“No.” The word sounded as though he was chewing on his tongue. He took a jerky step forward. “I’ll get you for this, bitch,” he snarled, and strode out.
I eyed the guards. “You heard that, right? He threatened me.”
“I heard him.” My gorilla shifted his grip on my arm to raise my hand for inspection. “Do you want some ice?” I realized my legs were trembling uncontrollably when he pulled a chair over. “Sit down. I’ll get some from the bar.”
I sank into the chair and inspected the small chunk of skin peeled back from a shallow bleeding gash in my rapidly swelling knuckles. The second guard glanced over as I sighed and pulled off the loose bit.
“Jesus, don’t do that!”
“Uh?” I dragged my attention up to his horrified countenance. “Why not?”
“It’s gro… um… you wouldn’t want to get an infection,” he finished sheepishly.
I kept my expression solemn. “Right. Thanks.”
My gorilla, obviously a resourceful fellow, returned with ice wrapped in a kitchen towel and a first-aid kit. He doctored my hand with professional efficiency before handing me the icy towel. “Keep that on it. It’ll take a while for the swelling to come down. You really clocked him.”
There might have been a hint of approval in his tone, but I was too tired to respond. “Thanks,” I said instead. “I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble.”
“No trouble. Would’ve been a boring night otherwise. The hotel says to take the towel home with you. You can stay in here until you’re ready to go.” He hesitated. “Unless you want to go back to the party…?”
“I’d rather-” I bit off the words ‘blow Hibbert’, just in case they didn’t realize death was preferable. “…not,” I finished instead.
Chapter 33
Slumped in the driver’s seat of my car at last, I reached wearily for a secured phone. It rang and rang on the other end, and I was about to give up when there was a click and a hoarse voice growled, “What!”
In my exhausted stupor, it suddenly occurred to me that I might have a wrong number. “Is this Brent Dermott?”
“Who the fuck do you think it is? What the hell do you want, Kelly?”
“Uh. Just checking in…”
“Anything urgent?”
“No, I-”
“Then why the hell are you calling me? Report nine tomorrow morning, my office.” The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, my fatigue slowly evaporating in the heat of angry embarrassment.
Okay. Fine. Next entry for the spy manual: Don’t wake Dermott unless it’s an emergency. Unlike Stemp, who always wanted to know the instant there was anything to report. And who was always alert. And who, if not strictly polite, was unfailingly civil.
I eased out a long, calming breath and started the car.
Hellhound pulled me into his arms as soon as I was inside his apartment. “Jesus. Finally.”
I leaned into him and buried my face in his shoulder, the stress of the evening throbbing in my tense muscles.
“Hey, darlin’.” He stroked my hair with a gentle hand. “Ya okay?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t raise my head.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine. I guess.”
“What happened to your hand?”
“Punched a guy.”
“Rip any nuts off?”
“Not quite. By the time I was done squeezing and twisting, he was ready to cooperate.”
After a moment of silence, Hellhound asked, “You serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus. Remind me not to piss ya off.”
I sighed and burrowed deeper into his shoulder. “Not my finest work. I made a couple of enemies I could have done without.”
“Come here.” He coaxed me over to the couch and lowered me onto it before dropping a kiss on my lips. “I’ll get ya a beer.”
“I can’t. I have to drive back to Silverside tonight.”
“Shit, darlin’, it’s damn near midnight an’ the roads’ll be bad. Go tomorrow instead.”
“Can’t.” I toppled over to bury my face in the cushions. “Dermott wants me there by nine tomorrow morning.”
“Dermott’s an asshat.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Don’t have to. He’s an asshat if he expects ya to drive back tonight.”
I sighed. “Yeah. But I still have to go.”
Hellhound knelt beside the couch. “Okay, darlin’, here’s the deal. You’re wiped out.” He ran a gentle hand over my shoulders, kneading experimentally. “An’ you’re wound up like a fuckin’ spring. I’m gonna go get ya a beer. You’re gonna drink it. An’ then you’re gonna get in bed an’ I’ll give ya a massage, and then you’re gonna go to sleep. I’ll wake ya whenever ya wanna get up, but ya ain’t gettin’ back in your car ‘til ya get some sleep.”
