Bounty Hunter Honor

by Kara Lennox

  “You’ll never get them all, you know.”

  She blushed. “I know. But I can’t help myself.”

  “I can just imagine what you thought of the First Strike office,” he said as he hung up the dish towel he’d been using to dry the soup pan after washing it.

  She promptly whipped the towel off the rack and took it to the laundry room, then got out a fresh one. “I’m surprised there aren’t terrorists standing in line at your door, wanting to collect specimens to cultivate for germ warfare.”

  “We have a certain image to protect.” He flexed his muscles. “Tough guys don’t let a few germs bother them.”

  Nadia didn’t crack a smile. “If you had any idea—” She stopped there.

  THE PACKAGE ARRIVED just before ten o’clock that night.

  It had been a long and rather tedious afternoon and evening for Nadia. Rex had tried to get her to relax. His best guess had been that Peter would take it to the wire, waiting until the last possible moment to deliver the videotape, if he delivered it at all. Peter was playing a psychological game with Nadia, and showing any eagerness to operate under her rules would give her more power.

  If she’d known that, she would have set the deadline earlier. As it was, they had the evening, tonight, and all day tomorrow to play the waiting game. And all the while, God knew what was happening with Lily.

  Nadia tried to watch TV, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to follow even the simplest sitcom plot. She tried to read but encountered the same problems. To pass the time, she built a small blaze in her fireplace. The weather had been mild for January, but still cool enough that the warmth of a fire was welcome. Rex, meanwhile, stalked around her house like a tiger on the prowl with Sophie at his heels, peeking through the blinds at the street, then the overgrown backyard beyond the patio, then the side yard. He went upstairs and down, then back up. His gun was always in the holster at the small of his back.

  At about nine o’clock, Nadia took a pan of lasagna from the freezer and stuck it in the oven. She was not remotely hungry, but Rex might be. He was a big guy. And they both needed to keep up their strength for whatever lay ahead. When it was ready, Rex again joined her in the breakfast nook.

  “I didn’t think I was hungry,” he said, “but this smells great. Where’d you learn to cook?”

  “Mostly from cookbooks. My mother couldn’t do much in the kitchen, and my grandmother was hopeless. She could boil things, but one gets tired of boiled eggs, boiled chicken, boiled cabbage.”

  “No kidding. Well, this is really good.”

  He ate quickly, then fed Sophie from a bag of food he’d brought from the First Strike office.

  They said little as the waiting took a toll on their nerves.

  “You want ice cream?” she asked suddenly. “I have rocky road. And butter pecan.”

  “Sure, I’d—” Suddenly he tensed, laid a hand on her arm and put a finger to his lips. He swiveled his head slowly in all directions, listening intently.

  At first she didn’t know what had caused his reaction. Then she saw that Sophie had gone on the alert, ears pricked, every muscle tense. The dog jumped up and ran to the door, but didn’t make a peep.

  Then Nadia heard what the dog had, a truck engine. In her driveway.

  Rex jumped up and sprinted to the front door to peer out the fish-eye peephole.

  “Quickstep Delivery,” he said. “This could be it. I’ll be just around the corner with Sophie. Open the door wide and scream if anything seems out of the ordinary.”

  She nodded, wiped her suddenly damp hands with her napkin, then headed for the door, anticipating the doorbell. When it rang, she waited a few seconds, taking long, deep breaths, then opened it.

  “Package for you, ma’am.” The delivery person was a woman, small, nonthreatening. With the door open wide, Nadia signed for the package, which was small and wrapped in brown paper—just large enough to hold a videotape.

  The woman handed the box to Nadia and sprinted off. Nadia closed the door. She wanted to rip into the package with hands, fingernails, even teeth. Here, finally, was the evidence she longed for, the pictures that would prove her baby was still alive.

  Or not.

  “Give it to me.”

  She knew that was the wise thing to do. The pack age was potential evidence. And while fingerprints or DNA evidence weren’t essential at this stage—there was no debate as to the kidnapper’s identity—preserving evidence still made sense.

