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Her Man Flint

Page 4

by Jerri Drennen


  “Oh... that’s awful, Flint. Did I say one thing about Lindsey to you?”

  “Damn straight. What about the silicone insinuation?”

  “Well, she has implants, doesn’t she?”

  He wished he knew. “What’s the difference? All women can’t be endowed with perfect breasts like you, Adriana.”

  Her eyes lit up at his words. “You think my breasts are perfect?”

  Flint shrugged. “They’re okay.” To Flint, Adriana had a big enough ego. He didn’t need to add to it.

  “Now they’re just okay?” She shook her head and turned her attention back to the compound.

  “So what do you think is really going on down there?” She didn’t bother to look back at him, but watched the compound with interest.

  “I wish I knew. I’d like to get a look inside the house. You wouldn’t want to create a diversion for me, would you?” Flint cocked a brow, excited at the prospect of a little danger.

  She glanced at him and shook her head. “I don’t think we should do that without backup.”

  “I see. So you’re afraid?” he accused. “I never would have thought the illustrious Adriana Kent was chicken. I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.” Flint did know her, knew she couldn’t resist a challenge. Goading her worked every time.

  “All right! I’ll do it.” Her gaze swept the perimeter of the complex. “I’ll meet you back at the clearing in thirty minutes.”

  Adriana crawled down the steep incline, then darted off toward the compounds gate.

  Flint watched her throw a large rock into the woods, then run in the opposite direction. The guards at the gate took off into the trees and gave Flint the opportunity to sneak by.

  His hope was to get lucky and learn what Ryan Hartford and his men were up to.

  Staying low, he made his way to the nearest window and eased himself up slowly to take a look.

  Inside, there were a number of men mulling around, some watching a huge screen TV in the back. Others stood around a long table studying something that looked like a map.

  Flint squinted, trying to make out a landmark when a large explosion appeared on the TV screen, causing an outburst of laughter from the men watching.

  “What the hell?”

  A tall man with a jagged scar running the length of his cheek came in, said something Flint couldn’t make out, and they all rushed from the room.

  Flint flattened himself against the wall of the stone structure as voices echoed around him.

  “Someone’s right outside the gate, Mr. Hartford. I tried to find them, but they slipped into the woods.”

  “Everybody pan out and start looking,” Hartford’s gruff voice ordered.

  Flint knew he had to get to Adriana and get the hell out of there.

  Dropping back to the ground, he crawled slowly to the edge of the yard. If luck was with him, he’d get by undetected.

  He’d managed to make it to the gate when a gunshot rang out from somewhere. Men scattered, giving Flint the chance he needed to slip out.

  His heart raced, wondering if the shot he heard involved Dray.

  He ran through the wooded encampment to the clearing where he’d left his car.

  “Over here,” a deep, male voice echoed in the distance.

  Flint’s heart jumped to his throat. Did they have Adriana? Why the hell had he talked her into this? He’d put her life in danger—again. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

  As he hit the clearing, he saw Adriana’s Porsche parked next to his, but she was nowhere in sight.

  “Shit,” Flint cursed.

  “Later. After we get the hell out of here,” Adriana bellowed from behind him, running for her car.

  Flint grinned as he jumped into his Cobra and waited for her to back up, then turned his car around, almost running over a man holding a rifle.

  Petal to the floor, Flint dodged him as he sped down the dirt road, thankful Adriana was safely in front of him.

  A bullet hit his side mirror, shattering the glass. He punched the pedal again and headed for the main road, hoping no one was in pursuit.

  His cell phone rang. He picked it up and pushed the receive button. “Talk to me.”

  “You horse’s ass. Next time you try to talk me into something so stupid, I’m going to shoot you myself,” Adriana spat. Then the phone hummed.

  “Yeah, I love you, too,” Flint said to dead airspace.

  Chapter Six

  Adriana soaked in a tub of fragrant bubbles, mulling over the evenings events. She sighed and eased herself deeper into the lavender scented water.

  Ah…this is better than sex. The notion made her chuckle. Well, maybe not.

  Nothing even came close to the satisfaction making love to Flint brought her. He definitely knew his way around her body. Every moment spent in his bed had been worth it—hell, every day she’d been in his company had been heavenly. Tonight was no exception, even though she could have been killed. At least she’d been with the one man who made her feel alive. She hated to admit it, but Flint was the only man who could stir her endorphins as danger had. She’d lie before telling him that, though. He would laugh at her. He’d accuse her of being a typical woman, and that was the last thing she wanted him to think. She wasn’t a typical anything. Tough as nails was how she was known at DNS. But she had another side, a vulnerable one she never allowed anyone to see. Not even Flint in the year and a half they’d lived together.

  She laid back against the tub, her hair clipped on top her head and allowed her mind to drift, almost falling asleep until she heard a thump from somewhere in her apartment.

  She jumped up and reached for a towel. Thick, white bubbles slid down her wet body as she wrapped the bath towel around her and secured it at the top.

  Still dripping, she crept into her bedroom. She listened intently for the sound again. It came seconds later when something banged against the other side of her bedroom wall.

  Tiptoeing to her nightstand, she picked up her Glock, her heart pounding in her ears.

