And Able

by Lucy Monroe

  She was stunning all on her own.

  Her body encased in the sexy number she’d worn to be in Josette’s wedding, her feet shod in the dangerously high stilettos, she walked slowly forward. Her hips rolled seductively because of the shoes, and while other men noticed, her attention was fixed solely on him.

  And the look in her eyes made him want to sweep her into his arms and carry her back up that huge staircase. There was such tenderness there and approval for what she saw.

  She had said she loved him and he was starting to believe that might be true.

  His first reaction when she’d said the words was that she was confusing physical ecstasy with love. After all, if she loved him, wouldn’t she want to marry him?

  But maybe she did. Maybe she really was just scared he was going to lose interest one day and walk away. Her parents had done a number on her for sure, but that was never going to happen. Every time they made love, he wanted her more, not less. And he didn’t just crave having his body buried in hers so deep neither of them could tell where the other one started and they left off.

  He craved her affection, her attention and her presence. As he’d told her…it was better than love.

  He felt a jab in his ribs and turned to glare at Wolf. “What the hell was that for?”

  “Lise has asked you three times if you and Claire have plans to see each other after the investigation. I’m guessing the answer is yes.”

  The smirk on Nitro’s face said he’d been speculating, too.

  Hotwire shrugged. “You could say that. I asked her to marry me.”

  It was the first time he’d seen his friends dumbfounded. Both men’s mouths dropped open and then snapped shut without a word being uttered.

  “You did what?” Wolf demanded after a short silence, his arm wrapped possessively around his wife’s pregnant waistline.

  Hotwire rolled his eyes. Like he’d stuttered the first time? He didn’t think so. “I asked her to marry me.”

  “Boy, you are one fast worker,” Nitro said. “I distinctly remember you telling me that you and Claire were nothing more than friends.”

  “I was wrong.”

  Nitro did a double take. “You sure you aren’t sickening?”

  “There’s nothing sick about my attraction to Claire.”

  “Hell no, there isn’t…” He paused and grimaced. “Pardon the language, Lise. But, Hotwire, you admitting you were wrong is one for the record books.”

  “Only for petty-minded people who keep track of that sort of thing.”

  Wolf laughed, but Nitro just shook his head. By then the women had reached them and Hotwire forgot about his friends’ reaction to his news. Claire was standing right in front of him, her soft, silky skin in touching distance, the gentle fragrance that he recognized as only her, luring his senses.

  “Hi,” she said, looking nervous.

  “Hi, yourself.” He reached out and pulled her into him for a quick kiss. He couldn’t help himself, though he guessed he’d catch hell for it later from Mama. He spoke low, close to Claire’s ear, “You are so beautiful, you look good enough to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  She gasped and turned pink. “Brett!”

  “It’s all right, sugar. Our friends understand.”

  Her gaze skidded to Nitro and Josie, and his followed. Neither was paying Hotwire and Claire the least attention.

  Josie’s hand was on her husband’s arm and his attention was focused one hundred percent on her. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  Hotwire recognized that tone as one he used often with Claire. It was the I want to get you away from here and strip you naked voice.

  Josie preened, former hardened mercenary nowhere in evidence. “Thank you, Daniel. I don’t suppose you want to dance?” She turned to the others. “He taught me on our honeymoon.”

  She sounded very proud of herself.

  Nitro didn’t need any further urging, but took his wife onto the ballroom floor and pulled her into his arms without so much as an attempt to use a formal dance hold. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what kind of dancing that couple did best.

  “What about you, Lise?” Wolf asked. “You feel like dancing?”

  “Maybe once,” she said with a smile, but turned to look at Hotwire. “I really enjoyed talking to your parents. Your father has so many interesting stories.”

  Wolf laughed. “You better watch out, or he’s going to end up in a book.”

  Hotwire winked at Lise. “Don’t you worry, Lise darlin’. Daddy wouldn’t mind that at all.”

  Wolf scowled at the darlin’ and Lise said, “He looks so much like you. I felt like I knew him right away.”

  “There isn’t much resemblance when we open our mouths,” Hotwire scoffed.

  “You don’t think so? I’m not so sure. I caught myself feeling like I was talking to you several times.”

  “I know what you mean,” Claire said, turning within the circle of his arms to face the other woman. “If there wasn’t the age difference, they could be mistaken for twins.”

  Hotwire just shook his head.

  Wolf tugged Lise out onto the dance floor before she could say anything else.

  Hotwire pulled Claire back around to face him. Looking at her close up made him feel sucker punched again.

  She wasn’t looking at him, though; her focus was on something across the room. His parents? “Do you want to go wish Mama a happy birthday?”

  “No. Well, I mean…yes, but not right this second. I need to talk to you about something.” But her gaze was still on his parents across the room.

  “You look exquisite tonight, Claire.”

  That got her attention and she smiled at him, albeit distractedly. “I think we established that you liked me in this dress at Josette’s wedding.”

  “Is that why you wore it? For me?”

