Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2

by Carla Cassidy

  He swallowed as he stared at Deb wearing a hospital gown and cradling a baby. She looked...happy. “Congratulations. I’m sorry for doubting you. It looks like you really do have a child, but there’s nothing here to convince me Zendaris has him.”

  “Well, at least you admitted I’m his mother. Zendaris has him. I’m telling the truth, Loki.”

  “Stop—” he dropped the wallet on the bed next to her “—calling me that.”

  “But I don’t know your real name. You never told me your real name.” She sniffled and her nose reddened.

  She was sucking him in again. How was she playing the victim when she hadn’t wasted any time replacing him in her bed? Hell, she could’ve had a boyfriend when they’d hooked up.

  If she’d lied about that, how did he know any of this story was true? The picture proved Deb had given birth, but for all he knew the boy could be safe with his father.

  “Where is his father?”

  She waved her hands. “Out of the picture.”

  His pulse leapt. At least that was a plus. “I’m sorry if any of this is true, Deb. But if Zendaris has your son, you need to contact Prospero.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “If I contact Prospero, Zendaris will kill him. You know he tried to do the same thing to one of my team members. He tried to kidnap Cade’s son, but Cade was able to protect his son.”

  The tears ran unabated down her cheeks, and they were just about enough to convince Beau that her story was true. Nobody could fake the anguish he read in her face. And Deb Sinclair didn’t cry.

  He secured his weapon and hers and sank onto the bed next to her. Reaching behind her back, he released her wrists.

  She put her hands in her lap and rubbed the red creases on her skin, but the crying continued.

  Slipping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her flush against his side. Her head dropped to the hollow of his shoulder.

  It felt good. He felt good.

  “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her nose. “I don’t think I’ve cried since the day they snatched him. What’s the use of tears?”

  She’d discovered early in life that tears didn’t solve anything. At least her crying seemed to soften Loki’s position.

  And she hadn’t even had to tell him Bobby was his son.

  When she’d heard his voice growl in her ear, hope and fear immediately began to war in her brain. Hope that Loki could help her, especially once she told him Zendaris had his son, too, and fear that he wouldn’t believe her and drag her back to Prospero.

  If he did that, Bobby would die.

  Now was not the time to tell him he had a son. How could she prove to him that Bobby was his anyway? The timing alone wouldn’t work. They’d had a one-night stand, and as incredible as it had been for her, he’d had no idea if she’d had a boyfriend or even a husband at that time. Just as she’d had no idea if he’d had a girlfriend or wife. Might even have one now.

  He squeezed her closer. “Tell me what happened. How’d Zendaris get Bobby and what does he want? Not someone to rob jewelry stores for him?”

  Deb smothered a hiccup with her hand. “One of his thugs impersonated Robert and kidnapped Bobby from daycare. After Robert’s death, I stupidly left him on the approved guardian list. When the man claiming to be Robert came to the daycare with ID, they released my son to him.”

  She crossed her arms across her stomach. Whenever she went back to that day, she got physically ill.

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Almost a week ago.”

  “You didn’t do a very good job of playing it cool. That’s exactly when Prospero pegged your unusual behavior. A little more digging and it was enough for them to call me in.”

  “I couldn’t tell Prospero, couldn’t tell Jack. Zendaris warned me that if I called in the police or Prospero, he’d kill Bobby.” She ended on a sob despite her efforts to stop the waterworks.

  “How did he contact you?”

  “He left me a note at the daycare.” She pointed to the wallet. “May I?”

  Loki may have offered her a shoulder to lean on, but his lean muscles were still coiled as if on high alert. She didn’t want to give him any reason to shoot her.

  He nodded and she reached for the wallet. She plucked a folded piece of paper from the billfold and smoothed it out on her thigh. “The pretend Robert left this when he took Bobby.”

  Leaning over, he read it aloud. “‘We have your son. If you call the police or notify Prospero, he’s dead.’”

  He cursed and jumped up from the bed. “And you knew right away it was Zendaris?”

  “Of course. Who else? He’d been trying to get to us through our families for years.”

  He stopped suddenly and spun around. “How did Robert die?”

  “He had a heart attack.”

  “Are you sure? Heart attacks can be induced.”

  “Robert had already had one heart attack. His death wasn’t completely unexpected.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he paced in front of the window. “What did they do next? How did they contact you?”

  “They sent me another note with instructions to come to Boston, dress a certain way and stand on a busy street corner. While I was waiting, someone bumped into me and slipped a phone in my pocket. Zendaris, or whoever, called me on that phone and told me the plan for the jewelry store robbery.”

  “Where’s the phone now?”

  “In the pocket of the coat I dropped by the door.”

  He picked up the crumpled black coat and shoved his hand in the pocket.

  She jumped up, waving her hands. “Don’t make any calls on it. It’s a special phone.”

  “Have you looked at this thing yet?” He turned it over and brought it close to his face. “How do you know it’s not bugged with a mic or a camera or a GPS?”

