On the Hunt

by Alexandra Ivy

  Even pale and gasping for breath, Lynne Harmony rolled bloodshot eyes. She lay in the hospital bed, not moving, the pallor of her skin lighter than the white blanket covering her rapidly diminishing form. She now needed oxygen to breathe, and the strong antibiotics being pumped into her veins were doing more damage than good. “They’re gonna move me in a minute, and I need a favor from you first.”

  “Anything.” Nora slid closer to the plastic. “You’re my best friend.” And you’re dying. Bret had fought tears when he’d left earlier. “I’ll do anything for you.”

  Lynne’s lips trembled in a parody of a smile. “Call it a deathbed wish, if you like.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Nora snapped out. “Fight this, damn it.”

  Lynne’s eyelids fluttered. “I will. Promise. For now, you said anything.”

  Nora nodded. “Yes.”

  With an obvious struggle, Lynne forced her eyelids open, and her green eyes focused. “I always thought we’d be at each other’s weddings. You know, ugly bridesmaid dresses and all.”

  Nora frowned, her instincts humming. “Me too.”

  “Well, this is fucking ugly.” Lynne glanced down at the hospital gown. “Fugly, if you will.”

  Nora tilted her head. “Lynnie—”

  “No.” Color suffused Lynne’s face. “No silliness, no protest, no self-protection. I want this, and you promised.” Her voice slurred on the end.

  Nora shook her head. “Want what?”

  “You. Safe and protected.” Lynne gasped for air. “It’s all I want.”

  Oh, man. The fever was taking her brilliant friend away. Nora nodded. “I’m safe, Lynne. I can protect myself.”

  Lynne snorted, the sound tinny over the line. “Bullshit. With what’s coming, with disaster, you can’t protect yourself. He’s stronger than you. Meaner. A survivor.” Her eyelids fluttered. The monitors beeped.

  “Lynne!” Nora clapped her hands.

  “What?” Lynne groused, opening her eyes again. “Oh yeah. Marry him so I can die in peace. I need to know you’re protected.”

  Nora’s head jerked back. Her stomach dropped. “Marry him?” Where had her friend’s head gone? She was perfectly capable of protecting herself. Wasn’t she?

  “Yes.” Lynne sighed.

  The door opened, and Deke stalked in, his gun at his hip and a frown on his face. Behind him loped a gray-haired pastor in full robes.

  Her heart jumped hard, and her abdomen warmed. Harsh lines cut into the sides of his mouth, and his green eyes held anger. But damn, it was good to see him. Then Lynne’s words hit her. “Oh, hell no,” Nora swore.

  Amusement lightened Deke’s green eyes to the color of a spring river. She gaped, not having seen the expression on him for nearly a month.

  He nodded at Lynne. “I take it you made your deathbed request?”

  Nora turned and punched him in the arm. Hard. “She’s not on her deathbed.”

  Deke shot her a warning glance and rubbed his bicep, leaning over to speak in the mic. “I’m not sure about marrying this wild woman, Lynne. She just hit me.”

  Lynne coughed out air, and a tremor shook her body. The blue heart shone bright from beneath the covers. “You promised, McDougall.”

  “Aye, I did.” He turned and looked down at Nora before grabbing her hands in his big ones. “Start the vows, Pastor.”

  Nora shook her head and tried to jerk free. Without success. “You set this up,” she accused Deke.

  “No,” Lynne said weakly. “I talked to him this morning. Asked him. Please, Nora. I want to hear the words before I go.”

  Nora gaped, looking from Lynne to Deke. This couldn’t be happening; the fever was seriously screwing with Lynne’s brain. “This is crazy, Deacan,” Nora whispered.

  He lifted a massive shoulder. “I always figured on marrying you again, and why not make your friend happy? Give her some peace.”

  “Please,” Lynne groaned.

  On all that was holy. Fine. Bloody Deacan McDougall had no problem taking advantage of the situation, now did he? Nora could grant a deathbed wish, if the vows would give Lynne peace. Then she’d march her ass down to the courthouse and annul the damn thing. Nobody was going to force her into marriage. She showed her teeth to Deke, and his chin lifted.

