Heated Pursuit

by April Hunt

  The scents of the alley dulled. Lights dimmed. With every passing second, Penny’s head swirled more. Rafe’s warm hands gently pushed her hair from her face. There was a soft curse and a muffled string of expletives. By then, his voice barely cut through the thickening fog. It was the last thing she heard before darkness rippled over her head and her legs folded in on her.

  “We got to get her out of here.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Each hour since returning to the safe house, Penny downgraded her status a bit more. First, she felt like she’d been tackled by a linebacker. Then, a linebacker and maybe one of his defensive-end friends. By the time morning came around, wrestling with the professional football league’s entire roster would’ve been considered a step up.

  Thankfully alone for the time being, Penny eyed the couch like it was an obstacle in one of those reality ninja shows, and it may as well have been. She bit her lip and gingerly lowered herself to the edge of the cushion. It was nowhere near comfy, but it would have to do because another inch back meant rolling to the floor to get back up, and there was no returning from that regardless of time constraints and probably a forklift.

  She’d barely tucked her ice pack against her ribs when a second bag of frozen peas dropped onto the cushion. Rafe leaned against the doorjamb to the kitchen entryway, no doubt having seen the spectacle of trying to get comfortable. Too sore and too spent, she didn’t care. She’d already hit her embarrassment quota earlier when Logan recited in explicit detail how Rafe carried her to the van and then into the house. Unconscious.

  “For your ribs,” Rafe clarified, when she didn’t say anything. “You must be hurting.”

  “Thanks.” As she attempted to stabilize the second bag over her right kidney, she realized that there actually was an inch of room left for embarrassment. The stupid thing dropped out of her numb fingers twice before Rafe stepped away from the door, hand outstretched.

  “It isn’t going to do you a damn bit of good like that.”

  “I’m good.” She shook her head.

  He pointedly glanced at his hand. And waited. “Red.”

  She was in too much pain to protest. “Fine. I’m not good, but I honest-to-God don’t think I can move right now. Maybe in a minute. Or sixty.”

  “You need ice now, not in an hour.”

  “I’m sure you saw how long it took me to actually sit down. It’ll take me at least double that to get up again. An hour’s the best I can do.”

  The lines around Rafe’s mouth smoothed as he scanned her face. He surprised her by draping her arm over his shoulder and gently easing her up into a standing position. “Lean on me. Easy does it.”

  “And here I was about to do a handstand.” Her gaze dropped to the sight of his threatening smirk. “Sorry. I tend to get a little bitchy when I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.”

  “It’s good to know you have the ability to turn into even more of a smartass. But just so you know, you look like you’ve been leveled by a fleet of Macks. Lift your shirt. Or better yet, take it off.”

  He didn’t so much as bat an eye at her skeptical glare. This time, he smiled—an honest-to-God, dimple-inducing smile. The rare action brought a tuft of lines to the corners of his eyes.

  The man was a walking personification of intimidation, but this version, with his gentle touch and laugh lines, didn’t just take her breath away. It sucked the oxygen straight from her lungs and melted every still-functioning brain cell. Even in thought, she was only able to form one- or two-syllable words.

  Hot. Body. Everywhere. Okay, so the last word had a third syllable, but it took a lot of effort. At least the sudden burst of arousal meant her organs weren’t poised on the brink of shutdown.

  “Sweetheart,” Rafe said, grinning wickedly, “it’s really unfair to look at me like that when you’re not capable of acting on it. We got to get that ice where it’s going to do some good, and to do that, I need skin. A lot of it. No need to be modest. It’s only the two of us.”

  Penny didn’t know if it was worse knowing they were alone or trying to figure out what he meant by that statement. Did he want her to act on it? Or more importantly, did she want him to do the acting? Her head told her no, but the little flutter in her stomach called her a big, bruised-up liar.

  “Where did they all go?” she asked, hoping to steer her thoughts away from where they were currently directed.

