by Lora Leigh
Wayne had been busy, Crowe reflected bitterly as he tossed the reports to the table before him and stared around the small room he’d taken to locate the multiple monitors and computers running the security programs and assessing national and state as well as private and business security systems throughout Colorado and several other surrounding states.
The little electronic bot programs Ivan sent out through the Internet to attach to the public security systems damned well beat any Crowe had seen outside the intelligence community. They sifted through millions of faces that passed thousands of cameras across Colorado, especially the counties closest to Corbin County.
Some days, Wayne was a busy little beaver.
A week before in Boulder, two days before that in Montrose. He hadn’t yet ventured into Corbin County as far as the cameras had detected.
Crowe had a feeling Wayne was closer than any of them could guess, though. He wouldn’t have left Corbin County, and—unlike the FBI agents—Crowe was sure he hadn’t left the state or the country.
Wayne had no intentions of escaping. Nothing in the world mattered as much to the man as destroying the Callahans’ lives before they had a chance to get used to the happiness they were finding.
And the news stations were flashing stories of the Callahans’ happiness daily. Crowe made certain they were. They were especially focusing on Crowe and his new lover, Amelia Sorenson, the daughter of the man the world was coming to revile. The daughter the public was seeing as strong, compassionate, and a leading figure in past battles with the Slasher, the uncaring county attorney who had attempted to destroy the Callahans.
Stories were beginning to filter in about the many and varied citizens she’d helped escape the vengeful wrath of the man who wielded enough power to falsify evidence or have it planted against those he considered his enemies.
The young man whose family home was saved after Amelia had managed to slip the family’s lawyer proof that the owner couldn’t have been involved in the large excavation of marijuana found growing in his basement, because he had been out following his hobby. A camping and rock climbing enthusiast, he had been perched on a cliff somewhere in Asia about the time the crop had been planted, and he’d been recovering from a fall in Budapest when the authorities had harvested it.
He’d returned home in time to face several DEA agents and Wayne Sorenson as he’d unlocked his front door. Wayne had proof the owner couldn’t have been involved. He’d attempted to destroy it, knowing the guide who’d dropped him off at the bottom of the cliff was on an extended trip somewhere in the Congo and unreachable. The doctor and nurse who had treated him and sent the original documents had then contracted a case of sudden forgetfulness after the file they’d sent Wayne “disappeared.”
Wayne thought he’d shredded all proof. Amelia had been terrified he was right until she checked the memory card she’d programmed the fax machine to store all information in. It was still there, within hours of being overwritten by the time she’d managed to get to the office ahead of Wayne and send it to the homeowner’s attorney.
There were families who had nearly lost their homes after having their receipts for cash payments of land taxes mysteriously disappear. Records in the county attorney’s office would show nonpayment with the county taking possession immediately to pay the delinquent bills. Just as mysteriously, those receipts would be found. Under a doormat, in a vehicle’s seat; one had been found stuck in the collar of the family dog after it came in from a trip outside.
Hell, Crowe had known who had been behind it the minute he heard the stories, just as each victim had learned who had saved their lands or family members framed for crimes. Or even auxiliary members, it was rumored, whose husbands had been framed or sons targeted.
That story had been particularly satisfying to hear, Crowe thought. Watching it hours before, he’d smiled smugly at his own ingenuity in digging up the information. Because it sure as hell hadn’t been easy. It wasn’t as though Amelia had been wise enough to give him even a particle of the information he’d come up with. Hell no, his agents had dug it up by following this thread of information, then that one, then digging like sons of bitches to get enough to threaten to fill in the gaps themselves.
Only then had the auxiliary members—such as the mayor’s wife, Ruth Anne Justin, and her daughter, Linda, the wife of the current Corbin County attorney, Jason Grandor—spilled their reluctant, less-than-pleased little guts.
Giving the security monitors that viewed the estate a final glance, he gestured to the tech to keep watch before leaving the room and going in search of Amelia. He knew she had an appointment scheduled that afternoon with several entertainers scheduled for the spring social season. Why she had elected to keep the meeting, he wasn’t certain. He’d be damned if he would have given that damned auxiliary the satisfaction of doing any damned thing.
The fact that his sister had fought for and won the title of social planning director didn’t affect his feelings on it whatsoever.
Hell, Anna should have known better that to take the position. She and Amelia both should have left that damned committee hanging in the wind. Just as they had intended to leave Amelia hanging.
Grimacing at the thought of their reactions should he voice his opinion, he stepped into the kitchen in time to watch Amelia finish her coffee next to the sink.
“You sure we’re going to that meeting?” he asked her, bracing his hand against the door frame as he glared at her.
“Stop staring at me like that,” she ordered.
He narrowed his gaze. “Like what?” Like he wanted to fuck her? She should be used to that by now.
“Like you believe I should be locked away for my own safety or something,” she drawled, that slightest edge of amusement a hell of a lot better than the stoicism she’d carried in the past days.
