She disconnected and swore.
“He’s been there and left?” Lex asked.
“Yes. Gus didn’t catch a name or the make of the car, much less the license plate. He lives about a quarter of a mile off the road and has a gate at the end of his drive to discourage trespassers. Bastard parked there and walked in, despite the signs.” She heaved a breath. “He’s lucky Gus didn’t shoot him. He was within his rights.”
“Bastard?”
“That’s what I’ve been calling him,” she said, feeling suddenly hopeless. “In the absence of a name, that one fits pretty well, don’t you think?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been calling him Asshole.”
“Let’s combine them,” she suggested. “Asshole Bastard is pretty damned fitting.”
Lex heaved a breath. “Asshole Bastard it is, then. So where is he going next?”
“Valdosta, I think,” she said. “But I could be wrong. This is just assuming that he covers the southern points first, then circles around. Whether he’ll head east or west remains to be seen and, unfortunately, we’re not going to know until he turns up somewhere.” Honestly, without a name or the make of a vehicle or any other sort of lead, they were at this guy’s mercy.
“Then you’ll need to alert your clients on each side.”
She growled low in her throat. “This is just so damned frustrating. I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”
“Have you ever inadvertently put a picture of a rare hundred-thousand-dollar item on your website before?” he asked.
“No,” she said, knowing he was trying to make her feel better. In all truthfulness, she couldn’t have anticipated this so there was no way she could have prevented it. Still… So many of her clients were elderly and lived alone. Burt Augustine had already gotten assaulted by this son of a bitch and had his place searched while he lay helpless on the floor. And whether it was logical or not, it felt like her fault.
“We’re what? Three hours from Valdosta?”
“Give or take thirty minutes,” she said.
“Call your client and let them know he could be on his way, then plug the address into the GPS and we’ll head there, too.”
“We’re going to be too late again.”
“Possibly,” he admitted. “But we know where he was and we’ll keep going until we get close enough to catch him.”
She sighed and shot him a look. “You sound so confident.”
“That’s because I am,” he said, flashing her a smile. “Have a little faith.”
“Because you’re a former Ranger? Because you’re one of the most highly trained soldiers on the planet? A bonafide badass?” she drawled.
He blinked and slid her a look, his decadent lips twitching with humor. “Yes,” he said with a humble nod. “But I wasn’t going to say it.”
“Not to worry,” she said. “Payne told me.” She paused. “He said you’d come out of the military because of an injury.” She was prying again, but she was curious. Too curious.
He didn’t move a muscle, but she felt him flinch all the same. “I did.” He waited a beat. “I got hit,” he said, though it was clear he didn’t want to tell her anything about it. “In the shoulder.”
She winced and resisted the urge to touch him, to offer comfort. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s better than it was, but probably as good as it’s going to get.” He jerked his head toward the dog. “That’s where I found Honey. She was sitting outside the rehab clinic, almost like she was waiting for me,” he told her, laughing softly. “Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all,” she said, looking at the dog with much more appreciation. She had a sneaking suspicion this animal had somehow known how much Lex had needed something to love, to take his mind off his injury. “And this job at Ranger Security is your first since you came out of the military?”
“It is,” he said with a nod. “Which should give you even more comfort, because I can’t afford to screw it up.”
She chuckled and cocked her head. “Actually, I find that very reassuring.”
“Good to know that my pressure to perform eases your mind,” he drawled, a smile in his voice.
“Payne would probably fire you if you messed this up,” she went on, needling him. “He’s a friend of mine, you know.”
He struggled to hide a smile. “I am aware of that, yes.”
“So between screwing up and disappointing me, he’d be very displeased with you.” She grinned at him, tsked low under her breath. “You’re in a terrible position. You have to sort this out.”
“I know,” Lex said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Believe me, I am well aware of what’s at stake here.”
“He almost thinks of me like a little sister,” she went on. “Like I’m family.”
He slid her a sidelong glance. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much, you know that?”
She merely smiled. “Hey, at this point I’ve got to take my pleasure where I can get it.”
There was a pregnant silence in the car and she immediately regretted her choice of words. They had sexual connotation that she’d hadn’t meant, but she could hardly say anything, otherwise she’d just be drawing even more attention to them.
Shit.
She felt his gaze drift over her legs, up her hip, along her side and over her breasts. She could practically feel that gaze like a caress, like a blue flame sliding over her. She felt it drift over her neck, her jaw and mouth and she absently licked her lips, getting warmer and more muddled by the second.
Her nipples tingled behind her bra and a deep throb built low in her belly, then drifted farther down until she had to gently press her legs together to relieve a bit of the pressure.
He saw her squirm, and a lazy smile so wicked she should have melted beneath it drifted over his beautiful mouth.
“We all have to take our pleasure where we can get it,” he drawled, his voice pure sin.
And she knew he’d just gotten his.
5
LEX TOOK ADVANTAGE OF Bess’s need for a bathroom break to pour Honey a bowl of water and then walk her over to a grassy area next to the convenience store to do her own necessary business.