  “To look into a lead across town, and Maria said she was going to make a stop at the market and pop in later. She said something about fixing you from the inside out. Warning, though—that usually means tequila. Sip lightly.”

  “Good to know.” Her lips slid into a small smile.

  “Are you done procrastinating?” With a lift of his chin, he gestured toward the shirt. “My clothes aren’t going to come off on their own.”

  Penny looked down at the T and sweats she’d slipped into after her shower. His clothes. She’d known they weren’t her belongings, which Logan and Trey had commandeered from a reluctant motel manager that morning. But she’d been so thankful not to have to shimmy into snug yoga pants that she hadn’t considered how the extra-large shirt and sweats had ended up on the bed. Now it made sense, and so did the scent of clean soap, musky man, and gun oil.

  Rolled into one, it was Rafe.

  “I could’ve given you one of Logan’s shirts,” Rafe said, interrupting her thoughts, “but the only thing he had clean had a cartoon picture of a nurse with supersized breasts.”

  “In that case, thanks for the clothes.” And thank God she’d struggled into a bra. She lifted the hem of the shirt halfway before sucking in a sharp breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Rafe asked immediately, sounding concerned.

  “It appears my ribs aren’t liking the whole yoga stretch thing.” She mentally cringed at what she was about to ask. “I’m assuming you have practice with taking off a woman’s clothes?”

  “It’s practically my favorite pastime.”

  “I don’t doubt that in the least.” She matched his smirk. “Do you think you can help a girl out?”

  Rafe’s blue eyes glittered in mischief. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”

  They worked together to slowly lift the shirt over her head. Each brush of his fingers sent a small zap to her nerves, nerves that traveled down her limbs and coiled low in her abdomen. Although his gaze never strayed from her face, it felt as if he’d scoured her from head to toe.

  “My clothes look better on you than they do on me.” The low timbre of his voice caressed her like slightly roughened silk.

  She choked back a laugh. “I look like I’m playing dress-up.”

  “This is the kind of dress-up I can fully get behind. As far as hobbies go, it may be a close second to the removal of clothing.” His gaze briefly dropped to where her nipples practically pushed their way through her lace-covered bra. “Or maybe not such a close second.”

  Penny’s face heated at the unspoken innuendo. But it was the softening of his eyes as they landed on her bruised torso that made her heart do a funny flip. At two hundred pounds of solid, lethal muscle, the man was a walking weapon, yet he traced around the edge of her black and blue as if cotton balls tipped his fingers.

  “I think it looks worse than it feels,” she murmured, uncomfortable by the sudden shift from teasing to serious. Goose bumps followed the path of his touch.

  “Why didn’t you tell someone it was this bad? This has got to hurt like hell.” His voice deepened the longer he examined her ribs.

  “It doesn’t tickle.”

  “I’m not kidding, Red. If that punk had had a gun on him, you could’ve had a few holes to go along with the bumps and bruises. And then it would’ve taken a hell of a lot more than a bag of frozen peas to fix you. You were lucky.”

  “Well, Lucky is my middle name,” she joked.

  He didn’t look humored. Mouth tight, he grabbed an ACE bandage from the table and stepped close enough for her to see the small fleck
s of silver in his eyes. The warmth of his body suffused hers as his arms spanned entirely around her waist. Gentle and sure, he secured both ice packs into place.

  A fresh, soapy scent clung to his body. His shirt, slightly dampened, molded itself to the hard planes of his chest. She closed her eyes to combat the need to use his body as a pillow.

  “Lucky really is my middle name.” She babbled the first thing that came to mind so she didn’t envision his hands running over every square inch of her skin. “It was my father’s handle when he was in the Navy. He never got the son he wanted, so I guess he figured that it was the only way for him to relive the glory days.”

  “Where’s your dad now?” Rafe’s gaze flickered up to her face and back down to his task.

  “His doctors had been telling him to take it easy for a long time, but easy wasn’t in Admiral Michael Kline’s vocabulary. He had a heart attack a year ago while doing a carrier-to-carrier helo hop.”

