by Elle Kennedy
There was no mistaking the way Ferguson’s shoulders stiffened, or the discernible gleam of triumph in his eyes. He’d just received some important news.
Very important, Nick amended as Ferguson immediately marched toward the doors again.
This time, he didn’t allow his father to stop him. His instincts were buzzing again, telling him not to let Ferguson out of his sight.
Without a word, Nick left his father’s side and threaded his way through the crowd toward the exit. He tried to keep his gait fast but relaxed, a difficult feat, but it was better than the all-out sprint his brain was ordering him to employ. He emerged into the wide hallway just in time to see Ferguson and his security detail round the corner at the end of the hall.
Two agents stood guard outside the ballroom. Nick attempted to look nonchalant as he walked past them, but the men weren’t fooled.
“Stop,” one of the agents barked.
Nick ignored him and picked up the pace.
“Sir, you were asked to stop!”
He was practically running now, praying that neither man drew his gun and shot him in the back before he reached the end of the hall. Fortunately, he remained bullet-free as he rounded that same corner where Ferguson and his guards had disappeared.
“Let go of me!” A female shout bounced off the walls.
He halted in his tracks, and his heart jammed in his throat when he spotted a flash of red amid the array of black across the hallway.
Rebecca.
Wishing like hell that he had a weapon, Nick lunged toward the source of the commotion, then skidded to another stop when half a dozen weapons snapped up in his direction.
“Nick,” Rebecca cried out when she spotted him.
He had a clear view of her now. She stood there surrounded by six agents, three of whom had their guns pointed at her while the other three kept theirs trained on Nick.
Rebecca wore the jeans and tank top she’d had on back at the motel, but her long hair was a tousled mess and there was a smudge of what looked like motor oil on her cheek.
“Detain her,” Ferguson snapped. “Him, too.”
The vice president took a step away from his horde of agents, then shot Nick an irritable look.
“I took the time to listen to your accusations tonight, son, even though it was highly insulting, and frankly, humiliating.” Those gray eyes blazed with anger. “But enough is enough. I can’t have the two of you spreading lies and slander—”
“Go ahead and arrest me,” Rebecca interrupted. “It’s already too late.”
A suspicious groove appeared in Ferguson’s forehead, but he didn’t ask her to clarify. Instead, he glanced at his guards. “Detain them,” he said again.
To Nick’s dismay, Rebecca took a step toward Ferguson, completely unfazed by the weapons being pointed at her. The damn woman stalked right up to the vice president of the United States and crossed her arms over her chest.
“The truth is out,” she announced, sticking out her chin as if to dare Ferguson to argue with her.
Nick’s heart did a little proud somersault. Christ, he loved that stubborn jut of her chin. Loved that she was totally oblivious to her diminutive stature, that she had no qualms about squaring off with men twice her size.
And her enthusiasm. He loved that, too.
Not to mention her determination. Her fearlessness. Her fire.
Aw, hell.
Had he fallen in love with her?
The startling thought slid into his consciousness in one rapid swoop, but he just as rapidly pushed it away. This was not the time to sift through the confusing emotions swimming around in his stomach.
“You can arrest us if you want,” she went on, her green eyes glittering with satisfaction. “But it won’t change a gee-dee thing—”
Despite himself, Nick’s lips twitched in amusement.
“The whole world will know the truth in about two minutes, if the news hasn’t already broken. In that case...” She just shrugged.
“The truth about what?” Ferguson asked coldly, continuing to play dumb.
“That you conducted biological weapons testing on innocent people. That the Meridian virus was your brainchild.”
“Lies,” he snapped. “That was McAvoy’s doing.”
“Oh, McAvoy?” Her lips twisted in anger. “You mean, the man you just ordered to be shot to death in his own home?”
Nick’s shoulders set in an ominous line. McAvoy was dead? When he studied Rebecca’s somber expression, he knew she was telling the truth.
