by Leslie North
Nine more days to secure the future she’d always dreamed of or watch it all go down in flames. Heart heavy and mind troubled, Mercy started the engine in her tiny compact vehicle and pulled out of the lot, heading back toward Ortega, not sure which was worse.
Flunking out of the program or disappointing Vann.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Jace asked as Vann stomped into the office half an hour later. “Wouldn’t want to be on your bad side today, dude.”
Vann gave his friend a look before taking a seat behind his desk. “It’s nothing.”
“Pardon me for saying, bud, but it definitely looks like something.” This from Mark. He currently had his feet kicked up on his desk and his splinted hand resting on his stomach. “Kill anyone today?”
“Not yet, but there’s still time.” He glared across the room at his business partners.
Fuck. His day had started out so perfect too, waking up with Mercy in his arms. Then things had gone downhill from there. He huffed out a breath and rubbed his eyes then slumped back in his chair.
“Class not going well?” Mark asked.
“Class is fine.”
“Great, now say that like you mean it.” Jace crossed his arms. “Is it Mercy Conde again, the girl you were complaining about the other day?”
“No.” Yes.
The guys exchanged a look he didn’t miss then gave him twin expressions of yeah-right.
“Okay. Fine. Yes. Mercy Conde is still not doing well and I’m out of ideas as to how to help her improve.” Didn’t help matters that he couldn’t get her out of his mind either—the way she’d felt, the way she’d tasted, the way she’s cried his name as she climaxed around him….
Jesus. He’d slept with her to teach her about her body, to improve her confidence, not to become emotionally entangled with her.
Jace narrowed his brown eyes on Vann. “And you thought sleeping with her would do the trick?”
Stunned, Vann stared across the room at his friend. How the… “I’m not sleeping with her.”
“Dude, I saw the Humvee parked at the cove all night.” Jace grinned.
A muscle ticked near Vann’s tight jaw. “You following me?”
“No.” Jace waved off the accusation. “I worked an all-nighter towing at Burrell’s. Happened to drive by the compound on my route, that’s all. Paranoid much, dude?”
Pissed, more at himself than anyone else, Vann sank back in his seat and scowled out the window beside him. Didn’t help he’d found fresh tire tracks and footprints near the borders again this morning after he’d gone for his usual walkabout to clear his head after dropping Mercy off at her car. Whoever was tracking them was still out there. He’d thought maybe it would end with the death of Tim Rigsdale, but things had only gotten worse. He doubted it was Rigsdale’s widow, Kim. She’d turned to booze and prescription drugs after her husband’s death. Besides, the footprints were too large and too deep to be female. From the size and depth, he was guessing a male, maybe two-fifty, two-sixty, more than six-feet.
He inhaled sharply and swiveled to face his buddies once more. Jace was still watching him, one incredulous brow raised, while Mark was tapping away one-handed on his computer. Jace was always the guy who read everyone’s emotions. Maybe it had to do with his mutt—part Eskimo, part Mexican, part European. Hell, rumor had it there was even part Chinese in there somewhere. Regardless of the origins of Jace’s Jedi mind tricks, right now the guy was being one-hundred-percent a pain in Vann’s ass.
“Stay out of my private life,” he growled, wheeling his chair in closer to his desk.
“So you are sleeping with her then?” Jace gave him a look. “If you are, then your private life merges with my professional duties, so that makes it my business, dude.”
“Fuck you,” Vann said, staring at the mounds of neglected paperwork on his desk. To say he’d been preoccupied these past couple of weeks was an understatement. Between Mark’s accident and his subsequent investigation of the events outside of law enforcement’s radar, he’d had his hands full. Now, with the new class and Mercy to deal with, things didn’t look like they’d settle down anytime soon.
“No, dude. Fuck you.” Jace walked over and tossed the latest edition of the newspaper on Vann’s desk. “I take it you haven’t seen that yet then.”
He glanced at the headline, and then did a double-take. What the… “Ortega City Council’s calling for shutdown of local training facility pending investigation.”
“Oh. Hell. No.” Vann grabbed the paper and crushed it in his hand. “This is bullshit!”
“Agreed.” Mark said, his tone resigned. “But we need to go on in spite of this. We need to prove to them that this place is still safe, still viable, still the best thing that’s happened to little Ortega, California.”
Vann sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “How the hell are we supposed to do that?”
Mark blinked over at him, one brow raised. His resemblance to Dwayne Johnson had given him plenty of issues lately, since The Rock had been named People’s Sexiest Man Alive. Poor guy got mobbed every time he tried to surf. Geneva, his fiancée, took it all in stride, laughing her ass off as young groupies rushed Mark for autographs whenever they were around town. He’d laid low over the past couple weeks, at least, hiding out in this office or over at the farmhouse where he and Geneva lived on the compound.
“Mercy,” Mark said.
“Mercy?” Even the mention of her name made Vann’s blood heat with remembered desire. Shit. Just shit. “She can’t even save herself. How the hell is she going to save our business?”
“I thought you were helping her,” Jace said, frowning.
“I tried, but it’s not working.”
“Maybe if you worked with her outside the sheets you might have more luck.”
