Grinch Reaper

by Donna Michaels

  Bella knew she shouldn’t mess with him. Finding Paresh and his new friends was more important, but damn, she couldn’t help herself. Never could. Not where Matteo was concerned.

  “Damn straight.” His nostrils flared and gaze flashed with a heat she felt down to her toes.

  “It’s rather cute how you think you’d succeed.”

  “Bella,” he growled, in a low, gravelly voice that made her insides quiver. “Get. In. This. Car. Now.” The vein in his neck bulged and throbbed in unison with his flexing, white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

  Taking pity on him, she got in, mindful of the pile of glass on the floor. “Fine. Since you asked nicely.”

  And also because her damn knees had actually weakened under the force of the arousal he awoke inside her.

  Not good.

  “Care to tell me where we’re going?” He lifted a brow, which only added to his overwhelming sex appeal.

  As if he needed more.

  Bastard.

  She snorted. “A one-way trip on the crazy train.”

  He turned to face her but instead of a grumpy retort, he snickered. “We always did have season passes.”

  “True.”

  They smiled at each other, until the seconds turned into a minute and their amusement switched to something fierce, rampant, and hot. So hot, the windshield started to fog—even with both windows open.

  The urge to climb over the console, straddle the noticeable bulge protruding behind his zipper and take the kiss she’d dreamt about her whole life was so strong, Bella almost shifted toward him. But at the last second, common sense kicked in, and she ripped her gaze from him instead.

  “Head to the abandoned building on 5th Street,” she said, flicking the button to close her window. “That’s where Jalil said his brother might be, with his two new friends.”

  Matteo muttered a curse and clicked on the defroster before shifting into drive. “Two?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, Tariq and Kamal, who—according to Jalil—aren’t Middle Eastern. They’re as white as me.”

  “Shit.”

  Her sigh echoed his. “Yeah.” She knew it meant it was a good likelihood Paresh was mixed up with the sympathizers.

  Crossing her feet, she hit the dustpan, knocking shards of glass from the pile. “Sorry about your window.” The words were out before she could stop them.

  Seriously? It was bad enough she wrote a note. Now she had to go and say it, too? The man was way too dangerous to her self-control. She needed to be hard. Needed to suppress human decency in order to do her job. At times, it meant foregoing pleasantries and politeness. She worked hard to basically be a bitch.

  Then along came a sexy blast from her past, and all that control got smashed into pieces like a busted window, allowing her subdued emotions to escape through the cracks.

  “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just wait for me?” He stared at her through those mesmerizing dark eyes, full of righteous indignation and a sliver of smug tossed in to make them gleam.

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m used to working alone.”

  Mostly.

  “Then you need a new job,” he said as if it were that simple.

  As if she had no choice.

  “I love my job,” she told him honestly. Ridding the earth of terrorists—whether through jail, gun, or blade—making the world a little safer, one monster at a time, helped her sleep better at night. Of course, he probably thought she worked with Knight in some capacity, and on occasion, she did. But her main job was through Homeland, and off the books. “I prefer to work alone. It’s better. More efficient.”

  He pulled to the curb, a block back from the abandoned building, shoved the car in park, and leaned close. “Bet I could change your mind.”

  Oh, he could change her mind about a lot of things. But she didn’t want him to. “And I can change the subject,” she replied, removing her cell phone from her pocket.

  He tipped his head and frowned. “To?”

  “To the fact Paresh and his two buddies are leaving.” She snapped several photos of the trio getting into a truck down the block and driving off before texting them to Brooke. If she sent the photos to her boss, then a phone call would soon follow, and out of respect for Omar, Bella was trying to delay it until she had a chance to talk to his son. “You follow them, and I’ll go inside to look for the toxin, and to bug the place.”

  Grabbing them would alert Rasheed, and the bastard wouldn’t show. But if they listened in, hopefully, in a day or so, Kamal and Tariq would give up details on Rasheed’s arrival.

