Nowhere Safe

by Dianna Love

  Her eyes said she liked nice. A lot.

  See, Sabrina? I’ve got this just fine. “Happy to oblige any time. And you look amazing.”

  She gave him an almost smile, something reserved and polite that a person used in mixed company or at family gatherings with inlaws. “Thanks. I’m ready to go.”

  Reserved meant she’d mentally backed away from him again.

  He had his work cut out tonight, but he was up for the task now that he’d seen her respond to his touch. There would be no walking away from her tonight until he’d torn down some of her walls and gotten inside her defenses.

  He would accept nothing less than full surrender.

  Chapter 10

  Trish glanced over at the side of the stage again. Josh was still there in spite of her suggesting he meander around the banquet area and get something to eat and drink before the masses descended on this event.

  “State your name and say test a couple of times,” Harry Hanover, the emcee for this event directed Trish to the center of the stage.

  She moved to the microphone and did as he asked, squinting as she got used to the blazing lights, her gaze moving across what she could see of the roomful of hobnobbers pretending to have meaningful conversations with television celebrities, Miami’s crème de la crème.

  Trish finished her mic check and the tv-station cameraman leaned out from behind his setup at the center of the room and gave thumbs up. Once the emcee told her she was set, Trish walked off the stage and up to Josh. “That’s it for now.”

  “This is quite a production.” He looked down at her hands that were clutched in front of her. “Nervous?”

  She wanted to sound chic and confident, to tell him she wasn’t nervous, but he reached for her hands, lifted them to his lips and brushed a kiss across the knuckles of each one.

  Don’t sigh. Hard not to when faced with a man whose touch sent electricity sparking along her skin.

  She started to pull her hands back until he lifted his head and smiled at her, saying, “You’re going to do great.”

  Sighing was back on the front burner of her mind. He had a great smile, an endearing one that made her want to drop her defenses. He was trying to get through to her. Trying hard.

  But why? She couldn’t help her suspicious mind. She’d been too quick to trust in the past. Everything about Josh was inviting. Easy. Too much so.

  She yanked her stray thoughts back under control and eased her hands from his grasp. “Thanks. I am nervous, but I believe I’ve got just as good a chance as the others.” I have to keep telling myself that. “Sounds like there’s a lot of people out there. We should probably mingle.”

  Josh moved aside to allow her to go first, but the minute she stepped away he put his palm against her lower back and she had to clench her teeth to keep from gasping at the feel of his hand on her skin. Rather than tell him not to touch her, she arched her back a little to create space.

  He adjusted, maintaining the contact.

  She should tell him to move his hand, but she was afraid her mouth would end up saying she wanted him to move it inside her dress.

  When they reached the banquet area, piano tunes twirled through the artfully lit room of candlelight and ice sculptures. A low buzz of conversation built where business people clustered in pockets.

  Josh snagged a server and asked Trish, “What would you like?”

  “Nothing right now.” She never allowed anyone to bring her a drink, but didn’t want to go into that with Josh. She had to do some moving and shaking, preferably without Gorgeous attached to her back, distracting her. Trish looked around absently. “I’m going to the ladies room and I see a couple people I’m going to speak to on the way so just enjoy yourself and I’ll find you. Okay?”

  His fingers brushed along her cheek then down her neck. “I’ll be right here when you return.”

  She hadn’t been touched in a long time, not like this. It took all the discipline she could muster not to move into his touch. She had to get away from him long enough to regroup. “You’re free to move around and meet people, you know. You don’t have to be with me every minute.”

  His fingers touched her chin and tilted it up until she had to face his unyielding gaze. “I’m not interested in meeting anyone else tonight.”

  It wasn’t what he said so much as the way he said it, in a voice that climbed inside her and settled in for the night. Her insides squirmed and twisted around, wanting to make room for him. She didn’t understand this strange reaction to Josh.

  When his fingers drifted down her neck to her shoulder, she finally said, “Can’t believe this.”