“You’re a good traveler,” he told her, rubbing her between her ears when she was done. She’d made the drive over from Alabama with him and had been fine—he’d gone home to see his family before coming to Atlanta—so he’d been pretty confident that she wouldn’t get carsick or whine. But it was nice to know that this was going to be an option, that when the assignment fit, he could take her with him.
Bess strolled toward them and gestured to the packet of beef jerky in her hand. “I got this for Honey,” she said. “Is it all right if she has it?”
He grinned. “You will earn an eternal spot in her heart if you let her have that,” he said.
Bess grinned and, smiling, opened the package, squatted down and offered the treat to Honey, who, smelling food, immediately walked forward and took it. She gulped the jerky down in one bite, then wagged her tail and looked expectantly at Bess.
Bess laughed. “I’ll give you more later,” she said, her warm gaze lingering on the animal. “Can’t have your stomach getting upset.”
“No,” Lex agreed with a significant grimace. “That wouldn’t be fun at all.”
“You mean for you or her?”
“Both.”
Another smile curled her lips and she reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew a package of peanuts and a bottle of Coke. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “I wasn’t sure what sort of snack you liked, so I went with a Southern staple.”
“Peanuts and Coke?” he asked, grinning. He hadn’t had that in years, but could clearly remember his grandfather dumping salted peanuts into the old glass Coca-Cola bottles.
“Yep. Protein and sugar,” she said. “A power combo.”
Considering that they weren’t going to have time to stop for lunch, he thought she’d made a wise choice. With any luck they’d
close the bulk of the distance today and catch up to the guy tomorrow. Payne had alerted the proper authorities and they knew that one of his agents would be bringing the guy in so that he could answer for the theft at Bess’s store. Needless to say, the authorities hadn’t had a problem with the arrangement. Lex had everything he needed to transport their prisoner and was more than confident that he’d be able to handle him, whoever he turned out to be. The idea of enemy fire still made his heart race and a chill dread invade his limbs, but a bully? One who picked on the elderly? He actually looked forward to getting his hands on the guy.
They headed back to the car and got on the road again. Bess opened her own drink and then immediately started looking over another list, different from the one they were following. His curiosity piqued, he asked the obvious question.
“What’s that you’re looking at?”
“It’s a list.”
“I worked that out for myself, thanks. What kind of list?”
“It’s strictly a list of clients I buy from,” she said. “Our thief is working from the master list, so when he turns up at someone’s house he doesn’t know whether he’s going to a client I’ve bought something from or one that I’ve sold something to.”
That was a handy little bit of information. “How did that happen?”
“This file was on my laptop,” she explained. “I’d been working on it, trying to update and better organize it. I’m going to—”
“You know what you should do?” he interrupted her, seeing an opportunity here to assert his authority and to annoy her at the same time. “You should denote those addresses on the map, as well, so that we know whether he’s at a buyer’s place that can potentially yield a result.”
Her brow knitted. “That’s exactly what I was about to say.”
He knew. That’s why he’d said it. First.
He offered her a mildly patronizing smile, payback for her previous preemptive planning, and watched her pretty eyes narrow fractionally with irritation. “Is this place in Valdosta a possible location for the book?” he asked, deciding a subject change was in order.
“No,” she said. “This gentleman has a family restaurant and he’s bought a lot of things from me to outfit the place. Old washboards and mirrors, bits of farm equipment and cast-iron pots and pans. That sort of thing.”
“You probably sell a lot to designers, as well, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I do. You’d be amazed at how they can repurpose things. I’ve got one decorator who bought a cigar cabinet from me and made it into a make-up vanity for a client. And claw-foot tubs installed in courtyards or back porches are getting more popular, as well.” She paused. “I actually have mine on my screened-in back porch.”
His mouth went instantly dry and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Soft wet skin, sleek dark red hair, pebbled rosy-tipped breasts, a thatch of dark curls between creamy white thighs…
He needed a moment.
Lex cleared his throat. “You bathe on your back porch?”
“It’s not as scandalous as it sounds,” she said, her cheeks pinkening prettily. “I have lots of plants both on the porch and around my yard and there’s a privacy fence.”
Fences could be scaled, and no amount of foliage—unless she’d turned her back garden into a jungle—would keep out determined prying eyes.
“It’s nice,” she said. “In the winter I fill it up with hot water and soak to get warm and in the summer I switch to cold water to cool down. Each season offers something to enjoy. In the winter I build a fire in my chiminea and sip hot chocolate. When August rolls around, I turn on the ceiling fans and make lemonade, then watch the hummingbirds swarm my feeders.”
He had to admit that sounded nice, but he was having trouble thinking about anything other than her wet naked body and what he’d like to do with it. “Your house doesn’t have climate control?”
She smiled. “It does, but I like being outside.”
“Naked.”
Another soft breeze of laughter. “No one can see me, Lex,” she said. “It’s not like I’m walking down a public street.”
He felt a chuckle break up in his throat and more heat pooled in his groin. “No doubt that would stop traffic.”
“Elsie would, too,” she said.