  She covered her mouth with her hands. That had flashed across her mind before, but she hadn’t found the opportunity to examine the phone. If it had been recording everything she said, she’d just killed Bobby.

  In two steps, she was at Loki’s side. “I didn’t even look. I didn’t even think. If Prospero could see me now, they’d fire me for incompetence.”

  “I think they’d excuse you under the circumstances.” He squinted at the back of the phone and rubbed his thumb across it. “I don’t see anything that would indicate a camera or a mic, but a GPS is a strong possibility. Did Zendaris tell you what he wanted you to do with the jewelry?”

  “No. I don’t even understand why he wanted me to hit that store.”

  “Control.”

  Deb swallowed and knotted her fingers in front of her as she stepped back from Loki. “I sort of figured that.”

  “He wants to see how far you’ll go to save your son.” He slammed the phone against his palm. “What does he really want from you?”

  “He wants the plans to the anti-drone.”

  “The anti-drone? Is that what I think it is?”

  “A team of scientists and engineers worked on a weapon to neutralize our fleet of drones. They came up with a set of plans for a prototype and one of our agents stole them. Within a few days, they were stolen from him—from someone inside our organization. Nobody knows where they are now, but Zendaris must think I do or at least he thinks he can use me to find them.”

  “Then we’d better start thinking of a plan that’s going to make him believe you can do it while we work on finding Bobby.”

  “We?” She spun around with her arms outstretched. “You’re going to help me, Loki?”

  “Only if you stop calling me that ridiculous code name.”

  “I’d love to, except that night we didn’t get around to proper introductions.”

  His mouth quirked. “There was nothing proper about that night at all.”<
br />
  Her blood stirred. Did he still think about it the way she did? Did he lie awake some nights and relive every sensation?

  Of course, she’d had a living reminder of their night together in the form of Bobby. And she didn’t regret one minute of it, then or now.

  She thrust out her hand. “I’m Deb Sinclair. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He took her hand. She’d expected a firm handshake, but his long fingers almost caressed her wrist as he brushed his palm against hers.

  “Beau Slater, and the pleasure is all mine.”

  “Beau.” The name puffed from her lips. Bobby Slater. It worked. “Why are you helping me, Beau Slater? What’s in it for you?”

  She had to admit to herself that when she’d first heard his voice, she’d immediately thought she could get him to help her by revealing the truth about Bobby’s parentage. A cheap shot, but she wasn’t above cheap shots to save Bobby. But he’d offered to help without even knowing.

  Why?

  “If I haul you back to Prospero, that’s not going to get anyone any closer to Zendaris. If you’re in contact with him, that’s a big step.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Self-interest—she could believe that. “Has anyone ever sent you on Zendaris’s trail?”

  “Yes—” he tossed the phone onto the bed “—but I’m not at liberty to reveal the identity of my employer, even now.”

  “It wasn’t the U.S. government, was it?”

  He drew a line across his lips. “Not telling. Of course, if you went to Prospero and told Jack Coburn everything you just told me, he’d believe you and probably want to use you as bait.”

  “No!”

  “What about your team members? I know how Prospero works—teams of four agents. Let them in on it. They could help you.”

  “Are you afraid you’re not up to the job?”

  His gaze wandered lazily down her body, from her face to the tips of her toes. “Oh, I’m up for the job. I’m just curious why you wouldn’t bring your team in on this. Makes me wonder if everything you’ve told me is the truth.”

  How could she explain to him her inability to trust her teammates? She had such high regard for them and would help them in a second, but she couldn’t dismiss the fact that they were all highly trained professionals—men who wanted nothing more than to get their hands on Zendaris and those plans.

  Would they really let a little boy stand between them and those goals? Because if it came down to it, she’d turn over those plans and let Zendaris escape if it meant keeping Bobby safe.

  “Everything I told you is the truth.” Except for the fact that he was Bobby’s father.

  “It seems strange, like something’s off. I probably should just do my job and deliver you to Prospero.”

  She straightened her spine and widened her stance. “I’m not going in without a fight.”

  A fierce light exploded in his blue eyes. Then he lunged at her and tackled her to the floor.

  Chapter Four

  He was insane. Bobby’s father had gone over the edge. But then, what had she ever really known about him?

  For the second time since he’d bulldozed back into her life, he had her pinned with his body—and it wasn’t as pleasurable as the first time he’d done it three years ago.

  “Get off me.” She shoved at his chest, which might as well have been crafted from stone. “Are you going to hog-tie me and carry me back? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  His heart pounded against her chest, his breath ragged in her hair. His voice rasped. “Stay here.”

  He rolled from her body and began an army crawl toward the window.

  He didn’t plan to kill her after all, or haul her back to Prospero—at least not right this minute. She dragged a few breaths of air into her lungs and brought her knees to her chest, rocking forward.

  He stopped his crawl and whipped his head around. “Stay down.”

  “Why? What are you doing?”

  “Someone just tried to shoot you.”

  “What?” She wrapped her arms around her legs, curling into a fetal position.

