True Peril

by Veronica Forand

  “A proper wife wouldn’t mock me in front of others.” Simon wrapped his left arm around her, and with his right hand grabbed one of the skillets and shook the rainbow of vegetables cooking in what smelled like garlic.

  Cassie tilted her head back and kissed him. “He’s in denial of his domestic side. He’ll find it, though, after changing a few hundred nappies.”

  For all of Simon’s bravado, he seemed to have met his perfect match in his wife. They’d be a fun pair to hang around. No wonder Dane liked them.

  They’d be great parents, too, except the house wasn’t child friendly yet. A Heckler & Koch HK45 sat on the counter. What the hell? She’d seen that gun in some of the magazines she read to keep current with military practices.

  “That is one heck of a weapon.” What else could she say? Are you insane enough to leave a gun sitting on your counter?

  “You like guns?” Simon’s brows lifted.

  “Love them,” she lied. “My father collects all sorts of weapons. When I was twelve, he took me to the firing range to teach me how to shoot.” She didn’t mention that her actual gun experience had involved going through the police academy before her parents halted her career choice, and later taking away hundreds of guns from kids under the age of eighteen. Sometimes it took a little coercing for the older ones to hand over firearms, so she would ask them to teach her how to handle them, act all impressed, and then tell them she’d store them away while they attended classes.

  Simon picked it up, checked the safety, and handed it to her.

  The weight was balanced for a larger grip, but she could manage it. Maybe he was in law enforcement. She tried to keep her expression as impressed as possible without getting all preachy.

  “Have you ever handled a New Model Super Blackhawk?” Simon glanced toward Dane, who stared at the gun in Eve’s hand.

  “No. I’ve read that the ten-and-a-half-inch barrel can hit accurately at two hundred yards.” Effectively murdering someone from so far away, you won’t feel any guilt about it. She handed him the HK45 back, and he placed it on top of the refrigerator.

  “With a good shooter, it can.”

  “Nice,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Time for dinner, everyone.” Cassie clasped Simon’s hand and walked into the next room.

  Dane pulled Eve from behind and leaned his mouth against her ear until his breath sent emotional chills through her. “Shooting is your hobby?”

  She pressed her ear against his cheek to stop the shiver. “I understand guns. Occupational hazard. Do you like guns?”

  “They come in handy at times,” he whispered. Then he kissed her neck and almost had her falling into his arms, but before she could collapse, he separated from her to speak with Simon.

  She followed two steps behind and stared at the backside of her husband. He may be a temporary spouse, but for a few more nights, he was hers.

  Cassie stopped at a tall archway and waved Eve into the brightest dining room she’d ever seen. One wall displayed a large colorful quilt in a wedding ring pattern, and the dishes on the table bloomed with green and pink floral patterns. Cassie sat at the end of the table, while Simon buzzed around serving a decadent meal of chicken and vegetables.

  When he finally sat, he lifted his fork to his wife’s mouth. “For Junior. Two bites of chicken. You’re missing protein.”

  “If I eat this, will you avoid vodka for dessert?”

  “Maybe.”

  She laughed and picked up a few nuts from a small bowl in the center of the table. She popped them into her mouth one at a time. “Mmm. So much better than your chicken.”

  His eyes were directed at her lips, her eyes on his mouth. “I highly doubt that.”

  “I could live off nuts and your stir-fried vegetables.”

  When Cassie ate another nut and then moaned, Eve had to turn away. She was becoming heated watching their erotic exchange. Focused instead on her wine, she drank too much, but successfully avoided witnessing Simon and Cassie make love over food. When Dane reached out and touched her hand, she almost melted into his lap.

  He pulled her closer and spoke in hushed tones. “Sickening, aren’t they?”

  She nodded. “But in a good way.”

  After they’d all pitched in with the dishes, Simon and Dane disappeared, leaving Eve with Cassie and some herbal tea.

  “How did you meet Dane?” Cassie asked.