  She turned and made her way to the door. It was cracked a few inches, but the darkened room beyond made it impossible to see anything.

  She flipped off the bedroom light, then eased the door open. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse of the intruder. She held her gun cocked and steady, ready to fire.

  Like a cat, she pounced into the living room, her eyes darting frantically around the dimly lit area.

  From behind, a hand clasped over her mouth, the other came down hard on her hands and knocked the gun to the floor. The towel that had been wrapped around her fell like freshly fallen snow about her feet. A steely arm snaked around her waist and drew her up hard against a solid, obviously male form.

  Adriana struggled against his strength with little success. His iron grip had her pinned. Hot, sweet breath exhaled next to her ear, sending a prickle of apprehension down her backbone. Her heart raced painfully in her chest as warm, wet lips connected with her ear lobe. Adriana held her breath, terrified for the first time in her life. Was this guy going to rape her?

  “You smell incredible,” a familiar male voice whispered, taking his hand away from her mouth.

  “Flint,” she groaned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I had to prove I hadn’t lost my touch. Besides, you didn’t give me a chance to thank you for the little diversion earlier this evening.” His teeth nibbled on the side of her neck.

  “You came here and scared me half to death, just to say thank you?” Adriana couldn’t believe it. She might have shot him. Was he loco? Hell, she should shoot him now for being so cocky. How dare he sneak in to try and prove a point?

  His hand slid up and connected with a breast, bringing her attention back to her predicament.

  “You do have perfect breasts, baby.” Flint’s voice was husky as he caressed her with his palms.

  Adriana couldn’t remember being so pissed, but she’d play along with his little seductive p
loy, for a few minutes.

  “So you do think they’re perfect?” Adriana tried to concentrate on the act, and not the incredible sensations his hands evoked in the pit of her stomach and nipples. Then the sensation moved lower.

  “Is there anything else you like?” she asked, trying hard to ignore the pleasure of his touch, but it was getting harder by the second. It was Flint, after all, and she knew damned well what he could do to her body.

  “I love your neck.” His tongue ran up her throat, sending little jolts of electricity firing through her. “I love your stomach,” he continued as his palms moved down to caress the flat surface, gently brushing her skin until Adriana thought she’d lose control. I love—” he said, moving his hand lower, “every inch of you.”

  Adriana’s body came alive. She wanted him more than she ever had. Then, just as quickly, images of Lindsey in his bed hit her full force, and it was as though ice water flooded her veins.

  Slowly, she turned and smiled temptingly at him. Without a second thought, she brought her knee up to his groin, buckling him over.

  She’d never forget the look of shock and pain on his face as he went down. It was priceless, a vindication of what he’d done to her—right where it hurt the most.

  “Oops. Sorry.” Adriana picked up her towel and wrapped it around her again. “My knee slipped.”

  She watched him struggle to get up, not feeling an ounce of guilt for what she’d done.

  “Jesus, Dray,” he hissed, through quick, uneven breaths. “Don’t you know you could damage a man forever doing that?”

  Adriana opened her eyes wide with mock surprise. “Really? I didn’t know that.” She tried to keep a straight face, but failed. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I feel a need to do it.”

  Flint scowled at her as he eased himself upright, then turned and limped toward the door.

  “Flint.” Adriana held out her hand. “I’ll take that key.”

  With eyes now watering, he reached into his pocket, flinched, then pulled out a key ring and tossed it at her.

  “Good night, Dray.” He opened the door and hobbled out, closing it quietly behind him.

  “Yeah, good night to you, too.”

  Adriana stared at the door for what seemed like an eternity. She almost regretted her decision to send him away. They could have spent the whole night making love. But at least now she knew he wouldn’t feel up to being amorous with anyone else either.

  A satisfied grin crossed her face as she returned to her bath—now cold, which she hoped would ice the desire he’d stirred inside her.

  * * *

  Flint sat in a soft leather chair, legs propped on a matching ottoman, an icepack in his lap. He still couldn’t believe Dray had kneed him. She could have permanently disabled him, something she’d regret later. After she forgave him, and was back in his bed.

  A smile curled his lips as he thought about how feisty his woman was. He shifted slightly and grimaced, the smile instantly lost. She was going to pay for this one. And, he knew exactly how he planned to get even.

  The buzz of his doorbell drew him out of crafting his scheme.

  Easing himself up, Flint made his way to the door, wondering who would come by so early. He opened it to find Lindsey standing there with a hell of a shiner and her lip bleeding, both beginning to swell.

  “Flint, I didn’t know where else to go.” She looked nervously around the hallway, then back at him. “Can I come in?”

  Flint didn’t want her in his apartment. She could be trying to set him up again. “What happened to you?”

  “Ryan hit me. He’s crazy, Flint. He wants you dead. He knows you were out at the compound last night. He’s put a contract out on you. You have to go away or they’ll kill you.”

  Her panic-stricken look told him she wasn’t lying.

  “Why should you care what happens to me? You set me up, remember?”

  She clutched at his sleeve, her blue eyes clouded with tears. “I had no choice. Ryan’s dangerous, Flint, and when he wants something, he gets it.”