  “What?”

  “You. Us.”

  His fingers paused and he stared at her, thoughts gathering behind his gaze until he lowered his hand. “Thought you had to visit the ladies room.”

  He pulled back from her so quickly she was stunned, wondering what she’d said to cause the change, but it allowed her to regain her balance. She shook herself out of the mesmerizing stupor his touch had put her in and backed away. “Seriously. Go mingle. I’ve got work to do, so I’ll find you later.”

  But not until I have to sit down at the table with you.

  Somewhere that she wouldn’t be able to fall under whatever spell had her wanting Josh Robertson.

  AA

  Watching Trish head across the room, slowing to speak to a distinguished couple on her way, Josh tried to shake off the moment of déjà vu that gripped him. Trish had no way of knowing how her words had hit him like a splash of cold water.

  Chelsea had said similar words to him the first night they’d met away from work. She’d said, “Hard to believe.”

  He’d said, “What?”

  “You. Us.”

  But Chelsea had laughed and jumped in that night with both feet, unconcerned about becoming intimate with an operative. She’d lived for the moment, not caring what tomorrow brought. That’s what had convinced him they could carve out a place in time that was theirs. Somewhere he could go and not feel alone.

  He’d been a fool to pursue a fool’s dream with her. But Chelsea had known exactly who he was and how he operated.

  Trish didn’t know him. Didn’t know the danger she danced near.

  Doesn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. She might be the person helping drug runners.

  But what if she wasn’t? What if she really was what she seemed–a strong, gifted woman who had built her world back from the pit of alcoholism and was as sweet as she appeared?

  This was not the time for his conscience to rear its head.

  His job was to find out what she knew about Zane possibly being the DEA traitor. Teens were dying from Spa Zing and Len Rikker was at large somewhere here in Miami. Trish might even be in contact with him.

  Josh had to get close enough to find answers. He was on track with Trish and knew what to do. He’d gotten through her walls and knew how to get through them again. And keep getting through them until they crumbled. Touching was necessary and often.

  Good thing that was easy for him because he liked touching Trish. Maybe liked it a little too much, truth told, but he couldn’t let up, not when he was clearly making headway. He needed to keep his head about him though. He’d almost fallen into her gaze when she’d spoken those words and emotion had flickered in her eyes.

  Think like the operative you are. Cold. Distant. Objective.

  Damn straight. When a server stopped by, Josh ordered a club soda and watched Trish until she disappeared through double doors to the hallway that led to the ladies room.

  How long would she be gone? She would circle around this crowd to speak to people without him at her side. Was she meeting someone?

  What had she said back at the task force offices?

  You’ll be in my way.

  In her way for what? Even though he’d gotten to her just now, she’d tried to get rid of him again. Why?

  Charming women had never been a problem and Josh had learned early on that he
wasn’t an ugly guy. Women liked his looks. Liked his attention. In fact, women he’d targeted on missions in the past had dragged him around the room, showing him off like a fashion accessory.

  But he was missing something with Trish. Sabrina had hit too close to the truth when she’d insinuated that he hadn’t been with a woman in a while. Once he’d healed from the gunshot wound, he’d gone off alone to shake the garbage out of his head. Sabrina had dragged him back ten months ago, but he still had clutter banging around upstairs.

  That didn’t mean he’d forgotten anything about women, dammit.

  Good thing he had a tough ego.

  Because until just now, Trish had done her best to stomp on it. Didn’t she trust her own brother? Evidently not since she’d been repeatedly shooting Josh down like a low-flying goose. And just when he’d had her on the line, about to set the hook, the mental garbage had crashed into him again and he’d backed off.

  Maybe Sabrina was right. Maybe your heart’s not in it any more.

  But then, Sabrina had also suggested sending Nick in Josh’s place. Fuck that. Josh accepted the glass of soda when the server returned, but wished for a belt of scotch. No alcohol tonight. He was about to lay siege to Miss Jackson’s emotional fortress, and drinking alcohol would be an unwise tactical move around someone recently out of rehab.

