Irresistible Deceptions

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Paul held up a hand. “Hold it. Both of you. There’s too much at stake to be fighting amongst ourselves.”

  Nicky’s embarrassed flush pleased Rhy, until the senator’s censure was directed his way.

  “The situation is a bit more complicated than a custody battle, McLean, but for the moment, why don’t we concentrate on our common goal: finding Everson.”

  Rhy cleared his throat. “That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you’d have some ideas on where he might go to ground.”

  “I don’t know how much help I can be. Thomas was the expert on Everson. However, I think you’ll find working with Nicky beneficial. She was married to the man. If anyone knows of any obscure holdings he might have, she will.”

  Nicky folded her arms to glare at Paul. If her scowl was any indication, she liked the idea of their working together about as much as Rhy.

  Rhy shifted his gaze back to the senator. “Working together how?”

  “I’m interested in hiring you. Hiring Global Shield, if you like.”

  Nicky’s dismissive huff made her opinion of the suggestion clear.

  Paul sighed. “I’m not questioning your determination or your skill, Nicky, but once you find him, what then? You’re going to need help. You know I’d walk barefoot over broken glass to keep you and Alex safe, but you’ve also seen the mob downstairs. Everything I do in the coming days, hell, months, will be broadcast nationwide. If I try to go after Everson, he’ll know I’m coming before I leave the building.”

  “I haven’t said I was interested in taking the mission,” Rhy interjected.

  “And I’m definitely not interested in hiring him.” Nicky shot him a sidelong glance. “We’ll find someone else.”

  “And lose valuable time in the process.” Paul shook his head. “McLean is as motivated to find Jonathan as you are. He has the resources, and he’s here.”

  “He’s a jerk,” Nicky muttered, but to Rhy’s surprise, she didn’t mount a further argument.

  Rhy lifted a brow. She flushed and dropped her gaze.

  Paul regarded Rhy intently. “Nicky is your best bet at finding Everson quickly, and since you knew who she was before you arrived, I assume you planned to contact her eventually.”

  Because the assumption was dead-on, Rhy didn’t respond. Unless Everson actually showed up, the men he had sitting on Nicky’s cabin were wasting their time. Contacting Nicky Everson had been next on his list, but it was the significance of the ring, as well as the boy, that kept him from flat-out refusing to work with the beautiful, deceitful thief.

  Everson had insisted Rhy leave the wedding band where Nicky was sure to find it. The ring was a message, clear and simple. Her ex wasn’t done with her. Senator Hawley believed she could lead Rhy to his brother’s killer, and the possibility eased the sense of blind urgency he’d been suffering since learning the contents of the disk.

  With Nicky’s nest discovered, she could have gone anywhere. Her unexpected presence at the Hawleys’ home had saved him both time and effort, commodities he couldn’t afford to waste if he hoped to find Everson before the trail grew cold. However, that didn’t mean he liked the idea of babysitting a spoiled little thief and her kid, even if they could be considered bait in the trap.

  Paul nodded when he didn’t deny the charge. “Don’t let the gorgeous face fool you. Nicky will find Everson. She’ll do whatever is necessary to keep her son safe.”

  “My team and I are professionals. We don’t need any amateurs slowing us down.”

  Rhy wasn’t surprised when she rounded on him.

  “I’m going after Jonathan. If you don’t like it, you can just stay the hell out of my way.”

  “Your husband is a fugitive. I can’t guarantee there will be any five-star accommodations where we’ll be going.”

  “Ex-husband, and Jonathan’s low character is precisely why I learned to make myself comfortable in the roughest of environments.”

  “I think you’ll be surprised at just how capable Nicky is.” Paul lifted a wry brow and nodded to his wife. “Joyce, maybe Nicky would like to freshen up a bit after her flight.”

  “I’m fine just the way I am,” Nicky retorted stubbornly.

  Paul didn’t back down. “Then perhaps you’d like to check on Alex. If you ladies will excuse us for a few minutes, I’d like to speak to Mr. McLean. Alone.”

