by Sheila Kell
“Pick up the pace, the bottom is about to fall out. Grab some wood along the way and we’ll make a fire. If we wait, we might only find wet pieces.” Devon leaned down, almost toppling with the weight of his pack, and snagged a broken branch that appeared perfect for a small fire. Pity, he hadn’t been a Boy Scout growing up, then he’d know what pieces were truly the best. Oh well, they’d have a fire—easy or not.
ROBERT CARVER UNBUTTONED his light gray Armani suit jacket, grasped both lapels, and then pulled it off his shoulders and down his arm before tossing it haphazardly on the back of a wine-colored leather chair. Walking to the plate-glass window in the room he’d designated as his office within his Manhattan home, he stared out over the clear sky, wondering when they’d have some rain to break their drought.
Pride swarmed him, from his thirty-fourth-floor space, at his grand life. A life not dependent on a ridiculous government salary or listening to someone in charge who had no clue. Now, he was in charge of everything and had a small empire. Many years ago, the elder Westbrook—Keith—had shown him the easiest way to make money. The man would kill him if he knew that Robert and Dave had been lovers. His stomach clenched at the thought of Dave being murdered. They hadn’t been in love, only lust, but the loss was still raw.
Hell, if the old man ever found out, he’d probably turn Robert over to the authorities. But, with Dave gone, it was too late for Keith to find out because Robert sure as hell wouldn’t tell anyone.
There had been a benefit to having a relationship with Dave. Robert had jumped on Keith’s share of the market in a manner of seconds after his arrest and used Dave, unwittingly, so his father would hand over everything the authorities hadn’t confiscated without question or, most importantly, cost.
After he finished the current sale he had pending, he’d find the woman who got away. Rylee Hawkins. The benefactor who wanted her had offered double upon hearing she’d escaped them. Enough to make Robert almost default on other agreements, but no, he honored his word. A bitter grin grew on his face. Honor amongst criminals was true and alive.
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. Reaching for it from his pocket, he automatically drew himself up to his full five foot eleven inches—six foot with the lifts in his shoes. After seeing the number, he knew to expect bad news, and he hated bad news. Before he’d left the CIA, he’d set up a network that kept him knowledgeable about anything that mattered to him. He was always intent on getting information first. For some things, he had to rely on nonagency help, and that was where things usually went awry.
“Yeah,” he said shortly.
“Um, boss, you told me to tell you if anyone ever came to the ranch. Well, a man and his wife did today. They were lost,” the voice said nervously.
“What do you mean a man and his wife visited the ranch? How the fuck did they get lost around there? We’re out in fucking nowhere land!” Robert bellowed to Nick through the phone.
He never should’ve left that idiot to oversee the ranch. Sure, he was excellent with the horses, but he was still an idiot. Having people inside one of his houses, without his approval, grated on his nerves and made him want to smash something. Right now, that something was Nick’s head.
“Well, um, they were looking for the waterfall.”
“The waterfall is miles away. Didn’t you find that suspicious at all?”
“No. They were harmless enough and only stayed long enough for the woman to use the bathroom,” Nick rushed to say.
Fuck! They’d been inside and she’d wandered the house. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and took a calming breath. “What were their names?”
On the phone, thunder struck in the background and the sound of heavy rain reached Robert’s ears. At least someone was getting wet.
“Um, the man was Daryl something. I didn’t get his wife’s name.”
Who were these people? Were they really just lost hikers? “What did they look like?”
“The man was about six-one, good build, and dark hair.”
That could be anyone. “Have you seen Chuck today?”
“He went back to town. Thought he’d seen that Rylee chick you were talking about.”
His breath caught. No. It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence. She wouldn’t. Would she? “Tell me, Nick,” he said slowly, “what did Daryl’s wife look like?”
“Well, she was average height for a woman and had dark auburn hair.” His gulp came through the receiver. “Her eyes were the color of whiskey. I know because they drew me in like she was a witch.”
