Risking It All for Her Boss: A Heroes for Hire novel (Entangled Ignite)

by Sharron McClellan

  The heat brightened, and she knew she’d be over the edge in seconds.

  More. He rocked against her. More.

  The growing heat shattered and grew, racing through her body. “Quinn,” she cried his name as her body spasmed around him. He slowed, letting her ride it out before he followed, his face still buried in her neck as his hands dug into her hips.

  He lowered her back to the mat, still joined. She ran her fingers through his hair, toying with the strands. The sex was over. The orgasm great.

  And she still loved him.

  God help her, she wanted to say it. To scream it out. But she knew what would happen if she did—the same thing as before. She loved Quinn. Might always love him. But he was a company man, and no amount of love or sex could change that.

  She kissed his hair, wishing it were different. Wanting it to be different.

  But she couldn’t bring Felix back to life, and she couldn’t change Quinn.

  Two irrefutable truths.

  What she could do was take what he gave and move on. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  “What’s going on behind those big browns?” He rose to his elbows, still inside her. She smiled at the sensation.

  “Thinking about how some things are out of my control.”

  His smile dimmed. “I wish it were different. That I could make it different.”

  She traced his mouth, pushing up the corners. “It’s okay. You helped, and I’m grateful for that.”

  “I do what I can.”

  He did, and she appreciated it. She contracted her muscles, and he hardened inside of her. His brows shot up. “A bit eager, aren’t you?”

  She squeezed again, and he filled her. Slowly, he withdrew and sunk back into her. “And you aren’t,” she said, the words catching.

  He chuckled as he continued the slow pace, each exquisite stroke making her tingle from top to toe. “Round two?” he joked.

  She bit her lip. “Ding.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Noon. Crystal Café. We have another weapon. Send Eva Torres, or we’ll detonate.

  Eva sat in Tempe’s office, staring at a printout of the e-mail the Director had received only five minutes earlier.

  It was eleven thirty.

  “There can’t be another weapon,” Quinn said. “Felix would have said something.”

  “Maybe,” Eva replied. They’d taken a shower after their “sparring” in the gym, and her hair was still wet.

  “Either way, we can’t take the chance,” Tempe said.

  Next to her, Quinn stiffened. “You want to send Eva in?”

  “They have to,” Eva replied, before the V.P. could answer. If there was even a remote chance this was true, they had to do whatever was necessary to make sure they either retrieved the weapon, the person behind all of this, or both.

  Besides, she owed it to both Felix and his daughter to catch who did this. “It’s our best chance to find out who kidnapped Felix and Pauline.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I,” Tempe said. “But she’s right.” She opened up a box on her desk. “Of course, I’m not sending you in blind.”

  She turned the box one-eighty to face the pair. On one side and nestled in foam was what looked like a small, round, Band-Aid but was a communication device. The minuscule, flesh-colored gadget fit behind the ear rather than in it. On the other side was the transceiver. Equally innocuous, it looked more like a smart phone and functioned as one, unless the user knew which application to activate.

  “Eva, the receiver is yours. Quinn, you’re driving her to the rendezvous. The transceiver is yours.” She gestured to the phone.

  Moment of truth, Eva thought. How far was she willing to go to catch the bad guy? She put herself in danger for a living, but this felt more intimate. More threatening—she glanced at Quinn—because now she had everything to lose.

  But the reason didn’t matter.

  What mattered was that she paid her debt.

  She picked up the receiver, handed it to Quinn, and lifted her hair while he stuck it to her skin.

  He took the transceiver and turned it on.

  “Testing,” Eva said.

  The speaker on the phone relayed her words.

  “Testing,” he said into the speaker. His voice sounded tinny and reverberated like it was coming from inside her head, but it was clear.

  Tempe rose. “Your car is out front. I’m getting others in place, but it’ll be tough with this tight timeline.”

  Eva paused. “What about Pauline?”

  “What about her?”