  Beau shimmied to the drapes and yanked them across the windows from the bottom. “Crawl to the bathroom.”

  Her mouth so dry she couldn’t peel her tongue from the roof, Deb mimicked Beau’s army crawl until she hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor. Grasping the edge of the tub, she pulled herself onto its edge.

  A few seconds later, Beau joined her. He wedged his backside against the vanity and crossed his arms. “What the hell is going on?”

  “You’re asking me?” The squeak in her voice echoed in the small space. “How do you know someone was trying to shoot me?”

  “You had a red laser beam right here.” He planted the tip of his index finger in the middle of his forehead.

  She gasped and her body sagged. She clutched the edge of the tub to stop her slide into it. “Someone had a scope on me?”

  “Well, I don’t think it was a light show.”

  “Did you see anything out the window?”

  “I wasn’t looking, but there’s a building across the way. It must’ve come from there.”

  She hoisted herself from the tub and flattened her hands on the vanity, leaning toward the mirror. “It couldn’t be Zendaris. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he kill me before putting me to work?”

  “My question exactly.” Beau turned to face the mirror and caught the eye of her reflection. “Unless he knows I’m here and he’s putting the brakes on his plan.”

  “God, I hope not. If he thinks I called someone in to help me, he’ll kill Bobby—before he kills me.”

  Beau ran a hand up her spine and clasped the back of her neck. “Let’s not think the worst. Do you have any way to contact him? The phone?”

  “That’s a one-way phone. I can’t call out on it.”

  “Who would be after you?”

  She met his blue gaze in the mirror and swallowed hard. “Prospero.”

  “Prospero hired me.”

  She shrugged away from him and returned to the tub, gripping the plastic shower curtain with one hand. “Maybe Prospero hired two Lokis—one to reel in the catch and one to gut her.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “If that were the plan, I would’ve left you in range of the little red dot on your forehead instead of pushing you down.”

  “Maybe Prospero is using you.” She shoved the shower curtain away from her and the silver rings clattered on the rod. “Do you really think Jack Coburn isn’t aware that we slept together? He knew all along. That’s why he hired you. He figured you were the best person to find me. Figured I might just trust you instead of running away...or killing you.”

  “I hope he’s right.” He hooked a thumb in his pocket and a crooked grin played across his face.

  “I fail to see the humor.” She shoved her hands in her hair, letting it run through her fingers and fall about her shoulders.

  “Coburn wouldn’t order your execution without listening to what you had to say first. My assignment was to find you and bring you in.”

  “That was your mission.” Her gaze tracked to the open bathroom door. “Maybe he gave someone else different orders.”

  He pushed off the vanity and grabbed her hand. “I think you’re looking in the wrong direction, Deb. Prospero doesn’t want you dead.”

  “Someone does, and it’s not Zendaris—at least not yet.”

  “We’re getting out of here.” He squeezed her hand. “Check out and we’ll find another place.”

  “B-but I’m not supposed to leave.”

  “Do you think Zendaris would rather have you dead? He has you exactly where he wants you. He’s not going to squander this opportunity.”

  She chewed the inside of
her lip. “What if it’s all a game? What if Zendaris doesn’t even care about those plans? He kidnapped Bobby and now he’s torturing me. He has a personal vendetta against us, you know.”

  “Prospero?”

  “Prospero Team Three specifically. One of our members recently discovered that Zendaris’s wife may have been a casualty of the raid we conducted on one of his munitions factories. He blames us for killing his wife.”

  Beau whistled through his teeth. “That puts a different spin on this.”

  “Exactly. He wants revenge. What better way than to kidnap my son and then toy with me before...before he kills us both.”

  Beau pulled her against his chest, wrapping both of his strong arms around her. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let it happen.”

  “Why are you helping me, Beau?” She rubbed her nose against the soft flannel of his shirt. “Is it really just to get a crack at Zendaris?”

  “That and I have a soft spot for...kids.” He tilted her head up with a finger beneath her chin. “Do you take me for some kind of coldhearted killer?”

  She blinked her eyes. “I’d heard about you before I ran into you that night in Zurich—the mysterious Loki, Norse god of mischief. I knew all the stories—the hostage rescue in Mali, boarding that Somali pirate ship, taking down the mastermind behind that string of embassy bombings in London, the assassinations.”

  He put a finger against her lips. “Didn’t happen.”

  “If you say so.” She shrugged. She’d been half in love with Loki before she’d ever set eyes on him in the hotel bar where she’d been gathering intelligence at a conference of oil-producing nations.

  Of course, she hadn’t known the man of steel with the cobalt-blue eyes sipping scotch at the end of the mahogany bar was Loki in the flesh. But on some level, she’d sensed it. Waves of power and danger had emanated from him and washed over her like some seductive potion.

  Their eyes met across the room and an electric current had zapped her down to her toes. Just like now.

  The rough pad of his thumb trailed across her cheek and over her lips, which throbbed at his touch. She dropped her lashes, avoiding the fire in his eyes, afraid of getting scorched once again.