Midnight Renegade (Men of Midnight Book 7)

by Lisa Marie Rice

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re — you’re smiling.” Not a big smile but definitely a tilting up of his mouth. A slight dent in his cheeks which in a lesser man might be dimples. The first real smile she’d seen.

  “Am not.” Said with a straight face.

  “Are too.” She huffed out a little laugh. Her first laugh since she’d arrived.

  It felt good.

  Nothing had changed. She’d been abducted, had almost died escaping, she had to stay under the radar for who knew how long. But she was alive. Alive and in the company of a very vital and attractive man who made her heart beat faster. A man she’d had sex with and judging by his look and what she felt, would have sex with again. Very soon.

  Not only that. They were in some kind of luxury stronghold that not even alien forces could penetrate, as safe as safe as could be.

  Matt lifted his hand, stroked her cheek. His hand left warmth in its wake, a little streak of heat. “Good to see you smiling.”

  “Yeah.” Her throat tightened. So many things she wanted to say. Thank you for risking your life to save mine. Thank you for doing so much to solve the riddle of my abduction. Thank you for all the amazing people willing to help. But the only thing that came out was, “I’m alive.”

  Such a stupid thing, it didn’t express a billionth of what she wanted to say. But somehow it made sense to Matt. He nodded. “You surely are.” He turned at the sound of the microwave dinging. “Let’s keep you that way. First, food.”

  Yesterday it had taxed her to cross the Great Hall. She’d been tired by the time she made it across. Now it had felt normal, just a pleasant walk, made even more pleasant by her hand in the crook of his arm.

  “Wow.” She looked up at Matt. “You know, I don’t feel exhausted. I feel pleasantly tired but not like I want to curl up on the floor, like yesterday.”

  “I’m really glad. You’re recovering very fast.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a SpecOps soldier? A SEAL?”

  She smiled. “Nope. I’m not a strong swimmer at all and my idea of strenuous exercise is walking to the corner coffee shop. You’d probably consider me a real wimp.”

  That wiped the smile off his face. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it. “I think any woman who managed to get away from kidnappers who’d shackled and drugged her is anything but a wimp. I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”

  She wanted to scoff but his dark eyes were so serious. It felt like he was looking right into her and that he liked what he saw.

  She blushed.

  Dear sweet God. She seemed to be blushing all the time. Honor never blushed. She was an emergency-room physician, for heaven’s sake. Her daily job was getting up to her elbows in gore and blood. She’d heard it all and she’d seen it all.

  Good sex had changed her.

  For some reason sex and attraction had fled from her life. A series of small steps had just whittled her life down to work and home. Her best friend at the hospital, a thoracic surgeon, had left three months ago and Honor still missed her. There wasn’t anyone else she’d want to go out with on a Saturday night for a drink or two.

  The men — they were as tired as she was and lately the hospital administration had hired only unattractive ones, screening them for lack of sex appeal. Or at least that was what it felt like.

  It had been a long time since she’d felt that tug of desire, that flutter inside.

  And so she blushed.

  It wasn’t anything serious. Honor knew the mechanism inside out. Matt triggered a response that caused her glands to release adrenaline in her body. In reaction, her nervous system caused the capillaries carrying blood to her skin to widen, coming closer to the surface of the skin. Making her blush.

  No big deal.

  She glanced up at him to see if he’d noticed but he went back to the kitchen island. Inside, she blew a breath of relief. He hadn’t noticed. Good.

  “So I chose the breakfast menu. Or rather brunch, since you slept in,” he said as he put food on the table. It was set with a pretty pale yellow cotton tablecloth and thick brown earthenware dishes. “Eggplant parmesan, focaccia and then later homemade blueberry ice cream. But that’s the last time I choose. From now on, I’ll just get you the spreadsheet and you choose what you want to eat. So far I’ve chosen Italian because I like Italian, but there’s every single cuisine here. Your choice from now on. How does that sound?”

