “Probably not the best timing on my part, but hello.”

Davis looked away from the woman who meant everything and over to the brother he’d called for help. Pax stood on the ladder with a bag of what looked like food in one hand and a folder in the other.

After a quick mental assessment Davis decided all of that, whatever it was, could wait. “Get lost.”

“Pax!” Lara jumped off the seat and straight into Pax’s arms. He dropped his packages just in time and her smile beamed. “It’s good to see you.”

Lara had the power to lighten even Pax’s darkest moods. They had a sister-brother relationship. They joked and she made fun of the way he hid his dates from her. And put either of them near a tub of raw cookie dough and it would be gone before you could get a spoon and jump in.

The stab of guilt over losing her extended to Pax. Davis had lost the love of his life. Pax had lost someone he cared about, and that list was not very long.

“You, too, though the circumstances need some work.” Pax looked at Davis over the top of Lara’s head and mouthed the word sorry. “You guys okay post guns and knives?”

“I was better five minutes ago,” Davis mumbled.

Pax kept an arm around Lara. “And look at you beating up the bad guys. I hear the lamp is your weapon of choice.”

“Kind of hard to hide in my pants, but yes.”

Accepting the fact the kiss was over and not going to be revived anytime soon, Davis motioned for Pax to sit. “What did you find out?”

Pax guided Lara back to the bench next to Davis before grabbing his dropped belongings and dropping in the seat across from them. “NCIS is on the scene at Wasserman’s house. Agents are looking for Lara.”

The blip of happiness disappeared. She looked back and forth between the men. “What?”

“And the dead guy on your floor is, or I guess I should say was, a gun for hire. Former military with a dishonorable discharge. Apparently, your boy liked to shoot a bit too much.” Pax handed the file to Davis. “So, it looks like we have some work to do.”

Lara slumped back in the seat. “I almost hate to ask what all of this means.”

The notes were few, but Davis read enough to be concerned. He flipped the pages but put the file down when he realized Lara’s total attention was focused on him.

Prettying it up wouldn’t help, so he shot right to the truth. “Pax is saying you’re likely to be the number one suspect in the murder of Wasserman.”

She shifted until her feet hit the floor, then she pulled them up, then they went back down again. Something seemed to be pinging around inside her and making her squirm. “But why would I kill him? I don’t have a motive.”

Davis switched to his game face—all is well and easy to handle—to try to calm her down. Her switch to panic mode would only make the job tougher. “We need to figure out who did and why.”

“And then get to the bottom of Davis’s attacker,” Pax said.

Lara reached for the file but dropped her hand. “The attacker could have followed me. He came in Davis’s house right after.”

Davis had already thought about that possibility and discarded it. “Did you see him following you?”

“No…” She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

Pax looked out over the boat slips and exhaled loud enough to start a tidal wave. “What a mess, but at least some things never change.”

“Like?”

“Ken.” Pax pointed at the man still struggling with his pile of equipment, this time a net he’d accidentally stepped into and got caught around his feet. “Thinks he’s a boater.”

More like a menace, as far as Davis could tell. “I’m afraid he’ll hurt himself or, more likely, someone else.”

“The chances are limited. He never leaves the dock. He gathers stuff, sits on the boat and then goes home. It’s an expensive hobby.” When Ken glanced up, putting his hand over his eyes to block the sun, Pax waved. “Weird but harmless. But back to the attacker issue.”

Her body fell. “So, what are you guys saying?”

“Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.” And that idea didn’t bother Davis at all.

She gnawed on her lip again. “Oh.”

He winked at her. “Welcome back.”