Witch. Stupid fucker.
“I have them… on surveillance… tape,” Nick said with a stutter.
“Snap me a shot of them and send it over.” He waited, contemplating whom she could’ve brought with her.
His phone vibrated in his hand. Pulling it away from his ear, he clicked on messages and waited for the photo to load.
If it was Rylee—and something told him it would be—it appeared his prey had found herself a protector. Her coming to the house only meant one thing—she knew. Well, the girls were waiting in Belize, so he didn’t have to worry about her finding anything. God, he hoped the house had been swept.
When the image fully loaded, his eyes widened. His grip around the phone tightened and his hand shook. No! It can’t be. His heart raced as the blood boiled through his veins. It was Rylee Hawkins all right, but with her—
“Devon Hamilton,” he whispered. He looked closer to make sure. Holy fucking shit. Anger surged through him. He fought to not toss his phone across the room and smashing it against the wall.
This just got worse, and could not be a coincidence. He was one of the last men Robert wanted poking his nose around. Damned do-gooder. When the hell had he married? Were they truly married? He should’ve kept tabs on him, knowing he’d not give up on Craig.
He wouldn’t put it past Devon to use his computer skills to spy on him. Word had gotten out about his success in that HIS group. Shit. He didn’t feel like dealing with the whole lot of them.
“Hang on, Chuck just pulled in,” Nick said.
“Good, give him the phone when he walks in the door,” Robert directed. He turned his hand up and curled in the fingers, observing the recent manicure’s status to calm himself.
“Yeah,” a gruff voice said impatiently.
Nick obviously hadn’t told him who was on the phone or else something would need to be done about Chuck’s attitude. “Your target was just at the house. They’re on foot so they couldn’t have gone far. She’s with a man that needs to be eliminated. Find out which way they went and take care of it. After that, scour the tapes and find out what she saw. And, sweep the house in every room either of them were in. Chuck, control your brother to make the man’s death look accidental. Then help Nick understand we don’t let people inside the house.” Hopefully the idiot wouldn’t break an arm because Nick needed them to care for the horses.
“It’s pouring—”
“I don’t give a shit. Find them!” He ended the call before any more shit could be spouted from the man. Dave had put up with way too much. Maybe Robert shouldn’t have just accepted the employees of his at face value.
Although glad he had them today, this was Chuck and his brother Frank’s time to show their worth. In this, he wouldn’t tolerate failure.
KATE BIT ON her thumbnail, anxiously awaiting her husband’s return. She hoped Brad came with him as she’d requested. Staring out the window, cream-colored curtains pushed aside, she allowed her mind to drift. Waiting was a painful endeavor for her. Madison needed someone and her gut told her that Rylee and Devon did also, but she’d promised not to crash in on the couple. Madison was different, but that was for Brad to deal with. She grinned at the possibilities of how that scenario would play out.
When Jesse’s SUV and Brad’s truck came into view, she jumped back as if they’d caught her spying, and forced herself to wait for them to enter the home even th
ough she wanted to rush outside and fling herself into her husband’s arms.
As soon as they cleared the threshold, she shook her head at their jeans and black T-shirts. No matter how many other colors of shirts she bought for Jesse, he always wore black on the job. Smiling, she didn’t hold back her news. “Someone has to go to New York, ASAP,” she said in greeting.
“Christ, can I at least kiss my wife first?” Jesse asked her while he and Brad both dropped black tactical backpacks from their shoulders.
“Not you.” She then pointed at her brother-in-law. “Him.”
As she’d expected, Brad exploded. “What the fuck? Why me?”
Smirking, she said, “Because my husband is not going.” She crossed her arms over her chest, resolutely. Brad should be the one. She had a good feeling about him and Madison.
“Whoa, back up, sweetheart.” Jesse leaned in and kissed her briefly on the lips. “I expect more of that later. Much more.” He winked.
“Yeah, back up, sweetheart.”
Jesse rounded on his brother. “You don’t get to call my wife sweetheart.”