  “And how does the rest of your family feel about you traipsing all over Honduras looking for a madman?”

  “There’s only been Rachel and me for a long time—and Trey’s mom.” Thinking briefly of the woman who raised her, a wave of guilt slammed into her. “I may not have been totally candid with Sophie about everything that’s happened down here. She’s had enough to worry about with Trey going MIA as frequently as he does. I didn’t want to add to it.”

  Ever since she’d seen the camaraderie Rafe and Trey seemed to have, a nagging question kept popping into her head. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask. I don’t lie, so if it’s something I don’t want to answer, I won’t.”

  “Fair enough.” She nodded. “You’ve known Trey for a while, right? Before the two of you joined Alpha?”

  He picked up the tape and began securing the bandage. “We’ve known each other since our Ranger days. And then we were placed on the same Delta team. We’ve saved each other’s asses more times than I count.”

  “So you’re close?”

  Rafe’s gaze flickered up to hers. “We’re brothers.”

  “Did he ever once—in all the time you’ve known him—mention his family? His mom…Rachel?” Me, Penny thought.

  Rafe’s silence told her what she already guessed, but that didn’t stop the dagger-to-heart sting in her chest. Years of practice was the only thing keeping tears from welling.

  “You said that it had been just you and Rachel for a long time, but your father died last year,” Rafe finally spoke.

  “He did. And I meant what I said,” Penny mumbled.

  The sudden charged silence opened her eyes. Rafe stared so intently she averted her gaze. Even with the ice packs firmly in place, he’d only moved to give her chin a gentle tug up. The intensity on his face made her squirm. On the outside, he fit in with the dangerous clientele at Maria’s bar. Lethal. Dark. Dangerous. But the hard outer package wasn’t what unnerved her.

  Bright blue and a hint to his mixed heritage, his eyes darkened and dropped to her mouth. Something told her a kiss from Rafe would be as dangerous and uncontrollable as the comfort gained from being in his arms. To give in to either urge would pop apart her safely bubble-wrapped life. But damn, she wanted a taste of both.

  “We’ll find a way to get Rachel back, Red.” Rafe’s voice lowered, his thumb caressing the corner of her mouth. “You don’t need to subject yourself to…this.”

  “This is nothing compared to what Rachel’s probably going through. If it brings her home, I’ll go through this and a hell of a lot more.” Her voice caught in her throat.

  Years of keeping tears at bay ended when moisture brimmed her eyes. Man, she was a raging mess, so near the edge that a few nice words and a simple touch could push her right over the cliff.

  She hated crying, loathed the exposed feeling it always left behind. And that’s how she’d felt since that last frantic e-mail from Rachel. Exposed and open. Standing this close to Rafe, feeling the scorch of heat building with their prolonged silence, only made that sensation worse. The man was a walking, breathing supernova. There was no way she wasn’t going to get burned.

  “I really appreciate the fact that you and Alpha are willing to help me find her,” Penny said truthfully. “It’s not like I don’t trust you all, but—”

  “But she’s your family,” he finished.

  She swallowed the forming lump starting to clog her throat. “My only family. I can’t with good conscience step aside and watch others do for her what I should be doing myself.”

  Rachel always came first, and Penny knew the feelings were returned. It was the way it had been even when her father was alive. Because even as a young girl, she’d quickly come to the realization that unless she slipped into Navy dress whites and memorized every tactical maneuver from A History of War and Conflict, she wasn’t enough to keep a man like her father content and happy.

  The look on Rafe’s face was unidentifiable—lips tightened, eyes narrowed. His gaze roamed her face as if trying to memorize every slight dip and freckle.

  “This isn’t going to be a walk in the park.” His voice drew Penny from her daze. “We don’t know more than we do, and Fuentes always seems to keep one step ahead.”

  “And here I thought he’d erect flashing neon lights that would point us in the right direction.”

  Rafe’s large form, still less than an inch away, chased the chill from her body. The seriousness of the moment was slow to drain away, but it did, replaced by something infinitely more dangerous. A sense of security. Protection. Penny couldn’t remember the last time she’d let someone hold her.

