by Debra Webb
“He wouldn’t even let me put him under to do the repairs,” the doctor who’d patched him up told her. “Had to do it with local anesthetic.”
Lucas flitted a glance at him. “I didn’t live this long without enduring a little pain. I’ll be fine.”
The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “I removed a sizable section of skin from your back to repair the damage on your forehead. You might be tough, Mr. Camp, but don’t be foolish. Infection is still a serious risk.”
Victoria felt the bottom drop from her stomach and she had to work to keep her legs from wobbling. The bullet had more or less grazed his forehead, tearing away a portion of tissue. Though the wound wasn’t deep, like all head wounds, it had bled profusely. All the blood. She shuddered. That had been the most frightening part. Not knowing exactly how badly he was hurt had almost sent her over the edge.
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll be in good hands.” Lucas looked from the doctor to the men in the room. “We have work to do.”
With a defeated sigh the doctor added, “I’ll write up your release order.” He turned to go without further argument. He, apparently, knew a brick wall when he hit one.
Victoria also knew, without doubt, that it wouldn’t have mattered what the doctor said, as long as Lucas was breathing and able to stand, he would go on with his work. He was that much like her. Or maybe she was like him. She couldn’t help smiling at the thought.
“We’re going to go with the assumption that Leberman thinks I’m dead,” Lucas said when the door had closed behind the doctor. He rubbed his jaw a moment then. “I do find it difficult to believe that our assassin missed. I had him pegged as a lot more worthy than that.” He snorted a laugh. “God knows I’m glad his game was a little off. Still, it doesn’t feel right. For now we’ll—”
“Excuse me.” A nurse eased into the room, her hesitation evident in her expression and in the way she loitered in the doorway. She held a large floral arrangement in her hands. “Mr. Camp?” She looked to Lucas since he was the one wearing the bandage.
“Yes?” He looked annoyed but tempered it with a stab at a smile.
“These were delivered down at the E.R. a little while ago.” She blinked a couple of times as if befuddled. “We usually don’t get deliveries at this hour. But, anyway, they’re for you.”
Lucas’s less-than-stellar smile drooped. “Thank you.”
When he would have reached for the flowers, Logan stepped in. “I’ll take those.”
The nurse nodded jerkily and rushed away.
Victoria couldn’t help wondering if they looked that intimidating. She surveyed the classically dressed, well-trained agents in the room, and then hers as well as Lucas’s bloodied attire and shivered. Oh, yes. They definitely looked lethal.
Logan settled the vase onto a nearby table and fished out the accompanying card.
The smell of freshly cut white carnations drifted across the room and only then did Victoria really look at the arrangement. A frown furrowed her brow. Something about the flowers disturbed her somehow.
Logan passed the card to Lucas. “It’s him.”
Those two simple words tightened like a steel band around Victoria’s chest, drawing her attention away from the flowers.
“Next time,” Lucas read aloud, “will be for real.” He looked up, his gaze settling on hers. “He signed it ‘Fate.’”
“You were right,” Simon commented dryly, “he wasn’t off his game. The miss was intentional.”
Lucas nodded. “It would seem so.”
Victoria started to shake. Couldn’t control it. She hugged her arms around her middle. “We have to do something. We can’t let him get away again.” The scent of the flowers drew her gaze back there once more. Carnations made her think of death…funerals…graves.
Lucas came to her, pulled her close. “I won’t let him get away this time,” he murmured for her ears only. Then he turned to the men awaiting instructions. “Ferrelli, you and Simon go to the house in Oak Park our assassin calls home. Tear it apart.” His jaw clenched, he added, “If there’s anything there I want it found.”
“Won’t we need a warrant for that?” Simon suggested, ever the rule player.
Lucas smiled, but the grim expression held no humor. “Not for this.” He leveled his most intimidating stare on Simon. “You only need paper if you fear repercussions, which I don’t, or when you plan to prosecute. This man isn’t going to live to go to trial.”
Just then a memory struck Victoria. Carnations. She’d ordered carnations for James…for the funeral. She’d placed a single carnation in his hand…before they closed the lid. That one had been for the son they’d lost.
The little boy they hadn’t even been able to bury.
The lights dimmed.
She could hear Lucas calling her name.
Arms grabbing for her.
Then the darkness took her.
CHAPTER 26
Lucas sat on Victoria’s bedside and held her hand. His head throbbed viciously, and the spot on his back they’d robbed of skin burned like hell, but he couldn’t worry about that right now and any sort of pain reliever that might actually help was out of the question.
He had to stay sharp. Couldn’t let down his guard.
“I should be at the office,” Victoria said, her voice thin with exhaustion and the devastation of the night’s events.
“You won’t be going to the office today,” he insisted as gently as he could while remaining firm. “Ian has everything under control. He said he’d call you this afternoon for a general briefing.”
