by Dale Mayer
Nikki knew it was too much for Hannah. Hannah’s whole focus was on Nathan’s health. And what she had thought was an ending of one man’s passion had become something others had abused. “I’ll let you go. Again I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Hannah said in a worried tone. “But it’s a really difficult ending. I thought for sure we would just close the last door, and we’d be done.”
“Well, essentially that’s what’s happened. But MI6 is now going through the warehouse. I don’t exactly understand what and how, but, because there have been several murders of the smuggling crew, plus MI6 had some agents killed too, they’ll go through everything with a fine-tooth comb.” Nikki hesitated, then added, “I gave them your contact information.”
“Yes, yes, of course. It doesn’t matter. The office will be closed in a week. I have all the files. Almost everything is digitized by now. I’ll file it all, pay the last of the taxes, and it’s a done deal.”
“I guess if we knew what we were coming to, we should have closed the business on the last day of the year. Just to make taxes easier.”
“Nathan and I had talked about that,” she said sadly. “But he was much more optimistic about his future. He thought for sure he’d have another couple years.”
Nikki didn’t say anything, but, of course, that was just one of the sad things about disease. It didn’t march to anybody else’s tune but its own. Finally she said goodbye and hung up the phone and sat there.
Dinner was long over. The men were sitting with a whiskey, still hashing out the events of the day. The MI6 men had left before the meal was prepped. North and Anders hadn’t been allowed to ask any questions, and that had been upsetting in itself.
“We should have kept the MI6 men here.”
“You know we couldn’t do that.” Her grandfather’s tone was as firm as it had been any other time.
When they had taken Stan to Charles, he’d phoned Jonas. Jonas had shown up and whisked Stan away. As much as she really wanted answers, she knew she’d get some eventually, but she didn’t wish Stan an easy time with Jonas. Jonas had lost four of his men and one, Dan, had been a good friend apparently. And, if Stan had anything to do with that, well, he wouldn’t find his future very friendly.
“Besides,” North said, “there really weren’t too many questions to ask.”
“The one I really wanted to know was whether that was the end of the men,” she said quietly. “Or did Stan have a partner who even now is skulking around the outside of the house. Who is the boss here?”
“Jonas has been watching the warehouse as well as this place since we got called here. Jonas had already done a full sweep of this area right after we caught Stan. Remember that Anders went out to take a look too.”
“So then my question really is, is somebody still inside the house?” she said. “I’m not certain I’ll sleep tonight.”
North reached over and patted her hand. “You’ll be fine.”
She shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that.” She glanced at her grandfather. “Please tell me that you’ve searched the other townhome.”
He looked at her steadily. “Why would I need to?”
She raised both hands in frustration. “Fine. I’m just a worrywart. I know that. But that was a little bit too close for comfort, to wake up and find you guys tackling that man in my room.” She put down her teacup and stood. “I’ll go have a bath and go to bed. Good night, everyone.” And she headed to the stairs.
Chapter 12
It took every ounce of her courage to climb that stairway alone. At the top, Nikki stopped, took several deep breaths and quietly approached her bedroom. She hadn’t been back here since they had found Stan. There were just ever-so-slight differences, the evidence of violence. Like the closet doors remained open—where Stan had been hiding—and the small throw rug inside had been scrunched to the side.
The bedroom carpet had been brushed up, where the men had fought outside the closet, and her bed had been nudged slightly to the side. She walked over, gently smoothed the carpet with her feet, put the bed back into place, stepped into the closet with the lights on and ran her hands over the hangers, making sure nobody else was inside. Reassured the place was empty, she headed into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She was thinking about a bath but wasn’t sure she had enough energy.
Maybe just a shower. She walked back into the bedroom, laid her camisole and shorts on the bed, closed and locked the doors to her bedroom, quickly stripped down to her underwear and walked back into the bathroom to turn on the hot water.
She opened the glass door as a hand came up and slapped across her mouth. She tried to struggle, but he was too strong, too big, and, from the look in his eyes, too pissed off to allow her to do anything. Realizing resistance was futile, she sagged in his arms and waited for whatever came next. Mentally she kept screaming for North.
If his intuition had been so strong earlier, why the hell wasn’t he here with her now?
The bathroom door opened as the intruder pushed her, his arm still wrapped around her throat, his hand still slapped over her mouth, and he said, “I want you to lie down on the bed. If you scream, I’ll snap your neck like the twig it is. Do you understand?”
She nodded. His tone was dead, almost lifeless.
But there was a heavy French accent to it. She didn’t know who he was, but she had no doubt he would be completely fine carrying out all he said. He let go of her, and she raced to the bed and pulled her T-shirt over her head.
He snorted. “I have no desires for you physically. You couldn’t be less my type.”
She sat with the covers pulled up to her chest, trembling. She was desperately thinking of how to alert North just one floor below. Why the hell had she locked her doors? Of course she’d been trying to keep the world at bay, but instead all she’d done was locked the world inside.