“I love you,” I mumbled into the cushions.
“Sorry, darlin’, what?”
I sat up. “I said, that sounds about as close to heaven as I ever expect to come.”
He grinned and headed for the beer fridge.
A slow hand stroked my skin, gliding over my shoulder and around the curve of my hip. I sighed and stretched, my eyes still closed. The hand coasted down my thigh before reversing direction. Warm lips and electric whiskers nuzzled my shoulder while the hand slid up to cup my breast. Dexterous fingers traced ever-decreasing circles until they reached their goal, and I moaned in sensuous bliss and rolled onto my back to offer better access.
“Mornin’, darlin’.” Hellhound’s soft rasp dragged me from my dream. His mouth closed over my breast, his tongue flicking in jolts of pleasure while his hand migrated south to generate more exquisite sensations.
I groaned, the sweet ache coiling up inside me already. “Stop, Arnie. I can’t.”
“Sure ya can.” Magic fingers reminded me that I could.
And in very short order, I would.
“No, I meant…” I caught my breath on a moan. God, those fabulous hands…
I tried again. “I meant, you can’t.”
He chuckled. “I ain’t. Yet.”
The hard length pressing against my thigh made it clear that if I didn’t stop him while I still had a few vestiges of self-control, we both would. Enthusiastically.
I squirmed away. “God, Arnie, I want to. You have no idea how much I want to, but…”
“Shhh. Come here, darlin’.”
I groaned and deflected his hands, my body aching for release. “Arnie, no. I’ve already had one man die in my arms. I won’t take that chance with you.”
He went still. “Shit, sorry, Aydan.” He leaned over to kiss me gently, offering comfort instead of sex. “I shoulda thought of that. Guess I’m thinkin’ with the little head instead of the big head.”
I chuckled and slid out of bed before I could change my mind, my body protesting the deprivation. “It’s okay.”
He turned on the bedside lamp before tucking his arms behind his head to watch me. “Just ‘cause I can’t, doesn’t mean you can’t,” he offered helpfully. “Come back to bed, darlin’, an’ I’ll make it worth your while.”
I wavered, my body’s hungry need threatening to overpower my better judgement. As usual.
I pulled on my jeans with determination. “I can’t. I don’t have enough self-control when you’re all hot and naked. And I’d better get going anyway. If the roads are bad, it’ll be a longer trip than usual.”
He sighed. “Okay, but hang on a sec.” He rolled out of bed. “There’s somethin’ I wanna give ya before ya go.”
I gave him a lustful up-and-down look and yanked on my T-shirt before I could succumb. “And you have no idea how much I want it, but I really can’t.”
He laughed. “I wanna give ya that, too, but that ain’t what I meant. Come on.” He shepherded me out to the kitchen and reached into one of the drawers. “Here. I want ya to have this.”
I stared at the key in his outstretched
hand, my heart swelling to short-circuit my voice. “Are…” I cleared the hoarseness out of my throat. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “If you’re gonna keep gettin’ Miz Lacey to let ya in anyway, ya might as well have your own key.”
I hesitated, and he took my hand and closed my fingers over the key. “Don’t freak out. I promise if ya use that key without callin’ first, you’ll prob’ly catch me ballin’ some other chick.”
I laughed and relaxed. “Thank God.”
“Well, hell, darlin’, if I’d known ya liked to watch, I’d have given ya a key sooner.” He bounced his eyebrows.
I grinned and pitched my voice into a sultry purr. “What makes you think I’m only going to watch?”
“Mmm, kinky.” He twisted his face into an expression of righteous indignation and gestured downward. “Now look what ya did.”
I looked.
My willpower suffered a serious setback.
“See somethin’ ya like?” His growl sent hot tingles all the way from my ears to my toes.
I dragged my gaze back up to his face. “Yes. I like you. Standing there alive. Cold and dead just doesn’t do it for me.”