  He was looking down at her with a slight frown, as if she might possibly object.

  “Sounds great.”

  His face cleared. “Good. Now I’ll …” the microwave sounded again. “There we go. My work here is done.”

  He put a huge ceramic serving dish of steaming eggplant parmesan, oozing tomato sauce and melted cheese, in the middle of the table.

  The smell was almost overwhelming.

  “Fat and carbs,” she sighed. “Two of the major food groups.”

  “Yep.” He cut her a humongous slice. “And later we’ll have sugar. All the bases covered.”

  She was about to protest the size of the serving he heaped on her plate, expecting her stomach to close up. But nope. It just opened wide, all but curling its virtual fingers. Gimme gimme.

  Another ding and Matt got up to get the focaccia out of the oven. Oh man, it was almost more awesome than the eggplant parmesan. Crispy gold, with flakes of sea salt, glistening with olive oil. That wonderful smell of hot bread. Matt tore off a big piece and handed it to her. She picked it up then immediately dropped it. It was piping hot.

  Matt hadn’t even noticed how hot it was when handling the focaccia. Without thinking, she picked up his big hand, turning it over, palm up. His hand was covered in calluses. He sat quietly while she traced some of them with her index finger.

  “What do you do to have calluses like this?” Her gaze met his and like magnets meeting, there was an extraordinary moment of connection. This was a closed man who had decided to open up to her. His entire big body was built for battle. She imagined he didn’t give up control easily. But here he was — his hand in hers, eyes fixed on hers, seemingly open to any question she had.

  Her hand curled around his. It was warm and large and very very strong, with raised veins on the back.

  “Matt?”

  He’d been staring at her eyes intently and he suddenly seemed to come back into himself. Glancing at his hand, he gave a half smile.

  “Well, let’s see.” He traced thick calluses on the side of his fists. “Those are karate calluses.”

  She traced them too. Hard tissue. Calluses came about by repeated pressure or friction which caused the skin to die and reform until it created a hard, protective surface. To create calluses like these would have required repeated pressure. If it was because of karate exercises, then repeated blows. “And these?”

  Her finger traced the top part of his palm.

  “Basically, carrying things. We hump a lot of crap in the field. Some on our backs but weapons have to be kept close.”

  She nodded, then frowned. He had heavy calluses in the webbing between thumb and forefinger. She tried to imagine anything that would create friction there but couldn’t. “And this?”

  He sighed. “Shooting practice. We shoot maybe fifty thousand rounds a year. It breaks the sensitive skin there, the skin scabs over, it’s broken again, scabs over until finally it gets really tough.”

  He was watching her carefully. Was he gauging her reaction?

  “Repetition,” she said. “The only way to learn. In medical school I spent about four hours a day every day practicing suture knots. I could do it in my sleep. Even now, under stress, my fingers twitch. I think it’s the autonomous nervous system, my fingers tying knots without me realizing it.”

  He was looking down at her, completely serious, unmoving.

  Honor cleared her throat. Glanced at the table. He looked a second away from kissing her and man, she was up for it.

  Then her
stomach growled.

  “Someone’s hungry,” he said. That intent look was gone.

  Someone was.

  Matt sat down opposite her, and she ate the entire huge serving of eggplant parmesan and a huge slice of focaccia.

  He kept pace, and stood when she’d mopped up the last of the tomato sauce with the bread.

  “Where are you going?” she called out to that broad back.

  He took something out of the freezer and grabbed two small bowls. “I promised you desert.”

  She was full. “Oh no. I couldn’t.”

  He placed a bowl with two scoops of blue ice cream in front of her. “Okay. But as a favor to me, just try a small spoonful of this. It’s homemade.”

  Put like that … Honor tried it and it was like eating fresh fruit only sweeter and creamy. God.

  “This is sinful. You say you have a bunch of this stuff?”