She nodded resignedly and lapsed into silence.
There was so much Lucas wanted to say. He wanted to reaffirm his love for her with more than just words. But now wasn’t the time. She was far too fragile. He could practically see her breaking apart right before his eyes.
And he was helpless to stop the momentum.
“I want you to rest now. I’ll be right here.”
She nodded again, not bothering to look him in the eye.
But she didn’t have to say anything for him to know what she was thinking. She wanted this over…she wanted Leberman dead. She was more than ready to face death herself to end this nightmare. Lucas would not allow that to happen.
He left her resting and moved quietly to her den. He scrounged up the remote for the television set and the DVD player and switched them on. After locating the surveillance footage in his briefcase he slid it into the machine and fast-forwarded to the part that kept nagging at
him.
On the video, Tasha North opened the door and allowed him inside her apartment. Lucas studied the way he moved, the sound of his voice. There was something vaguely familiar about the bastard who had taken a chunk out of his profile, but he couldn’t place it.
He was smart. Damned smart and well versed in all the right tactical maneuvers. As soon as the Cultural Center had been cleared, Logan and Ferrelli had determined exactly how the shooter had pulled off his hit. He’d posed as a repairman the week prior, plotted his access to the hall where the Woman of the Year banquet would be held, then stored his necessary equipment. Since the equipment was stored within the cooling system’s metal frame, their scans for weapons hadn’t picked it up. He’d used C-4 for his explosive, not enough to do any real damage, just a little fear factor tossed into the mix to create mayhem. The smoke bomb had been a stroke of genius, as well. It had set off the fire alarms and assured mass hysteria.
He’d thought through the whole scenario very thoroughly. Hadn’t missed a trick. He’d known that escaping would be impossible without a diversion, so he’d planned ahead.
Lucas would bet his life that Leberman had been there, too. Ramon was reviewing the Cultural Center’s surveillance tapes right now, but Lucas doubted he would be able to ID the scumbag. His
disguise would, like the assassin’s, be elaborate. The man the assassin had impersonated had called the police this morning to report that his home had been burglarized while he was away. It was yet to be determined how Leberman had managed an invitation and under what name. But Lucas would find all the answers in time.
He restarted the footage a third time and watched it once more, concentrating hard in an attempt to capture that fleeting sense of recognition. What was it about this guy?
“What’s that?”
Lucas looked up to find Victoria standing behind him. He switched off the TV. She didn’t need any more stress today. When Simon and Ferrelli reported in with their finds from the Oak Park house, he would have to see that Victoria was distracted. He intended to suggest that the timing of Ian’s briefing would coincide.
“Just some surveillance I wanted to take a second look at,” he said, as he pushed to his feet. “Join me and I’ll call out for some lunch.” Neither of them had eaten today. Nourishment of some sort would be good right now.
Victoria didn’t bother to sit down. “I’ve been thinking for the past few minutes.”
Lucas tensed. He didn’t want her coming up with any plans that included her personal involvement in baiting Leberman.
She moved toward him, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. He blinked, kicked himself for not noticing her emotional state sooner. “Don’t let him get to you any more than he already has,” he urged. “He wants to hurt you. Don’t give him the pleasure.”
He reached for her and she came to him without hesitation. She walked into his arms, pressed against his body and it felt right. So right. Lucas closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her…the warmth…the softness.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she murmured, then drew back to look at him. “I can’t bear to lose anyone else. Especially not you.” She shook her head as one tear, then another slipped past her lashes. “I’ve been selfish. Only thinking of my own need for revenge.” She peered deeply into Lucas’s eyes. “He almost killed you last night. Every time I play it over in my mind I lose my breath. I can’t allow that to happen again.”
“Victoria, I swear to you that I will stop him.”
She moved her head side to side. “No more. I want us to leave. To go far away. Someplace where he’ll never find us. I want this over even if it means I have to walk away from everything.”
Dear God, could she know how much he wanted to believe that? He would love to take her away and keep her safe forever, but she would never be happy. He knew that for a certainty. The Colby Agency meant too much to her. Running wasn’t her style.
He pulled her to him again. Inhaled the delicate scent of rose oil. So sweet and elegant, just like the woman. “We will go away.” He drew his head back far enough to meet those worried eyes. “But we’re not running. We’re only taking precautions. I’m going to get him before this is over. That’s a promise.”
“Kiss me, Lucas,” she urged. “Kiss me and make me forget for just a little while.”
He’d waited a lifetime for this moment. She wanted him to take her to bed. She didn’t have to say the precise words. He understood what she wanted…needed. He wanted and needed the same. As much as he feared her request might be based on the stress of the past few hours, he couldn’t resist or deny her anything.
He pressed his lips to hers. For one long moment he simply savored the taste of her…the gentle heat that made him crazy with desire. How he loved this woman, wanted to make her happy above all else. She melted into his arms, the tender contours of her feminine body making his harden in an instant.
