by Paige Tyler
Alyssa stepped closer, understanding a little something about acting without thinking. That was when she realized just how attractive he really was. Like Hollywood-movie-star attractive. And holy crap, he was even taller and more muscular than she’d thought. He wore his leather jacket unzipped, allowing her to make out some of his broad shoulders and all those pecs. Damn, they seemed to go on for days.
Maybe she should pat him down for weapons, starting with that chest. Purely for safety’s sake, of course. Okay…no…bad idea. She didn’t even know his name. Groping him would be rude.
So instead, she carefully reached out and took her gun from his hand, checking the magazine before putting it away. She hadn’t seen him messing with it, but then again, she’d seen how fast he could move. She backed away from him, not bothering to comment on the fact that he’d taken her weapon away from her. She didn’t like thinking about how easily he’d been able to do it. Then again, she hadn’t shot him, so as far as she was concerned, they were even.
Alyssa checked on the three unconscious men, kicking their weapons away and making sure they weren’t going to be waking up anytime soon. Once that was done, she walked over to the sedan and the two drugged girls lying in the backseat to find Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous already checking the twins’ heartbeats and respiration. The calm, confident way he moved suggested he’d done this more than a few times before.
“They’re both doing okay right now, but they could still have a bad reaction to the drugs,” he said, his concern obvious. “We need to get them to a hospital.”
Alyssa knew that was true, but unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. Because of the direction her investigations sometimes took, they were conducted under the radar. Christine was the only other person in the LA field office who knew she was there and what she was looking into. If word got back that she was running an op like this without alerting the local special agent in charge, things could get complicated.
“We’ll get them to the hospital.” She pulled her phone out and sent a text to Christine before slipping an arm under the first girl and gently tugging her out. Christine would be up worrying about her, so she’d see the text without a doubt. “But we can’t call an ambulance.”
“Why’s that? You’re a cop, right?” he asked, as if he already knew the answer.
She turned to look at him, trying to make sure she didn’t dump the unconscious girl on the hard ground at the same time. She was about to ignore his question or, even better, redirect him by asking if he was a cop, but when she opened her mouth to go that route, her damn instincts took over and she found herself saying the exact thing she shouldn’t.
“I’m a fed, not a cop,” she said, handing the first girl off to him. While Alyssa had struggled a little with her, Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous scooped her up in one arm like she weighed nothing more than a bag of groceries. The girl’s eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at the big man holding her. She smiled, then passed out again. “But we still can’t call an ambulance. I have someone I know who can take them to the ER.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice more curious than suspicious.
“It’s…complicated,” Alyssa finally said, ducking into the sedan for the second girl.
She expected him to press for an explanation, but when she had the second girl out, she found him gazing down at her with a slightly amused expression.
“I’m okay with complicated,” he said softly.
The way his British accent sounded out the phrase had her wishing he would say it again, possibly while leaning over and breathing softly along the bare skin of her neck. Or tracing patterns on her skin with those long fingers of his. Oh yeah, that would do it.
“I’ll get my SUV and meet you at the head of the alley,” he said, setting the girl down beside the sedan. “We can put them in the backseat.”
“I don’t think so,” Alyssa said, handing him the second girl before he could say anything. “We’ll put the girls in the backseat of my car, and you can follow me to the drop-off point if you want.”
“What’s wrong with my SUV?”
She didn’t answer right away, taking a few moments to pull the tracking device out of her coat pocket, then move to the front of the car. Flipping the tiny on/off switch with her thumb, she leaned down to attach it to the underside of a radiator mounting bracket. The heavy-duty magnet made sure it stayed put. She stood up to find him regarding her with an arched brow.
“It’s complicated, right?” he asked, mouth quirking.
It was all Alyssa could do to keep an answering smile off her own face. That was all she needed, for things to be more complicated. So she nodded and headed for the alley exit.
“By the way, you never answered my question,” he said. “About why we can’t take my vehicle.”
She turned back to look at him. “I’m not putting those two unconscious girls alone in a vehicle with you. You could be a psychopath for all I know.”
He snorted. “I can’t be a psychopath. I’m British.”
She was about to ask exactly what the hell that was supposed to mean when he continued.
“By the way, I’m Zane Kendrick.” He smiled, perfect, white teeth flashing in the darkness. “And before you ask, yes, I’m a cop.”
Alyssa ignored the interest her mind was taking in that amazing smile of his, because hello…complications! Instead, she nodded and kept heading toward her car.
“Alyssa Carson,” she said casually over her shoulder. “FBI. But you already knew that part, right?”
She expected him to say something snarky in that delicious British accent of his. Instead, all she got was what sounded like a growl, and yeah, that was pretty okay, too.
Chapter 2
“I’m guessing Christine is FBI, too?” Zane asked as he perused the menu at the quaint, old-fashioned diner where they stopped for dinner an hour later. “As well as being one hell of a good friend?”
“What makes you think she’s a fed?”
Alyssa made a show of scanning the menu, even though she already knew what she was going to order. She’d known the moment Zane had suggested going to a diner to grab a bite to eat. What could she say? French fries were her jam.
