The Sharpshooter's Secret Son
Page 2
He couldn’t move.
He wasn’t in bed. He sure wasn’t in bed with Mindy. That hadn’t happened in a long, long time.
So where the hell was he?
More shards of reality ripped through his brain. The flash of gunpowder. The biting sting in his cheek.
He forced his eyes open. It was dark. Totally dark.
Danger! His heart rate skyrocketed and his Special Forces training kicked in.
Judging by the way his head wobbled like a bobble-head doll, he figured he’d been drugged. He clenched his jaw and worked to gather his thoughts.
The gunpowder. The sting. He’d been shot with a tranquilizer gun. Ah, hell.
He bit down on his tongue, using the pain to clear his brain. Giving in to drugs—or fatigue, or torture—in combat rescue missions could be fatal. Not only to the rescuer, but also to the innocents depending on him for their safety, their protection, their very lives.
Before he could help anyone else, he had to assess his own condition. He needed to take inventory.
Blood? No stickiness or wet warmth.
Broken bones? He shifted enough that his arms ached and his legs cramped. No.
Other injuries? Nope. Just the sting from the tranq dart. That and the drug it had delivered.
Location? Somewhere dark and damp.
Position? Tied up—arms behind his back, and gagged. He pushed his dry tongue against the cloth in his mouth. Gagged tight. Then, gingerly, he moved his legs—and nearly fell off the crate.
That explained the cramps. His ankles were tied.
Mission? Not quite as easy. What was he doing here, tied up and drugged?
“Eee!”
Mindy. Her voice ripped the haze from his brain. That was it. He’d come here to rescue her. Novus Ordo had kidnapped her to get to him.
Her soft warmth was close—way too close for comfort. Her shoulder was touching his. Judging by her restricted movements and incoherent mutterings, she was tied up and gagged, too.
He wanted to reassure her, but that would be a waste of breath with the gag in his mouth. So he spent his energy getting rid of it. He rubbed his mouth and chin against his shoulder, not easy with his hands tethered behind his back.
His neck and jaw ached like a sonofabitch, and the skin on his chin was raw by the time the cloth peeled away from his tongue and lips.
His throat was too dry to swallow. “Mindy? You all right?” he croaked.
Her answer was a frustrated growl.
“Okay, okay, just a second.” He scooted closer and twisted until he was leaning heavily against her shoulder.
Another not-so-good idea. But this time it was because he got a whiff of that tangerine bath stuff she always used. He bent his head and nuzzled her cheek, feeling for her gag with his mouth.
Soft, warm, tangerine sweetness. That solved the dry-mouth issue. Her familiar scent made his mouth water and his body tighten in immediate, familiar response. He clenched his jaw and swallowed a groan of frustration. Sex had never been the problem between them.
It sure as hell hadn’t been the solution.
Mindy stiffened at his frustrated moan, slamming his brain with a harsh reminder that this wasn’t old times, it was deadly serious.
But she didn’t lash out at him or try to move away. In fact, she angled her head to give him better access to the cloth that gagged her.
He bit and tugged at it with his teeth until it began to loosen. He tried to hold his breath, tried to ignore the soft, sensual tickle of her hair against his nose and cheek.
After a lot of tugging and nibbling and some extremely uncomfortable brushing of his mouth against her lips, cheeks and chin, he finally got her gag loose.
When he straightened, his head felt clearer, although wherever they were was dark as the cargo hold of a C17 transport plane at midnight. The only light was pitifully dim and came from a window high above their heads.
The smell of mildew and dirt chased away Mindy’s familiar, evocative scent.
“Basement,” he muttered. They had to be in a basement.
Mindy groaned and wriggled against him.
“Min? Are you okay?” he asked, squinting in the darkness. He could barely make out the silhouette of her face. Her dark clothes blended into a pool of shadows just below her shoulders. “Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Just practically broke my arms when he tied me up.” Her normally husky voice was soft and raspy.
And sexy as hell.
Deke cursed to himself. What a chump he was. After all this time, his ex-wife could still turn him on just by talking.
She coughed. “By the way, thanks for involving me in your little adventure.”
And she could still tick him off.
He took a deep breath and winced when the blast of air sent a piercing ache through his temples. “Here we go again,” he muttered.
“Don’t even try to tell me this doesn’t involve one of your rescues,” she rasped.
“You think I’d put you in danger if I could help it?”
“What I think is that you’ve gotten yourself in over your head again. You’re never going to learn that you can’t save everybody. And even if you could, it wouldn’t fill up that hole inside you.”
Deke grimaced. It was an old argument, and he’d be damned if he let her lead him down that road again.
He raised his gaze to hers and curved his lips in a confident smile, prepared to give her back a smart retort. But even in the dimness he could see the fear that darkened her olive-green eyes. The same fear he’d heard in her voice. It knocked the confidence right out of him.
“Min, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t sound too good.”
She focused on a point somewhere behind him and to his left. Then she arched her neck, and sonofagun if she didn’t stick the tip of her pink tongue out to moisten her lips.