  Eve stuck with the story, although lying to this really nice woman bothered her. “A long layover on a plane bound to Florida.”

  “Florida? That’s great. He’s the most amazing guy. I’m glad he found someone special.” Cassie’s expression, with her arched eyebrows and half grin, seemed to be hiding something as well. “Where did you two get married?”

  “Monterey, on the beach.” A beautiful fictional memory. She imagined that they’d both have been in bare feet, and she would have held a bouquet of white roses and calla lilies.

  “How romantic. I’m so happy for you both,” said Cassie, the woman with the monster of a man madly in love with her.

  Eve smiled and tried to hold back a laugh. Being bound to one person for the rest of his life was not exactly in Dane’s plans for the future. Or hers.

  …

  Dane always hated watching Cassie and Simon become lovesick adolescents in front of him. He wasn’t jealous, although he’d been caught up in Cassie’s beauty when he’d first met her. Who wouldn’t be? Like a Viking goddess, she towered over the masses with her halo of gold hair. Regrettably, she’d already fallen in love with Simon at the time and didn’t believe in meaningless flings. The couple’s adoration of each other only became more pronounced as Cassie’s belly grew. If Dane didn’t have to drive back to London, he’d drink himself into an oblivious stupor in order to tolerate their presence, as Eve seemed intent on doing. Each sweet endearment and loving touch between their hosts caused her to take another large swallow of wine.

  Simon invited Dane into his study for some port after dinner. It wasn’t so much an invitation as an order.

  “Try this. It’s a Fonseca forty-year-old tawny.” He handed Dane a small snifter. One sniff revealed dark chocolate, followed by roasted malt, and a hint of oak. Simon had the best collection of port in Europe.

  “Excellent choice.” Dane savored the first sip before he sat in a large leather chair and waited for Simon’s lecture on responsibility. “Too bad you don’t have a piece of dark chocolate to complement this.”

  Simon opened a wall cabinet above the bar. He presented Dane with a small box of Belgian chocolate.

  Dane found a perfect piece with almonds. “You’re like a Boy Scout. Remind me to become lost in the woods with you.”

  Simon shook his head. “I wouldn’t be lost if I was in the woods.”

  “True.”

  Simon sat in the other leather chair. “I contacted your friend in the Andes and told him we’d be making alternative plans for the movement of the cargo in his area. He wasn’t happy about losing money he’d never been entitled to in the first place.”

  “He appreciates gain with minimal output. He’ll get over it. I appreciate your help. I didn’t think a businessman or a CIA operative would fare as well as an associate of Simon Dunn. The greedy SOB wanted something for my presence in his territory.” Juan Carlos could never gain an advantage over Simon. Juan Carlos isolated himself on a mountain, while Simon needed to be aware of threats against him on every continent and from allies and enemies alike.

  “As you can see, working for me has its advantages.”

  “It also requires twenty-four-seven security around your family, an armored car, and a constant need for vigilance.” Not exactly a relaxing lifestyle.”

  “Keeps me alert. People most likely want you dead, too, but you don’t have the funds to protect yourself, and neither your corporation nor your government care if you live or die. At least I’d care if you died. It would mean a heavier workload for me.”

  “I appreciate
that. Perhaps you can name your next helicopter after my dead body.”

  “I could arrange that.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m in a good place professionally.”

  Dane had his own future plans mapped out. In a few years, he’d retire and disappear from the world. He hated being employed, especially to someone who didn’t tolerate dissension. Yet another reason Simon would never be his employer. They dealt with each other better as friends. In addition, the CIA would have to approve of his transfer to a new position, and he doubted they ever would.

  Returning to the more dangerous world which Simon ruled was not high on Dane’s bucket list. He’d killed too many people in the early days of his career. To whitewash the violence of his past, he’d tried calling himself a sniper, but that wasn’t true. He’d been an assassin, an expert with guns, poison, explosives, his own hands, and his knife. Any method possible to get the job done. The people he’d killed didn’t die for the greater good, they’d died for the financial gain of some businessmen with strong government connections. A total waste.

