by Mia Dymond
Steele pinched the bridge of his nose. Was there anyone she wouldn’t challenge? He lifted his head and glanced at Sterling, now clenching his fists.
“Shadow, do you have the target?”
“Negative, Captain. Blondie’s in my crosshairs.”
Sterling glanced at Steele. “We need a diversion.”
“Want me to go in?”
Sterling shook his head. “Too risky.”
Steele moved his gaze back to the living room and shook his head. Once again, the pint-sized loudmouth seemed oblivious to the fact she was held at gunpoint by a maniac.
“You don’t look like a terrorist.”
“Cameron!” Rachel groaned and grabbed her arm.
“Well, he doesn’t.”
Diego laughed. “You amuse me, little one. I prefer to think of myself as an international businessman who specializes in political strategies.”
Rachel snorted. “That’s one way to put it.” She slowly inched away from him and dragged Cameron along with her.
“Target acquired.” Steele shoved himself into battle mode when Shadow finally spoke.
“Hold up,” Sterling cautioned. “We don’t want collateral damage.”
“Affirmative.”
Sterling stood bone still in the doorway, watching and waiting for the opportune moment. Brett’s nerves tingled as he awaited direction. Then he heard Sterling’s muffled curse. Brett glanced into the living room as all hell broke loose.
Diego’s gun discharged. The sound of breaking glass brought Hawke through the front window and racing toward Rachel. Sterling’s gun fired and then Diego fell to the floor, blood seeping from a hole in the center of his forehead. Cameron stood in the middle of the chaos, shell-shocked and oblivious to the danger. With only one option remaining, Brett went airborne, knocked Cameron off her feet, and glued her to the floor.
“Max,” she whispered just before her eyes fluttered closed.
Brett lifted his head in shock. Max? A mischievous grin creased his lips. Sweet.
He looked over his shoulder to see Shadow step through the broken window and nudge Diego with his boot. “One less arms dealer to worry about.”
“Hawke!” Max bellowed as he dialed his cell phone.
Shadow pried Hawke’s arms from around Rachel and rolled him to his back. “He’s down, Captain.”
“I’m fine,” Hawke mumbled from the floor, “it’s just a scratch.”
Max glanced around the room and strained to hear something from the peanut gallery. Finally, his gaze rested on two snakeskin pumps pinned beneath Steele’s iron body. Hell, maybe they really were in Oz.
“Steele, what’s your status?”
Steele rolled to one side. “We’re good. I think she’s got the wind knocked out of her.”
“Either that or she’s hurt,” Max said, amazed something had actually shut her up.
Max squatted next to Hawke and rubbed away the blood from Hawke’s biceps. He squeezed the edges of skin together to stop the bleeding.
“Gee-zus, Max,” Hawke hissed.
“Don’t be such a baby, Hawke,” he drawled. “Your woman is here.”
Hawke responded with a menacing stare.
“Just a flesh wound. Barely grazed him.”
“You’ll have a helluva scar though,” Steele said.
Rachel gave Steele a heated glare, obviously unimpressed by his enthusiasm.
Max squatted next to Steele and placed two fingers against Sleeping Beauty’s wrist.
Steele raised an eyebrow. “Smelling salts?”
Max smirked. “Ice water.”
Her eyes suddenly flew open and shot a bolt of pale blue lightning at Max. “I’m right here, Neanderthal.” She shook his fingers from her arm as she stood. “What took you so long? That crazy terrorist was about to kill us!”
Max’s lip twitched as he glanced at Steele. “She’s fine.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Which one of you accosted me?”
Max gestured with his head at Steele.
“You were standing in the path of a flying bullet.” Steele shrugged. “I had to take you down.”
She turned to look at Diego’s body then back at Steele. “Well then, thank you, Brett.”
Max felt a pinch of annoyance. Since when did she decide to be so damn appreciative?
Steele flashed her another wasted lady killer smile. “You’re welcome.”