Do not go there, he ordered his brain. But it went there anyhow—to all the amazing things Mindy could do with her tongue. Not the least of which was cut him down to size with a well-chosen word.
“I’m—okay,” she rasped, then coughed again.
He knew how she felt. Her throat sounded as dry and sore as his. “What the hell happened? How’d they kidnap you?”
“I got a call about some—something addressed to me that had been delivered to the wrong place.” Her voice gained a bit of strength as she talked. “When I went to pick it up, they grabbed me.”
“Damn it, how many times have I told you—don’t go to strange places alone. You know how dangerous it can be.”
“Right,” she croaked. “Because of your dangerous profession. Well, silly me. Since we’ve been divorced for two years I was kind of hoping your danger wouldn’t rub off on me anymore.” Her hand went to her throat.
“Besides, this was a young woman. She told me she was also pr—” She stopped.
“Also what?”
After a split-second pause and a brief shake of her head, she continued: “She said a store had delivered some things to her by mistake. They were addressed to me. She asked if I could pick them up because she was—ill.”
“Damn it, Min. That’s an obvious scam. I can’t believe you fell for it.”
“Would you listen to me?” she snapped. “She said the sender’s name was Irina.”
Deke’s scalp prickled. More proof that Novus had deliberately targeted Mindy. He’d expected it, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
“The girl said that?”
She nodded. “I should have been suspicious, because Irina wouldn’t know—I mean, there’s no reason she’d send me a b—a gift out of the blue.”
“What’s the matter with you? Did they drug you, too? You sound strange.”
“As soon as the door opened, somebody dragged me inside and stuck something in my neck. The next thing I knew, I woke up here.”
“Did you get a look at them?”
“No. I was blindfolded until they brought you in this morning. He took my
blindfold off right before he left. I never saw him.”
“But it was a man? What did he tell you? Anything? What made you think it had anything to do with me?”
Mindy made a small, impatient noise. He knew the look she was wearing, as well as if she were standing in a spotlight. He’d seen it too many times before. It was her do not treat me like an idiot scowl.
“What made me—? Maybe because I’ve never done anything that would cause anyone to kidnap me. You, on the other hand—”
“Me what?” His evasion was automatic. He’d practiced evading the truth from the time he could talk. It was ingrained in him—part of his survival tactic.
But he knew she was right. He’d done plenty in his lifetime that might make him the target of revenge. Not the least of which had been just two years ago.
A lot of people, including Mindy, would want his head on a pike if they knew what he’d done—for and to his best friend. His only friend.
However, what a lot of people thought meant nothing. He’d do it again. That and more, for the one man who’d always believed in him—who’d trusted his life to him.
His life and his death.
I just hope your sacrifice wasn’t in vain, Rook. Because here they were battling Novus Ordo again. And this time he wasn’t going to give up.
“Okay, fine,” he snapped at Mindy. “Supposing for the moment that I’ve screwed up your life yet again. I can’t change that. But I can do my best to get us out of here. I promise, as soon as I can manage it, I’ll get you back to the normal, safe life you like so much.”
Chapter Two
If her mouth didn’t hurt so much, she’d smile at Deke’s words, Mindy thought. The normal, safe life you like so much.
She’d give anything for normal and safe right now.
But as usual when Deke was around, normal and safe had left the building.
His words were on target. She’d loved him most of her life, and loving Deke wasn’t exactly a recipe for normal. Certainly not for safe.
Loving Deke was a recipe for disaster. Not that her heart cared. Nor her body. He’d always been the sexiest thing on the planet. From his sun-streaked brown hair to his startling sea-blue eyes. From the hard line of his jaw to his broad, leanly muscled shoulders. Even his battered shearling jacket couldn’t hide the power and grace of his six-feet-plus body.
A wave of nausea reminded her that this was no time to be ogling her ex-husband. She swallowed against the queasiness that was fast overtaking her. It had plagued her ever since the moment yesterday morning when she’d rapped on the apartment door. Even before the door opened, she knew she’d made a mistake.
Deke had warned her often enough not to wander around strange places by herself. But the message had been so simple, so innocent sounding.
Hi. Mindy Cunningham? I just received a delivery from Babies First that belongs to you. It’s from an Irene or Irina Castle. I’d bring it to you, but I’m on bed rest for the last month of my pregnancy. Can you pick it up?
When she got to the address, the person who opened the door wasn’t a pregnant woman. Wasn’t even a woman. It was a man. Something about him—the expression on his face or the gleam in his eyes—confirmed that she’d screwed up.
Before she could react, he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, slamming the door behind her. Then he’d shoved her up against a wall and stuck something into the back of her neck.
He’d drugged her.
She was terrified that whatever he’d given her might hurt the baby. It was her worst fear—that something might happen to her little Sprout.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Sprout kicked. She rubbed her tummy and smiled sadly.
Until she’d acquired this tiny passenger that depended on her for his very life, she’d have said her worst fear was that she’d never be able to get over the man sitting next to her.
Deke Cunningham, air force veteran, sharpshooter, alcoholic, adventurer and ex-husband.