  Rex took the package to the kitchen, where there was plenty of light, and carefully slid his penknife under the tape to remove the paper as Nadia peered around his shoulder.

  When he lifted the lid on the box, it wasn’t what they expected. No videotape, just some wrinkled tissue paper. Then she saw it, a flash of something red, red and sticky….

  Rex must have seen it at the same time, because he shoved her back. “Don’t look!”

  But she wasn’t about to look any closer. She was already dizzy, clutching at the edge of the granite counter to keep from tumbling to the floor.

  Chapter Six

  With his gut clenching, Rex delved deeper into the white tissue paper. Oh, God, don’t let it be, don’t let it be. Then he saw what it was, and said a silent prayer of thanks.

  “It’s not blood,” Rex said quickly. He turned his attention from the box to her, grasping her by the arms to keep her from collapsing. “Nadia, it’s okay, it’s nothing, just a sick joke.”

  Finally he got through to her. She looked up at him, her eyes moist with tears. “Not blood?”

  “No.” He enfolded her into his arms and let her gasp against his shoulder. She wasn’t crying, exactly, just getting air into her lungs, a strange loss of control resulting from intense relief. He’d known this moment would come sooner or later. She’d been holding herself together for a very long time, and it was never a question of if, but when, she would break down.

  Her arms slid around him, and he tried not to think about how good it felt to just hold her. The top of her head didn’t even reach his chin, she was so tiny, and she felt fragile as a little bird. He let himself stroke her curly hair, which felt soft as a cloud.

  His groin hardened, and he could only hope she didn’t notice. He would never take advantage of a woman in such a vulnerable state, but his body didn’t have such a strict code of ethics.

  After a moment she collected herself and pulled away. “I guess I am squeamish,” she said apologetically. “I’ve never gone weak at the knees like that before. What is it? What’s in the box?”

  “I don’t think you should look.”

  But he was too late, she was already looking. “Oh, my God.”

  Peter Danilov had cut off the ear of a doll, poured red syrup on it and had it delivered to Nadia.

  “He is so sick,” Nadia said, shoving the box away.

  “He’s just trying to unnerve you.”

  “Well, he succeeded.”

  “He got the reaction he wanted,” Rex agreed. “The important thing is not to let him know he succeeded. This doesn’t mean he won’t still deliver the video. But he’s not going to do it meekly.”

  “What do we do now?” Nadia asked.

  “We wait. My guess is he’ll—” the phone rang “—call,” Rex finished.

  They checked the caller ID, which told them the call was anonymous. Nadia looked up at him with wide-eyed apprehension. “It’s him. What do I say?”

  “Just don’t let him know he upset you. Remember, be strong. You’re in control of what Peter wants. You make the demands.”

  The cordless phone rang again, loud and shrill in the cavernous kitchen. With a shaking hand, Nadia picked it up and hit the talk button. Rex leaned close so he could hear the other end of the conversation. Her hair tickled his cheek, the almond scent of her shampoo teasing him, reminding him of a burgeoning desire that he did not want.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong, sure.

  “Did you get my present?”
Peter asked, his voice silky.

  “Since you seem to have time to play sick games,” Nadia said coolly, “I’ll make it more challenging. You have until noon tomorrow to deliver the video. Not midnight. Noon. Or it’s the CIA.”

  “You can’t—”

  Nadia hung up on him.

  Rex squeezed her shoulder. “Damn, you’re good.”

  His praise seemed to please her. She smiled tremulously. “Did I do the right thing? I just didn’t think I could stand waiting another whole day. I have to know Lily’s all right.”

  “You did the right thing.” They were still standing very close, the phone clutched in Nadia’s hand between them. Rex took the phone from her cold hand and set it on the base.

  They both jumped when another phone rang. Rex pulled his consciousness away from Nadia and dug his cell phone from its tiny holster on his belt.

