Morgan Page 13

  Rachel slapped the arms of her chair. “Screw Sidney. He’s in the middle of the very thing I don’t want. I’m not going to…”

  “Amber!”

  Jolting back, Amber snapped her head and the gun in her lap up. “Sidney.” She blinked and her vision cleared. “Gage. How did you…? Where did I…? Holy crap, what’s in that tea Krista gave me?”

  Gage crouched, caught her chin, and examined her eyes. “You can’t do this. Zone out in plain sight. Krista meant well, but she doesn’t fully understand the danger you’re in.” He tipped her head back. “Who’s Sidney?”

  She wrenched free of his grip. Too close, her brain cautioned. Too many feelings swirling inside. Too damn sexy for his, or her, own good. Backtracking to his question, she pressed her index fingers into her temples. “Sidney was with the WPP—some kind of middle man. He walked into a hot little room where Rachel and I had been sitting for almost two hours and told her flat out she’d be getting a divorce, that the wheels were already in motion. He was very…clinical. Tom defended him, but I remember thinking he was a government stereotype down to the ground. He wouldn’t let Rachel talk to her assistant, Lauren, or to Helmut.”

  “Her trainer.”

  “Yes. And of course Tony, Luka, and Gareth were totally out of the question.”

  “Making Sidney a prize asshole in Rachel’s eyes.”

  “Her description was more colorful, but like that.” Still seated cross-legged, she gripped his wrist. “Gage, something moved in the trees behind you. To my right.”

  The last word barely made it out before a pair of bullets embedded themselves in the shed. Gage shoved her down, grabbed his gun, rolled in front of her, and came up firing.

  Screw that. Wriggling sideways, she laid flat on her stomach and aimed her own gun at the trees. She had no target, but she could see the spot where the shooter or shooters had to be hidden.

  She targeted the first thing that moved, heard a quick, sharp cry of pain and fired again.

  Gage got in front of her, continued to shoot. Five more bullets flew toward them. “He’s down,” Gage shouted. “He’s firing, not aiming. Stay on the ground.”

  Amber glimpsed another flurry of motion. Were there two people? Were both of them wounded?

  More shots rung out. Gage returned the fire. So did Amber when she could squeeze the trigger without fear of hitting Gage.

  Her clip ran out, and she dropped her hands. The extra ammunition in her backpack might as well have been a thousand miles away.

  Another cry reached her, and suddenly everything went quiet. Only the frogs and crickets made any sound at all. And, of course, there was the blood pulsing in her ears.

  She levered up on her elbows, then worked her way into a crouch behind Gage. “Is this them setting a trap?”

  “Either that, or we hit them and they’re dead.”

  “How many did you count?”

  “Two. They travel in pairs. I’m going to stand, Amber. I want you to stay down. The weeds’ll give you cover.”

  She grabbed his jacket before he could gain his feet. “Are you crazy?”

  “Not yet,” he said. Then, reaching down, he cupped her head and brought her mouth up to meet his.

  The kiss scorched. It also stole the breath from her lungs, leaving her just dizzy enough that when her mind stopped swimming, he was gone.

  She couldn’t see him, so she knew he had to be circling, using the underbrush for cover. Her heart, which had been banging against her ribs only a moment ago, began to skip every other beat.

  This was insanity. Silent insanity, but still.

  Amber counted through the quiet. She was on the verge of standing when she saw Gage walking toward her, shoving an array of guns into his pockets and his waistband.

  “We got them,” he called out. “They’re dead.”

  “They.” She dropped her head onto her arms, felt the weight on her chest slide away. “I am so not used to this. I know they were Owen’s men, but how did they follow us here? We ditched the truck five miles back.”

  He helped her to her feet. “It has to be something were carrying.”

  “Something I’m carrying.” She regarded the gun in her hand, sighed, and held it out to him. “I guess this is as good a place as any to start.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He went over everything. Her gun, her phone, her boots, her clothes. He even examined the cosmetics.

  “Mocha Haze?” A brow lifted as he held up her lipstick tube.