  The little spitfire opened her mouth, to argue no doubt, but Joyce rose to her feet and linked their arms.

  Paul walked to the bar as Joyce led Nicky from the room. “Would you like something?”

  Rhy shook his head, declining. “What I’d like is to know what you felt needed to be said in private.”

  “You don’t mind if I do?”

  Another shake of the head.

  Paul poured a glass of dark liquid. “Don’t take Nicky’s current attitude to heart. She’s worried about Alex, with good reason.”

  Rhy frowned. “You think Everson would hurt his son?”

  Paul tossed back half the contents of the glass then grimaced. “If it gained him something he wanted? Yes, but Nicky’s the one I’m worried about.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s frightened. Alex is all she has left. When people are cornered, they take dangerous risks.”

  “From what you’ve said, she’s capable of taking care of herself.”

  “Only because she’s had to. Through no fault of her own.”

  Rhy snorted.

  Paul leaned a hip against the bar. “I’d ask why you have such a low opinion of her, but I doubt you’d tell me.” He didn’t wait for an explanation or a denial. “I’m willing to bet whatever you think you know about her is wrong.”

  Rhy’s smirk was dismissive. “A bold bet when you have no idea what I know.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know Nicky.” Paul sighed when Rhy lifted a mocking brow. “With what she learned of Everson’s dealings during their marriage, combined with the information Thomas put together over the last few years, she could have put Everson away for so long he’d never see the light of day again. Instead, she’s been living like a fugitive because she wasn’t willing to sacrifice Thomas or me. She’s learned to be suspicious in an effort to survive, but she’s one of the most loyal, honorable, giving women you’ll ever meet. You’ll see that when you give her a chance.”

  Highly doubtful. In Rhy’s experience, pretty little rich girls played on their looks, presenting a warm and loving persona, but when it came down to it, they had only one concern: themselves. “Once again, I haven’t agreed to take the job.”

  The steel in the senator’s gaze brooked no argument. “But you will.”

  Of course he would, but since leaving the military, Rhy no longer took orders—from anyone. Pure obstinacy wouldn’t let him give in graciously. “There are a half dozen capable firms in DC who’d jump at the chance to get this job. Call one of them.”

  Paul nodded. “None of them have half the reputation of you and Global Shield. Nor do they have a personal stake in bringing Everson down.”

  The senator’s choice of words surprised Rhy and sidetracked his subtle power play. “Bringing Everson down? Just to clarify. What, exactly, do you expect me to do?”

  “Whatever it takes. All I care about are results.”

  “What would those be?”

  “First, find Everson. Quickly.”

  “If I can’t?”

  “Then you’re not the man I believe you to be.” Paul tossed back the remainder of his drink. “The health of my political future may be in question, but I’ve got my own connections. A lack of support from the right people can be devastating to a man in your position.”

  Frustration steamed through Rhy’s veins at the blatant threat. Especially since it wasn’t necessary. No way in hell would he walk away from his best chance to avenge his brother’s death. His clipped tone broadcast his anger. “And second?”

  “Neutralize Everson’s ability to hurt either Nicky or the boy again.”

&n
bsp; Rhy didn’t have the chance to ask if life behind bars would meet the senator’s definition of neutralization or if nothing less than an assassination would do. Joyce and Nicky chose that moment to return. He set aside the startling possibility a sitting senator had just requested he kill Everson to concentrate on what he could actually control. Finding out what, if anything, the General’s daughter knew.

  Chapter Six

  Despite her apprehension over working with the arrogant owner of Global Shield, Nicky couldn’t fault his professionalism during the next hour. Though McLean’s clenched jaw proved he wasn’t happy with the situation, his condemning attitude from earlier was absent. In its place was a keen intelligence that lessened, if not completely eased, her numbing fear and sense of urgency.

  McLean’s comprehensive questions focused on the places Nicky and Jonathan traveled during their time together, as well as any memories her ex-husband had shared with her of his childhood. After Nicky recalled several long-forgotten conversations, McLean made a quick call on his cell phone, setting his invisible team in motion to check out several possible hideaways.