  Matt nodded. “Freezers full and several walk-in lockers. My guys believe in being prepared. Plus Isabel teaches classes up here and they freeze everything. Everything’s in a computer file. All of us could live up here for years and not starve.”

  Honor looked around at the beautiful space. The Great Hall was lit up, no natural light, but somehow glowing. “Almost makes you long for the zombie apocalypse, doesn’t it? Just … stay here with friends and eat well. But then I guess the food stocks would eventually run out.”

  “Maybe not.” Matt stood and carried the plates to the sink. He held out a big hand for her to remain seated. “They’re experimenting with hydroponics. If the zombies come, and if we’re willing to go vegan, we should be okay.”

  Honor drained the last of her glass of wine. Excellent wine. “Maybe wine making will cease.”

  “Maybe.” He stood next to her, a hand on her shoulder. The heavy weight of it felt good, reassuring. “I don’t know. But the wine cellars are pretty extensive. Take a lot of time to drink it. Even for us. Listen, I called in a buddy. He was an Army puke but we forgive him. He’s okay. Right now he’s a detective in the PPD. Will you talk to him? We can Skype on the big screen.”

  “Sure.” She looked up at him. “You trust him.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Absolutely.” He looked at her straight on, face sober. “With my life and with yours.”

  “That’s good enough for me.” They crossed the Great Hall and went into another stylish room that had a 60” flat screen on one wall. “Wait. You said he’s a detective ‘right now’. What does that mean?”

  Matt picked up a remote and switched the big screen on and sat down. He patted the cushion next to him and she obediently sat down. He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. Leaned into that warm strength. Oh God, this feeling was almost addictive. Of being protected and safe and excited, all at once.

  “His name is Luke. Luke Reynolds. Like I said, an Army puke, became a Ranger. We all cross-trained. He’s not bad for being Army.” Honor knew that Rangers were Special Operations soldiers like SEALs. “When he separated, he became a cop. A really good one. Medals up the wazoo, excellent recommendations, on his way up. Then he arrested the Sigma Phi Five. Cracked the case wide open.”

  Honor looked at Matt. The Sigma Phi Five. Sigma Phi was a fraternity at an expensive private college. A young girl had been found raped and then suffocated in a park six months ago. No clues, no leads. For a while, the rape and murder had been attributed to a homeless man who’d been camping out nearby, but there hadn’t been any forensic evidence linking him to the crime.

  And then five young men were arrested. The evidence against them was strong. All of them except one had very powerful fathers — two billionaire internet moguls, a Senator and a famous actor. The fifth was relatively poor, father a high school teacher. The fifth testified that the boys had met the young girl at a club, given her something to ‘make her happy’. They then took her to a nearby park and brutally raped her and suffocated her. The fifth young man wept bitterly as he recounted the story and said he didn’t take part in the rape. And there was no trace of his sperm.

  And yet, the four rich boys got off on technicalities. During the trial, the police officer who’d made the arrests had been crucified by the most expensive lawyers in the land.

  The boy without family money was serving a twenty-year sentence.

  “So the cop in the case – that’s your friend?”

  Matt nodded, eyes sober. “Yeah. Luke is a fine cop, the best, and he was mauled to death by lawyers and the press. The police commissioner, Bud Morrison, fought tooth and nail for him and went to the mat. But the commissioner was going to lose his job, so Luke quit, effective the end of the month. Said there was no point in two good men going down.”

  “My God,” she breathed. “That’s awful. Those fathers bought their way out of a murder conviction and destroyed the life of the police officer.”

  She remembered how it played out, though it had been a time when the ER had been short two doctors. But she’d been fascinated and had followed as well as she could.

  “Well, our bosses leaped at the opportunity to get their hands on Luke. Not only was he a Ranger but he is a fine detective and the company is getting more and more requests for jobs that require investigative skills. He’s slated to begin next month, just like me.”

  Two fine men who’d been betrayed, she thought.

  Matt checked his watch. “Five minutes.” He turned to her. “I told Luke to make discreet inquiries about you.” He felt her stiffen. “I swear, Luke knows what he’s doing.”