Max waited half a second for some sort of reprimand. Except, it didn’t come. In fact, she just stood beside them, silent and docile. So, he took advantage.
“What about my thank you? I took out the crazy terrorist.”
He knew damn well he shouldn’t have baited her. He really shouldn’t have.
She simply batted those long eyelashes and flipped her curls over her shoulder. “It’s your job, remember?”
Staring deeply into Rachel’s eyes, Hawke cupped her chin in his hand, imploring her to understand the depth of his feelings for her.
“I love you.”
She placed her hand over his, then turned her face to kiss the center of his palm. “I love you too. Thank you.”
Parting her lips, she leaned down to meet his kiss. Hawke moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness, silently reassuring himself she was safe. Yet, as his lips caressed hers, he didn’t miss her slight hesitance.
Sirens echoed in the still of the afternoon.
“About time,” Max muttered. “Come on, Hawke. They’ll want to hear your story.”
Hawke lifted his lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Rachel nodded and gave a weak smile.
Once outside, Shadow handed Sterling a silver tube. “Found some evidence, Captain.”
Sterling paused halfway down the driveway next to Rachel’s Mercedes, twisted the tube open and then grinned. “Taste the lipstick on the windshield, Steele.”
“Say what?”
Sterling motioned to the car. “The lipstick. Taste it.”
Steele smeared the lipstick with his index finger and placed it to his mouth. “Cherry.”
“What kind of cherry?”
Steele frowned. “I don’t know. Just cherry.”
“Hell.” Sterling wiped lipstick on his finger and tasted it. “Wild Cherry. That’s what I thought.”
Steele stared open-mouthed. “How do you –?”
Sterling shoved him further across the lawn. “Drop it.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Greg watched Hawke walk the length of the hotel suite and back again for the thousandth time.
“Hawke, you’re making me dizzy.”
“I’ve walked this room all morning, racking my brain for a way to help her forget this mess, and still nothing,” Hawke said as he stopped to grab the back of the sofa.
Greg’s brow creased as he noticed Hawke’s white knuckles. He shook his head in disbelief.
“I’ve never seen you like this. Are you going to make it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Hawke said hoarsely as he moved to the window to look at the traffic below. “I’ve never been in love before.”
Greg didn’t know how to help him, having never been in love either. The best he could do was hang around for moral support. The situation was difficult for all of them. Rachel wasn’t an average groupie, and he and Max were both stumped. He picked up the newspaper and thumbed through the pages for distraction.
“Flowers? Chocolates? Jewelry? How about a private vacation?” He rattled off the usual forms of persuasion.
“No. None of those mean anything to her.”
Hawke turned around, his face blood red. “Why can’t I think of something?”
Greg glanced back down at the newspaper and felt his eyes widen as one of the headlines jumped out at him. Local Charity Works to Re-build Block.
“Look at this, Hawke.”
Hawke took the paper from him and browsed the article. “This is it!”
Greg stood and read the article over his shoulder. “
How much should we pledge?”
“Nothing.” Hawke yanked open drawers until he found a notepad and pen. “I want you to start making phone calls. Call everyone you know. Anybody. We’re going to have a benefit concert and get the stars to build the houses.” Hawke scribbled furiously then handed a piece of paper to him.
“Here’s your list. I’ll make some calls, too. When we have commitments for the 15th and 16th of next month, get our PR people on advertising. I want this to be huge.”
Greg’s eyes rounded in amazement. “If we can get even half of these people it’s going to be huge.”
“Call in all my favors, Greg, I’m ready to collect.”
Greg swallowed, his lips almost numb in disbelief. Hawke had never asked for a return on a favor.
“We don’t have much time to pull something like this together,” he said hesitantly.
Hawke slapped him on the back and pushed him toward the desk. “Make it happen, Greg.” He grabbed his own cell phone.
Greg smirked when he read the list Hawke had given him. All male. Hawke had definitely decided to give the ladies a show. There wouldn’t be a problem raising the money needed to complete the project.