  Neither of them acknowledged their apparent consent to work together. It needed to be done, so they would do it. Nicky nearly changed her mind, however, when McLean insisted she and Alex stay with him until Jonathan was in custody. She refused, of course. Joyce had offered the use of a guest suite, and Nicky had accepted. When McLean pointed out the continued presence of the media and the problems they could create if they got wind of what was happening, Nicky decided a hotel would do. McLean shot down that idea just as quickly.

  They would do things his way. End of argument. As frustrating as the sentiment was, she understood his reasoning. If there were the slightest chance Jonathan might come after them, McLean wasn’t about to let them out of his sight. Being used as bait rankled, but to protect Alex, she’d do whatever it took—even set herself up as a tethered goat.

  They left the Hawleys’ home the same way Nicky had entered, though they could’ve walked out the front door with none the wiser. The press of news-seekers had dispersed, at least temporarily, with Paul’s departure.

  With Alex buckled in the back seat of McLean’s large SUV, Nicky stared at the familiar landscape of the capital city rushing by. The dark tint of the windows added to the gloom of the rainy winter night, and her mind flooded with frightful images of facing Jonathan again after all this time.

  Think of something else. Anything else.

  She cast a sidelong glance at the man behind the wheel. Rhyder McLean definitely qualified as something else. His help would increase her odds of finding Jonathan before Jonathan found them, but she had learned to trust her instincts. Something was off about the big security specialist. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  Arrogant and dismissive, McLean’s attitude left her seething, but anger alone wasn’t to blame for her jittery apprehension now that she’d reluctantly agreed to their uneasy alliance. Nicky studied him in the low light. He was a big man. Not fat. Probably wasn’t an ounce of fat to be found on his warrior’s body. The conservative suit did nothing to disguise the powerful form beneath.

  She appraised his strong profile. The name Colonel Cutie certainly fit. A handsome man, his dark good looks and strong presence couldn’t help but snag a woman’s notice, but since leaving Jonathan, she simply hadn’t experienced this in-the-gut awareness for any guy. She wasn’t interested in experiencing the attraction now.

  It was disconcerting to be attracted to a man she didn’t trust and found so offensive on a personal level. Then again, hormones were funny and obviously illogical. She shifted in her seat and rolled her shoulders in a philosophical shrug. Having to put up with Rhyder McLean’s personality for any length of time was guaranteed to kill any softer impulses his handsome face and devastatingly masculine body produced.

  As though sensing her perusal, he swung his head in her direction. Caught, Nicky refused to be embarrassed. She lifted her chin. “So, what’s the plan? Where are we headed?”

  “My town house is around the corner.” McLean slipped the big vehicle between two delivery trucks, unfazed by the sheer volume of traffic merging its way around Dupont Circle.

  “Why are we going there?” Twin prongs of anxiety and need made her demand sharp: anxiety at the reminder she wouldn’t be free of him anytime soon and an overwhelming need to take some sort of action toward ending Jonathan’s reign of terror. “Isn’t there something we should be doing? Something we should be checking out?”

  McLean turned right onto a quiet, tree-lined street but didn’t answer as they passed several well-tended front stoops of the row houses inhabiting the older neighborhood. He pulled over close to the curb, parked the big vehicle, and cut the engine.

  He draped his left forearm over the steering wheel. Twisting his upper body, he leaned toward her, just enough to be intimidating—in case the steely anger in his eyes didn’t do the trick. Nicky refused to back down and jutted out her chin to let him know she wasn’t impressed.

  “We need to get a few things straight.” Annoyance permeated the low rumble of his voice. “You don’t want any part of me, and the sentiment is mutual.” He cast a brief glance at Alex in the backseat. “Unfortunately, until the man is in custody, it’s in both our interests to work together. Agreed?”

  “Agreed. That’s the only reason—”

  “Good.” McLean’s wide shoulders seemed to relax a bit at her apparent cooperation. “You were very helpful answering my questions. My team is checking out the locations you gave us. If they find any trace of your ex, we’ll move in as quickly as possible. In the meantime, you say the safety of your son is your main concern. If that’s true, you’ll let my team and me do what Senator Hawley hired us to do.”

