Assassination Authorized

by Erin Wade

  “Please, call me Jericho. After all, I am taking you to the prom.”

  Mecca suppressed the smile that threatened to light her lovely face. “You may call me Dr. Storm.”

  “Seriously?” she huffed. “Dr. Storm.”

  “Obviously, you’ve been following me since that assassin tried to kill Jane Doe,” Mecca said.

  Jericho nodded. “I was assigned to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  Jericho merged with the traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “Why don’t we stop at Cracker Barrel? It’s a couple of exits ahead.”

  “That sounds great,” Mecca said.

  ##

  They made small talk and ate breakfast then continued their trip.

  “You have always been my contact,” Mecca reasoned. “How long have you been my . . . um, bodyguard?”

  “How long have you been an asset?” Jericho asked.

  “Five years,” Mecca said softly.

  “There you go.”

  “You’ve been protecting me for five years?” Mecca’s expression reflected her disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m just now aware of you.”

  “If you hadn’t been in danger because of Jane Doe, you still wouldn’t be aware of me,” she explained.

  “Who is Jane Doe?” Mecca asked.

  “I’m not certain. Someone with resources wants her dead, and I can’t risk you being collateral damage.”

  “You saved her in the hospital, didn’t you?” Mecca studied her profile. Her features were breathtaking: finely chiseled nose and chin, blonde hair that swept across her forehead, and full, sensuous lips. Mecca had always liked kissing women with full lips.

  “Yes,” Jericho said.

  “Are you like a 007 agent or something?” Mecca scowled. “Do you have clearance to kill?”

  “Sorry, that is British and fiction. In America we are authorized to use deadly force if circumstances warrant. If you’re in any danger, I am authorized to protect you, even if that means using deadly force. Does that answer your questions?”

  Mecca glanced sideways at Jericho. Dear Lord, she is gorgeous. She pushed thoughts of holding her from her mind and stared ahead.

  “I’ve told you I’m guarding you 24-7,” Jericho said. “Now you tell me why.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what makes you so important that the United States government requires an agent with my advanced skills to guard you night and day?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mecca said, not yet ready to share the details. “I don’t know what your advanced skills are.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. As soon as they find out you’ve identified me, I’ll be pulled from the duty and sent to Siberia or somewhere equally unappealing.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mecca said. “Why can’t I know about you?”

  “I’m supposed to be invisible to you and anyone who wishes you harm. I see them; they don’t see me.” Jericho grinned.

  “It seems the closer you can get to me, the better you can protect me.” A smile crossed Mecca’s beautiful lips as she thought about waking up next to the blonde every morning. She chastised herself for the thought but reasoned that would make her much safer.

  “My boss won’t see it that way.”

  “How many people know about your assignment?” Mecca asked.

  “Only my boss. How many people do you report to?”

  “Only one,” Mecca said. “My boss is General Carson.” She watched Jericho closely for any sign the name might elicit from her. A slight smile and quick darting of the eyes confirmed what she already suspected.

  “You report to her too,” she stated flatly.

  Jericho nodded.

  ##

  Jericho sat quietly for a long time. General Abigail Carson was tough. Tougher than most of the men Jericho had encountered in the service.

  A retired four-star general, Carson ran the operations of a Joint Task Force dedicated to protecting US citizens engaged in covert activities on the government’s behalf. Many of Carson’s medals and accommodations were the result of Jericho’s successes.

  Jericho was a soldier, not a politician. She was more than content to let Carson accept the accolades from her covert activities. She was far more suited to the politics of being a general than Jericho.

  General Carson had always called on Jericho when the assignment required a capable, dedicated soldier.

  “Surely she would see the benefit of us working closely,” Mecca said, breaking the silence.

  Jericho grimaced. “No, she’ll consider me compromised, too close to the subject.”

  “She will be at the reception,” Mecca said. “We can talk to her, reason with her.”

  “Monday morning I’ll be gone. Another will take my place. Even if you do identify her or him, don’t let on.”