Brad rolled his eyes and put a hand in front of him, palm out. “What-the-fuck-ever.” He rotated the hand in a circle, which Kate took as move it along. “Just get on with why I have to go to New York. The last time I went, I almost landed in jail.”
Jesse snorted. “That’s because you got into a bar fight.”
Shaking her head and ignoring what hailed to be a good story, she said, “Come on.” Kate led the men to the spacious living room Jesse had designed so the family and team would have enough room. Sitting on a brown leather couch, she cleared her throat. “Madison, Rylee’s sister, called about half an hour ago. She hasn’t heard from Rylee in days and called me thinking I might have heard from her.”
Running his fingers through his hair, Jesse sighed. Tiredness lined his face and her heart went out to him. He took on too much yet she couldn’t get him to ease up on anything. “How does that constitute our running to Madison’s side in New York? Did you tell her the cell service sucked in the mountains? That’s what you told us.” He shrugged and then leaned back, kicking his feet out in front of him and crossing them. “Give her a SAT phone number.”
“It’s not just that. What also made her call me is that a strange man approached her and asked for Rylee.” She raised her eyebrows. “Since they’re stepsisters and have different surnames, not many people know they’re related, so it bothered her. Then, she’s seen the man hanging around again, so she’s a bit creeped out.”
“What does she expect you to do?” Her husband appeared bored, but she could see that spark of concern in his eyes.
Beaming, she answered, “I’m glad you asked. She wants us to check on Rylee and make sure she’s okay, because she did call a SAT phone with no response. But”—she emphasized the word—“I want HIS to get rid of the man bothering her.”
“Like kill him?” Brad asked incredulously. “You know we don’t do that?” He snorted his disapproval. Boy, was he in for a shocker on this case. She wanted to rub her hands in glee.
“Of course I know. I want you to shoo him away.”
Both men burst into laughter. At first Kate had an incredulous retort on her lips. Then, she couldn’t help a chuckle also at her choice of words.
Once done laughing, and she thought the men wiped at their eyes, Jesse took control. “All right. Brad, sorry, but pack up and make sure Madison isn’t being targeted and”—his mouth fought a grin—“shoo away this man.” Laughter only came from Jesse this time. Brad apparently didn’t appreciate a shooing job. “That means if someone is looking for Rylee, there’s plenty she’s keeping secret. I take it you tried the SAT phone as well.”
Barely holding onto her eagerness, she nodded slowly.
“Okay, sweetheart, pack—”
“Already done.”
“In the half an hour since Madison called?” His brows knitted down in disbelief.
Her resulting answer was only a shrug.
“Hold the fuck up. Why do I have to go to New York and shoo? Why can’t any of the other men go?”
Kate cleared her throat. “Because, you’re perfect for this assignment. Madison is every man’s fantasy and I’m not sure the men could keep their focus. Besides, I thought you liked Madison Maxwell.”
Brad surged to his feet. “Holy fuck! Her sister is Madison Maxwell? The supermodel Madison Maxwell?”
Covering her mouth to hide the giggle spurting forth, Kate could only nod in response. Hook, line, and sinker.
“I’m outta here.” The door slammed shut within moments of Brad’s hasty departure. She wondered if he needed anything in the backpack he’d brought into the house with him and forgotten to take as he’d left.
Jesse hooked his thumb to the front door and cocked an eyebrow. “Why not Matt? He’s single. And, I might add, probably a safer bet. Plus, if you were so hell bent on the man being single, we have a full team of them.”
“Yeah, but did you notice he actually smiled and meant it?”
A smile crept across Jesse’s face and his eyes twinkled. “I did. You’re a pretty smart woman. I knew I chose well. Now”—he stood and offered her his hand—“before we depart, I expect a true welcome.”