  She took it from him in a weary gesture. “There’s nothing unusual inside, Gage. I bought most of this stuff in Black Creek, where stock is limited and sold by a couple who’ve run the drugstore for thirty-five years.”

  “What about your jewelry?”

  She twisted off a thumb ring and one from her middle finger. “White gold filigree, both given to me by my grandmother.” From her pack, she produced a delicate ankle chain and a pair of earrings. “These plus the pair on my lobes constitute the sum total of my current jewelry collection.”

  “You travel light,” Gage noted. “Lingerie not included.

  She snatched away the bra he was holding up and told herself not to laugh. Nothing about this situation was funny. There were two dead men fifty yards ahead, plus their truck, which was thankfully well hidden in the trees.

  “Are we just going to leave the bodies where they are?” she asked Gage as he checked out the lining of her backpack.

  “No, and if you’re smart, you won’t ask for details.”

  Amber wondered if perhaps she hadn’t asked for enough details. When he finished with her pack, she tipped her head at him. “That’s my stuff done. What about yours?”

  A new smile played on the corners of his mouth. “You think Owen Fixx bugged something I’m carrying?”

  “He might have.”

  “Or I might have?”

  She met and held his stare. “Apparently, it’s no secret that there’s a healthy reward out on me. You’re human, Gage, and by your own admission, cynical as hell. Fixx’s men keep finding us. Why is that? I’m not sure if you’re incredibly clever and deceitful or exactly what and who you say you are. If it’s the first thing, I’m in serious shit, which I am no matter how I look at it, since all the weapons are currently on your side of the RV.”

  Still not quite smiling, he tossed her a gun and two full clips. “I’ll wait while you load. I’ll even stand up and walk into the kitchen unarmed. I don’t fully expect even that to convince you, so if you want McCabe’s number, it’s on my phone.”

  She slid a clip into the empty chamber. “Talking to McCabe wouldn’t prove anything. I know him less than I know you. What’s his background, credential-wise?”

  “He’s a US Marshal with—let’s call them special privileges. He gets the tough assignments. Beyond that, there aren’t many people who know exactly what his privileges are.”“Are you sure he’s not working for Fixx?”

  “Mockerie.” Shrugging, Gage poured two mugs of fresh coffee. “McCabe would mingle with the great white, not the tiger sharks. I checked my own belongings, too, Amber. You can believe that or not. If you don’t, you’re free to take the truck hidden in the bushes and disappear. Go where a Winnebago can’t follow. I’ll even give you a list of RC-owned motels. They’re dives, but they work for a night or two on the road.”

  It was quite the speech, and it gave Amber time to study his body language. Nothing about his movements or his facial expressions suggested he was lying.

  The smile barely quirking his lips became a chuckle. “You can read me all day, Snowbird. I don’t have many tells. I’m told a muscle in my jaw used to jerk when I was tense, but that’s old news. I can play poker with the best of them these days.”

  “Comforting prospect.” She considered for a moment. “How big is the reward on me?”

  “Five hundred K.”

  Disbelief had robbed her of speech. For a stunned moment, she simply couldn’t form a coherent thought. When her he
ad cleared, she huffed out an incredulous breath. “Bear turned his back on half a million dollars?”

  “It’ll be six hundred thousand before you know it. The price is going up by the minute.” Gage pressed a mug of coffee into her hands. “Another few days, you might be tempted to turn yourself in.”

  The shock wall surrounding Amber’s brain shattered, and she shot him an exasperated look. “So much money,” she murmured, “for a few jumbled pieces of information that are already back in Fixx’s possession. Or Mockerie’s. Whoever. I know I’m repeating myself, but nothing about this makes sense. If I could remember what I stole from Fixx’s computer files, I’d have relayed it to a whole team of people by now. Surely not everyone in the US Marshals’ office and/or the FBI is corrupt. You trust McCabe. Why didn’t he come and talk to me after the information disappeared?”

  “Not his department, not his deal.”

  “Tom Vigor then.”

  “Same answer, for him and Sidney.”