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest. It was instinctive, primal. “My God if the men who abducted me find out I’m not dead, they’ll —”

  “Shh.” Matt placed a finger on her mouth. He pulled her head forward until their foreheads touched. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay, I promise. Luke knows what he’s doing.” He pulled his head away to look her in the eyes. “Would I do anything to endanger you? Would I?”

  She barely heard the words. She only heard ‘honey’ and her heart gave another thump. A better kind of thump than the panicked thumps of before. His words played again in her head.

  Would he do anything to endanger her?

  Well … no. Since he’d fished her out of the water, risking his life, he’d done nothing but take care of her and protect her. He wasn’t likely to put her in jeopardy.

  Honor was used to taking life and death decisions, fast. She didn’t like putting power over her in anyone else’s hands. But this wasn’t a medical emergency or even a medical issue. It was a security one and she was out of her depth. Security for her meant making sure she had a hand on her pepper spray when walking to the car at night.

  She shook her head.

  He held her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “It’s very important for you to stay in hiding. But it’s also important to understand what we’re up against. You can’t hide forever. At some point we have to be proactive, and that’s what Luke’s done. Will you hear him out?”

  Her instincts vied with reality. Her instincts told her to tuck herself away from the world. Just go under the bed or in a closet or in a cabin somewhere and lock the door. But he was right. Nobody could stay hidden forever. And that ‘we’ felt so good. She wasn’t alone in this. She had a team.

  “Okay.” It was the only possible response, but it was hard to say. She was putting her life, quite literally, in Matt’s hands.

  “Good girl,” he said and kissed her on the forehead.

  Turning to the screen he touched a button and all of a sudden a person was there on the big screen, looking straight ahead.

  He was very handsome, like a Ken doll, except a Ken doll that hadn’t slept in three months, hadn’t shaved in weeks and hadn’t had a haircut in a long while. He looked like a good-looking man who’d died and been badly embalmed.

  Very fair, long blond hair that hadn’t seen a comb in a while, light stubble on his face, lines and bags around light blue eyes, fine features.

  Completely serious expre
ssion.

  “Matt,” he said in a low baritone.

  “Luke.” Matt nodded his head. “What do you have?”

  “Did you tell Dr. Thomas what the mission parameters were?”

  Honor spoke up. “I haven’t been told much of anything, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “Luke.”

  “Okay, Luke. And I’m Honor.”

  “Honor.” He nodded gravely. “I don’t want you to feel we did an end run around you, Honor, but the fact is, we did.”

  Honor wanted to be angry. “Yeah, you did.”

  “If we want to hit back against the guys who took you, we need more intel.” He seemingly looked straight at her, face sober.

  There was no disputing that. The one thing that was terrifying about what had happened to her was that the reasons were shrouded in fog. Not only did she not know what had happened during the days she’d been in captivity, she also had no idea why she’d been abducted.

  Given that, they’d had to go out to get information. She sure couldn’t.

  Honor gave a half shrug. “I don’t like it, on several different levels, but I do understand why you had to do it. So, Luke, what did you find out?”

  The man on the screen leaned forward on muscled forearms and stared straight at the screen. “I went to your place of work.”

  “To the hospital?” The hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

  “Yeah. Don’t worry, I didn’t give anything away. My cover was that I was an old university buddy of yours and I was in town and we’d made an appointment to meet but you hadn’t showed up.”

  “Okay. That works.” It did. Was clever, even. “What did you find out?”

  “First of all, that the last time anyone had seen you was June 6th.”

  Honor sat up straight. This was what Felicity had said. She glanced over at Matt. His body language didn’t change but his face tightened.

  Luke continued. “Worked a full day shift. No one noticed anything wrong.”

  Okay. June 6th was ten days ago. She didn’t remember anything about that day. The retrograde amnesia created by the drugs was still a fog in her head.