He grimaced dramatically and swore. “Thanks for putting that image in my head. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
She blinked innocently. “What would make you think that?”
“Because I’m beginning to understand the way your mind works,” he said. “And it’s just as twisted as your sense of humor.”
She nodded primly. “Thank you.”
He snorted and shot her a look. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“More than I expected,” she admitted.
That small remark burrowed into his chest and settled warmly. He glanced at her again, seemingly incapable of not looking at her. He especially liked the smooth skin next to her eyes, the way her lashes curled and cast shadows around them. “You’re not what I expected, either, you know.”
She rolled her eyes and her lips twisted with droll humor. “Yeah. You expected Elsie.”
“It was your name,” he admitted. “I just assumed it would—”
“Belong to an old woman,” she finished with a sigh. “It’s short for Elizabeth. Both my mother and grandmother had the name. My grandmother’s was shortened to Liz, my mother’s to Beth. My dad wanted me to have the name, but use a different variation thereof, so I became Bess.”
“It suits you,” Lex told her, knowing it was true. “It’s different and old-fashioned. You don’t hear it often anymore.”
“I can’t believe Brian didn’t tell you,” she said.
It was so bizarre hearing her use Brian’s given name. Lex imagined his wife, whom he’d only met briefly, called him that, but Jamie, Guy, Huck, Will and the rest of the guys all called him Payne.
A bark of laughter came from his throat. “Oh, it wasn’t an oversight,” he said, shooting her a look. “It was a joke and it was on me.”
“Ahhh,” she said, comprehension dawning. “You jumped to the wrong conclusion and, rather than him clearing it up, he just let you keep thinking it.” Her smile turned admiring. “Score one for Brian.”
“You don’t have to sound so impressed.”
She shrugged helplessly. “Maybe not, but I am.”
“Security agent doubling as entertainment.” He sighed. “That’s a sorry state of events right there.”
“It’s working for me,” she said, looking out the window once again.
He chuckled and shook his head. Then that made two of them, Lex thought. Because he was having entirely too much fun. And if she wanted him to really entertain her, then he’d be more than happy to oblige.
Although he imagined Brian wouldn’t appreciate that at all.
Lex was supposed to be catching a potential thief and finding a Wicked Bible, not getting to know Bess Cantrell in the wickedly biblical sense.
But he seriously doubted that was going to stop him. The tug between them—the sheer magnitude of the attraction—was simply mind-boggling. Utterly out of the realm of his experience. Her very breath resonated deep within him, making him aware of the rise and fall of her chest, the steady beat of her heart, every bit of air that moved between her lips. It was need in its purest form, distilled into something so potent he could scarcely think for being aware of her.
He was doomed, Lex thought, and looking forward to his own destruction.
“HE HASN’T BEEN HERE,” Chester Herman said hours later when they’d arrived in Valdosta. “I’ve been looking for him, too,” the older gentleman told them.
Bess tried not to show her dismay, but had to admit she was feeling damned disappointed. She’d been certain that Bastard was going to show up at Chester’s.
She accepted the cup of coffee Chester offered her and took a seat at his kitchen table. She smelled fresh bread in the ove
n and a hickory fire burned merrily in the small cast-iron stove, spreading a cozy warmth through out the room.
Lex had taken her map and lists and, at Chester’s nod, spread them on the table to review them himself. Though it was ridiculous, she found herself smiling when she saw his lips moving as he read. Of course, she’d be interested in what his lips were doing regardless, because she loved everything about them, was utterly fascinated by them.
The overhead light cast a bright glow on his face, illuminating one cheek in harsh relief and creating a shadow beneath. She followed his jawline with her gaze and lingered over his neck, the masculine strength she saw there. She wanted to kiss that place, to taste the muscles along his throat, and she felt the air thin in her lungs as she imagined doing just that.
He looked up at her then, a smile in his intriguing blue eyes, and she saw a mild bit of satisfaction flash in their depths.
“Want some coffee?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
Rather than continue to stare at him like a kid with her nose pressed against the glass of the candy shop, she turned her attention to Chester.
“Bought anything interesting lately, Chester?”
His eyes twinkled. “Actually, there was something I wanted to show you.” He jerked his head toward the living room, then looked at Lex.
Lex gestured to the maps. “I’ll be fine in here if it’s all right with you,” he said. He reached down and absently rubbed a hand over Honey’s head. Lex had offered to leave her in the car, but Chester, a dog lover himself, insisted that he bring her in out of the cold.
Chester nodded and motioned her on. Much like her grandfather, the older man had been a widower for almost as long as he’d been married. There were small touches throughout his house where she noticed a feminine influence—doilies on the top of the piano, a pretty floral lamp next to the recliner, the occasional porcelain figurines—but for the most part, Chester had reclaimed the house. He used a fishing bobber for a ceiling fan pull, and the furniture he’d bought had been chosen with an eye toward comfort and not aesthetics.
She knew instantly what he’d added since her last visit and gasped. “A Victrola,” she breathed. She walked forward and slid a finger over the smooth wood. “Mahogany, too. Does it play?”
The Survivor Page 5