  “If that’s true?” For Alex’s sake, Nicky kept her voice even but disbelief morphed into fury, and she did some leaning of her own. “Here’s something you need to get straight. I don’t care about your team or you. My only concern is finding and stopping that monster I married.” She straightened, sucking in air in an attempt to bring her rising temper back under control. A long moment later she was only partially successful. “I’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that, even put up with you. But don’t ever question my commitment to my son again.”

  Taken aback by the absolute resolve in her tone, Rhy straightened in his seat. The woman was a mass of simmering emotions. Eyes blazing, she’d been shooting back and forth between terror and determination since he arrived at the Hawleys’ town house.

  She’d called Everson a monster. Granted, Rhy had never liked the man. In fact, he’d always considered him a prick, and since learning of his part in Brian’s death, dislike had turned to hate, but a monster? The blunt, one-word description conveyed utter loathing and horror.

  According to his sources, five years had passed since she’d had contact of any kind with her ex. What had happened all those years ago that the memory sustained such an intense level of hostility after so long?

  Rhy’s bias where ex-wives were concerned slammed up against an uneasy suspicion that Nicky’s perception of Everson as a man dangerous to his child had merit. The rare sensation of being unsure made him more than a little uncomfortable. He resisted the urge to shift in his seat.

  “I guess I owe you an apology.”

  Nicky’s exotic eyes were full of accusation; she said nothing.

  “I didn’t mean to imply you don’t care about your son.”

  “Didn’t you?” One finely shaped, arched brow proclaimed her doubt.

  “Okay,” Rhy said after a moment’s pause. “Maybe I did.”

  Nicky searched his face as if she didn’t trust his admission. He snorted inwardly. Hell, of course she didn’t. She didn’t trust him period. With good reason.

  Finally, she shrugged. “At least you admit it. Why?”

  The intent clarity in her eyes said she didn’t care about the why of his admission or even why he was apologizing. Cutting str
aight to the heart of his disapproval, she wanted to know why he would question her love for Alex in the first place.

  Rhy rolled his shoulders against the familiar swell of fury squeezing his heart. Beyond the pain, beyond the grief, rage over his ex-wife’s use of Emily as a battering ram had kept him on his feet as he buried his little girl, and had allowed him to function when he hadn’t been sure he could go on. Much more palatable than grief, anger and resentment had turned into a habit, but the hell his marriage had become at the end was a subject he’d rather avoid.

  Unfortunately, he needed Nicky’s cooperation if they were going to find Everson quickly. If an explanation for his animosity gained her cooperation, so be it. “My ex-wife taught me the needs of a child sometimes come in a poor second to the need for revenge.” He winced inwardly at the bitter edge to his voice and dragged in a slow breath in an attempt to smooth it out. “I have a hard time remembering a custody battle can occasionally be more than just a parental power play.”

  Nicky blinked, and the understanding softening her expression surprised the hell out of him, hitting him in the solar plexus like a balled fist. Empathy made her voice low and soft. “You lost a child.”

  Familiar anguish and an uninvited awareness of the woman across from him tangled into a sharp ache in his chest. He looked away and opened the car door. “Yeah.”

  She followed his lead, rounding the car to retrieve Alex. They waited, the boy’s small hand clutched in hers, as Rhy removed her bag from the back hatch. Coming up beside them, Rhy held out his free hand, indicating the steps leading to his town house. Once inside, he flipped a switch. Soft recessed lighting illuminated the elegant foyer, warming the natural wooden floors and allowing a glimpse of understated sophistication.

  Rhy shook off the disquiet that had settled on his shoulders as he stared into her sympathetic eyes and glanced at his watch. “Are either of you hungry? I missed lunch.”

  The boy shook his head, but remained silent. Nicky broke off her study of their surroundings to offer Rhy a guarded smile. “Alex had pizza while we were talking in the Hawleys’ den.”