Once their divorce was final, her plan had been to never see him again. But the best-laid plans…
Just over eight months ago, he’d come to her mother’s funeral. One of about three times in his life she’d seen him in a suit. He’d been handsome as a GQ model, and more gentle, sweet and protective than he’d ever been before.
For that one night, he was the man she’d always known he could be.
At the end of the evening he was still there, at her house. Just to make sure she was okay, he’d said.
When he got up to leave, somehow she’d asked him to stay. They’d somehow ended up in the bed, and she’d somehow ended up pregnant.
So much for getting over him.
“Mindy, you’re not okay. They hurt you, didn’t they?”
His voice was controlled—barely, but that was all about him that was. His intensity and anger washed over her like scalding hot water. Anger, not at her, but on her behalf.
“No, I’m not injured. Just tired and hurting.”
He’d never understood why she hadn’t wanted him to be angry for her. He’d never realized that his anger—even when it wasn’t directed at her—still scared her.
And that was why, although he needed to know what he was up against—deserved to—she couldn’t tell him. Not until she absolutely had to.
Like the coward she was, she planned to put off that revelation as long as she possibly could, because scalding water didn’t begin to describe what Deke would throw at her when he found out she was pregnant—with his child.
“Deke, we’ve got to get out of here. The guy told me he’d be watching me. He’ll be back anytime.”
“Yeah, we do. Can you move? Turn around. Let me see your hands.”
Could she move? Hah. Not too well, she wanted to answer. Like an overloaded supply plane, she was carrying heavy on the front end.
She twisted until her back was to him, working to suppress the grunts and groans that went with everything she did these days.
By the time he said “That’s good,” she was breathing hard.
“Min, are you sure you’re okay?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “It’s the drug,” she said as evenly as she could. “It’s making me light-headed. And I’m hungry.”
He chuckled. “No surprise there.”
Mindy bit her lip against the poignant memories that bombarded her. The sweet teasing, the tickling matches, the kisses. Dear heavens, she’d missed him. It didn’t matter how many times her head reminded her heart that they were as compatible as jet fuel and an ignition source.
He twisted on the wooden crate until he was facing her back. Then he bent double to look at the ropes binding her hands.
He uttered a short burst of colorful curses. “Damn it, I can’t see anything.”
“Can you bite them like you did the gag?”
He sniffed in disdain. “My teeth aren’t that good. Stay still.”
Mindy waited. It soon became obvious that Deke was scooting around until his back was to hers. Then he shifted closer and twisted some more, until they were pressed together like bookends.
She felt his hands on hers, big, warm, protective, as they explored the ropes.
He let go a string of colorful curses. “…Those sons of bitches,” he finished.
Mindy’s pulse skittered. “What is it Deke? What’s wrong?”
“Nobody’s this stupid. Everything about this, from the moment you called, has been too easy,” he muttered. “Too pat.”
“Too easy? How is this easy?”
“They used your phone. Didn’t even bother to keep the call short. Like they were telegraphing their location. And now, these knots are just strong enough to be frustrating. If he’d wanted to, he could have used knots I’d never be able to untie.”
“That makes sense,” she rasped. “I tried to warn you that it was a trap to lure you here.”
“Trust me. I’d already figured that out.”
Deke’s hands moved over hers, touching and ma
nipulating as he worked to loosen the knots.
“Ow!”
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. My thumb got a little twisted.”
“I’m almost done.”
She listened to his labored breathing as he worked. “Deke, why do they want you? You know who they are, don’t you?”
She winced as the knots began to loosen and the circulation increased in her fingers. “This is connected to a case, isn’t it?”
He shook his head. She had her back to him and she knew he’d done it. Was it a movement of the air, a rustle of his clothing? Or was it the connection they’d always shared? Even when they couldn’t share their dreams or their heartbreaks.
“I’m not on a case right now. I’m trying to stick close to the ranch. Irina’s not doing well. She’s stopped searching for Rook.”
“What? Oh, Deke. I can’t believe she’d ever—Did she find out something?”
“Ran out of money.” He pushed air out between his clenched teeth, a sure sign he was frustrated about something.
“She stopped because of money?”
“She either had to stop the search or fire at least two specialists and cut back on voluntary cases.”
His fingers strained against hers as he picked at one of the knots. His breath hitched and he grunted quietly.
Mindy knew what he was feeling. His arms were tied behind his back, just like hers were, and she couldn’t even imagine the pain in his wrists from working against the stiff ropes. She wanted to say something, to at least acknowledge the pain he was going through. But Deke Cunningham would never admit pain. Not pain. Not hurt. Not heartache.
“But Rook’s her husband. I can’t believe she’d quit for any reason. I’d never—” she stopped, biting her tongue—literally. Never give up was what she’d been about to say.
But she had. She’d given up on them.
“Well, she did.” Deke’s curt answer told her that he hadn’t missed what she’d almost said. His breath hissed out between his teeth again. A sure sign that he was hurting.
Not knowing what else to say, she kept talking about Irina Castle. Maybe if he got irritated enough with her, it would distract him from the pain in his wrists.