  Her smile fell just shy of a grimace. “Sidney’s not someone I’d get chatty with. Definitely not somebody I’d trust. By the book and not a hair out of place never feels totally real to me.”

  “Is he attractive?”

  “To Rachel he could be. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  The coffee turned bitter on her tongue. “Rachel didn’t sell me out, Gage. Not to Sidney, anyway.”

  “To Fixx then?”

  “No.” She thought, but remained firm. “No. Even if she had, she doesn’t know where I am.”

  “You’re forgetting the lure, the phone call. The appeal to big sister for help.”

  “Your way of twisting things around sucks.” Leaving her cup on a low table, Amber climbed to her feet to walk off her irritation. And, as much as it galled her, to mull over what he’d said.

  “I’m not trying to annoy you.” He came back around the counter. “I just want to be sure. I want you to be sure. You want to find Rachel. Help her. But you need to be absolutely certain that her cry for help is genuine and not a ploy to draw you in.”

  Arms folded, Amber tapped her elbows with her palms. “Rachel’s not working with Fixx. I know my sister. Her voice wobbles when she’s frightened. She can’t fake it. I’ve seen her try. She’s a crappy actor, and I heard a distinct wobble.”

  “Maybe she’s been practicing.”

  Amber hissed in a breath. “Stop doing this. Rachel’s not involved, beyond the fact that she’s been kidnapped. What surprises me is that she hasn’t used her wiles on the men who are holding her. She has amazingly effective wiles.”

  “Maybe not all the people holding her are men.”

  “We know at least one of them is. We’ve talked to him. She’d need only one to succumb.”

  “Trade six hundred K for hot sex?” Gage moved toward her. “Could be a hard sell. Lucky for you, I’m not motivated by money.”

  “And I’m not swayed by kisses.”

  “Hot kisses,” he corrected, still closing.

  Scorching hot, but she didn’t intend to admit it. Or let him get any closer. She circled a small table. “Don’t push me, Gage,” she warned. “I fight dirty when I’m backed into a corner.”

  “I’m not backing you anywhere.”

  “You’re walking toward me and the door’s behind you.”

  “Guns are behind you. Loaded and within easy reach.” He kept his eyes fixed on her and made her throat go dry. “You want me to stop, all you have to do is say no. Otherwise…” Reaching out, he trapped her hand and eased her up against the wall. “We need to get this out of the way so both of us can think. Because right now, we’re going in circles.”

  He was right. This was wrong, but Gage wasn’t. The circles he’d mentioned were spiraling inward and making her dizzy. She couldn’t think when she was off balance. And, God help her, he had the sexiest mouth she’d ever seen.

  “Tell me to stop, Snowbird, if that’s what you want.”

  She felt his breath on her face, inhaled the scent of soap and leather and man. “You’re the scariest bodyguard I can imagine, Gage Morgan. I truly think I’d have been better off with Sydney Greenstreet. Or WPP Sidney for that matter.” Taking hold of his jacket, she touched her tongue to her upper lip and watched his eyes begin to smolder. “Word of warning, pal. There’s a side of me you know nothing about. Back in college, I learned how to make men beg.” A slow smile curved her lips as she tugged him closer. “You’re in serious, serious trouble.”

  …

  Mockerie tapped his pen on Owen’s desk. Tapped it, rolled it, slid it through his fingers while he contemplated. When Owen entered, Mockerie began to draw on the blotter. The despised model-perfect features tightened into a wince for a nanosecond before smoothing into his usual bland smile of acceptance.

  “Tan Italian leather,” Mockerie remarked. “Nice surface to write on. I see you’re carrying a bottle of fine whiskey. Are we celebrating something momentous?”

  “Soon. I have a plan.”

  “Better than the previous one, I trust.”

  “We didn’t play the first one right. Morgan’s good. I keep losing men.”

  “Meaning we’ve suffered another loss?”

  “Two of my people haven’t checked in for eight hours. They’re long past due. I’m thinking elimination.”

  “So am I.” Mockerie’s head remained down. Only his gaze rose. “Though not necessarily in the same context. Bump the reward up to a million, pour me two and half fingers…” He rubbed his own half finger. “And fill me in.”