He winked. “But hey, I’d be stiff.”
“You’d be a stiff. Totally different thing.” I let my gaze dip for one more rewarding peek. “And anyway, getting stiff has never been a problem for you. So hold that thought. I’ll be back.”
“Ya better be, after a tease like that.” He grinned and followed me to the door. “Drive safe, darlin’.” He dropped a kiss on my lips.
“I will. Thanks.”
He sobered. “No. Thank you. Ya saved my ass. Again. I ain’t gonna forget that.”
By the time I parked in front of Sirius Dynamics, my eyes burned from staring at the dark icy highway and my arms and shoulders ached with the tension of gripping the wheel.
Goddamn Dermott, hauling me back here in the pitch fucking dark of early morning on shitty roads, after depriving me of sleep and multiple orgasms. Asshole.
Bereft of the warmth of my car, I shivered across the parking lot and into the lobby, wishing I’d had time to grab a second breakfast and a hot tea. But Dermott didn’t sound like a patient guy, and it didn’t seem like a good idea to be late for our very first meeting.
The guard in the security wicket looked as sleepy as I felt. Poor bastard, manning a booth in a largely deserted building.
He brightened slightly as I approached. “’Morning, Aydan. What are you doing here on a Sunday?”
“’Morning, Leo. Got a meeting.”
He grimaced sympathy and I signed for my security fob, feeling slightly comforted by the knowledge that I wasn’t the only cranky tired person in the building.
“Is Dermott using Stemp’s office?” I inquired.
Leo nodded, and I thanked him and headed for the stairs.
It was five minutes to nine but Stemp’s door was still locked, so I hurried thankfully down the hall to the ladies’ room. Pressure relieved, I washed my hands and verified with annoyance that I looked as exhausted as I felt. I made a face at my reflection and departed.
Beside the still-locked door, I propped myself against the wall, wrapping my arms around myself and sinking my chin on my chest. The weight of fatigue dragged my eyes closed, and I huddled in a miserable stupor.
I jerked awake when I started to slide down the wall, but my foot failed to get the wake-up call. Muttering curses, I shook it vigorously and hobbled around until the pins and needles subsided.
A glance at my watch returned my irritation full-force. Nearly nine-fifteen. That fucking asshole. Didn’t even show up.
Well, fuck him.
I marched down the hall, seething with mental images of kicking Dermott’s ass all the way to Calgary and back.
In the lobby, I stomped over to plant myself in front of the security wicket again. As Leo looked up, loud male voices and a blast of cold air on the back of my neck heralded the arrival of a couple more Sunday workers. Their offensively cheerful banter grated on my last remaining nerve, and I clenched my teeth and slapped my fob down on the security counter.
“What’s up, Aydan?” Leo asked. “I thought you had a meeting.”
“Me, too,” I snapped. “That fucking asshole Dermott called me all the way back here from Calgary this morning and then didn’t even bother to show up. Dickhead!”
Leo gulped and shot a look over my shoulder. “Uh… I guess you haven’t met. Aydan Kelly, Brent Dermott.”
In my life before Sirius Dynamics, I would have sunk through the floor in sheer mortification. As it was, the extra dollop of shitty luck just pissed me off even more.
“Oops. Guess that was my outside voice,” I snarled.
I turned to meet the glare of the large man behind me, obviously Dermott by his rising colour. His bushy eyebrows met in the middle. “What’s your problem, Kelly? You on the rag or something?”
Red surged into the edges of my vision.
Perfect range. His feet were widely planted. I could drop him with a single kick to the balls…
“Here’s your fob, Brent.” Leo’s voice held an urgent note, and I recognized the warning in it.
It didn’t cool my anger, but at least it kept me from sending Dermott’s nuts into orbit. I gave him a hard stare instead. “Do you want my report or not?”
Dermott signed for his fob and straightened to face me, returning a challenging stare of his own. “Yeah. You gonna start something with me?”
Stemp’s comment about verbally abusing and assaulting my co-workers echoed in my memory and I clamped down with every ounce of my self-control. “No.”
