by Dianna Love
No, he didn’t want to bring that up again, didn’t want to go back through time and relive all that agony. He wanted to block it out. Just like he’d blocked LA out of his mind the minute he realized she’d married.
But she didn’t know he’d shown up a year after leaving, all set to jump back in where he left off. That door hadn’t just closed, it had slammed shut.
He had no reason to feel cut up over Valene finding someone new.
She deserved someone she could have a life with, but that didn’t mean he had to celebrate when she’d found that person, did it? He hadn’t gone digging in her life, but he had kept an alert on his computer for any media that mentioned her name. Sick fuck that he was, the minute the legal notice of her divorce hit the papers, the muscles in his chest had eased with relief.
That was just wrong.
He couldn’t help it. After joining Garcia’s outfit by taking a bullet to gain his trust, Dingo had spent ten months with Garcia, waiting for his chance to take down the bastard and his closest circle of killers. But it had been a bloody end.
Dingo had dangled close to death for two weeks, then the minute he’d clawed his way back to the living and was physically able to travel, he’d flown to LA to surprise Valene, intending to make up for the year he’d gone missing.
He’d been the one rocked back on his heels when he found her married and happy. The only decent thing to do at that point was to turn around and leave without a word, which he’d done, never planning to contact her again ... until four weeks ago.
Big mistake.
One look in those challenging brown eyes a month ago had taken him back seven years and churned his gut into a constant want he’d never be able to satisfy.
He’d left her seven years ago, knowing she’d hate him.
No, it had been worse, because he’d hurt her by not saying a word. If he’d taken that risk, then the gamble to get inside Satan’s Garden Club and stop them from touching her would have been for naught.
But he wasn’t going to reach for the sympathy vote by explaining it now, even if he could share that information, which he couldn’t.
He’d put that hurt look in her eyes, and it didn’t matter that he’d had no choice.
“Giuseppe went missing–” Dingo started.
“So you need to find him again?” she broke in with acid dripping off her words. “Forget it. I made one exception to stop a terrorist. All your good deals are gone.”
She’d been their key to a successful mission. He admitted, “We were lucky to prevent the Orion Hunters from pulling off that attack in May, but more than being lucky we had you. If not for you, we might have lost that battle, Val. You saved a lot of lives.”
She glanced away. “Whatever.”
He’d seen her eyes glisten. She’d never been one to preen over compliments. If anything, they made her wary. He’d like to know why, wished he’d have a chance to find out.
Instead of wishing for the impossible, he asked a question he knew the answer to, but hoped would lower the tension a notch. “Did you get the money for that last job?”
“Yes.”
She’d surprised him less than one day after she’d turned her back and walked away. She’d dismissed his offer to pay her for helping them stop a crisis, but twelve hours later she’d texted him with the amount his agency owed and a bank account number for wiring it.
He’d been in the process of having a cashier’s check made ready, because he’d intended to pay her no matter what.
Just receiving that request for money had given him hope that she might not hate him after all.
But Valene had a stubborn streak wider than a city block. The last thing he’d have expected was for her to send a request for the money so quickly after she’d turned it down.
What had changed in the few hours after she’d walked away from him?
You could have dug around online and found out.
He didn’t have a lot of rules, but he believed that just because you could do something didn’t mean you should. Unless it had to do with stopping a criminal or protecting someone, he respected the privacy of those people who meant something to him.
He’d bent that rule just to find her today by triangulating her phone signal then tailing her from her bank to this office complex, but as far as he was concerned, this fell under protecting someone important to him.
Valene had been more than important. More than he’d wanted to admit. But the deeper he buried those feelings, the better off she’d be without him, and he’d be without ever having to face the day that she sent him packing.
And she would send him packing. He’d never been keeper material.
But that didn’t stop him from wanting to pull her into his arms. He’d like to be the person who held her when she needed someone, the man she could tell secrets like why she’d swallowed her pride and asked for the money from the last job.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to kiss those lips just one more time.
And right now, she was spearing him with a sharp look that made him wonder if he’d said that out loud.
Valene leaned forward, her tone low and rumbling with anger. “I will not sit here and be late for my meeting. Say what you have to say or I’m leaving.”
His kiss fantasy disintegrated into a thousand tiny pieces. He explained, “About Giuseppe. I thought he was a distant relation of the man I was looking for back then, but I was wrong.” Understatement of the century.
“Then you should have had me look for the guy you wanted, not his neighbor or cousin or whatever. That’s not my fault.”
“Let me get this out, Valene. Please.”
She waved her hands in an exasperated you-have-the-floor motion.
“I was hoping what you found out on Giuseppe would give me a lead to find the man I was after, but Giuseppe was connected to a very dangerous group back then. If I’d had any idea that he was running guns for the man I was hunting, I’d have never asked you to do it.”
“Guns. As in black market guns?”
“Among other things, yes.”