  Rafe’s hands steadied her as she lifted onto her toes and touched her mouth over his. It started off as a faint brushing of lips, but then Rafe’s fingers slipped into her hair and his mouth moved with hers. His near-instant reaction threw her so off-balance, she clutched his shirt and leaned closer, gently taking his bottom lip between her teeth.

  Her chest flush against his, Penny appreciated the stark contrast of his hard body and soft touch. His large palm skated up her back, catching beneath the hook of her bra while his other gently held her in place for the slow tangle of lips and tongue.

  As far as first kisses went, this was high up on her list of best kisses ever. Like, the very top. She savored every glide of his hands and shift of his hips. Her hardened nipples brushed against his shirt while his thick erection pushed against her stomach.

  Rafe’s touch was better than any ice pack or drug—right until her body protested her desperate need to get closer by blasting a shot of pain between her ribs. She sucked down a hiss.

  Rafe ignored her disapproving whimper and pulled away. Their heavy breaths mingled as their chests rose and fell. She couldn’t even remember her own name as his gaze scoured every inch of her face. “We better stop right here, Red. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She almost asked if he meant emotionally or physically, because she could take physical pain as long as he kept touching her. Before she had the chance to make a fool of herself, booted steps thudded up the back porch.

  Rafe reacted in an instant, pulling a gun from the back of his pants before turning toward the open doorway leading into the kitchen.

  Chase barreled into the house first. “We’ve got a fucking problem on our hands.”

  Rafe tucked both his Glock and Penny’s half-naked body at his back. “Plan B?”

  Sean’s face looked even grimmer than normal as he stepped into the kitchen. “We’re moving straight to D. As we speak, Charlie’s polishing up everything we have for the grand appearance of shipping magnate Rafael Manuel. It’s all or bust.”

  Penny peeked from around Rafe’s large body. “Who’s Rafael Manuel?”

  “Our Hail Mary,” Rafe answered, face grim. “And you’re looking at him.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Eerie red and blue lights pierced through the darkness, pulsing to the beat of the music as they flickered over the sea of scantily dressed bodies. Smoke, sex, and weal
th. The basement club of El Sótano reeked of all three.

  Penny’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting, and when they did, she did a double take. Groups of twos and threes swayed and moved. Hands touched and probed, some not bothering to hide the fact that they were having sex on a very public dance floor.

  Plan D, which involved Rafe posing as a self-made millionaire and her as his American arm candy, was about to take a very interesting twist.

  Stepping onto the main floor of the basement club, Penny skirted around a wandering hand and huddled closer to Rafe’s side. “Until a minute ago, I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel overdressed.”

  He settled a hand low on her hip. A tingling heat brushed over her everywhere his head-to-toe scan traveled, confirming that after two days of rest and ibuprofen, she was most definitely on the mend.

  Rafe’s wicked grin widened. “Trust me—you look perfect.”

  That comment from any other guy would’ve sent her eyes into a massive roll. But when Rafe said it, she believed him. And she was also back to feeling naked. Calling her outfit a dress was probably overstating it by a few square yards of fabric—a silky green scrap of cloth, maybe. And again, her ensemble was compliments of Maria’s dress-up chest.

  Rafe’s blatant approval made her equal parts nervous and confident. On the tail end of that realization came the knowledge that before him, she’d never met a man who made her feel either, much less both.

  A dangerous excitement made her forget they basically stood in the middle of a vertical orgy.

  Thank God he couldn’t see her blush. “How are we going to find Fuentes in this madhouse?”

  “We’re not going to have to. His men told him we were here the moment we gave my name at the door. Now we relax and wait for him to come to us.”

  Rafe nestled a series of erotically light kisses from her bare shoulder to the sensitive spot just under her ear. Penny trembled on contact.

  “Relax,” he murmured against her skin, “or I’ll have Chase pull you out quicker than you can lift that lethal knee of yours.”