Of course, she was also keeping her eyes fixed on the menu so she wouldn’t be caught staring at the man across the booth from her. Now that she had him under some better lighting, it was obvious he was seriously droolworthy. Then there was that accent. She felt an incredible urge to strip naked, lie back on the table, and let him talk her to orgasm. She was sure she’d read something in Cosmo about that being possible.
The hunky cop with the British accent glanced over the top of his menu at her, making her peek up to see a knowing expression on his face. Yeah, he knew the effect he had on her.
“You sent Christine a text in the middle of the night asking her to meet you in a dark parking lot behind an old warehouse. When she shows up, she calmly helps us transfer two unconscious girls to her car after you tell her they’ve been drugged and need to be taken to a hospital ASAP. Then she leaves without asking a single question,” he pointed out. “A person that unshakable is either law enforcement or a criminal. Since you’re a fed, I’m assuming it’s not the latter. That makes her FBI. And one hell of a friend for not asking for details.”
Alyssa set her down menu, giving up on the whole ruse of looking like she’d been reading it. Besides, who was she trying to impress? “I’m guessing you must be a detective. Since you’re so clever and all.”
“I’m not a detective. I’m SWAT. The clever part is due purely to my British DNA.” He smirked, making her want to do seriously naughty things to his lips. Or have him do seriously naughty things to her with those lips. She wasn’t sure which. “What, you never heard of Sherlock Holmes? Being clever is in my blood.”
She shook her head, trying to shake loose her attraction to his witty charm. Damn, this man was dangerous. “I could care less how clever you think you are. I’m just trying to figure out what an LA SWAT c
op was doing in a nightclub following a group of men who spend their nights kidnapping girls for fun.”
“Who said I’m an LA SWAT cop?”
“You’re not?”
“No,” he said. “I’m from Dallas.”
Okay, that made even less sense. She opened her mouth to ask Zane what the hell he was talking about, but the waitress chose that inopportune moment to show up to take their order. Actually, there were two waitresses. Apparently, they really wanted to get the order right. Or more likely, both women had a thing for British accents. She supposed she couldn’t blame them.
As Alyssa ordered a Diet Coke and a plate of seasoned fries, she was shocked Amy, the redheaded waitress with the notepad, could take her eyes off Zane long enough to write it down. Zane ordered steak and eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast, and a plate of fries, because those sounded “bloody good.”
“I love a man who likes to eat,” the older of the two women said with a smile. African American with curly hair piled atop her head and a warm smile, her name tag read Edna. She asked Zane to repeat his order, to make sure they’d gotten it right. Alyssa didn’t necessarily mind. Even words as simple as eggs and bacon sounded sexy when he said them.
Then he made the evening complete by asking if they had Earl Grey tea. Because…British!
“Normally I’d ask about the insane amount of food you ordered, but I’m more interested in why a Dallas SWAT cop is in LA saving damsels in distress,” Alyssa said after the waitresses left.
Zane flashed her a grin. “Maybe I’m on vacation and saw something that looked a little suspicious, so I decided to help.”
The look he gave her was so angelic that for a moment she found herself wanting to believe him. Then she remembered the way he’d growled and thrown those Neanderthals around in the alley behind the club and reminded herself, while Zane might be attractive, he certainly wasn’t an angel. He might not even be human.
“By the way, I probably should have mentioned I saw the man and woman with you,” she said. “The ones you were talking to over that expensive-looking commo rig under your shirt. Are they Dallas SWAT, too?”
The smile never left his face, but those chocolate-brown eyes sharpened, becoming appraising. “Is it normal to run FBI operations without backup? What about hiding everything that happened from your fellow agents? Is that standard, too?”
She returned the smile that wasn’t really a smile. “Is this how we’re going to do this? I ask a question. You ask a question. I ask another one. But neither one of us answers. If so, I’m not sure why we’re here, other than to get something to eat.”
He lifted a brow. “Anything wrong with a man and woman having dinner with each other?”
“Oh, you mean like a date?” Alyssa laughed. “Well, crap. If I’d known this was a date, I would have worn something nicer. Maybe even done my hair.”
Zane chuckled, his eyes taking in the long, blond hair she had pulled back in a ponytail and the dark-blue blouse she wore. Her hairstyle was all about practicality because she never knew when she was going to have to chase after a bad guy—or smash one in the side of the head with the butt of her weapon. Her blouse was standard work issue. It wasn’t like she’d brought fancy clothes with her. In fact, she never packed anything dressy when she was working cases…which was pretty much all the time. Hoping to blend into the club, she’d left the top two buttons undone to flash a little skin and show off the white gold necklace she had on. That bit of skin suddenly seemed to attract Zane’s attention and his gaze became almost predatory.
“You look good just the way you are,” he said softly.
The compliment made her heart suddenly start beating faster. WTF? If she had any sense in her noodle, she’d be out of the booth and running for the door. But she stayed right where she was.