And he also knew something else—if McAvoy had been shot at his house, then that meant Rebecca had disobeyed orders. Again.
Why was he not surprised?
“I’ve had enough of this nonsense,” Ferguson muttered.
He turned to his guards, no doubt to bark out another order to detain them, but Rebecca interrupted in a cheerful tone. “Is there a TV around here?” she asked. “There’s gotta be, right? I mean, look at the size of this place.”
Nick found himself grinning.
“Because I really think you need to get to a television,” she told the VP. “I think you’ll be singing a different tune once you see ABN’s eleven-o’clock segment.”
Ferguson’s face turned red, his eyes burning with fury. Without a word, he stalked toward one of the doors in the hallway and threw it open. Two of his agents went with him, but the rest stayed with Rebecca and Nick out in the corridor.
With Ferguson gone, Nick glanced at the redhead with a wry smile. “What did you do, Red?”
“Nothing much.” Her gorgeous green eyes twinkled. “McAvoy had incriminating evidence against Ferguson on a flash drive. He gave it to me before he died.” The twinkle faded into a dull gleam. “Connor’s dead, too. But I managed to get away.”
Fear and satisfaction mingled in Nick’s blood, though he discovered that the latter overpowered the former. The thought of Rebecca in the middle of a gunfight scared the living hell out of him, and yet at the same time, he suddenly realized he wasn’t at all surprised that she’d managed to escape.
Rebecca was smart.
Resourceful, strong, brave.
Of course she’d made it out alive.
Something hot and painful squeezed his chest, but he ignored it and focused on what Rebecca was saying.
“I stopped at an internet café on the way here and emailed all the transcripts on that drive to the network.”
Nick took a step toward her, then froze when two Secret Service agents cocked their weapons.
“Relax, fellas,” he said with a sigh. “We’re not the bad guys here. You’ll find that out soon enough.”
None of the men blinked or responded.
Rolling his eyes, he glanced back at Rebecca. “So you sent ABN the evidence. Good thinking.”
“Oh, I didn’t just send it to ABN. As of right now, every media outlet in the country, as well as a few key markets abroad, has a copy of every email and phone call Ferguson exchanged with McAvoy.”
A smile stretched across Nick’s face. “Nice.”
Rebecca spared a pithy look at one of the agents. “The whole world now knows that Ferguson was responsible for creating a biological weapon, testing it on innocent people and accidentally allowing it to be released on U.S. soil.”
She turned back to Nick, her expression becoming defiant. “I’m not going to apologize, by the way.”
He frowned. “Apologize for what?”
“Not staying put at the motel. I know I took a risk by bringing McAvoy to his house, but we needed to get our hands on that flash drive.” She stuck out that sassy chin of hers again. “And by disobeying your orders, I exposed Ferguson, so I refuse to be sorry for that, Nick. I don’t care if tonight reinforces every last thing you think makes us incompatible, but I won’t say I’m sorry.”
She finished in a rush, and he lifted a brow at her. “You done?”
“Yes,” she grumbled.
“Good, because I wasn’t expecting an
apology.” He shrugged. “And I’m not sure I want one.”
Her eyes widened. “For realsies?”
A laugh bubbled in his throat. God, he loved this woman.
Yep, he loved this woman. He frickin’ loved her to death.
“For realsies,” he confirmed. “You got the proof we needed, darling, and you showed it to the world. There’s nothing left to cover up. Ferguson can’t kill us and make up some bogus reason for our deaths. He can’t do a damn thing to us now.”
Rebecca’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Damn right, he can’t.” She suddenly clapped her hand over that sexy mouth. “Crap. I swore.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” With a dry expression, he glanced at the army of guards who didn’t seem inclined to lower their weapons. “I’m sure these dudes won’t either.”
He could have sworn he saw a muscle twitch in one of the agents’ jaws, but when he peered closer, the man was once again stone-faced.