  “You still haven’t told me why you’re here, Lindsey. What do you want?”

  “He’s going to kill me. I told him the truth. That’s when he hit me and said I was a dead woman.” She clutched at him tighter, clearly terrified. “I got away this time. But he’ll know where I am, and he wants us both dead.”

  What the hell was she trying to say? The woman made no sense. “Lindsey, what the hell are you talking about? Knows what? He knew about us sleeping together. Hell, he sent you to me. So what’s going on?” Flint felt aggravated with her babbling. That, and his crotch throbbed again.

  “He knows I fell in love with you. I had to tell him. He forced it out of me.” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  “What?” Flint grabbed her arm and pulled her into his apartment. All he needed was his neighbors gossiping.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Lindsey?” He surely heard her wrong.

  “I fell in love with you, Flint. When Ryan asked me to sleep with you, I couldn’t believe what he was asking. He told me if I loved him, I’d do it. I thought I did at the time, so I played along. I set out to seduce you. It was easier than I thought it would be. You were drunk and with the half a roofie I slipped you it wasn't difficult. When I woke up that next morning, I knew I no longer loved Ryan. I loved you. You, Flint.”

  “No, Lindsey. You can’t love me. You don’t even know me. Did you say you slipped me a roofie?”

  Was she playing games with him again? Was Hartford setting him up for a fall?

  “I know what I felt when I was in your arms. You were so tender, so wonderful to me. Ryan hits me, then tells me it’s because he loves me.” She shook her head. “Why would he do that to someone he loves?”

  Flint couldn’t believe this was happening. He didn’t remember anything about that night. Now he knew why.

  What the heck was he supposed to say? Pity was all he felt for her. He could never return her feelings.

  “Lindsey, I’m truly flattered by what you’re saying, but I can’t give you what you need. I’m not the serious commitment kind of guy. I- ah…”

  She reached up and brought his head down to kiss him. Flint tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip and deepened the kiss. He stopped fighting, but didn’t respond either.

  The door rattled behind them.

  “Flint, I’ve come to apologize…” Adriana’s words trailed off when she saw Flint in Lindsey’s arms. Her sparkling green eyes darkening with rage.

  Flint pushed Lindsey away. “Dray, honey, this isn’t what it looks like.”

  “Oh yeah. How original. I’m sure it’s exactly what it looks like.” Adriana shook her head. “I hope you and Lindsey will be very happy together.” She bolted out the door, slamming it behind her.

  “Shit.” Flint stared at the closed door, then turned back to Lindsey.

  “I have to go after her.”

  “No! You can’t leave me here alone. Ryan’ll kill me.”

  Flint pried her hands off his arms and went to the kitchen and opened a drawer. “You’ll be safe. Just don’t let anyone in.” He pulled out a small handgun and checked the chamber.

  “Here, do you know how to use this?” He held out his .45.

  “Yes, but I’m not very good with one.”

  He handed her the gun. “Just aim and fire. It’s that simple.”

  “But…”

  “I’ll be right back.” Flint hated leaving her in his apartment alone, but he had to try to talk to Adriana.

  Lindsey wiped at her tears. “Promise?”

  “Yes. So make yourself at home and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Flint gave her a reassuring smile, hoping the gesture would ease her mind. “Lock the door when I leave.” He grabbed his keys and left.

  He had to find Adriana and make her understand that nothing had happened between him and Lindsey. If he couldn’t make her see reason, he might as well kiss his chances
of her ever warming his bed again goodbye.

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan Hartford glanced at his feet, frowned and kicked at a small black dog trying to use him as a fire hydrate.

  “Put this out, you damn mutt.” He flicked his cigarette butt at him. The dog yelped and ran off.

  A wicked smile curled his lips as he turned his attention back to the surveillance on Morgan’s building. He’d been there for close to an hour, watching, waiting. He knew Lindsey was with Flint. He’d followed her here and knew, damn well, she hadn’t come out.

  Flint stepped out of the front door of the building and took off down the street.

  Ryan’s blood boiled at the sight of the arrogant man. He’d never experienced so much hatred for anyone in his life. Flint Morgan was a dead man, guaranteed, even if he had to kill him personally. He’d usually avoided doing anything that could be traced directly back to him, but Morgan needed killing.

  His hands clenched hard at his side as his mind conjured up images of Morgan’s life slipping away from him in the worst possible ways.

  Oh, yeah, he was going to love killing Flint Morgan, especially after his girlfriend’s confession. How could Lindsey have fallen for a creep like him? Okay, so Morgan was handsome and mysterious, in a brooding way. He seemed to have women kissing his feet, but he obviously didn’t have an ounce of commitment in his entire body. Not like he did.

  Ryan scowled.

  He’d watched Flint’s partner enter the building earlier, then leave several minutes later, wiping at her eyes. There was definitely something still going on between those two other than a mere partnership. Morgan had probably screwed her. He’d file that little tidbit of information away. A man never knew when a thing like that might come in handy.

  He jerked to attention when he saw Flint turn the corner, then walked toward the building. Lindsey was going to pay. She couldn’t make a fool out of him, not when he had a bad-ass reputation to uphold.

 

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