She groused, “You work with some kind of agency, right? Not that you’d ever tell me who it is or what exactly you do, but I can put enough puzzle pieces together to get a decent picture. It seems to me that some alphabet agency with hotdog operators like you should be able to find a gun runner.”
“We did.”
She flipped her hands in the air again and let out a long growl of exasperation. “So what’s the problem, 007? Still need help finding Giuseppe? Again? Run out of women to do your research or are they not letting you pay in trade?”
He flinched at the verbal strike. “I never treated you that way.” What they did after hours had nothing to do with his job or her contract work for him. She knew that, but she’d waited seven years to rail at him and he deserved it. That didn’t mean he could take it without grinding his back teeth.
Her gaze darted all over the place before it zeroed in on him again. “How am I supposed to know what was true and what was your job?”
Because you knew me, he wanted to say, but she hadn’t. He’d kept her insulated from his life. Or so he’d thought. “Believe whatever you will, but I have never mixed business and pleasure. I would never show you that lack of respect.”
She was holding on to her righteous anger and she had every right to it, but he saw her chin quiver before she sat up straight and put on her game face. “You’re burning my daylight and I’m not on your payroll now. If you need Giuseppe–”
Dingo said, “No. Giuseppe died six years ago. I didn’t come here to find anyone but you. I don’t need anyone found or any information dug up. I only came to make sure you’re safe.”
Her face softened and she got that dewy look she used to have when he’d show up after being gone weeks–or months. They’d stare at each other for all of five seconds then shred clothes in an explosion of kissing and hot sex.
God, he missed the way she kissed.
&nb
sp; He missed holding her when she slept.
He’d give up all his tomorrows for an hour with her in his arms, but not until he had her tucked away out of view.
When she didn’t say anything, he took this calm moment to explain why he was here. “I need you to leave LA for a while. Maybe three or four weeks tops, I’m guessing. I can put you in a safe house, just–”
“No.” Whatever softness had been there vanished under the return of an anger flash fire. “In fact, hell no.”
Dingo leaned forward, drawing in all the calm he could. “There’s a chance that some of those people from seven years ago are back.”
“And how is that a problem for me? I’m not involved with any of them.”
“I don’t want to risk you being out in the open until I can confirm that you are definitely not on their radar.”
She leveled him with a you-must-be-kidding glare. “Oh, so let me get this straight. You want me to go into hiding because of someone who might figure out that I gave you information on Giuseppe like ...” She dropped her hands. “Seven freaking years ago? Who is this supposed threat to me?”
This was where it got difficult. If he told her, Valene’s insatiable curiosity would push her to find answers. That’s why Dingo had ended up taking the gamble of his life to get inside Garcia’s organization. He was not going to allow her to make that same mistake twice.
He said, “I don’t know yet.”
She shook her head at some thought then stared at him, counting off each point on her fingers as she spoke. “You vanish for years and show up again only because you need something. I do my part for mankind and the US of A, help you out then you’re gone again–”
“I would have come back this time,” he muttered, but she ignored him and kept going.
“–and now back once more with some wild story about how someone from forever-years ago might find out I helped you locate Giuseppe. Oh, and he’s dead! Now you want me to go into hiding while you do what exactly?” She gave him a half beat then added, “No, let me answer. You won’t tell me because you don’t trust me with anything but your dick.”
He wouldn’t trust her with that right now. “I know how it sounds, Val, but–”
“Shut. Up. You did this once before and while I admit that spiriting me away for a weekend under the pretense that I had a stalker was charming, not this time. I’m done. This bullshit stops here.”
“Valene, this isn’t like that time.” He might have gone a little overboard back then to get rid of some hardtail gym rat who thought he was being cool to show up on Valene’s regular running route. “I’m serious about this. Just work with me–”
“No.”
He knew that voice, it came with a rigid backbone that bent for nothing and no one.
Don’t lose your temper with her. He’d had spectacular rows with Val in the past, but this was not one of those times he could let her blow off steam then seduce her.
Could he?
He reached out to touch her face.
She leaned away, giving his hand the same consideration someone would give a rattlesnake coiled to attack.
Nope. Seduction was not on the menu.
He said, “Just consider what I’m asking and we’ll talk more later.”
She pointed her finger, emphasizing her warning. “You come near me again and I’ll, I’ll ...”
“What?”
“Have a restraining order issued.”
“You don’t have enough information on me to do that.” Damn, the minute those words were out he wanted them back.
She dropped her finger, hurt flowing across her face. “And that will never change, will it, Dingo?” she stated quietly, which was more painful than facing her anger.
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the skin that he knew by scent.
Her hand trembled.
Did that mean she still felt something for him?
She pulled her hand back. “We aren’t going there, so don’t waste your time thinking you’ll win this argument. As for going anywhere right now, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because I’m helping someone who’s very sick and needs me right now. But to be clear, I don’t want to.”