  “Yeah,” he growled into the phone.

  “Back at ya.” It was Lori.

  Rex took a deep breath. “Sorry, sis, what do you have?” Lori could hack into the phone company at will. He remembered that last year she’d dated a telecom engineer. He wondered whether she’d really liked him that much, or she just wanted information from him.

  “Was it him?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “He was calling from another pay phone, outside the Crestmont Shopping Center. If we staked out every damn pay phone in the city, we’d have him. As it is—”

  “He’d be gone before we could get there,” Rex finished for her. “Same story as earlier. Map out the sites and maybe we can triangulate where he’s coming from, anyway.”

  “Right. What did he want?”

  “Just to rattle Nadia’s cage. But a word of warning, Lori, and you can pass this on to the other guys. Peter Danilov is one sick puppy. If it comes to a showdown, don’t underestimate him. He’s capable of anything, absolutely anything.”

  He ended the call, then returned his attention to Nadia. “Not good news?” she asked.

  “He was using another pay phone. In Crestmont.”

  “That’s near where my grandmother lived. There’s a pretty large immigrant population in that neighborhood. I’ll bet it’s not far from where Peter’s staying.”

  “His comfort zone,” Rex said. “Someplace where his accent won’t make him stand out. But he won’t use that phone again. He likes to mix it up.”

  “You’ve come to understand him very quickly.”

  “I know his kind. He’s cocky and he’s a bully. He’s intelligent. So long as he has the upper hand, he’s a formidable enemy. But I think he’ll crumble when he realizes just who he’s up against.”

  “I’d like to see the two of you in a fight,” Nadia said, nodding appreciatively. “I know who’d win.”

  “I was talking about you,” he said gently. “You’re the formidable enemy. I’m just the coach.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not strong.”

  He took both of her hands between his and rubbed them. She had felt so warm to him earlier, but now she was freezing. “You’ve stood up to him, and that takes real courage.”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’m so scared. I’m so scared, Rex. What if he sends a real ear the next time? What if he hurts my baby?”

  “I’ll tear him apart.” Brave words, coming from a man who earlier in the day declared he didn’t know if he could muster the gumption to kill someone no matter what the circumstances.

  But it was what Nadia needed to hear. She reached up and touched his face. “Thank you.”

  He moved into her light caress the way a dog does, craving her touch. And before he knew what was happening their lips met. Fueled by tension and pent-up feelings, the kiss was not gentle, but Rex didn’t think Nadia wanted gentle. She battled as fiercely as he did, lips and teeth and tongue waging passionate war, breaking contact briefly for a gasp of oxygen, enough to keep the brain functioning, then together again. Her hands touched him everywhere, his somehow got tangled in that wonderful cloud of hair.

  He didn’t know how the kiss had started, or how he’d let it get so out of hand. With Nadia invading his senses, every sane thought flew from his brain like a flock of crazed chickens fleeing a butcher. The only thing he did know was that he never wanted it to end.

  But it had to end. “Nadia…” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Please,” she said on an anguished groan. “Please don’t let go of me. If you stop touching me, the fear will crush me like an insect.”

  “You’re going to be fine,” he crooned, stroking her hair, trying to defuse the explosive situation. Tenderness, not passion, was what a frightened woman should have.

  “I think I’m going to die.”

  He recognized a full-blown anxiety attack when he saw one. He used to have them himself. Though it had been years, he always kept a current prescription of diazepam in his duffel—just in case. He should get one of the potent little pills for Nadia—Lord knew she could use an antianxiety drug. But the moment he opened his mouth to suggest it, she kissed him with renewed passion. And though he was twice her size, he was helpless to resist. His own desires had been whipped up into such a frenzy, they threatened to consume him.

  “You must think I’m crazy,” Nadia said when she came up for air.

  “I know you’re making me crazy,” he said before he could think of a more appropriate rejoinder. Then, clearing his senses slightly, he added, “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re beautiful and smart and brave, and you’re overcome with emotions.”