  Nora pushed out air. “If I marry him, you have to promise to live, Lynne. Promise me.”

  Lynne nodded. “It’s a deal.”

  Nora glanced back at Deke. “Fine.”

  The pastor was fast and kept the vows simple. Within five minutes, Nora found herself married to Deacan once again. When he slipped on her wedding band, the same one from before, she gasped.

  “You threw it at my head when you left,” he said calmly.

  “You kept it?” she whispered.

  He looked down through heavy-lidded eyes. “Aye. Figured I’d put it back in place at some point.”

  Lynne smiled at the end, her eyelids closing. “You all come visit me in Maryland for your honeymoon,” she whispered before falling asleep.

  “You can kiss your bride,” the pastor said.

  Nora stilled and opened her mouth. Deke leaned down and grasped her shoulder, pulling her into him. His mouth covered hers, so much power in the move that she rose to her tiptoes out of instinct. He kissed her hard enough her head fell back, and she had to grab his rigid biceps to keep her balance. His tongue swept inside her mouth with masculine insistence, staking his claim, and desire spiraled through her flesh to her blood. Maybe deeper.

  Finally, he released her.

  She blinked, her body rioting. With a gasp, she released his arms.

  He took her hand and led her from the room and down the corridor. She tripped beside him, trying to control herself. Finally, he paused.

  She freed her hand from his. “I can’t believe you went along with that,” she hissed.

  He rubbed her arm, his expression unreadable. “Your friend is worried about the future and wants you safe. I want you to be mine again. The timing worked.”

  Nora drew away, facing him fully, needing to lift her head to keep his gaze. Man, he was tall—and big. Sometimes she forgot about his sheer size. “I’m not staying married to you.”

  His eyes darkened, and his face hardened in a way she hadn’t seen before. “Aye, you are.” He leaned in, bringing the scent of male with him. “You run this time, Nora, and I swear to all the Scottish gods watching over me, I’ll come after you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  That evening, after a frustrating day in the lab, Nora waited in what was now her office, trying not to cry. The CDC had taken Lynne away, and her chances weren’t good. But she’d sure made things interesting before leaving, now hadn’t she? Leave it to Lynne, the world’s most dignified romantic, to arrange Nora’s love life before leaving.

  Married. Lingering rays of moonlight slanted through the partially drawn shades, catching Nora’s simple platinum band. She was once again married to Deacan McDougall. Before, she’d been able to somewhat handle the boy. Now he was all man. Could anybody handle him? Even though it had only been four hours, she felt different.

  The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her after the ceremony . . . had been different.

  Purposeful. Protective. Possessive.

  The part of him he’d always contained seemed present now. Out free and wild.

  Judging from the kiss he’d given her, he didn’t have any intention of subduing himself. The guy she’d glimpsed during her first week in D.C., the cheerful strategist whose biggest concern was creating battle plans for faraway places, was gone. Instinct told her the existence of that Deke had been fleeting, anyway. A man’s true nature couldn’t be contained, and she knew now, more than ever, that Deacan would never be restrained.

  Even if the CDC contained the spreading infection, even if life continued on as it was, Deacan wouldn’t remain a mere advisor.

  That much she knew.

  What he’d do, she wasn’t sure. But he was
a fighter, a warrior, and those characteristics lived in his very blood. She’d known it years ago, and she’d run.

  Was she strong enough to stay this time?

  A shadow crossed her vision, and Deacan filled the doorway. Solid, strong, and steady. “The FBI has a new lead on Zach Barter in Texas.”

  She swallowed. “I see.”

  He reached out a hand. “Let’s go home. We need to talk.”

  They needed to talk? Seriously? Steam nearly boiled from her ears, and she shot to her feet. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

  “I know.” He waited, ever patient, until she’d crossed the room to take his hand. “While I’ve been finishing up with the FBI, have you been in here plotting my death, planning your escape, or accepting your current situation?”