  What was she going to say? Take care of her? She was in HRS, the safest building around. “Just tell her that everything will be okay.”

  “Will do.” Tempe said, “Now go.”

  With the elevator out of order, they rushed down the stairs to the waiting car. The rendezvous was only a ten minute drive away, but it felt like forever as Quinn battled traffic.

  He pulled to the front of the café with only a minute to spare. “You know you can stop this at any time you want.”

  It was sweet that he thought walking away was an option. But she knew better. He might forgive her, and she was sure Pauline would.

  But she’d never forgive herself.

  She kissed Quinn. A small peck on the lips that somehow seemed as intimate as the love they’d shared again this morning. “I like that you worry about me.”

  “I’m glad somebody’s happy about it,” he said, arms crossed and face grim. “Because I am less than thrilled.”

  She wound her fingers through his. “Back in a few.”

  He tightened his grip and pulled her to him. His kiss tasted of coffee and fear. Fear for her. Then it was over, and he held her with a ferocity that threatened to break her ribs.

  She reveled in it for a few seconds. But only a few.

  “Stop. We have to stop,” she whispered. “Or I’ll miss my date.”

  “Now you’ve guessed my evil plan.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder, only for a moment, and then pulled away. His eyes begged her to stay. She opened the car door and found she couldn’t speak.

  Anything she said would only sound like last words, and she didn’t want that. She was coming back. Quinn would make sure of it.

  He was equally silent as she closed the door.

  Dodging traffic, she entered the cafe. It was packed with a lunch crowd. She stood to the side while the hostess took names for the wait list.

  “Don’t you hate lines?” Kilburn appeared, sidling up next to her.

  Large. Blond. He wore khaki slacks and a pale blue polo shirt, a generic uniform that blended well with the dining crowd.

  “I hate threats more,” Eva said, making sure to keep her voice low.

  “I like your humor,” he said with a smirk.

  God, she wanted to wipe it off his face.

  He continued, “Let’s take a walk.”

  Don’t go with him. Talk him out of it, Quinn said in her ear.

  She almost bit her tongue to keep from replying with a sarcastic, “You think?” Instead, she kept her focus on Kilburn. “That’s not the deal. We talk here. In public. Besides, I haven’t had lunch.”

  He shook his head. “There is no deal unless I say there’s a deal. If you’re worried that I’ll kill you, let me advise you that if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

  “You can’t tell me that the plane wasn’t a valid attempt on my life.”

  “It was, but things have changed since then.”

  Don’t trust him, Quinn said.

  “What things?”

  Kilburn rose and offered her a hand. “Walk with me, and we’ll talk.”

  Eva. Don’t you dare. You know he’ll be watching for a tail. Stick to the plan.

  The plan was to retrieve the second weapon and find out who was behind this. What better way than a face-to-face meeting? “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a
surprise.” He gripped her shoulder.

  Dammit, Eva. Why don’t you ever listen?

  “I hate to keep bringing up the past, but your last surprise ended with me learning how to land a plane.” She tried to pull away, but Kilburn dug his fingers into her muscle, forcing her to move with him. “Act natural, and this will all be over soon.”

  Countless criminals had said the same thing. And it usually ended with death or worse. “You said we’d talk. Tell me why your boss wants me.”

  “You’ll get all your answers soon enough. The boss is eager to meet with you.”

  “Do I know this boss? Does he have a name?”

  He tightened his grip until it was almost painful. “This isn’t twenty questions. You asked. I answered. We want you alive. Isn’t that enough?”

  Of course it wasn’t, but he could break her arm, and she’d still try to pump him for information. “What about Felix? Why did he have to die?”

  Kilburn slowed. “That was an accident. The sniper that screwed that particular pooch has been dealt with.”

  An accident? As frustrating as it was to have a new bit of information that only offered more questions and no answer, it also scared her. If they didn’t want her or Felix dead, then the sniper had been aiming for Quinn, and it was only by luck that the man she loved was alive.