  “Think about my offer. Run my Central and South American teams and receive a significant percentage of the profit. I need someone I trust to botch deals at times so the guns don’t always arrive at their destination. You’re the only one outside of headquarters who understands why I make the decisions I do.”

  “And I’ll never rat you out to the CIA.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And yet, my answer is still no, now and in the future. This is a one-deal assignment. I’m returning to my boring life by the bay and the beautiful women it provides access to.”

  “So Eve is a short-term front?”

  “She worked with Jenny and killed two rebels from the Red Hawks who were tormenting the village. She stole the two men’s weapons and gunned them down. I’m helping her hide out for a few months until Juan Carlos finds a new person to hate.”

  “A fighter? I’m impressed. And you married her.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not husband material.” He had a future that involved a beach house and a different girlfriend for each day of the week.

  “Does she know of your impeding separation?”

  “Absolutely. She’s desperate to be free to travel the world again and isn’t interested in being married, especially to me. Give her three months, and she’ll be back in some African rebel village with some do-gooder international aid worker to keep her company.”

  For some reason, the thought of her somewhere else with someone else annoyed him. No. It wasn’t annoyance. It was more than that. The thought of another man taking her into his life and his bed bothered Dane straight through to the center of his chest as though he had acid reflux. This was ridiculous. He needed to loosen his attachment to her so they could go their own ways as soon as possible.

  After finishing his meeting with Simon and enduring another vomit-inducing display of affection between Simon and Cassie, he said good-bye and escorted Eve to his car.

  During the drive back to London, Eve rattled on about Cassie and her ability to tame Simon. Simon had never stood a chance when he’d met her. Dane could now understand how a woman could completely turn his life upside down. When the conversation lulled, she searched out famous landmarks, big and small, decorated with Christmas lights and ribbons. Every new point of interest, she asked him to stop so she could run out and look at it. Her enthusiasm for the sights was contagious, but he preferred the scenery inside the car—the gorgeous brunette with the perfect combination of brains and beauty and curves and long legs and thigh-high black leather boots. His hunger for her multiplied, and if he was reading her hidden glances and innocent touches correctly, she wanted him, too.

  When he passed Buckingham Palace, Eve practically sat on Dane’s lap to obtain a proper view. Damn, she smelled good. When she returned to her seat, her position had shifted closer to him. Elbow to elbow, they traveled a few more blocks with Dane pointing out good restaurants and museums. His thoughts, however, centered on making love to his new wife.

  The happiness she revealed while looking out the window made her even more beautiful than three minutes before. Wanting to draw her in closer, he clasped her hand. A hundred ways to keep that gorgeous smile on her face crossed his mind. Her pulse, caught under two of his fingers, quickened, and Dane’s need for her increased in direct proportion to the speed of her heartbeat.

  She pressed her shoulder into him like a cat waiting to be scratched. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoyed having a wife.”

  “Not any wife. Just you. You’re wonderful to be around.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and rubbed her fingertips across his lips. Although tempted to take one in his mouth, he refrained.

  When he released her hand, she placed one finger back on the edge of his mouth and traced the same area he’d grazed over with her fingers. “It’s not difficult being your wife. You’re a pretty low maintenance kind of husband.”

  He exited the car and handed the keys to the valet. Eve stood close to his side. Very close. “Maybe it’s because you’re everything I ever thought I’d need in a wife.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.” Her fingers brushed his chin and down his neck to rest between the back of his collar and his bare skin, so incredibly soft and gentle.

  “I’m serious. You’re sexy, smart, and can kill any enemies that come into range. What’s not to love?”