  “If I were plotting your death, McDougall, you’d be dead.” Head held high, she began to sweep past him.

  And forgot he had her hand.

  She jerked to a stop and let out a low snarl.

  He fell into step beside her. “I say this time around, any time we wanna fight, we do it naked.”

  She snorted. Though she’d never admit it out loud, if they fought naked, she’d lose. “Sounds like a good way for you to be seriously damaged, McDougall.”

  He paused. “Good point.”

  She laughed, catching herself off guard with the sound. When was the last time she’d laughed? She pondered the question as they climbed into his truck and drove the block to the apartment building. In the parking lot, she paused to look at him. “We both know you’re done creating strategy. What’s next for you?”

  He blinked and stepped out of the truck, crossing to open her door. With a gentleness only a big man could show, he helped her from the vehicle. “You and I will make a decision as to our future. Afterward.” His hand at the small of her back felt both familiar and new as he propelled her toward the door. At the entrance, he swept her up.

  She yelped and grabbed his chest. “What are you doing?”

  He grinned and carried her through the entryway and up the flights of stairs to his apartment door. “Figured we’d do it right.”

  Her heart hummed in her chest as he crossed his threshold and finally set her down inside. “You said we’d discuss your career afterward? After what?”

  He kicked shut the door. “After we consummate the marriage. We wouldn’t want an easy out, now would we?”

  The breath caught in her throat, and she took a step back. “Ah—”

  “Ah, what?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  She blinked, desire weakening her knees. He wanted to consummate. Her nipples hardened instantly. Man. She had it bad. “We should talk now.”

  He stared down at her, not blinking, obviously contemplating. Heartbeats later, only a twitch of his jaw showed he’d reached a decision. “Nope.” Faster than a man his size should be able to move, he ducked, and she found herself over his shoulder. Air blew through her hair when he stood, and the blood rushed to her head.

  She smacked him as hard as she could on the ass.

  His smack beat hers, hands down. Pain rippled through her butt, followed by instant heat. “Damn it, Deke,” she muttered. She caught a glimpse of the sofa, a doorway, and then a bed before he flipped her back over in the bathroom. He used one hand to steady her shoulder and the other to reach in and turn the shower knob.

  She tried to clear her mind. “You want to consummate in the shower?”

  “Aye.” He tugged her shirt over her head along with her bra. “We’ve been at the CDC all day, and I want warmth and woman. I can get both in the shower.” He unbuckled her jeans and shoved her clothes down her legs.

  Her mind spinning, she kicked out of the jeans and her sneakers, leaving her completely nude. She swallowed.

  He lifted an eyebrow in a silent command.

  Oh. Well, okay then. Her hands trembled as she unhooked his belt and jeans to push them down his legs, revealing a fully erect cock. Her body sizzled with hunger at the sight. He helped her by toeing off his boots and kicking everything across the room. “Shirt,” he said.

  She thought about defying him, but then she’d be without the sight of his impressive chest. He had to duck to help her, but soon he stood nude.

  A soft sigh breathed out of her. He was strong and scarred, with hard ridges of muscle down his arms and across his chest. She flattened her hand over his heart. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

  He grasped her and kissed her in a combined move of strength and gentleness. Lifting her, he walked into the shower, setting her shoulders against the dark tile, protecting her from the spray with his body. Holding her aloft, he leaned back. “I wanna be married to you again, Nora. Truth be told, I’ve never felt without you.”

  Such sweetness from such a dangerous man ambushed her every time. She ran her hands through his wet hair. Life had changed, and things were going to get worse. One or both of them could be gone in a week if the bacteria continued to spread. She couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’ve missed you.”

  His eyes darkened, and he pressed between her legs, slowly pushing all the way inside. The second he filled her, it felt like coming home. Finally. She swallowed and leaned forward to drop a kiss above his heart, her entire body vibrating.

  His chest hitched, and his fingers tangled through her hair, drawing her head to the side. “You’re willing to give us another chance? A real one?” he asked.