“That’s it!” With a roar of frustration, Vann shoved to his feet, his chair crashing against the wall. “One more remark like that and I’m going to kick your sorry ass into next year.”
“Try it, Magic Man. I dare you.” Jace stood firm, expression harsh and fists clenched. Ever since the guys had found out about Vann’s Cherokee roots, they’d teased him about being some kind of mystical shaman or something. And yeah, he felt a connection to nature, to the world around him. Didn’t make him any less of a man and it sure as fuck didn’t make him any less fierce of a warrior.
“You want some magic? How about my boot up your ass, Heinz?” As in Heinz 57. It was the name the guys on their old SEAL team had taken to calling Jace due to his hodgepodge genetics. Vann knew how much he hated the nickname, but if the guy was going to go balls to the walls, Vann was more than happy to oblige, best friend or not.
“Guys, cut the shit!” Mark’s commanding tone brooked no arguments. They were equal partners in the business now, but his previous post as team leader still held weight. “None of this fighting is helping us solve our problem.”
Reluctantly, Vann and Jace backed down, each taking a seat behind their desks again.
“Look, I want Mercy Conde to graduate as much as the next person, but short of passing her simply to get her to graduation, I’m not sure what else to do.” Vann raked his hand through his long black hair and glanced at Jace. “I’m open to suggestions. Helpful ones.”
“Maybe you need to work with her more one-on-one,” Jace suggested.
Vann gave him a flat, don’t-go-there-again-asshole look.
“No, I mean get her away from here, away from her bad experiences in the training room and really customize a program for her, focus on her strengths and find a way to make her weaknesses less important.”
“Great. And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Vann shook his head. “What about the rest of the students? I guess I could have Kurt take over again.”
“I got them.” Jace waved his hand dismissively. “Kurt got called away on a family emergency. He won’t be back until next week. I’ll take over the class. Don’t worry. I
got it. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to get away from slave-driver over here anyway.” He hiked his thumb toward their fearless leader.
Mark gave Jace the finger in response. “Paperwork never killed anybody.”
“No, but boredom did.” Jace grinned. “I miss getting my hands dirty and getting a good workout along with earning my keep. C’mon. I can handle the class just fine and Mark can enjoy some peace and quiet. Lord knows Geneva’s been riding him hard lately.”
“About what?” Vann asked, glad for the distraction.
“Since I refused PT, she wants me to take a vacation while I’m down healing.” Mark scrubbed his good hand over his bald head. “Shit. I haven’t taken a day off since we started this place.”
“I know,” Jace and Vann said in unison.
Mark flipped them both off this time. “Anyway. Mercy. If you want to try Jace’s plan, I’m fine with him running the rest of the class. And you’re free to use the grounds of the compound if you want.”
Vann leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, an idea forming. Mercy had the brains, what she lacked was the confidence and the brawn. The greatest self-esteem booster of his life had been the vision quest he’d told her about. Not that he’d leave her alone out in the wilds of Wyoming, like his dad had him, but the compound’s forty acres held plenty of space enough for her to dig deeper and explore who she was, to find her inner strength and use that to build her outer, physical skills. He’d be along for the ride, of course. The thought of her going overseas and being unprepared was bad enough. The thought of her being on his own property and getting hurt or worse made his entire body tense. The fact this pseudo-vision quest would also allow him to investigate further whoever it was that was casing the business was an added bonus.
“Okay. I’ll take her out on a personal Outward Bound experience,” Vann said. “Once I get her permission.”
Jace opened his drawer and pulled out a form. “Make sure we’ve got all her releases on file too. Just in case you screw her silly on some rocks or something and she gets stung by a scorpion.”
Vann growled then sorted through the crap in his email inbox. Sleeping with Mercy again was off the table. He’d only done it the night before as an experiment, as a misguided effort to raise her self-esteem. Except the rush of passion that tingled through his body each time he remembered her sweet, floral scent, her soft sighs, the minty flavor of her kisses and the gentle way she stroked his skin made him shiver with need.
Her registration form was at the top of his stack.
Fuck.
No matter how good the sex had been between them last night it wasn’t right.
It wasn’t part of his logical, rational plan. The plan he’d thrown out the window last night, in favor of a spiritual flight of fancy.
Therefore, he’d keep things strictly platonic between them from now on.
Easy, right?
He glanced at his watch then pulled his cell phone from his pocket. The sooner he and Mercy had their inevitable after-sex talk, the better. Then he could share his new plan with her and hopefully, get her on-board. He picked up her registration form and tapped in her digits.
She answered on the third ring.
“It’s Vann.”
“Oh, hey.” Her tentative tone made his heart ache. “I’m doing as you instructed. I just finished my bath and I’m getting ready to order a good dinner. Then I’m going to bed early.”
Images of her naked, wet and covered with bubbles filled Vann’s head and heated his blood. This wasn’t helping. Not at all. He cleared his throat and shoved his erotic fantasies aside. “Get dressed. I’ll pick up you in an hour and take you to dinner. We need to talk.”