Dermott held my gaze for another moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. “But you’ll finish it, is that what you’re saying?”
I shrugged and kept silent.
He laughed. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Leo gave me a warning glance, and I returned what I hoped was a reassuring smile before trailing after Dermott.
Seated in Stemp’s office, Dermott leaned back in the chair and regarded me with arms crossed over chest. “So?”
I kept my voice calm and level. “So it was Fuzzy Bunny’s corporate Christmas party for their local office workers and some people from their other branches. The only conversations at the party seemed to be about legitimate business. But when I was hiding in a corridor, I overheard Parr talking to somebody about delivery of a prototype, and he used the word ‘covert’. He also asked me about a name on the phone list, a George Harrison. And then he invited me to fly to Vegas on Thursday on his private jet.”
Dermott’s arms dropped, his eyebrows going up. “He’s putting the moves on you already? Nice work.”
“No, I don’t think so. He said he just wanted to talk, and that’s the only time he has available.”
Dermott leered. “Talk. Yeah, right. Well, good. Get your stuff together for a nice little holiday in Vegas.”
I hid my fear. I hadn’t actually expected to avoid going. I had just been hoping really hard…
I sighed. “Except he might have realized I’d overheard his conversation.”
“Well, did he or didn’t he?”
“How the hell do I know?”
Dermott scowled. “Well, I guess you’ll find out.”
Not the words I’d been hoping for.
I applied my best stoic facade and pushed my credit card receipt across the desk. “Here are my expenses.”
He scanned the receipt briefly before turning an outraged glare on me. “What the fuck, Kelly? You think we’re here to cover your shopping therapy?”
I squelched my temper and held onto my calm voice. “I needed clothes for the party on short notice. I didn’t have a choice.” I slapped Harchman’s cheque down on the desk with perhaps a little more emphasis than necessary. “This should cover it.”
Dermott reached slowly for it, holding me in his scowl. When he transferred his gaze to the cheque, his eyebrows shot up. “What the hell is
this?”
“A business transaction. You can expect regular monthly cheques from here on in. Probably not as big as this one, though.”
His eyes narrowed. “You can’t just go shaking down legitimate businessmen.”
“I didn’t shake him down.” I hesitated. “Well, okay, I did. But it’s legit. Kind of. It’s my cut of the take from the Arlene Cherry videos.”
“Oh yeah, those.” I waited for a leer and a piggish comment, but none came. Instead, he eyed the cheque thoughtfully. “The Department can’t cash this. It’s a personal cheque to you.”
“I’m sure the accounting department will figure something out.”
Dermott gave me a piercing scrutiny. “Don’t you think he owes you personally?”
“He sure as hell does owe me, the little prick, but I don’t want his money.” A vicious smile crept unbidden to my lips. “Actually, it was a rather satisfying exchange last night. Maybe Parr will give me a copy of the video footage for my viewing pleasure.”
Dermott frowned as his gaze travelled to my bruised knuckles. “You nailed him in public on camera? Shit, he’s a big-ass mover and shaker. What the hell were you thinking? And why isn’t he pressing charges?”
“No, he wasn’t the one I hit. I just grabbed him by the balls. He’ll be too embarrassed to press charges. And Parr thought it was funny, so that worked for me.”
“You had him by the balls.” A grin spread over Dermott’s face. “At a fancy party. On camera. To the tune of fifty-three large.” His grin widened. “I gotta say it, Kelly. Ballsy. Really ballsy.” He leaned back in the chair and laughed at his own joke, and I couldn’t prevent an evil snicker at the memory of Harchman’s squeaky discomfiture.
Dermott sobered. “Okay, I’ll run the cheque by the bean counters and see what they say. So who’d you hit? Was that on camera, too?”
I sighed, all my amusement draining away. “Yeah. That was stupid. I punched Paul Hibbert in the face.”
His brows drew together again. “Yeah, that probably was stupid. What happened?”
“Well, we had a… history… from before,” I began.
“Yeah, I read your report,” Dermott interrupted. “So?”
Spy, Spy Away Page 26