One of the last times they’d had a hell of an argument was after he’d found out about her digging around where she shouldn’t have been, trying to get information on him.
A snitch had clued Dingo in that a woman from LA was asking about him.
That snitch also said that she was bumping around in areas that would get her fingers chopped off. And that wasn’t just an expression.
Valene had expected answers from him when she’d met him at dinner that infamous night, and handed him snippets of intel about an op he’d handled in Chicago in the past.
She’d expected a floodgate of information from Dingo.
What she’d gotten was a floodgate of anger.
Research worked two ways, but she wasn’t used to her research coming back to haunt her. If she’d continued sniffing around in Dingo’s life, she would have gained the attention of someone deadly who would have loved to find a connection between Dingo and any woman.
A woman they could hurt over and over.
He’d lost it that night, and the argument had been ugly.
It only got worse the next day when she tried to make amends by returning to the work Dingo had originally asked her to do–finding out what she could on Giuseppe from birth to age twenty-one. Dingo had a pretty good profile on the guy from that age on, but he wanted to find someone from Giuseppe’s past, maybe a close boyhood friend.
Without a word to Dingo, Valene had pulled markers in her vast network of resources to turn up everything she could find on Giuseppe and, in doing so, placed herself in Santori Garcia’s crosshairs.
The head of Satan’s Garden Club had noticed her.
Dingo vanished the next day, leaving her only a note not to look for him.
Based on the cold distance in Valene’s gaze, she’d just replayed that time in her mind, too.
Without another word, she opened the passenger door and calmly stepped out, then climbed in her car.
He let her think she’d won this round.
She backed out and drove away.
The clock on the dash reminded him he had an hour and a half to reach the airport and board a flight that would get him back to Atlanta in time for the team meeting late tonight.
If he left now, would Valene be safe? Was he overreacting, when the new Satan’s Garden Club might only be some idiot trying to build a name on someone else’s street reputation?
If he missed his flight, Sabrina would make an educated guess about where he was and she’d be right.
She had rules. That’s how she’d kept chaos out of her life since her days as a six-year-old little girl dropped at a children’s home. Dingo knew her rules and respected them, just as he respected her as a teammate and friend. He was basically AWOL while Sabrina and the teams hunted for any information that would pinpoint the assassination targets Bergman had whispered before he died.
He wasn’t egotistical enough to think they couldn’t do it without him, but ... he was having a hard time doing right by everyone.
Flying to LA without cluing in Sabrina when they had an active mission was grounds for being dismissed as an operative. He’d never put himself above any of the others.
He didn’t even know for sure if Satan’s Garden Club was real this time, or that they had any information on Valene, but if there was one slim chance that this involved her, he couldn’t leave her to face a threat alone.
If this was about anyone other than Valene, he’d just tell Sabrina and she’d get what he had to do.
But Sabrina hated Valene. Not that they’d ever met. Sabrina’s hate came from watching Dingo during the dark time after he’d walked out of Satan’s Garden Club, broken.
She’d figured out why he’d taken on a suicide mission and that the reason had a name. Valene.
He’d rather cut o
ne of his limbs off than hurt Sabrina or Josh, the closest thing he had to family. But where would that leave Valene if Satan’s Garden Club was connected to the original group and came looking for her?
Chapter 4
Why couldn’t I have become a helicopter pilot?Valene checked her watch for the hundredth time and took advantage of a two-car gap on her right to gain ground among everyone else trying to get somewhere on LA’s Interstate 5.
How could Dingo do this to her again?
He’d shown up looking like he had back when they were first together. Gone was the white-blond hair from his last visit, replaced by thick brown locks that danced along his neckline. Add that to two days of beard, hazel eyes and a mouth carved for pleasure and he was more tempting than all the magazine cover boys on the streets of LA.
Dingo was all man.
And out of his mind if he thought she was buying that story. If there was real danger, where was his team?
Like last time.
Her heart had been leaking misery for seven years, then he’d shown up again a month ago with a team of operatives looking to stop some crazy terrorist group. Dingo had only come back because he’d needed her help.
She should have cursed a blue streak in his face.
She should have kicked him in the head.
None of that had happened, because she had no brakes when it came to Dingo. Her heart had a bad habit of taking over all thought and driving her into his arms.
Her phone played Here Comes The Money, the ringtone she’d chosen for Charlie, the best business connection she’d made in a long time.
She snatched up the phone. “What’s up, Charlie?”
“Did you change your mind about today’s meeting?”
“Of course not.”
“Where are you?”
How did he know she hadn’t arrived at the meet point yet? “Are you at the restaurant?”
“No, but I made the reservation, not Smith. I just called to confirm that everything was set and to give them my credit card for anything you ordered. They said no one had shown yet. You’ve got eight minutes to make this meeting. If I’ve figured out one thing about you it’s that you’re the kind of Type-A who thinks if you arrive on time you’re ten minutes late. So...where are you?”