  Her stomach lurched, and she stumbled.

  I take you just put two and two together? Quinn said.

  He was still watching her? Of course he was. She held back a sigh of relief.

  “I understand,” she said, but more for Quinn’s benefit than in answer to Kilburn. “So why my partner? What did he do to merit a death sentence?”

  Kilburn shrugged. “No idea and not my place to ask. I do the job. I get paid. It’s that simple.”

  Focus, Eva. I’ll stay safe. Since you seem to want to ignore the plan, as usual—she tried not to smile at his irritation—focus on finding the weapon so we can finish this.

  A silver car passed them and took a left at the light, but not before Eva caught a glimpse of the redheaded driver. Temperance? Since when did she do field work?

  “Miss Torres?’ She and Kilburn stopped. She turned. A cop. Dammit. “Yes?”

  “You need to come with me.”

  Stall.

  Quinn’s tone voiced her own panic at seeing the operation ruined.

  I’ll see if this rookie is for real and try to get a message to Harris.

  “You need to come with me, Miss Torres.” The cop’s free hand slid to his night stick. “Detective Harris is looking for you.”

  “You must be mistaken. He cleared me of charges.”

  “If he did, I didn’t get that notice. Come with me, and we can clear this up.”

  “She’s with me,” Kilburn interjected. “Call your boss, and you’ll find the lady’s telling the truth.”

  “She comes with me unless you want to join her,” the rookie insisted, tugging on Eva’s other arm as if she were a rope, and the two men were playing at tug-of-war.

  He was going to blow the whole thing.

  Kilburn stepped away, hand up in surrender. “Take her.”

  “No. Wait.” She tried to follow, but the cop pulled her short. “Wait, and we can work this out.”

  The operation was ruined. Over. What would happen if the second weapon were real?

  Kilburn smiled at Eva. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Please,” she whispered. “Tell him to wait. I’ll meet with him once this is cleared up. We can work this out. No one has to die.”

  He smiled but didn’t confirm or deny her request as he walked away.

  “Watch your head,” the cop said, opening the door and helping her into the backseat.

  “You don’t understand,” she said to the cop, watching her only link to the weapon disappear into the crowd. If she got out now, she could catch up. “I am in the middle of an operation. Call Harris. Now. He’ll verify who I am.”

  “I know who you are, Miss Torres. Now shut the fuck up. One more word, and I will gag that mouth.”

  …

  I should never have let her agree to this.

  Quinn mentally kicked himself as the police car continued down the road. He known this was a bad idea.

  Ahead of him, the police car took a right, entering a familiar street.

  What the hell? The fear in Eva’s voice caught Quinn off guard. Even under the worst of circumstance, she never sounded scared. The knot in his stomach tightened. But the car continued onward, and he realized what had caught her attention—they were driving to the East Coast HRS headquarters.

  What the hell, indeed.

  The cop car parked out front, and Quinn drove past, parked in front of a bank, and watched them through the rearview mirror.

  “What we are doing here?” he heard Eva ask through the transmitter, her voice as clear as if she were next to him.

  “You wanted to meet the boss? Now’s your chance.”

  The realization of what was happening struck Quinn.

  This was a setup to take over HRS and steal back the bioweapon.

  The e-mail. The second weapon. Using Eva. All of it orchestrated to get as many agents busy as fast as possible so they could get inside.

  HRS occupied the top three floors of the ten-story building—the top housing offices, a gym, and cafeteria. The standard company found in anywhere USA. But beneath the cubicles, cheap carpet, and gym was a vault-like sub-basement where the weapon Felix created was being held. For now, the cylinder was safe while the HRS team tried to figure out a way to disarm it, but how long would that last?

  “The boss is here? How did you pull that off?”

  No reply.

  “I asked you a question,” Eva insisted.

  There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Quinn found his hands clenched into fists, furious that someone would dare to hurt her.

  To her credit, she didn’t make a sound. She remained silent and strong.