  “What do you think?” she asked in a breathy, warm voice that went straight to his groin.

  “I think it’s going to kill me to stay at the party long enough not to offend Mama.”

  Claire patted his chest in what he was sure she thought was a comforting manner, but all it did was turn him on further. “You’re strong enough to survive an assignment in a jungle infested with predators, both men and animals. You can handle a few hours of unrequited lust.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Positive. And if you get exhausted from the effort, I believe I know just how to revive you.”

  “You’re teasin’ me at your peril, woman.”

  She laughed, the seductive sound an aphrodisiac of unequaled potency. Then she grew serious. “Listening to Lise made me remember something I believe could be important.”

  “About Lester’s case?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  “A couple of days before Lester died, Queenie and I were talking about him. She was worried his mind was slipping further into dementia, but I wasn’t sure I saw it. I mean, he definitely had his bouts of senility-driven dialogue, but that had been going on for a long time. Only something he had done very recently had really worried her.”

  “What was it?”

  “There was a group of politicians who came to Belmont Manor. They were on a committee charged with assessing the living and care options in Oregon for the elderly.”

  “So?”

  “Well, Lester pulled one of the men aside and started talking to him. He called him by the wrong name and really made a pill of himself, according to Queenie. One of the orderlies had to coax him back to his room. It was odd, because as a general rule, Lester refused to speak to people he didn’t know and a lot of people he did.”

  “But he acted like he thought he knew this guy?”

  “Yes. Which is what worried Queenie so much. She said the politician didn’t know Lester from Adam. Not only that, but even though the politician is only in his forties, Lester talked like the guy was one of his clients from his days as Arwan. Queenie wa
s sure it meant that Lester was moving into total senility.”

  “And you don’t?” It sounded like dementia to him.

  “No. Think about it, Brett. If someone who had known your father as a younger man, but hadn’t seen him since, ran into you, they might mistake you for him at first. Our brain plays tricks on us like that and even though you are so much younger, their first reaction wouldn’t be to take that into account. Neither was Lester’s and because he was going senile, he was convinced he was speaking to a man he had met many years before.”

  “So far, none of those politicians has any known links to any of Arwan’s hits.”

  “No, but one of them shares the last name of a client Arwan turned down. It was in the late eighties and Lester had all but retired. I don’t know how the man contacted him, but Arwan refused the job.”

  Hotwire said a word that his mother would have washed his mouth out for, remembering exactly what Claire was talking about. “You’re right. We dismissed the possible link as unlikely to generate a real suspect.”

  “Because Arwan turned down the job.”

  “But he kept a record of it being offered, and even if the politician didn’t know about the kill book, he saw Lester as a threat because Lester had remembered meeting the man’s father and was just senile enough to say something.”

  Claire’s big brown eyes were filled with regret. “He signed his own death warrant when he unwittingly greeted a man from the past.”

  “Most civs wouldn’t want the fact that their father had tried to hire a hit man to come out, but a politician would be doubly vulnerable. Heck, you were even worried about my sister being adversely impacted by your past.”

  “Exactly. And what if his dad followed through with hiring the hit? Just because Arwan turned him down doesn’t mean that he gave up on the idea of getting rid of someone who was in his way. For all we know, he took care of the job himself.”

  “There was a farmer standing in the way of land development in a small town in Eastern Oregon and the client wanted him disposed of,” Hotwire said, remembering what he’d read in the kill book.

  “That town isn’t so small anymore and I bet that land development had a lot to do with it. The state representative probably built his political base on his father’s success revitalizing that area.”

  “We’re doing a lot of speculating here.”

  “It wouldn’t be hard to check any of this out.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. But it will have to wait until after the party.” His family would never forgive him otherwise, and the politician wasn’t going anywhere. “Now, sugar, I want to dance.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Just hold on to me and sway to the music.”

  “I can do that.”

  And she did…beautifully. The feel of her in his arms paid hell on his good intentions, and it took all of his self-discipline to break away from her when the music moved into a slightly faster rhythm.

  That didn’t stop him from dancing with her again and again throughout the festivities. He was either a glutton for punishment, or hopelessly addicted.

  An hour’s worth of research after the party verified all of Claire’s suspicions.

  The farmer in question had died of a heart attack even though he’d had no history of heart problems. The land developer had become something of a town father and when his son entered local politics, no one had been surprised.

  The son was medium build with gray eyes…he also had aspirations to the governorship, which was motive for a man with little conscience to silence Lester and anyone else who might be able to blow apart the house of cards his father had built. The question was…did the politician have no conscience?

  There was still the agency director in D.C. to take into consideration. According to Ethan, whether he had a conscience or not was also questionable.

  Hotwire shut down his laptop and closed it. “That’s it, then.”

  “This guy is the most solid lead we have,” Wolf said, supporting his dozing wife as she sat sprawled across his lap.

  “I want to talk to the feds before we go after him.”

  “I’m still not convinced that director had nothing to do with the attacks on Claire,” Nitro said, echoing Hotwire’s thoughts.