DARKNESS STRETCHED BEFORE Devon and Rylee. Not something he expected in the afternoon except the storm had caught them. Lightning streaked across the sky, splitting into what looked like a hand reaching to the gods, but at least, it temporarily lit their path. Onward they raced, feet splashing in already forming puddles and through trees in an imaginary trail Rylee carved as she ran toward shelter. A booming thunder immediately rocked the ground they raced upon, making Devon worry about being in the trees with nature’s wrath on top of them. When Rylee ducked into a barely noticeable cave, his relief was palpable until he was hit with the significant temperature drop.
Shivering, Rylee dropped her pack and firewood, then rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Devon heard her chatter.
With their clothes soaked through and the chill residing in the enclosure, lighting a fire took priority. Hopefully, the bits of wood they’d carried hadn’t become too wet. They needed more though. He’d have to do something he didn’t want to, but had little choice in the matter. “I’ll go back out and grab some wood that’s not too wet while you start the fire.” He dropped his backpack. “I’m sure there’re some downed logs I can pull from beneath. There are matches in my pack.” Remembering they were nearly on a drop off was critical while he wandered in the blinding rain. Stepping into oblivion was not something he wanted to do.
“No. I put some in the back the last time I came around before you showed up.”
He raised his eyebrows at her.
She shrugged. “Just in case I needed a place to hide. I’ll get it if you want to start the fire.”
Pleased to not have to brave the storm again, he knelt and pulled the wood into a pile for a campfire, completely ignoring her first comment because it scared the crap out of him to think she felt that way. He’d have preferred to have stones around it, but the dust-covered, rocky ground should be good enough to keep it from spreading.
After the fire had come to life, he raised himself up and his jaw dropped.
Stripping her shirt over her head, Rylee spoke through her chattering teeth, “We… need to… get out of… these wet… clothes,” she finally forced out.
Not one to argue—at least not about that request—he began the same process. They danced around the crackling fire while pulling off their clothes to the sounds of the whipping winds, resounding thunder and driving rain.
Christ, she was almost naked and his cock loved that fact as it jutted out toward her once he’d released it from his underwear. Boy, you’ve got a mind of your own with that woman.
Unable to move, he watched her pull the light green bra straps off her shoulders and reach back to unhook the contraption. Her breasts bounced free, and his mouth watered at the thought of tasting them.
Apparently not as distracted at their lack of clothing, she slipped her panties down her legs and spoke, “They were there. I just know it.”
He yanked his head up to look in her face and growled in frustration. They? What the fuck was she talking about? Unbelievable that she expected him to discuss business while she stood with firelight gleaming off her naked flesh. He cleared his throat. “Proof?” was about all he could muster through his sex-fogged brain.
Leaning over, she pulled her hair to the side and twisted it, wringing out water. “Not exactly. But, it’s set up for it. Don’t you think so?”
Opening his mouth to speak, she continued before he could utter a reply.
“I found a room in the back that locked from the outside.” She straightened and his gaze followed her hands as they raked through her glorious mane. “Plus, there was a chair outside it. Just like a jail.”
Shaking his head to clear it, he didn’t want to burst her bubble. She obviously felt she’d found something, but…. “Rylee, that doesn’t mean the girls were there.”
She put her hands on her hips and he almost lost it when it pushed out her chest.
“Christ, woman, I can’t talk about this shit when you’re standing there naked.” He leaned down and dug in his pack. Standing, he tossed her a small blanket. “I had this for the picnic. Wrap it around yourself, please.”
Cocking her head a bit and raising a brow, she smiled coyly. “Oh, really. And look at you. All at attention.”
Another growl emanated from deep within his chest and rumbled past his lips. “Cover up.”
Laughing, she wrapped the blanket around as much flesh as it would cover. “Better?” she asked him.
He nodded his answer. “Okay, did you plant the bugs?”
“I put them everywhere.”
“Good. That’ll give us something to listen to. Now, let’s see if my program worked while we were in there.” He squatted down and removed a device from his pants pocket, shook his head and put it back, and then dug in the other pocket until he retrieved his cell phone.