  “About the losses I’ve suffered, or my plan?”

  Mockerie drew a guillotine with a lopped-off head lying on the ground beside it. “My patience is wearing extremely thin at this point.” He gave the head a tortured expression. “Loss of life is unimportant. Spell out your plan, in detail. And bear in mind that while I’m in the mood to see hot female blood being spilled, hot male blood works almost as well.”

  It pleased him to watch Fixx’s hand tremble before he turned. His voice, however, remained steady. “I think it’s time we gave technology a rest and focused on the golden carrot we have tucked away in hiding.”

  “That’s hardly a new plan.” Mockerie tossed back all two and half fingers without removing his gaze from the other man’s face. “It’s been our fallback from the start.”

  The tiniest bit of impatience leaked through. “Then we’re at the point where we need to use it.”

  “Excellent. However, didn’t you just finish telling me that Gage Morgan was extremely good at his job?”

  “He’s only as good as Alexa Chase will let him be. She loves her sister.” Owen sipped his drink. “The carrot needs to dangle on a longer stick, James. It also needs to move.”

  …

  She wouldn’t let this get out of hand, Amber promised herself. She’d kissed men before and managed to hold them back. The difference here was now she had to hold herself back.

  Gage made a thorough exploration of her mouth. His tongue dipped and teased and ignited every one of her senses. He was a shot of whiskey that set her throat on fire, then exploded like a fiery bomb in her belly.

  Whatever her intentions when she’d started this, they lay in shards at her feet. He was sin, pure and simple. The kind of man she’d made a point of avoiding to focus on her career.

  To hell with it, she thought. While Gage’s mouth was doing amazing things, his hands slid to her hips and eased her forward to meet his.

  The scattered heat in her belly coiled into knots. Her nerves leaped, her mind turned to mush.

  His lips left hers to skim across her cheeks and forehead. His palms came up to span her waist and her rib cage. She pressed herself against him while his thumbs stroked the sensitive skin beneath her breasts.

  Too much clothing, her bleary brain reflected. Too many layers.

  He pulled off the decorative band she used to secure her ponytail and threaded his fingers through the heavy length of it.

  Men al
ways loved her hair, which she supposed was why she tended to pull it back. Shaking it loose, she savored the feel of his hands tangled in it.

  The shadows in the RV shifted with the changing clouds outside. The room turned a soft shade of purple. The air warmed. Or maybe it was her blood heating up as her needs mounted.

  She dragged her mouth free. “I can’t think. You’re messing up my head.”

  The sexy half smile of his appeared. “Never think about sex, Amber. Just go with it and enjoy.”

  “I am enjoying. I just like to know the person I’m enjoying it with.”

  “Not one of Fixx’s or Mockerie’s minions.” He kissed the corners of her mouth. “That’s the best I can give you at the moment.”

  Was it enough? Amber ran her tongue over his lower lip, made a sound of pleasure in her throat. Maybe—for the moment.

  She nipped the side of his mouth. “Kiss me again and I’ll see how I feel.”

  “Not a problem,” he said and, cupping her face, dived in so deep her senses felt completely swamped.

  The shock of it had her easing back. “Okay. Wow!”

  Grinning, he shifted his grip. “Pretty sure we can do better than wow.”

  But before he could capture her mouth again, his eyes slid sideways and he halted.

  She frowned, dug her fingers into his shoulders. “What? Is someone outside?”

  “Shhh.”

  “But who…”

  He covered her mouth with his hand. “I heard an engine.”

  She stopped moving and listened until she heard it, too. Far, far in the distance, she caught the rumble of a high-powered engine. Then, just as it began to grow louder, the engine cut out.

  Five seconds passed, then ten. “We’re close to town, aren’t we?” Amber whispered at length.

  “Town’s north. It’s all back roads to the south. That truck was on one of them.”

  “We were south of here a while ago.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think someone’s looking for the dead men?”

  “Could be.”

  “Gage, your monosyllabic responses are far from reassuring. Do we need to be worried?”