A sense of warmth enveloped him as he started dialing, impressed by Hawke’s determination. Rachel had captured Hawke’s heart, re-shaping it into the new, selfless individual he’d become. He grinned smugly. Wonders never cease.
Hawke rushed through the suite, plowing into Max as he came from the kitchen.
“C’mon, Max, we have to find Cameron.”
“Come again?”
“Cameron.”
Max studied Hawke’s reaction, skeptical of his decision. Had he gone completely insane? Usual protocol dictated he proceed, no questions asked, but Hawke’s current state of mind raised a red flag.
“You’re sure?” He needed clarification. Just in case he’d heard wrong.
“Absolutely. Let’s go.”
Unsure of Hawke’s motive, Max followed him back through the living area to the front door. Huntington waved while talking into the phone, his eyes flashing Max a caution signal. Max shook his head. He had a feeling Hawke was leading him right into the middle of a hungry lioness’ den.
They rode in silence on the way to Newberry & Tremaine. He willed himself to remain calm but with Hawke leading him into battle blindfolded, his nerves were on edge. And Hawke’s bouncing leg added even more tension. He exhaled a long, steady breath to regulate his heartbeat. All this drama for a damn female.
Max kept pace beside Hawke as he strode across the parking lot and into the building with sheer determination. Cursing the elevator for moving too slowly, Hawke finally took a breath to compose himself and they marched through the office door. Right into the serpent’s den.
Medusa herself sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, poised and ready to strike. “Well, if it isn’t Rocky and Bullwinkle. I’ve been expecting you.”
Max’s head pounded. “How the hell - ?“
“It doesn’t matter.” Hawke planted himself next to her. “I’ve come to help.”
“I think you’ve helped enough.” She swung one bare leg.
“Cut it out, Cameron,” Hawke hissed.
Max folded his arms and snickered. Hawke had taken on the incredible task of taming the shrew.
Obviously unimpressed by Hawke’s attempt at aggressiveness, she pressed him further. “Help how?”
“I’ve arranged a benefit concert for the Build A Block project. So far there are ten bands committed to perform and help on the building site.”
She nodded. “Impressive. But I don’t think you can win Rachel over that easily.”
“I realize that. I just want to show her I understand how much this means to her.”
She swung her eyes to Max. “And what about you, Paul Bunyon? Are you going to swing your ax?”
His thoughts flashed back to the fireman fiasco. “With my shirt on.”
She licked her lips. “It’s scorching hot out there,” she taunted.
“I can take it.”
“Okay,” she relented, “I’ll expect you both. Do you want me to tell Rachel?”
Max smirked. “You will anyway, Short Stuff.”
Hawke stood and walked to the door. “Greg’s working on PR. We’ll make sure she knows.”
“You might meet her in the hallway. She’s due here any minute.”
“Don’t tell her I was here, Cameron.”
“I won’t,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t want Mr. Big here to take me down.”
Max clenched his jaw tighter, both excited and aggravated. If he did take her down, she wouldn’t get up until they were both satisfied.
Rachel limped out of the freight elevator, carrying one piece of her broken shoe. The morning had not gone well. After stuffing herself with ice cream and oversleeping, she just didn’t have the time to put too much effort into her appearance. She’d just work barefoot today.
“Were you mugged?” Cameron squealed as she walked through the door.
Rachel frowned. “No, why?”
“You look like roadkill.”
Rachel rubbed a finger under her eye. “Thanks, Cameron.”
“What in the hell happened?” Cameron persisted, not bothering to apologize.
She sighed. “Nothing. I just overslept.”
Cameron snatched her shoe. “Your shoe is broken.”
Rachel shrugged. “No big deal. Nothing a little super glue won’t fix.”
“Nuh-huh,” Cameron babbled. “We’re going shoe shopping.”
“I really don’t have time for shopping today.”
“Yes, you do,” Cameron insisted. “Nothing is more soothing than shoe shopping and there’s a sale at the mall.”