  “Where’s your date or did she stand you up?” Ryder said as he stepped around Josh and turned to face him, grinning.

  Sending the FNG down to bust my balls is going to cost you at some point, Sabrina.

  “That’s some tuxedo,” Ryder continued, not paying any attention to Josh’s scowl. “Not a rent-a-tux kinda guy, are you?” Ryder wore a decent off-the-rack brand that fit reasonably well on his six-foot frame, doing an acceptable job of hiding the man’s bulk. And his weapon.

  Josh supposed some women found Ryder’s intentional five o-clock shadow, Colgate smile and not-really-styled, sandy-brown hair attractive. Ignoring the FNG’s irritating questions, Josh asked, “What’re you doing here?”

  “Like you. I’m on the clock.”

  “Where’d you get a ticket?”

  “Sabrina. She thought you might like company.”

  No, she didn’t. But Josh wouldn’t argue a moot point when he had more pressing things on his mind, like figuring out how to get past Trish’s mile-high walls and determining if she had any information on Zane’s activities.

  Or if she was helping Zane.

  Josh waited as a server passed by before he spoke again. “Where’ve you been today?”

  Watching their perimeter as well, Ryder dropped his voice. “Followed Zane since early this morning until he settled at the task force office. After you left there, I went in to introduce myself to Zane as a DEA field operative from Boston in for training.”

  “Thought you were coming in as FBI.”

  “Sabrina wanted me to get inside Zane’s operation and thought this would be the fastest way.”

  Thanks for the vote of no confidence, Sabrina. You really don’t think I can get what we need out of Zane’s sister, do you? It still stung to know that Sabrina had been shifting him to easy work and he’d never clued in.

  Shit. She wanted Len Rikker just as much as Josh, and dammit, she was right about one thing. Josh couldn’t watch everybody in the office while he focused on the women in Zane’s life.

  Much as he’d like for the FNG to vanish on the spot, he needed the guy, and he’d share a beer with Satan if it meant getting a lead on the DEA mole. “Are you in with Zane?”

  Ryder took a sip of his drink. “Looks like it. I spent some time with him and asked a lot of questions, but I didn’t ask him specifics about how his informant division works.”

  Josh had spent more than three months embedded in the office, and had explored every corner of how they ran their ops. He could hold out and let the FNG figure it out for himself.

  Or he could get over himself, suck it up and be a “team player” which is what Sabrina expected. What she needed from him if he was going to help her build her business. If he was going to convince her he could still be a viable part of their tight-knit unit.

  He swirled the drink in his glass, staring into the bubbles and ice cubes like it was a crystal ball. Screw it.

  Josh turned to the FNG. “DEA pilots fly private cargo charters for Black Jack Airlines that Zane operates. The actual office for Black Jack Airlines is at Sunshine Airfield. Zane has a dispatcher-manager on site. He comes and goes as a pilot, managing behind the scenes, which means he keeps no set schedule at the task force offices either.”

  He took a sip of his drink that was sadly lacking in alcohol content and waited for the FNG to process the information.

  Winking first at a young woman strolling by, Ryder took a drink and said, “I got the scoop on the new courier cover operation he’s setting up.”

  Josh raised an eyebrow, which FNG apparently took as the signal to spill.

  “Zane has five vans that look like hell,” he said, “but he says they’ll run like scalded piss ants. They all have hidden GPS tracking. The DEA figured out similar vans were stolen in a two-mile area down south of the city in Kendall right before each of the last High Vision contraband deals went down. The vans were found after the missed busts. Torched.”

  A pattern. That was a break. “Who knows about this?”

  “Zane, Ben, Vance, our boss Macpherson and now me. I’m going to be driving a van for him. The minute we get word of another High Vision shipment coming in, I’ll find a place to park in the steal zone and abandon the van.”

  “You find out anything else?”