“Where did they take Stan?” he asked.
Knowing there was no point in lying, she said, “Some men from the government came and took him away.”
“Why the government?”
“Five of the men you killed worked for them.”
His gaze turned dark. “Yes, the four outside this home. … And the man outside the warehouse.”
She hesitated and then nodded. “Dan was a good man,” she snapped. “You didn’t have to kill him.”
“I didn’t kill him. It was Stan.”
“Why don’t you just take your drugs and leave,” she snapped.
His gaze, which had been searching her room, zeroed in on her face. “What do you know about the drugs?”
She shrugged. “I know they were hidden under the cases of wine.”
“Well then, you obviously know too much,” he said, his voice silky smooth.
And she froze. Shit, shit, shit. Her and her big mouth. “That’s what the men said. I don’t know anything about it,” she said hurriedly.
He sneered. “You might as well keep talking.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me something? You intend to snap my neck anyway.”
“That’s just a trick to get me to talk.”
“So what?” she said. “You can’t be afraid of me.”
He waved a hand at her as if she was a gnat irritating him. “Of course I’m not afraid of you. What’s to be afraid of? You don’t weigh more than eight stones.”
Interesting. Despite his French accent, he’s using a British measurement. … What the hell did France use for its measurements anyway?
“Besides you’re a nobody.”
“And you’re a somebody?” She shifted ever-so-slightly closer to the night table. One of her long nail files was on top of it.
“I am in my group, yes. But, if I don’t take care of this mess, you can bet I’ll be a nobody just as fast.” He swore softly. “This is ridiculous. How the hell did all this go to shit?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her adrenaline gone, leaving her suddenly we
ary. She shifted, propping the pillow behind her, grabbing the nail file and tucking it underneath the pillow as she settled back. “This has all been a nightmare.”
“It was Stan, wasn’t it?” he snapped. “He is the one who screwed up.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe he let us see paperwork we shouldn’t have. But it was the double order that made no sense.”
“A stupid clerical error. Brought down by something so simple.”
“You’re Massey? The manager of Booker & Sons?” She knew she shouldn’t ask anything, but it was so hard not to want to know what was going on.
He shot her a hard look. “And the owner of Only the Best—which will now cease to exist. But it was the best way to move the products and have no one know. That network has been functioning for two years. It was too much to lose. I wondered if Stan was setting up his own distribution channel. But I’m unlikely to know the truth at this point. I trusted him and didn’t want to think the worst of him. Stan has always been a great asset.”
“As he screwed the company he was working for, I imagine he was trying to screw you too. But you can’t ask him because the government has him. So you’re the boss? The one who ordered someone to run our vehicle off the road? Had your men break into Granddad’s house? Had Stan take out the government men and your own men? How could you do that?”
He nodded again. “Whatever. I have to get the hell out of here.”
“How the hell did you get in anyway?”
“I came in when you were all fussing over Carl. I let Stan in much later.” He gave her a wry smile. “I have to admit I didn’t jump out and help him because he was a perfect patsy.”
“Where the hell were you hiding?”
“I was still in the closet,” he said. “There were two of us in there, but Stan wanted to jump out first, so I let him. Everybody caught him and disappeared.” He tilted his head back and groaned. “But, for Stan to take the fall, I need to disappear. Start again in France. Set up a new network after enough time has gone by. Reconnect with the buyers …”
She could imagine how it had all happened because she’d been here. It had been a surprise, and they’d been so concerned with Stan. Once they’d realized who he was, a quick glance in the closet would have been all they’d done. “Can you go out the window?” she asked hopefully. She motioned at the big windows beside her. “There’s a fire escape in the back bedroom.”
“I know. That’s how Stan and I got in.” He looked at her with sudden interest. “Why are you trying to help me?”
She snorted. “I want to get out of this alive.”
“And you just might.” He walked over to the bedroom doors, thinking.
“Please just go and leave me alone.”
He turned to look at her. “I wish I could.” He pulled out a handgun, the same kind as Stan had had, with a silencer on the end.
She started screaming as she threw herself to the floor and scooted under the bed. In the background she heard a hard spit. Then another as Massey approached her bed.
The bedroom doors burst open just then, and she watched as North flung Massey to his back and then beat Massey’s face with his fists.
Anders struggled to pull North off the guy. “Hey, easy, easy. We need him alive.”
Finally North sat back on his knees, catching his breath as he glared at the man on the floor. “Why the hell do we have to keep him alive? Pieces of shit like this don’t deserve to live.”
Anders shoved North off the guy and said, “Go take care of Nikki.” Anders checked Massey on the floor. “He’s still breathing.” He pulled out his phone, and, while she watched, he called Jonas again.
North dropped to the floor next to the bed beside her. “Come on out.”
She struggled out from under her bed, took one look at his face, threw her arms around him and just hung on tight.