  His hands framed her face, and he moved in for a kiss. Those sexy, amazing lips opened enough to allow him to savor and enjoy her unique taste, a warm, wet peppermint flavor mingled with something that caused his blood pressure to spike. She kissed him back with a fevered response. Her fingers laced through his hair. They needed to get into the apartment before he embarrassed himself. And he never embarrassed himself. But this attraction between them was a force of nature that couldn’t be stopped.

  The trip through the lobby to the room involved kisses nibbled behind her ear, a hand draped over his ass, and challenges whispered between them. She ran off to her room for a second, and he went to his room to rid himself of his shoes and anything that would slow them down.

  A thud sounded from the living room area. He raced out of his bedroom in nothing but his boxers, carrying his gun. Eve sprawled on the floor by the bar in the main living area, one bare leg headed in the wrong direction and her face scrunched in pain. Her black tank top had lifted during the fall, and a wisp of ebony lace peeked out, tempting as hell. She’d shed the sweater dress. The boots, thank God, remained on.

  “What happened?” After looking at the windows and door, he placed his gun on the coffee table.

  “High heels and marble floors. I twisted my ankle.”

  Kneeling beside her, he wrapped an arm behind her back and one under her knees and lifted. Her arms wound around his neck, and she rested her chest against his.

  “I’m fine. Put me down.” Her words contradicted the smoky desire in her eyes.

  Dane brushed his lips across her hair and almost veered into his bedroom. One of her hands drifted over his shoulder and lingered on his chest. Soft, seductive, sweet. She turned those beguiling eyes up toward his face, and he was a goner. He lowered her to the couch. With a touch of regret, he slipped the sexy-as-sin black boots from her feet, rubbed her legs, and let his hands caress the wounded ankle. He would have held it together if she hadn’t made a sound reminding him of the satisfied purr of a cat.

  Her hands began exploring through his hair, behind his neck, and across his back. Their lips touched tentatively and then again and again until she nipped at his upper lip. They continued exploring with their tongues and using their teeth to tempt and torture. So much better than their last kiss by the car. He slid his fingers through the deep opening in her shirt and pushed the material from her shoulder. Lowering his mouth to her neck, he licked and nibbled and sucked on her skin until she whispered, “More.”

  “Take it slow, beautiful. We have all night. Wait here. In that exact p
osition.” With her clothes disheveled and her hair softly framing her face, he needed maximum control to walk away.

  He filled a bag of ice from the freezer, grabbed a condom from his bedroom, and hurried back to her side.

  She’d moved. Sitting up, Eve now appeared even more porn queen than newlywed. She’d wet her lips to a moist shine, and her gaze wandered over his mouth and down his chest to the bulge in his boxers.

  “You moved. You should be punished.” He approached her and placed the ice on her ankle, already slightly swollen.

  “I’m not submissive, if that’s what you’re looking for. I fight back. In fact, I play dirty.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  His hands traced a path from her ankle, past her knee and between her legs. He lingered there a while, torturing her, and then slid a finger over the lace of her panties to find her opening moist, hot, and completely ready. “You want me.”

  “I always have.” Her lips dropped to his nipple, and her hands covered his cock. Heat and pure need took over.

  “You’re killing me,” he growled.

  “No problem,” she murmured with her lips against his skin. “I’m really good at mouth to mouth resuscitation.”

  He removed her tank top, but left the silky bra in place. The contrast of her tanned skin and the shimmery black caused him to suck in his breath. Heat surged through him.

  Her nails dug into his ass cheeks and pulled him half on top of her. He took advantage of the position to explore all of her exposed skin from her forehead to her toes and several very wet spaces in between.

  He grabbed the ice pack off her ankle. The cold against the palm of his hand slowed his pace and steadied his desire. He rested the ice at the base of her throat. Her muscles tensed, and she lifted her hips to rub herself against him. She tried to remove the bag, but Dane took control of her mouth and latched onto her hands to prevent her from moving. Her body, however, continued to shift and move and create the most amazing sensations Dane had ever felt. When he released her, her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him close.