  “I’ll make him pay,” he said so she could hear it. And he would. In blood.

  She gave no reply, and he didn’t expect one.

  Whatever happened next, they’d need backup. He texted Tempe and sat back to wait for her reply.

  In the mirror, he watched as the cop escorted a still-cuffed Eva out of the car and into HRS.

  And still no answer from Tempe. Protocol said he should wait, but instead, he found himself striding down the pavement. “I’m coming after you,” he said. “I’ll stay out of sight, but there is no way I’m letting you go in there alone.”

  The phone vibrated. Tempe. He answered the incoming. “About time.”

  “It’s been twenty seconds. Did I hear that right? Are they at HRS?”

  “You heard right.”

  “Shit.” Tempe was a hard-ass, but she never swore unless she was truly surprised or in the middle of a fight. Then she had a gutter mouth that would make a Marine blush. “There’s people in there. Lots of them.”

  “I’m going in,” he said.

  “Hold back. I tried calling reception, and there was no answer. That means we’ve been breached.”

  He skirted the side of the building. “I’ll take the back door.”

  “I said to hold back. We’re minutes away.”

  “I’m trained for infiltration, and you know what can happen in five minutes. Are you willing to risk her and the weapon?”

  Silence. “Be careful, and keep the line open as much as you can.”

  “Will do.”

  “Quinn, how is she?”

  She was magnificent, as always. “She’s holding up. So far, they haven’t found the communicator.”

  “That little bastard was worth every penny of R&D,” Tempe said. “Tell her I said to not be stupid and get herself killed.”

  “I’ll pass along your love,” he said and went back to the app that allowed him to communicate with Eva. “I’m back. Can you give me an update?”

  “I thought this boss of yours liked
basements,” Eva said to the cop. “Not anything with a view.” The upper floors where the offices were.

  “Got it,” Quinn said. Of course, that meant he’d be climbing ten flights of stairs in order to rescue Eva.

  She always said he had a white-knight complex. Now it seemed he’d have to scale the tower and defeat the dragon.

  The irony didn’t make him smile. “I’m on my way.”

  …

  Eva’s captor pushed her out the elevator door, and she stumbled into the hall. Reception was empty and so were the halls. Had they spared anyone? And where were the office workers? Captured or dead?

  Are you okay? Quinn asked.

  The cop opened an office, shoving her inside. She fell to the floor, face first, twisting her head so she wouldn’t break her nose or split her lip.

  The door slammed shut, leaving her alone with Quinn, the voice of comfort and strength in her head.

  “So far, yes,” she replied.

  She wiggled onto her back. The cuffs dug into her wrists and spine.

  The room contained two leather chairs, an oversize executive desk, and an assortment of painting and plants lined the inner walls. Windows spanned ceiling to floor on the outer wall, giving her a spectacular view of D.C.— if it wasn’t spoiled by the large bloodstain on the carpet right in the line of sight.

  It seemed she had an answer to whether her co-workers were dead or alive. She tucked away the animosity and anger that rose in her. They may not all be dead, she told herself.

  But if there were others, it was her job to do whatever was needed to keep them alive.

  She worked her hands down her back, but the chain between the metal bracelets was almost nonexistent, giving her no leeway. She couldn’t get past her hips. “Dammit.”

  Are they returning?

  “It’s not that. I can’t get my arms around my ass.” She’d be much happier if she could maneuver her hands to the front.

  Quinn chuckled in her ear.

  “Now is not the time,” she muttered.

  Sorry.

  Voices grew closer, stopping at the door. The hairs on her neck rose. “Someone’s coming.” She struggled to her feet, unbalanced by her bound arms. “Laugh if you want, but do it while running. I think the torture’s about to begin.”

  Hurrying.

  The lock on the door clicked open, and she positioned herself next to it, pressing herself against the wall. It was doubtful she’d win this fight, but she’d try, and if nothing else, she’d buy time for Quinn to get to her.