  “No! I want you!” If Mecca had been standing, she would have stomped her foot. Jericho grinned at the vision.

  “By Monday morning I’ll have a new assignment, and you’ll get a new shadow. You still haven’t told me why you’re so important.”

  “As I said, I’m not certain.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re certain about everything. You just aren’t sharing that information with me.”

  Mecca shrugged. “I believe we take the next exit.” Her tone told Jericho she was through with their discussion.

  ##

  As they followed the porter carrying their luggage to their rooms, Jericho suggested sightseeing.

  “DC is beautiful, and I would love to stroll on the mall, but I’m not in the mood today,” Mecca said. “I think I’ll take a nice hot bath and rest for a little while. Where are you taking me for dinner?”

  Jericho grinned, glad she’d been included in Mecca’s dinner plans. “It’s a surprise. Dress nice.”

  “Shouldn’t I know your room number?” Mecca asked as Jericho tipped the porter. “In case I need you.”

  Jericho unlocked the door connecting their rooms. “I’m right next door,” she said with a smile. She entered her room, leaving the door between their rooms open, creating a large, two-bedroom suite.

  “I’ll leave my door unlocked,” Jericho said. “If you need me, simply unlock your side of the door. I’ll be at your side instantly. I have special skills. I can demonstrate if you like. Dinner at seven.”

  Mecca closed the door between their rooms and leaned back against it. She involuntarily clenched her thighs as she thought about Jericho Parker and her special skills.

  ##

  Jericho knocked on Mecca’s door at seven sharp. She was stunning in gray slacks, a pastel blue shirt, and a dark blue jacket with three-quarter-length sleeves.

  She openly appraised Mecca, starting at her high heels, up her long, slender legs, across her flat stomach, resting a few seconds too long on the soft, ample cleavage before reaching the full, red lips and, finally, her glacier-blue eyes. Those eyes were haunting. Dark hair curling softly around her shoulders completed the picture. For Jericho, Mecca was the perfect woman.

  ##

  The restaurant was unfamiliar to Mecca. The décor and dimmed lighting created the perfect ambiance for a romantic evening. The dance floor to the left of the grand piano was inviting.

  The maître d’ smiled admiringly at Mecca and led them to their table. The sommelier presented a bottle of wine for their inspection.

  “Do you have a wine preference?” Jericho asked.

  “I’m certain whatever you select will be excellent,” Mecca said.

  Jericho ordered an expensive Bordeaux. “Please decant it,” she requested.

  The sommelier bowed slightly. “An excellent selection, ma’am.” He quickly returned with the requested wine.

  The sommelier poured a bit of wine in Jericho’s glass and waited for her approval. Jericho nodded, and the wine waiter poured the ric
h burgundy wine into Mecca’s glass.

  After the sommelier departed the table, Jericho held up her glass to propose a toast. “May we share many evenings like this one.”

  Mecca lightly tipped her glass to Jericho’s. “Yes, but I thought you were going to Siberia,” she said.

  Dinner was exceptional, as was the wine. Mecca was impressed with the breadth and depth of Jericho’s knowledge and understanding of international issues and US politics.

  Jericho leaned across the table. “Would you like to dance?”

  “Yes.”

  Jericho took Mecca’s hand and led her to the dance floor. The singer ran her hands across the piano and began to sing “When I Fall in Love,” made popular in the nineties by Celine Dion.

  They danced stiffly at first, but the ease with which Jericho moved Mecca around the dance floor relaxed the doctor, and she found herself melting into Jericho’s arms. If Mecca had to describe the blonde in one word, it would be sensual. She exuded strength, energy, and a passion for life.

  For the duration of the dance, they didn’t have to contemplate the dangers they were facing. They were lost in the warmth and security of their embrace.

  The song ended, and Jericho guided her back to their table, her hand on the small of Mecca’s back.

  “Have you ever been in love, Jericho Parker?”

  “No. What about you, Dr. Storm? Ever met anyone you couldn’t live without?”