“Or something,” he agreed with a disgusted little grunt. “Those women don’t deserve your damned help.”
“Anna does,” she refuted.
“Anna only demanded the position to give it back to you,” he argued. “Only this time you have to drag Anna along with you, bitching every breath.”
* * *
Amelia couldn’t help but grin at that comment, because it was the truth.
“She threatened to neuter the fairy clown yesterday.” She gave a muffled laugh at the memory as she moved away from the sink toward him. “Are you ready to leave?”
“What time’s the damned meeting?” he asked.
She glanced quickly at the watch on her wrist. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Five minutes per block.” He grinned. “That works for me. It would give me time to talk some sense into you.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “It never takes me five minutes to walk a block, Crowe. If it takes you that long then I’m going to wonder how you keep all those tight, manly muscles.”
“Wal-Mart,” he stated somberly. “They were on special one weekend.”
Wal-Mart, her ass. If Wal-Mart was selling muscles like that, on special or not, then they’d stay packed.
“I’ll be sure to post that information on Facebook,” she grinned as he helped her put on the heavy, faux-fur-lined coat over her shoulders. “I can think of a lot of interested parties.”
“I bought all they had,” he assured her as he opened the front door to face a black jacket wall of Brute Force agents. “Come on then, fairy-girl, let’s take your little walk.”
“My little walk,” she murmured. “Who can enjoy it with a wall of bodyguards surrounding them?”
Stepping into the clear mountain air she inhaled slowly, filling her lungs with the crisp, cold wintry air as they moved down the steps of the portico to the cement walk that led around the driveway to the black metal gates.
Gates that were free of reporters hanging off them for a change. They’d disappeared with Crowe’s arrival at the house, and hadn’t returned.
At least, not yet.
“How did you get rid of the leeches?” s
he asked as the small sidewalk gate was opened by one of the security agents.
Standing back, the two agents watched the area carefully as two moved in before them and two behind them.
“Feed the beasts and they’ll go on their way,” he grunted.
“Until it’s time for them to eat again,” she pointed out. “Then they’ll be right back.”
“In that case, I may have a few meals prepared for their consumption,” he stated in satisfaction. “Let’s just say we have them taken care of for a bit.”
Frowning, she tried to get a good look at the street across from them to get ideas for decorations should the Fairy Carriage use the street as one of its routes. She found her way blocked by a black wall.
“This is ridiculous, Crowe,” she muttered.
“Yeah, reporters tend to carry that title.” He spoke as though he believed they were still on the subject of journalists.
Glowering back at him, Amelia tightened her lips and came to a quick stop.
The agent behind her nearly tripped over her.
Crowe seemed unsurprised. Pausing, he looked down at her, one black brow arching arrogantly over those predatory eyes. “Problem, sweetheart?”
“Make them move,” she ordered, her tone completely reasonable and logical, she was certain. “I can’t see where I’m going, nor can I get an idea of what’s needed if I can’t see the street as we walk.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But neither can anyone get a clear line of sight, either.”
Drawing on what little remaining patience she possessed, Amelia shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and glared up at him from beneath her lashes.
“Move them, Crowe, or I promise you I’ll find a way to do what has to be done without you.”
His head lowered, his gaze hardening. “I’ll take pictures for you. Hell, I’ll have video taken for you, but I will not have them move and risk Wayne or some dumb bastard he’s hired attempting to put a bullet in your head.”
Amelia curled her fingers into fists.
She liked to think she wasn’t an ignorant person. She didn’t get into public confrontations, no matter who the conflict was with. She didn’t give others a reason to gossip about her if at all possible.
She had no intentions of starting now.
“I’m ready to return to the house.” Turning, she began walking the short distance back. “I’ll have Anna bring the entertainers there.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him. She definitely wasn’t going to attempt to knock any sense into him while the agents were watching and listening so curiously.
“Amelia, you don’t have to return to the house,” he stated reasonably.
“Will you have them get out of my way then?” She didn’t bother to glance at him as she continued to walk. She had a feeling she knew his answer.
“I can’t do that,” he sighed. “But I know you wanted to see a few of the grottoes—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she suggested briskly, increasing her stride as they neared the iron fence surrounding Wayne’s property.
“I won’t let you risk yourself like that.” His voice was tighter now.
The gate was opened as it had been before. Two security guards moved to each side as the other four surrounded them instead.
Pulling her cell phone from her coat pocket, she quickly texted Anna that she wouldn’t be able to come to the meeting, but Anna could bring the entertainers to the house instead.
Really? Anna texted back with a frownie face icon. Suggested this 2 Crowe 2day. He said NO! Archer says Crowe has to call first.
Amelia texted back. Tell Archer you get to take care of this then.
Amelia stopped in the middle of the walk, glaring at the phone before slowly turning her gaze up to Crowe as she ignored the now frantic pinging of the text messages Anna was rapidly sending.
He stared back at her coolly, his gaze implacable as it lifted from the screen of the phone to meet hers.