“I shouldn’t have let you come up the stairs alone,” he snapped, crushing her against his chest. “As soon as you left, I knew it was wrong. By the time you hit the top of the stairs, I was already coming this way. But I got to the door, and I thought I heard you in the bathroom, so I hesitated. Then I heard a male voice. And I knew you were in trouble.”
“I locked my doors,” she said with a head shake. “I just wanted the world to go away for a few minutes.”
He pushed her head against his chest and held her tight. “It’s done. It’ll be just fine.”
She stood trembling in his arms. “Are you sure?”
He leaned back and smiled at her, tilted her face up and kissed her long and hard. “Yes, I’m sure.”
She stared at him in wonder. Her attention was caught by Anders, who picked up the unconscious man and flung him over his shoulder. He stopped at the doorway and turned. “You guys have about forty-five minutes to get your shit together. Then Jonas will be here.” And he turned and shut the door behind him.
They could hear him stomp across the hallway, heading toward the stairwell.
She looked at North and smiled. “What did he mean by that?”
North shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know.”
She peered up into his gaze. “You care, right?”
His face turned red.
She nodded. “I care too.”
He stared at her steadily. “Yeah? But how much?”
Uncomfortable again, she shrugged, unconsciously mimicking his shoulder movement. “Enough to consider moving to the US,” she announced.
His gaze lit up. “We could travel back and forth and see your granddad all the time.”
“And, if you ever do any jobs over here, I could come back for a visit.”
“I don’t know if you would consider Texas as a place to relocate.”
“I don’t care where I go. I was looking for a reason, and I think maybe I found it.”
He tucked her into his arms, lowered his head and kissed her.
She leaned back, looked up at him and smiled. “So do you think Anders meant that we have that much time?”
“We definitely have time,” he said. “But I don’t want to waste what we have by trying to rush it.”
She snickered. “I’m barely wearing anything. At the speed we’re going, I suspect we’ll have time for a quickie and a shower before Jonas gets here.”
“Will you be embarrassed if you go downstairs afterward to meet all those men, when, from our wet hair and change of clothes, they’ll know what we were doing?”
She gave him a flat stare. “Hell no. You’re mine, and I’m yours. As soon as they realize that, the better for all of us.” And this time she slid her arms up his chest, around his neck and through the curls in his hair. She pulled his head down. “So let’s just make it fast for our first time.”
As his lips crushed down on hers, she smiled and pressed her body flat against him from chest to hips. “Now that’s more like it,” she whispered against his lips, nipping at his bottom lip, then letting her tongue stroke across it. The only reason he let her go now was so he could strip down.
And strip he did. In two seconds flat the man standing before her, proud and erect, was completely nude. She tossed her T-shirt over her head, reached behind, unhooked her bra and stepped out of her panties. Enjoying the beautiful sight before her, she stroked his chest, his shoulders, his massive biceps. “You are incredibly fit,” she said in wonder.
“It’s part of the work I do,” he admitted. “I spend a lot of time staying in this shape.”
“And I’m glad for it. It saved my sorry ass more than a few times already.”
He stepped forward, reached around and gently stroked her curvy back. “As asses go, my dear, this one is perfect. I have no intention of letting anybody hurt it.” He picked her up and, in a quick move, tossed her on the bed.
She shrieked with laughter as she quickly realigned on the bed and opened her thighs, making room for him as he came down on top of her. “Make me forget what just happened,” she whispered. “Please.”
He
crushed his lips against hers, with his hands, his body, teasing, exploring as his mouth moved from her lips to her chin to her throat, thereafter finding first one breast and then the other, and the valley in between. His hands stroking, caressing, gently sliding down, not missing a single inch of her bare body. When he stroked the inside of her thighs, between the curls at the apex, she moaned, her hips rising. He slid a finger inside, gently wiggling it deeper and deeper. She twisted her thighs, opening them wider and wider. With his thumb he gently massaged the tiny button in the hidden folds of her skin until she was gasping and clutching the bedding as her body arched in joy.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please do it now.”
But he was insistent on slowing the pace a bit. He let his fingers slowly pull out and then slide back in again, stroking, pressing, teasing her. As her body wept for joy, he lowered his head and took her right breast deep into his mouth, suckling the nipple like a babe. She cried out, her body twisting, her hands pulling at his head, trying to tuck him up closer. Her body had already warmed and softened, waiting for him, dying for his possession. She needed him inside her to complete this union she had known, right from the beginning, had to be. She’d never met anyone quite so dynamic, anybody so essentially perfect for her from the first moment on.
It had been days of stress and nightmarish events, so she hadn’t had a chance to clue in on a more intimate level about who and what this man would be for her. But she knew now. And she had no intention of holding back. She pulled him over her, whispering, “I don’t want to come without you.”
He lifted his head, his fingers sliding free to gently cover the other nipple in her own juices before he turned and latched on tight. Her hips lifted as he rearranged, shifting to settle in deeper between them. While his lower body rested at the heart of her, he suckled her breast hard and deep, lightly nipping at the tip.