  “I got a voice mail from Ethan. He said he has Raymond Arthur ready for a meet in D.C.,” Hotwire said.

  “When?” Claire asked.

  “Tomorrow.”

  Her face fell. “I promised your mother and sister I’d go shopping with them. I’ll have to cancel.”

  “There’s no reason for you to go. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll be safer here. I don’t want to take you into the lion’s den until I know they aren’t hungry.”

  “Smart man,” Nitro approved.

  “Why don’t I go shopping with Claire and the others?” Josie asked. “I can keep an eye out for trouble while you all fly up to D.C.”

  “Why do Wolf, Lise, and Nitro get to go and I don’t?” Claire asked.

  “I told you, I want you safe,” he said at the same time as Wolf growled, “Lise will not be going.”

  Lise’s eyes widened and then narrowed in a way that promised retribution for the high-handedness of Wolf’s pronouncement, but she didn’t argue.

  Claire frowned. “I’ll miss you.” Then she brightened a little. “But I’ve got to say that though I’ve never actually looked forward to shopping, after this afternoon with Eleanor and Josette getting ready for the party, I really am.”

  He pulled her from her chair into his lap. “I’m glad you’re getting along with my sister, sugar.” He liked the thought of her missing him, too.

  “Are things going to get mushy around here? Because if they are, I think I’ll take my pregnant wife to bed.”

  “Bed being the operative word,” Nitro said in a deadpan voice, but everyone laughed anyway.

  “Are you saying that’s not where you want to take me?” Josie asked with a coquettish smile that threw Hotwire.

  He’d crawled beside this woman through the rain forest, mud caked on their clothes, both of them armed to the hilt and feeling mean enough to chew nails. She didn’t look mean now. She looked like a woman who enjoyed taunting the man she’d married.

  Hotwire had to stifle a grin he was pretty sure Nitro wouldn’t appreciate. Marriage had changed some things about his friend, but not everything. He could still be a mean son of a bitch when he wanted.

  Nitro swung his wife in the air and carted her from the room slung over his shoulder, the only sound coming from the couple her shrieking laughs and promises of reprisal.

  Lise tried to argue she was too heavy when Wolf cradled her against his chest and carried her out of the room, too, but he paid her no mind.

  Claire looked at Hotwire, her expression warm and intimate. “Are you going to carry me out of here, too?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Where I get to carry you.”

  She batted her eyelashes and his dick jumped in his pants. “Bed?”

  “You said the magic word.” He stood up in one fluid movement with her tightly held in his arms.

  He took her to his bedroom where he proceeded to do what he’d wanted to the first time she’d worn this dress…peel it off her and then spend a long time making love to every inch of her beautiful body.

  They left for D.C. with Lise holed up in her and Wolf’s room writing, while Josie kept her promise to accompany the other women shopping.

  Hotwire wasn’t surprised that Wolf got his way, not after how neatly he’d convinced his wife to rest the day before. Wolf was not a stupid man, nor did he make the mistake of thinking he’d married a dumb woman. Hotwire had taken note for the future, the thought of having to use similar techniques with Claire a sweet one.

  Maybe he should get a pregnancy test kit and ask her to use it. Some were highly accurate within hours of conception. The imag
e of Claire large with his child flashed in his mind, sending arousal rushing through him while a funny feeling twinged in his chest.

  Man, that would be sweet.

  They flew into an airport outside D.C. and rented a car to drive straight to the park where they were to meet Ethan.

  He was waiting for them by the fountain he’d told Hotwire to look for. Three other men were also there. The one in the middle had steel-gray hair and an expression colder than the arctic in his gray eyes.

  Raymond Arthur.

  The other two men were the agents who had attended Lester’s funeral. Ethan’s ability to get all three there brought him up another notch in Hotwire’s estimation. He had to have some pull in Washington.

  “Hotwire.” He put his hand out. “Good to see you again.”

  Hotwire shook his hand. “Claire sends her regards.”

  Ethan smiled slightly. “I bet you hated passing them on, though.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  A scoffing sound came from his right.

  Hotwire frowned at Wolf, who looked too innocent to be believed, and then made the initial introductions. Ethan introduced the other agents as well.

  Raymond Arthur frowned at Hotwire, his expression filled with impatience. “You have something that belongs to us.”

  Hotwire crossed his arms over his chest, and raised his brows in question. “Do I?”

  The sense of impatience emanating off the other man grew. “Let’s not play games. You’ve got the kill book and we want it.”

  “That’s unfortunate, because you can’t have it.”

  Raymond turned to Ethan. “What the hell is this? You said they were prepared to cooperate.”

  Ethan shrugged. “Maybe Hotwire’s definition of cooperate is different than yours…or maybe he changed his mind when he came face-to-face with your charming personality.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Ethan just looked bored.

  Raymond turned back to Hotwire. “Tell me what you want in exchange for the kill book.”

  “Stop trying to piss me off. I’m not going to give you the kill book under any circumstances. Ethan is a different matter, however, but that has nothing to do with you.”