Ferguson was still behind that door, and Nick could now hear the faint murmur of voices. They were most likely wafting out of the television the VP had turned on, the television that was tuned into the ABN newscast, which was, at the moment, airing Troy Ferguson’s dirty laundry and unconscionable actions to the entire country.
And even though Nick knew that now was definitely not the time to have a heart-to-heart—what with the armed men surrounding them—he couldn’t stop himself.
Besides, it seemed comically apt to be having this conversation during a situation that just oozed danger.
“I’m an idiot,” he told Rebecca.
She looked flabbergasted. “Why?”
His voice grew hoarse, thick with emotion. “Because I was so busy thinking about what ‘the one’—” he used air quotes to emphasize the words “—ought to be like, that I didn’t realize she was standing right in front of me the whole time.”
Rebecca’s breath hitched in pleasure, but then she faltered. “Wait. Is it me? You mean me, right?”
A soft chuckle filled the air, and they both turned to stare at the Secret Service agent who’d made the amused sound. The man guiltily cast his gaze downward, and when his head lifted again, his face had reverted back to robotically expressionless.
Fighting his amusement, Nick grinned at Rebecca. “Yes, I mean you.” His voice thickened again. “You’re the one. The right woman for me. I was just too blind and stupid to see it.”
“But...” She bit her bottom lip. “What about my job? Nothing’s changed. I’m going to keep covering the stories that intrigue me, even if they’re dangerous.”
“Look around us, Red.” He swept his arm at the handful of guns. “We’re splat in the middle of dangerous, and you’re handling yourself just fine.”
“I always do,” she said gently.
“I know.” He swallowed. “I was a real ass. An overprotective ass. And I was wrong, because you know what? If you hadn’t ignored my orders tonight, Ferguson might have gotten away with everything. And you know what else? I love how fearless you are. It’s downright inspiring. And even though it took me a while to figure it out, I also love the way you challenge me.”
He took a breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed about spilling his guts in front of four armed men. But Rebecca’s green eyes were swimming with such joy that he couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t leave her hanging.
“I don’t want to change you,” he said huskily. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that if you weren’t the way you are, I might get bored after a while.”
She studied him warily. “Do you really mean everything you’re saying, or are you just getting caught up in the emotional urgency of the situation?”
“The only thing I’m caught up in is you.”
Oh, brother. He regretted the words before they even left his mouth. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because he now looked like a total sap in front of all these beefy, broad-shouldered Secret Service guys.
And yet when he unintentionally met the eye of one agent, he could swear he saw approval reflecting back at him.
“That was smooth,” Rebecca said frankly. “I think my heart did a little flip. Write that line down, Nicky. You can say it to me every night before we fall asleep. It can be our ‘thing.’”
He laughed. “Deal.”
She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, but the sound of footsteps cut her off. All heads swiveled to find the secretary of defense striding toward them.
“Lay down your weapons,” Secretary Barrett ordered, looking stunned by the scene he’d stumbled on.
None of the agents obeyed.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Secretary, but we take our orders from the vice president,” one of the guards said, but his voice contained a note of genuine regret.
“Are you telling me that the vice president ordered you to hold two civilians at gunpoint, out in the open where anyone who wanders out of the ballroom could see you?” The secretary sounded livid. “Where is the VP?”
Nick cocked his head to the closed door ten feet away. “In there.”
“He’s watching the news,” Rebecca told Nick’s father. “Seems like all you ever see on the news these days is stories about corruption and cover-ups.”
A knowing gleam entered the secretary’s eyes. “It’s a shame,” he agreed. “But how convenient is it that we are now able to get a news update with the touch of a button?” As if to illustrate that point, Nick’s father held up his cell phone.
The screen was opened to the ABN website.
Nick choked down a laugh.
“I do believe President Howard is boarding Air Force One as we speak,” Secretary Barrett added. He glanced at the guard who’d spoken to him. “I also believe you’ll be receiving new orders from the director of Homeland Security soon.”