  She looked into his eyes, absorbing the different colors of green, noting the question in them. Had she ever felt separated from him? Really? Probably not, and life was too short to miss out on Deacan. He was difficult and deadly, but he was hers. “Yes,” she breathed.

  At her acquiescence, a lump of pain he’d become accustomed to having in his gut disappeared. Gone for good.

  Her pretty brown eyes sparkled, and a light flush covered her high cheekbones.

  Deke gripped her harder, sheathed to the root, feeling as close to heaven as he’d ever get. “I won’t let you down,” he said softly, leaning over to brush his mouth across hers. Soft as petals, her lips opened under his, taking him. This petite woman had owned his heart since he was sixteen years old and a newcomer to her country, and she’d never given it back.

  He pulled out and gently worked his way back inside her. Where he belonged.

  She gasped, and her thighs trembled around his hips. He grinned and leaned down to suck one pink nipple into his mouth. Her curves had filled out in the years they’d been apart, but during the last few weeks, she’d lost weight from stress. As her husband, he’d do a much better job of taking care of her this time.

  Steam rose around them in a cocoon of intimacy.

  He licked down her shoulder and over her breasts again. The second he scraped a nipple, she rippled around his dick. His groan mingled with hers. She clasped him tighter with her legs, and he slid out and then back in. Harder this time.

  Sharp nails scraped his chest, and sparks lit his balls.

  There were so many things he needed to say to her, so many decisions to be made. But at the heart of it all was right now. He wanted the night, and he needed to make her his. For good this time, no matter what the future held. They’d been married, and while he’d aroused her by promising a consummation, the primal male deep inside him wanted that union. Proof that they were man and wife.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her head rested back on the tile. “Deacan,” she moaned.

  The sound torpedoed right to his heart, blowing it wide open. For her. He thrust harder, holding her up, tilting her pelvis to take more of him. He’d tried. God, he’d tried to be somebody else. To have a quiet life and be a quiet man.

  That was over, and he figured they both knew it. Even so, the words would come later.

  Now he fully intended to claim her and go deep enough she’d never be free of him.

  Electricity burned down his spine. He released her hair to flatten a hand against the tile by her head, hammering inside her, his
mind blanking. Only here and now mattered. Only this woman forever.

  Little ripples cascaded inside her, milking him. He pounded faster, and her body arched against his. She opened her mouth and cried out his name, vibrations moving through her to grab his cock and hold on tight.

  He shoved hard, holding her to him, and exploded.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Morning light filled the office at the CDC, and Nora readjusted her weight on the chair and bit back a wince. The previous night had been wild, and they’d certainly consummated their marriage.

  Three times. Enough that the soreness extended to places inside her she hadn’t realized could become sore.

  Yet they hadn’t talked. The night had overcome them, and they’d run with it, finally succumbing to sleep. Deke had been called to the office early in the morning to update the White House, and he’d dropped her off at the CDC labs, which were nearly in lockdown.

  Experts milled around the building, ranging from CDC health workers to FBI agents to MPD. The CDC was about to hold a press conference and announce the truth, finally.

  At the moment, as they tried to contain the infection, the world seemed to be holding its breath.

  Whether it knew it or not.

  She glanced at the newest printout on her desk. Several of Zach’s local victims, including the first one, Mandy, had died from Scorpius. Her shoulders slumped.

  Nora’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up. “Yes?”

  “Nora? It’s Bobbi.”

  Nora sighed. She’d taken over for Lynne as the head of infectious diseases and had left Bobbi in the lab cataloging results. “Hi, Bobbi. Have you finished with the new samples?” The test results from the previous week were dismal, so she’d kept systematically trying different methods and different materials for the nanoparticles. They’d also tried using several different catalysts to get antibiotics through Scorpius’s protein shell, and the results should be ready soon.

  “Um, yeah, but well, we have a problem.”

  Nora lifted her head. “Define problem.”

  “Two vials of altered Scorpius, the new green strain, are gone. No record, no transfer . . . nothing.”