  “No. I’ve always been too involved in my work.” Mecca smiled slightly. “I’m afraid there’s no room in my life for a lover.”

  “I would want to be more to you than a lover,” Jericho whispered, holding her gaze. “I would want to spend my life with you.”

  The server placed their check on the table, breaking their moment in time.

  ##

  “Thank you for a lovely evening,” Mecca said, smiling up at Jericho as they stood outside her room.

  Jericho knew she shouldn’t, but she bent down and kissed her. It started out as a chaste, gentle kiss, but Mecca found herself slipping her arms around Jericho’s neck and pressing the full length of her body hard against the blonde. Strong arms closed around Mecca and held her tightly as Jericho’s tongue moved hesitantly between her lips. Mecca’s tongue teased back as she sank deeper into Jericho, clinging to her. She had never clung to anyone in her life. She pushed Jericho away. “Goodnight, Captain Parker.”

  Jericho stood alone in the hall, overcoming the urge to kick in Mecca’s door and—

  The dinging of the elevator pushed away her amorous thoughts. She was certain she would not sleep tonight.

  Chapter 11

  Mecca picked up her Kindle and tried to concentrate on the book she had started the week before. It was no use trying; she couldn’t get Jericho Parker out of her mind.

  She gave in to her need to recall the way it felt in Jericho’s arms. She was powerful and solid. The feminine scent of her still lingered. She fought the urge to unlock the door between their rooms. She wondered how quickly Jericho could get to her.

  Mecca wasn’t lying when she told Jericho she had no room for a lover in her life. She had always had more than her fair share of admirers, but her work occupied her mind night and day. Why can’t I call up that same enthusiasm for my chosen field right now? She couldn’t get the heat she’d felt in Jericho’s arms out of her mind.

  She couldn’t stand it anymore. Throwing off the sheet and comforter, she slipped from her bed and took a cold shower.

  ##

  Jericho jumped as the lock on the door between their rooms clicked open. “Come in,” she called out when Mecca knocked.

  Jericho had on jeans. She looked around for her shirt. Mecca had dressed for the day in a pair of blue-wash jeans. A red silk blouse was tucked in at her waist. Jericho couldn’t tear her eyes away from her. She wondered if Mecca had intentionally left the top two buttons unbuttoned to drive her crazy. One look into Mecca’s laughing eyes told Jericho it was intentional.

  “Oh, you are evil, Dr. Storm.”

  “I thought we could have breakfast in the hotel.” She flashed an innocent smile, but her haggard look told Jericho she hadn’t slept either.

  “Give me just a minute,” she mumbled. “I can’t find my blouse.”

  “Is it gray silk?” Mecca asked.

  She nodded.

  “It’s on the doorknob, here.” Mecca picked up the shirt and walked slowly toward Jericho. She stood in front of her, admiring every inch of her ample breasts and iron abs. “You’re in incredible shape, Captain” she said softly.

  Mecca licked her lips, trying to moisten them. Her mouth and throat felt unbelievably dry. She closed her eyes and held out the shirt to Jericho.

  Jericho wrapped her fingers around Mecca’s and pulled her into her arms. The shirt fell to the floor as Mecca slid her hands up Jericho’s firm body and gave in to the desire to kiss her.

  Jericho’s kiss was gentle and easy. “Dr. Storm,” she whispered into Mecca’s mouth then searched for her tongue with hers.

  Mecca could feel the passion rising in her. She pulled away before it was too late. She stepped back, holding Jericho at arm’s length. “Breakfast. Knock on my door when you’re ready.”

  She closed the door between their rooms.

  Jericho splashed cold water on her face. She had to get herself under control before she knocked on Mecca’s door. Watching her from a distance for the past five years had been difficult, but being close to her was downright painful.

  ##

  “They made small talk over breakfast, each hesitant to reveal too much about their jobs or association with General Carson. “If you were here alone,” Mecca asked, “what would you do to pass the day? Don’t say pick up a woman.”