8
An hour later, Mercy sat in a booth back at Scoops, with a very serious Vann across from her. Gone was the mysterious lover who’d shown her new heights of passion. Gone was her stern, yet steady, instructor from Brothers In Arms. Nope. This Vann looked darker and broodier and yep, sexier still.
Mercy tamped down her inappropriate lust and took a long sip of her raspberry soda. Most likely Vann was here to tell her she was out of the program, that after her abysmal performance today there was no way he could keep his agreement with her. That no matter how much he worked with her, she would never pass the classes and therefore, would never get her dream job from her parents.
“I want to train with you one on one,” Vann said, each word sharp and pointed.
Not what she’d expected him to say.
“Uh, okay. Won’t that piss off the other students in class though?”
“Away from the training center.” Vann kept his intense gaze zeroed on her. “Just you and me.”
“Alone?” The word squeaked out of her.
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“Why? Where?”
With infinite patience, he sat forward and folded his hands on the table. For some reason, she couldn’t stop staring at those hands of his—the long, tapered fingers, the grace with which they moved—she couldn’t stop thinking about the way they had stroked her and stroked her and….
“Suyeta?” Vann said, his frown deepening. “Are you listening to me?”
Jeez, even his use of that nickname made her body quiver and moisture gather between her legs.
She had it hot for teacher, no doubt about it.
Not trusting her voice, Mercy nodded.
“Good. The reason I want to take you out of the training center and away from the others is to help you get more in touch with who you are, help you discover your strength within.”
Right. That’s what he’d said the night before too.
“I thought this might work for you since you said you liked hiking and being out in nature. This will give you a chance to be alone and get in touch with what’s really going on emotionally inside you.”
“Sort of like the vision quest you told me about?”
“Yes, exactly. Except I won’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, like my dad did to me. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Mercy sat back and thought about it. The only time she’d really spent in the great outdoors was one time during college when she and a bunch of her friends had done a girls Glamping weekend. They’d paid some chi-chi rental company out of Boston to set them up in designer tents in the woods and spent the weekend eating catered gourmet meals and drinking fine wines. Not exactly roughing it, by any means. Still, she was a smart, educated woman. She should be able to figure out how to pop a tent and grill some meat over an open fire, right? Never mind she couldn’t cook worth a damn. Pretty ironic for a girl whose family owned one of the most successful fine dining restaurant chains in the world.
Vann continued. “As for where we’ll go, I’m thinking the foothills near the back of the compound lands.”
“Wait a minute though.” Mercy sat forward and frowned. “What about those people you told me about the other day? The ones you think are watching Brothers In Arms? Did you catch them or are they still out there? Isn’t there a chance they’ll come after us if we head out on this extreme camping trip?”
“No,” he said, his tone decisive. “I said we’d go somewhere near the compound lands, but I think it’ll be better if we stick to the property just beyond the Brothers In Arms borders. Whoever’s watching the compound seems to only be interested in the business.” He shrugged, the movement full of masculine, alpha-male chutzpah. “Besides, I know how to cover my tracks. From the clumsy way they leave their trail behind for anyone to see, those bastards won’t stand a chance locating us.”
Despite his assurance, Mercy still wasn’t convinced this was the best choice for them. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know a thing about wilderness survival.”
“That’s why you’ve got me. And that’s exactly why you need to go, suyeta.” She felt his slow, sexy grin all the way to her toes. “Nothing like a few days of you against the elements to build your self-esteem.”
She’d like to be against someth
ing all right. Namely him. Again.
But she’d also like to get that position as head of international markets at Queen Antoinette’s. The only way she was going to do that was by handing them a certificate of graduation from Brothers In Arms, to prove to them that she could take care of herself. And Vann’s current proposition seemed like her final chance at passing the program. “How long would we go for?”
“Three days, maybe four. Depends on how fast you pick up the skills.”
“So, four days then.”
“Confidence, suyeta.” Vann gave her a warning look. “No time like the present to start.”
“Start what?” A pretty Polynesian woman walked up to their table and put her arm around Vann’s shoulders. Mercy felt an unexpected stab of jealousy before she tamped it down. The gal was gorgeous, all tanned skin and silky, long black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She looked around thirty and was even more petite than Mercy. With a smile, the woman held out her hand. “I’m Leila. I own Scoops. I’m the sister of Vann’s partner, Mark.”
“Oh, hello.” Mercy shook Leila’s hand. “I’m Mercy Conde. I’m a student in one of the programs at Brothers In Arms.”
“Conde.” Leila frowned. “Are you related to the New Orleans Condes who own the Queen Antoinette’s empire?”
Mercy smiled. “Yep. That’s my family. My parents started it.”
“Oh my God!” Leila grinned then smacked Vann across the back of the head. “Why didn’t you tell me you brought culinary royalty to my diner?”
“First off, ow.” Vann scowled at the woman, though his obvious affection for her lurked beneath it. “Second, we are trying to have a private conversation here.”
“Sorry, bud. That crap doesn’t work coming from my brother and it sure as hell won’t work coming from you.” Leila winked at Mercy. “You want privacy? Go to a different restaurant. You come to Scoops, expect me to fawn all over you and get all up in your business.”
Vann shook his head and sighed.
Leila chuckled and squeezed his shoulders tight.