She didn’t say anything in response. Seriously, what was she going to say after a line like that? Thankfully, Amy and Edna showed up with the food then, giving them a reason not to talk for a while. The aroma of bacon and sausage wafted over from his side of the table to tease her even as the fries commanded her attention. Alyssa dumped half a bottle of ketchup on a separate plate, then added a good puddle of mayo on top of that. She dipped a few fries in the mixture and bit into them. Mmm, they were delicious. A little crispy on the outside, tender on the inside and perfectly seasoned.
Alyssa watched out of the corner of her eye as Zane dug into his steak and eggs. He didn’t bother with salt or pepper, or even steak sauce. He simply started eating. She expected him to pause and say something, but after a few minutes of silence, she decided coming to this diner had been a mistake. She had no doubt he and those two SWAT cops with him knew something about Mr. Creepy. It was equally obvious he wasn’t telling her jack. And as much as she liked the fries, she could get them anywhere, including back at her hotel.
Which was where she should have been right then, instead of wasting time at the diner. She could use the sleep. She’d been running on fumes the entire time she’d been in LA. She shoved another handful of fries in her mouth—holy crap, they were good—then started to slide out of the booth. She’d pay at the counter, then get the hell out of there.
“My teammates and I are out here trying to track down the man who attempted to kill us,” Zane said casually, pushing his empty plate aside and sliding the pancakes in front of him.
Wait, where had the steak and eggs gone?
Alyssa slid back into the booth. Yeah, the question he’d answered was one she’d asked ten minutes ago, but it was progress.
“This guy who tried to kill the three of you,” she said. “Does he hate cops or you three in particular? I haven’t met the other two yet, but I can definitely see a person coming to dislike you enough to try killing you.”
Zane snorted but didn’t look up from his stack of pancakes. He carefully layered the crisp bacon in between the fluffy pancakes, then slathered on gooey butter before dumping nearly an entire bottle of maple syrup over the top of the pile. He cut off a wedge from the stack that was way too big for a lion to eat and shoved it in his mouth. The sounds of happiness he made as he chewed were patently unfair. The man even made gluttony sound sexy.
Alyssa was beginning to think she’d have to wait another ten minutes to get more information out of him when he looked at her with those mesmerizing, dark eyes.
“The man we’re after didn’t just aim for the three of us. He led a group of men who were attempting to kill my entire SWAT team.”
Something clicked in her head then. Dallas SWAT team…terrorist attack…corrupt city official. Alyssa didn’t watch much in the way of news since her work was in the category most people would describe as all-consuming, but she vaguely remembered seeing something about a group of psychos trying to murder cops at a wedding.
“That was you, huh?” She gave him an apologetic look. “Since I’m a fed, you’d think I’d have figured it out the moment you mentioned you’re Dallas SWAT, but I’m a little disconnected from the real world these days. Sorry.”
He took another bite of the high-sugar-diet killer in front of him. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You don’t stay glued to the TV and social media. In the world we live in, that’s probably a good thing.”
Alyssa ate some more fries. Because they were there, and everyone knew it was bad luck to leave uneaten fries on your plate. “The man was a high-level city official or a cop, right?”
Zane nodded. “Randy Curtis, chief of police.”
Her eyes went wide. “Your own chief tried to kill you? Why?”
His mouth edged up. “It’s…complicated.”
She wanted to get pissed at his nonanswer, but she’d started that particular defensive strategy, so she supposed she couldn’t complain if he used it on her.
“Every law enforcement organization in the country is looking for Curtis,” she said. “What makes you think he’s in LA?”
Zane regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then turned his attention to his frie
s. Alyssa watched in amusement while he made french fry sandwiches with the toast, then slathered them with mayo. How could he eat this much and stay so fit?
“A teammate of mine who’s good with hacking tracked a text message on Curtis’s phone to LA,” he said.
“So, you came out to LA to find him yourselves,” she surmised. “I’m just guessing here, but I’m assuming you didn’t share this little tidbit of information with anyone else, right?”
He shrugged. “When your boss tries to execute your entire team, it’s a little difficult trusting outsiders.”
Alyssa could understand things becoming personal. It was a weakness of hers, too. “You obviously must have gotten some more leads since arriving in LA, since the three of you were scoping out that club.”
He gave her another long look, his eyes boring into hers as if evaluating how much he should tell her. “It turns out Curtis has family here, with lots of money, power, and connections.”
It didn’t take long for Alyssa to figure out where this was heading. “You think he came out here looking for help from one of his rich relatives. The creepy guy in the expensive suit?”
Zane nodded. “Stefan Curtis, his nephew. He’s the black sheep of the Curtis family—as in the Black Swan Enterprises Curtis family.”
Alyssa didn’t bother to hide her surprise. She wasn’t even from LA and still knew the name. Black Swan Enterprises was some kind of worldwide conglomerate, existing for no other reason than to make a buttload of money. She had no idea they were even based out of LA, or that a single family ran the group.
“Stefan has lots of money, but no obvious position within the Black Swan organization,” Zane continued. “More interesting than that though is his criminal record. He even has his very own goon squad.”
She nodded. “If someone in the Curtis family is capable of helping someone hide from the po-po, it’d be him. But where does the kidnapping angle come in?”
Zane pushed his empty plate aside and gestured toward Alyssa’s, arching a brow. She nudged her plate closer to him.