  Ryder’s gaze snuck sideways, clearly scoping out more female scenery. His eyes were bright with humor when they came back to Josh. “Only that you’re batting zero with Zane’s sister.” Ryder scratched his jaw. “Maybe I should take a crack at her. Saw the picture of Patricia in the files. She’s cute.”

  Josh sent a warning glare at Ryder. Just in case the loudmouth didn’t get Josh’s silent message, he added, “Stay away from Trish. I’m making headway with her.”

  “Not what I heard.” Ryder shook his head and frowned in false concern. “I’ve never had much trouble with women. I’m happy to step in and help. That’s what partners are for.”

  Josh counted to ten, listing the ways he could kill Ryder without getting blood on his tux. “You’re misinformed.”

  “Really? ‘Cause Leanne told me about you offering to accompany Zane’s sister tonight, but that Patricia Jackson wanted no part of you.”

  How could the FNG know Leanne well enough already to have that conversation? “When did she tell you that?”

  “Right after she agreed to go to dinner with me this week.”

  Cocky bastard. “What happened at the task force office was a misunderstanding that’s been corrected. I’ve already informed Zane that Trish changed her mind, and she’s here. With me.”

  “Trish–” Ryder drug out the name for emphasis, “is here...now...with you?” Ryder made a show of looking around as he spoke. “Damn if I see her, bro. Want me to hunt her down for you?”

  Want me to rearrange your head so it would look natural when you talk out of your ass? “No.”

  Ryder’s attention moved around as fast as a feather in the wind. When he finally zeroed in on a target, he whistled under his breath. “Man. Take a look at that hot number would you?”

  Josh had already seen the slick redhead someone had addressed as Kellie. She strutted through the crowd. She’d stop, visit, then move on, leaving a trail of tongues dragging the floor.

  Nice packaging. Too bad she didn’t really do it for him.

  Now if she had cocoa eyes and silky black curls...

  But until a few minutes ago, Trish had been trying hard to act as if he didn’t do it for her. Then she’d ditched him again.

  Why? There’s that question again. Was it just him or men in general? She’d been very friendly with Leanne. Could that mean that Trish and Leanne were...?


  No way. Leanne had notched more than one garter belt with her male conquests in the time Josh had been in Miami. She’d probably add the FNG by the end of the week.

  Trish’s body had told the tale earlier, when she’d reacted to Josh, but she’d tried to hide it. She’d backed away again, as soon as he’d stopped touching her and given her space. Pretending he didn’t affect her.

  Josh would prove her a liar as soon as he got her alone tonight. His fingers itched to touch her again, to push his face into that silky hair that smelled like peaches tonight. Visit those pink panties again...and slide them down while he kissed the trail they left.

  Damn, he was getting hard thinking about her.

  Shit. No pulling off panties. Yeah, that’s what he’d do on any normal op. What he used to do all the time to get information. But maybe he wouldn’t need to do that with Trish. He should be able to get inside her defenses without seducing her all the way into bed. That way, if she wasn’t involved he didn’t have to destroy another piece of his soul.

  Ryder snagged a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “I’d have surprised her with flowers when I picked her up at home. You did pick her up at home, didn’t you? That’s pretty much step number one in dating.”

  If Ryder said another word that sounded like a Cosmo how-to article, Josh would have to hurt him. Not right now, but just as soon as Sabrina wouldn’t be put it in a pinch while Ryder recovered from an ass whipping.

  Josh handed off his empty glass to someone carrying a tray and charred his tone with threat when he asked Ryder, “Are you still here?”

  “I’m giving everyone the impression that you actually have a friend. Maybe Trish will see me and come up to talk. I don’t mind hanging around to pull in the women.”

  Josh changed his mind.

  Sabrina could hire another FNG to replace this soon-to-be-headless one.

  Ryder glanced up, finally seemed to notice the effect he was having on Josh, and said, “On the other hand, you look like you could use some alone time.” He turned to walk away, but made a parting shot. “You may want to practice smiling before she gets here.”