  “Why am I doing this?” she asked on the verge of tears. “Why do I need this now? I swear I’m going to die.”

  He understood exactly what was going on with her. He’d seen soldiers in prebattle situations. In times of extreme life-or-death stress, emotion found an outlet where it could—sex, violence, uncontrollable weeping. Given the other choices, sex wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Still, he wasn’t comfortable with it. Though at this point his hormones threatened complete domination over his brain, he still had some semblance of conscience left. He couldn’t take advantage of Nadia. It was possible that she might eventually forgive him, but he could never forgive himself.

  “Stop thinking,” she said, sliding her hands under his T-shirt. He shuddered at the feel of her soft hands against bare skin.

  “Nadia…”

  Without warning she withdrew her hands and pulled her sweatshirt over her head, revealing a lacy white bra. His gaze fixed on her breasts, full and golden, straining against the lace as if aching for his touch.

  He looked back at her face, and whatever objection had been forming died in his throat. She didn’t want to beg, but somehow he knew she would if she had to.

  He stopped resisting, knowing there was no point. He wanted her as much as she did him, and she wouldn’t be leading this charge if she didn’t know how to handle it, he reasoned. She wasn’t some sheltered virgin.

  Decision made, there were no holds barred now. Rex pushed her up against the refrigerator and kissed her hard, which only seemed to inflame her further. While he worked the front clasp of her bra, she squeezed his butt, then slid her hands around to his zipper to flirt with the obvious hardness there.

  His hands shaking, his concentration shot by her bold caresses, he had to admit defeat with the damned bra. She pushed his hands aside and took it off herself. Then she was standing in front of him in only her jeans and socks, bare from the waist up, her breasts smooth and golden with only the hint of last summer’s tan lines from a very brief bikini.

  The glare of the kitchen lights seemed all the harsher shining on Nadia’s softness. “Not here,” he said, eyeing the tile floor and granite counters. Nadia needed softness around her.

  She nodded somberly, took his hand and led him without a word through the kitchen and into the entrance hall. Sophie, snoozing on the carpet near the door, opened her eyes briefly to make sure this new activity didn’t concern her, then closed them again. />
  Rex had thought Nadia was heading for the master bedroom, but instead she veered off to the darkened living room, to a white, faux-fur rug near the fireplace.

  It was the perfect backdrop.

  With uncommon efficiency they worked together to peel off Nadia’s jeans, panties and socks. His clothes followed. He didn’t try to slow things down. He knew what she needed now—she needed it fast and emphatic. Frankly, at this point, he wasn’t in the mood for slow, longing looks and lingering caresses. He wanted to possess her, to exorcise her demons with the heat of his sex.

  She looked amazing in the firelight, her hair cascading around her shoulders and down, the curls teasing the rosy tips of her breasts.

  Following his instincts, he leaned down and took one nipple in his mouth. She tasted sweet, and he swirled his tongue in circles, rewarded by Nadia’s low groan of pleasure.

  She clung to him, unable to hold herself up, and they more or less fell to their knees, then all the way down onto the pillowy rug. He kissed the other breast, kneading both and raking the nipples with his teeth as Nadia writhed and gasped and dug her fingernails into his back.

  He needed no further foreplay, but he didn’t want to hurt Nadia by overestimating her eagerness. He reached between her legs and stroked her soft folds, and she opened for him like a flower dripping nectar.

  “Now, Rex, please, I can’t stand it anymore.”

  He needed no further coaxing. But he did need protection. He should have thought of that before. “I’ll be right back.”

  By some miracle, he found a condom in an inside pocket of his jacket. When he returned to Nadia, she still had her eyes closed, waiting, perfectly trusting. Amazing.

  He lay back down beside her and took care of the protection. Then he returned his attention to his beautiful flower.

  “You’re sure?”

  She groaned something that sounded like a yes, and he plunged inside her, sheathing himself to the hilt, and those fingernails dug into his shoulders again as she took him.