Rachel knew Cameron wouldn’t give up until she agreed. “Okay,” she said quietly, “I’ll go. But we’ll have to run back by my house. I can’t go barefoot.”
Cameron grabbed her purse. “I have an extra pair of sandals in the car.”
“Cameron, I don’t know if I can walk in those stilts you call heels.”
“Relax, you’ll be fine. We’ll go slow.”
The blinding morning sunlight made her eyes water as Rachel stepped out of the office building and crossed the parking lot where Cameron was parked.
Once seated in the car, Cameron handed her a pair of sunglasses and a tissue. “I found some more volunteers for the project today.”
“Great,” she said half-heartedly, dabbing her eyes.
“Top up or down?” Cameron asked.
“Oh what the hell,” Rachel mumbled, running her hand through the rat’s nest she called hair, “down.”
“Relax, Rachel, shopping will make you feel so much better.”
Rachel managed to giggle at Cameron’s excitement. No sense in letting her bad morning ruin the day.
“Who volunteered?” she asked as Cameron drove to the mall.
“You know I can’t remember names.”
“Any help is good help.” Rachel strapped on the first borrowed sandal. “What about Max?”
Cameron bit her lip as she pulled into a parking place. “I haven’t asked him yet.”
“Why not?” Rachel fastened the second sandal to her foot and stepped out of the car.
“I thought I’d exhaust all my other efforts first.”
“I’m sure he’d help, Cameron.” Rachel paused a few seconds to get her balance then walked beside Cameron to the entrance.
“Rachel.” Cameron peered over the top of her sunglasses as they entered the store. “Do not tease me about Mr. Clean. Dealing with him is no teasing matter. Look! Dior is on sale!”
Cameron pulled a pale pink stiletto off the rack and handed it to Rachel. “Hawke didn’t keep you up all night, did he?”
Rachel wrinkled her nose and handed it back to Cameron. “He didn’t come back. By the time he gave his statement at the police department and had his arm examined, it was late. I told him to go back to his suite and rest.”
/>
“Why?”
Rachel slipped her foot into a gold pump. “I needed time to think.”
“You ate all the ice cream, didn’t you?”
“Not all of it.” Just most.
“So, did you come to any conclusions in the depths of all that chocolate?”
Rachel sighed. “I feel terrible.”
Cameron’s eyes widened. “Those were gallon tubs, Rachel! How many did you eat?”
Rachel shoved the shoe back on the rack. “Not that many. Besides, that’s not what I meant.”
“What else could you possibly have to feel bad about?”
Rachel took Cameron by the elbow and forced her into a chair next to the rack of shoes. “I’ve held him at arm’s length all this time, using the excuse that there wasn’t room in his spotlight for me.” Rachel blew her bangs off her forehead. “I more or less accused him of playing at romance and tried to prove it several times.”
Cameron’s brow wrinkled. “And?”
Rachel plopped down in the chair next to Cameron. “And then he took a bullet for me.” She gave a half laugh. “The real kicker in this whole fiasco is that the lunatic was after me. I brought trouble to Hawke.”
“Actually, she was after both of you.”
"Really. If I hadn’t gone to that concert, flashed my bare chest, and unstuck his zipper, I would have never even met Hawke.”
Cameron folded her arms across her chest. “What makes you think Hawke knew who you were before he hired you?”
Rachel looked Cameron square in the eye. “He knew.”
“Okay, so you just happened to bring an insane maniac into the relationship. Now what?”
“I have no idea.”
“You’re seriously considering calling it quits?”
“That’s just it, Cameron, my life used to be routine and safe.”
“Boring.”
Rachel glared.
Cameron wasn’t intimidated. “Don’t shoot those daggers at me, you said it yourself.”
“It’s been anything but boring lately.”
“My life sure has been a whole lot more interesting,” Cameron mumbled.
“See? I’ve even managed to drag you along for the ride.”