  Jericho laughed. She liked Mecca’s sense of humor. “I would go kayaking.”

  “That sounds like fun. Let’s do that.”

  Jericho looked at Mecca’s expensive heels.

  “I have tennis shoes,” Mecca informed her.

  Jericho grinned. “Okay. Let’s change shoes and go kayaking.”

  ##

  “A buddy is meeting us with a couple of kayaks at the Georgetown Boathouse just off Rock Creek Parkway,” Jericho explained as they pulled from the hotel parking garage. “Then he’ll meet us downstream and drive us back to the boathouse for my vehicle.”

  To say Jericho was impressed with Mecca’s kayaking abilities would be an understatement. She was leisurely letting her kayak move with the flow of the river. Mecca had no problem staying beside her. Sometimes Jericho would grab Mecca’s kayak and pull it against hers so they could drift down the river and talk. She would steer. The Traverse kayaks were perfect for them.

  They laughed and pointed out wildlife along the shore.

  “I’m surprised at your kayaking skills,” Jericho said. “I mean, being a city girl and all.”

  Mecca laughed. “We grew up on the Hudson. Teagan and I floated the river on everything from a sailboat to a huge log.”

  Jericho inhaled the sweet, euphoric scent of her as she watched the wind move gently through Mecca’s long, dark tresses. She was a perfect storm. She leaned toward Mecca. To her pleasant surprise, Mecca met her halfway and kissed her as fervently as Jericho kissed her.

  ##

  “What time is the car coming for us?” Jericho called out as she slipped on her fitted after-five dress.

  Mecca checked her watch. “In about fifteen minutes. Would you mind stepping in here and zipping me up?”

  They left the door open between their rooms so they could talk as they dressed for the reception.

  Mecca watched Jericho in the mirror as she entered the room. Mecca caught her breath. Jericho was breathtaking.

  Mecca’s blue eyes darkened, and a slow smile spread across her face. She could get used to dressing with Jericho Parker. Or undressing, she thought.

  Jericho’s warm fingers traced a line between Mecca’s shoulder blades and down to the zipper at the small of her
back. She wore no bra. There was nothing to stop the burning line of fire Jericho drew down her back. She leaned down and kissed Mecca’s bare shoulder.

  “You’re truly the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen,” Jericho whispered in her ear. The woman’s warm breath sent tremors through Mecca’s body.

  ##

  In the back seat of the limousine, Jericho held Mecca’s hand in her lap. “Are you nervous?”

  Mecca frowned. “No, why would I be?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right,” Jericho mumbled. “You’re fine. I’m the one who’s about to be sacked.”

  “You are serious about that?” Mecca turned toward her. “They’ll reassign you?”

  “I’m positive,” Jericho huffed.

  “Don’t bet on your cards until they’re all dealt, Captain.” Mecca smirked and brushed her lips against Jericho’s.

  ##

  When they entered the room, General Carson and her husband, a pediatric surgeon, were mingling with the guests. They gradually made their way to Mecca and Jericho.

  General Carson introduced her husband to the couple and raised a questioning eyebrow at Jericho.

  “If you two will excuse me for a minute,” General Carson said, “I need to speak with Captain Parker.”

  Dr. Carson began talking, but Mecca didn’t hear a word he was saying. All of her attention was focused on Jericho’s face. Her heart sank when she saw Jericho’s lips tighten and a shadow cross her face. Her gray eyes were almost black. She nodded to General Carson and walked stiffly back to Mecca.

  “Dance,” she commanded, as she pulled Mecca toward the dance floor.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I just received my reassignment,” she hissed.

  Mecca stiffened in her arms. “Is she sending you away?”

  “Florida,” she grumbled.

  Mecca stopped dancing and led Jericho back to the group where the Carson’s were visiting.

  “May we speak with you, General?” Mecca smiled. The General cast a quick glance at her husband.

  “Go ahead, dear,” Dr. Carson said. “I know enough people here. I can entertain myself. I need a refill anyway.” He headed toward the bar.