As if on cue, the lead agent suddenly touched his earpiece. He furrowed his brow, listened for several long moments, then muttered, “Yes, sir,” before finally ordering the others to stand down.
Nick breathed a sigh of relief as every weapon was lowered and the agents backed away from him and Rebecca.
The redhead immediately launched herself into his arms, and he held her tight, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.
“You okay?” he murmured. “You sure you weren’t hurt at McAvoy’s house?”
“I’m fine.” She kissed his clean-shaven cheek. “By the way, you look incredible in a tux.”
He chuckled, then wet his thumb with his tongue and wiped away the spot of grease on her face. “By the way, there’s one more thing I forgot to say.”
“Which is?”
He brought his mouth to her ear and murmured, “I love you.”
* * *
Rebecca didn’t even get to bask in the sheer awesomeness of Nick’s declaration of love. No, because the second she opened her mouth to order him to say it again—and then ten more times after that—the door that Ferguson had disappeared behind swung open, and the vice president stepped out into the corridor.
He was sandwiched between two agents again, but their posture no longer seemed protective. There was a combative feel to them now, as if they’d been ordered not to let Troy Ferguson out of their sight.
When Rebecca met the vice president’s gray eyes, she didn’t miss the cloud of defeat darkening them.
He knew he was beaten. No more cover-ups, no more hit squads. The second Rebecca had downloaded the contents of that flash drive and pressed Send, she’d known she was signing Ferguson’s walking papers.
It came as no surprise that he didn’t say a word to her or Nick, but he did address Secretary Barrett. “You know I was right to do it, Kirk. He’s too damn lenient. Too damn forgiving.”
Nick’s father released a tired breath. “There were other ways to push our agenda, Troy. If you’d only come to me, sat down in my office for an hour or two, the two of us could have designed a defense plan so rock-solid that Howard wouldn’t have been able to veto it.”
“Hindsight,” the VP murmured ruefully
.
The Secretary shook his head in disappointment, but he didn’t have an opportunity for further comment because the Secret Service agents began to lead Ferguson away, most likely on the orders of President Howard himself.
The other guards dispersed, leaving Rebecca alone with the two Barretts.
The senior Barrett cast a pleased smile in her direction. “Good work, Parker. He would have tried to lay the blame on McAvoy’s shoulders if you hadn’t found that evidence.” Now he glanced at his son. “Tell Tate and Stone to come home, Nicholas. They’ll need to be debriefed.”
“Yes, sir.”
The secretary turned back to Rebecca. “I’ll give you two a moment alone. I’m sure my son would like some privacy when he yells at you for leaving the motel, and I’m equally certain you’ll want some privacy yourself when you staunchly defend your actions.”
Laughing, Rebecca waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, we already had that fight, sir. It’s time for the kiss-and-makeup part.”
Nick’s dad chuckled. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
After the older man marched off, she grinned at Nick and said, “Anyway, back to what you were saying before...”
“What was that again?”
“Don’t be a jerk. You know exactly what you said.”
“Ah, you mean the I-love-you part.”
“Yep.” She crossed her arms. “Say it again.”
“Well, aren’t you bossy.” He raised his eyebrows. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember your returning the sentiment.”
She raised her eyebrows right back. “That’s because I’m still not sure if you meant it.”
The wounded look on his face caught her off guard. “Of course I meant it.”
“You really love me?” She narrowed her eyes. “Even though I’m a risk taker?”
He nodded.
“Even though I don’t plan on quitting my job, not now, and not after I have kids?”
Another nod.
“Even though I’ll probably always argue with you about every little thing?”
A nod, this one accompanied by a smile.
“Even though—”
He silenced her with a kiss, and God help her, but she couldn’t muster up any irritation at being interrupted. Instead, she sank into his strong chest and kissed him back. His tongue slid into her mouth, teased her with a few sensual licks, and then he tore his mouth away.