Her kiss was greedy, desperate, and her arms tightened around him as if she feared she might lose him. He held her tighter to reassure her. She was his, and no one was going to harm her. Heat flooded his body, and he surrendered to the kiss…putting all else aside.
This was their time.
A knock on the front door jerked him from the heady embrace of desire. He stilled, praying it was a mistake and whoever was at the door would go away. But the banging came again, more insistent this time.
He drew his mouth from hers, his whole body crying out at the loss of contact. “I should get that.”
She smiled, all signs of tears gone now. “You should. We’ll continue this as soon as you’ve gotten rid of whoever it is.”
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’d be surprised how fast an old man like me can work.”
She stepped aside and he reached for the cane he’d abandoned on the sofa. “Don’t move,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she tempted as he made his way toward the entry hall.
It felt good to hear her tease him. Going away now was not only necessary but it would be beneficial to both of them. They needed time to themselves, where work and the past couldn’t touch them.
When they had consummated and solidified their fledgling relationship, then they could return to face the past.
Logan waited on the other side of the door, Lucas noted with a quick glance through the peephole. A part of him wanted to threaten that this interruption had better be important, but Lucas knew it would be. His men were too well trained for him to expect anything less.
“The postman just delivered this package for Mrs. Colby.”
Lucas glanced at the package, then back at Logan. The grim expression on his face told Lucas he’d already checked it out and it wasn’t good.
“It’s from him?”
Logan nodded.
Lucas reached for the package, but Logan stopped him with a warning, “You’d better close the door. I don’t think you’re going to want Mrs. Colby to see this.”
Lucas moved forward a step and pulled the door closed behind him. He propped his cane against his hip and reached for the package once more.
When he raised the lid, tissue paper concealed whatever was inside. A note read: A memento from the past.
Lucas shoved the note aside and drew back the layers of delicate white tissue paper.
His breath evacuated his lungs. Ice slid through his veins as his heart pumped one last time before shuddering to a near stop.
A small T-shirt bearing the Cubs logo, the best he could make out, lay neatly folded in the box.
The entire shirtfront was soaked in dried blood, an ugly brown with age.
Lucas didn’t need Victoria to identify the shirt for him. He knew whose it was.
This was the shirt her child had been wearing the last time she saw him.
CHAPTER 27
Tasha paced the length of her living room once more. She knew Maverick could see her. He had to know she was going crazy down here, and still she heard nothing.
Seth had taken a shot at Lucas. Thankfully he was okay, but it had been a close one. According to the last word she’d gotten he hadn’t intended to kill him.
This time.
Failure stung sharply.
Dammit. Why hadn’t she been able to get close enough to the guy? She was better than this.
She kept playing that scene in the sex club over and over in her mind until she was going crazy with it.
He’d watched her watching him. Had known how bewildered and, at the same time, fascinated she’d been by the intimate act playing out before her.
How sick was that?
She’d gotten turned on watching another woman go down on him! She’d been so damned caught up in the twisted moment that she hadn’t even sensed Leberman coming up behind her.
She always sensed danger.
Her advanced precog receptors had never failed her.
But this time had been different.
This time she’d let herself get infatuated with the target. Obsessed with the mystery of him. What made him kill? How had he gotten all thos
e scars?
She’d been so focused on playing the voyeur that she hadn’t even felt the enemy coming.
Maverick told her not to beat herself up, but he hadn’t been there, and she wasn’t about to tell him exactly what had distracted her.
She’d lost it. Hell, maybe she’d never even had it.
She spun on her heel and stormed across the room again.
The waiting was driving her mad. It was worse than sitting behind that damned desk at Langley, reading those monotonous reports.
She had to get out of here.
It had been almost a week since she’d run or worked out at all. Her physical as well as sexual frustration capacity had maxed out.
She couldn’t stand it any longer.
Turning thought into action, she strode determinedly toward the door, flipped the lock and yanked it open. At least a walk out in the open air would be better than this. Maybe she’d run into some safe-looking guy on the street, screw his brains out and get this crazy obsession out of her mind.
Maverick towered in her doorway.
“Lucas wants to talk to you.”
She blew out a breath and waved the big guy in. “It’s about time.” Her body literally vibrated with tension.
The suspicious way Maverick looked at her as he entered the room had her hoping he couldn’t read minds. While the big cowboy turned on the monitor and Webcam for the briefing, Tasha made herself comfortable on the sofa. She rolled her shoulders, took a couple of deep breaths and banished the thoughts that had haunted her for the past forty-eight or so hours.
When Lucas’s image filled the screen, she produced a smile. “Good morning.” She made a conscious effort not to scrutinize the bandage on his forehead. Seth had gotten too damned close. And where the hell was the hatred she should be feeling for the bastard right now?
“Morning.”