“Making decisions for me, Crowe?” she asked him softly.
“Protecting you,” he amended, his voice low as he gripped her upper arm firmly and began moving toward the house once again.
“Protecting me,” she repeated with a bitter little laugh. “Yeah, that’s what Wayne said when he locked me in the basement for two days and nights when you returned two years ago. He was just protecting me.”
Jerking her arm out of his grip, she stalked up the steps to the door, entering the house and quickly stripping her coat. She hung it neatly in the closet, refusing to look at him. She could feel him staring at her, silently searing her as she ignored him.
“Leave,” he ordered the guards, his voice dangerously quiet as Amelia strode from the foyer.
She didn’t hear their response. She rather expected they hadn’t given him one.
People tended to just obey Crowe without argument.
“Don’t fucking turn your back on me and act as though I don’t exist.” The harsh growl rasped from his throat as Amelia found herself suddenly swung around to face him.
She simply wasn’t in the mood to be pulled around or manhandled. Even gently.
Rising to her tiptoes, getting as close to the glitter of amber in his gaze as possible, she let loose.
“Don’t imagine, for even a moment, Crowe Callahan, that I’m one of your employees or one of your damned starstruck flunkies, because I’m not. You may get your orders obeyed, but trust me, it’s only because you’re stronger, not because I agree with you by any stretch of the imagination.” Her finger poked into his chest with a quick, imperious little jab as she snarled the declaration out at him.
“My what?” Incredulity filled his tone.
“You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the desk on the far side of the room. “You can leave now to do whatever skulking around it is that you do and leave me the hell alone. As far as I’m concerned, I’m finished with you for the moment.”
* * *
Finished with him.
She was finished with him?
“Oh baby, I thought you knew me better than that,” he drawled, allowing his lashes to drift partially over his gaze to hide the full effect of his intentions.
“I know you as well as I need to know you.” She tossed her head like a feisty little mare.
Well hell, that was okay, because he was just the stud for her.
He smiled. A slow, easy curve of his lips as he turned and walked back to the wide double doors leading to the foyer.
And closed them before deliberately sliding the lock in place.
“Ya know, sugar elf,” he breathed out with deliberate relish as he turned back to her. “You’re getting ready to know me a whole lot better.”
Wariness had filled her gaze, darkening the turquoise color and giving it a faintly green cast. Like the ocean just before dusk.
“I’m not in the mood for this.”
Oh yeah, he was just that easy to turn off—or not.
* * *
Amelia cursed her own unruly tongue and her untamed body.
Son of a bitch, she knew better than to dare him.
It was common knowledge: Don’t dare a Callahan, you’ll regret it.
But what had she done? She’d gone and dared the most stubborn, most determined, and definitely the most darkly sexual Callahan known to draw a breath.
“Crowe, trust me, this isn’t the time.” She narrowed her eyes on him and hardened her tone.
As though that was going to work, she thought with a spurt of sarcasm.
“Oh baby, trust me, when it comes to you, it’s always the time.”
He paused several feet from her and pulled off the leather jacket he wore before tossing it over the back of a couch.
Her eyes widened at the shoulder holster and lethal handgun he wore. The same one he unclipped and laid over the jacket a moment later.
“You’re falling behind, sugar elf,” he warned her, taking a seat on the lar
ge wingback chair next to the couch and unlacing his boots.
“In what way? Undressing?” she snorted. “It’s the middle of the day, and I’m sure Anna will be here any moment…”
He shook his head as he spoke. “No, she won’t be.”
“Why not?” He seemed entirely too confident. That wasn’t good.
“Archer texted. Told me to send a message if he needed to bring Anna over here. I didn’t text him back.”
Great, they were conspiring together. Just what she needed, her best friend’s lover conspiring with her own. That simply wasn’t fair.
“I’ll be certain to tell Anna the two of you have your own little codes,” she suggested sweetly.
She acknowledged she could possibly be in just a bit of trouble here. Trouble she had been counting on Anna to bail her out from with a speedy little arrival and several social entertainers.
It appeared that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m sure Anna’s already figured that one out, darlin’,” he promised her. “And now, you’re really behind.”
His boots were off and lying carelessly beneath the chair as she watched him with an edge of caution.
Rising to his feet, he stared back at her with that knowing little smile that was guaranteed to spell trouble.
“I’m not having sex with you.” Sometimes, that worked, to just take a stand with him immediately and let him know how it was going to be.
In this case, that dark chuckle that left his lips definitely spelled trouble.
“Works for me,” he informed her with a sexy smile. “I’ll just have sex with you. All you have to do is lie there, sugar elf.”
Her mouth almost dropped open in incredulity. “You are so not serious.”
“I am so very damned serious,” he informed her, all amusement easing from his expression. “Done with me, are you, baby? Let me show you just how done with you I am not.”
CHAPTER 11
“Crowe, this is not the best idea you’ve had in a while,” she informed him nervously as he took a step toward her. “Actually, it’s going to end up being one of your worst.”