  “Negatory,” Matteo said. “We’ll both go inside. The place is no doubt booby trapped. I’m not letting you go in alone.”

  “Okay. We’ll cover more ground.” Shifting forward, she shrugged out of her backpack and set it on her lap.

  “Wait.” He reeled back. “You agreed with me? Why aren’t you arguing?”

  A smile tugged her lips. “Would it help?”

  “No.”

  “There’s your answer.” She removed a thermal imaging device to help her see inside the small office building. After a quick scan of all three floors revealed no heat signatures, she switched to scan for non-linear circuits. She found two.

  “Good news is the building is empty. Bad news is there are two traps. One thru the front entrance at the top of the stairwell, and another in a room on the third floor.” She pointed to the spots on the screen, and after he nodded, she powered it down before tucking it back in her bag. “We should power our cell phones down now, too.”

  After shutting her phone off, she shoved it back in her pocket while he did the same to his. They didn’t need an ill-timed phone call to set off the bombs.

  “So…what else do you have in your go bag?” He grinned when she snapped her gaze to his. “Yeah, I know a go bag when I see one. Mind telling me how you happen to have a thermal imager that also detects electronic circuits?”

  Bella reached for the handle and got out of the car without responding.

  A few seconds later he joined her, still wearing a slight grin as he leaned his back against her door. “Any chance you feel like telling me what your job is? You know, the one you love so much? And don’t even think of trying to push that photojournalist bullshit on me.”

  Her laughter fogged the air in front of her as she slung her pack over her shoulder. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you. And I like you too much for that.”

  The latter was no secret. Unfortunately, she made that all too clear in her youth.

  His chuckle increased the fog surrounding them. “Good to know.”

  “What? That I’d have to kill you?”

  “No,” he replied. “That you like me. Too much.”

  She snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head. I have a soft spot for SEALs.”

  In a blink, he caged her between the hot muscles of his body and his car, slamming his hands on the roof on either side of her head. “What SEALs? How many? I want names.”

  His actions, his words, they caught Bella off-guard, suspending her breath as her heartbeat stuttered. What was he doing? Matteo never showed any emotion other than friendship, tolerance, or annoyance toward her. Until today. Damn man was messing with her mind. That’s what he was doing. Messing big time, with his teasing, and flirting, and heated looks, and now this possessiveness?

  Not a trait she’d tolerate with anyone, but damn, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit it made her feel special, made her feel important to him.

  Still. No one was ever going to own her.

  Setting her palms on his chest, she brushed her thumbs over the cold leather of his jacket, feeling it heat between her hands and his hard body. “Be careful, frogman.” She smiled into his serious face, more fascinated than she should be by the tight line of his lips and the way his nostrils flared again. “You’re acting like you’re jealous, and we both know that’s silly, because you’d have to have feelings for me in order to be jealous.”

&nb
sp; He stiffened. “Are you serious? I’ve always had feelings for you, Bella. They didn’t stop because I went to BUDs training.”

  Once again, her heartbeat stuttered. It was the first time he’d ever admitted having feelings for her—a decade too late.

  “As always, your timing sucks, Matteo.” Ignoring the urge to tug him close, she shoved him away instead, and stepped to the sidewalk. But she was under no illusion that it was all her doing. No. He’d let her go.

  They were about to track down the bastard who’d poisoned his father, and could possibly lead them to the terrorist who killed her father. The last thing Bella wanted, or needed, was Matteo distracting her with words and actions she’d longed for years ago.

  If ever she needed to be on her A-game, it was now.

  Slipping her backpack on her back, she approached the building, adrenaline rushing through her veins, warming her against the December cold. Of course, the arm Matteo slung around her shoulder might’ve had something to do with it, too.

  “Put your arm around me, Bella. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, if anyone happens to be watching,” he said through a smile. “Better to appear to be lovers looking for some private time in the abandoned building than a pair about to bug the place.”

  She slid her hand around his back and gripped his hip. “True.”

  So was the tingling spreading down her right side as she brushed against his deliciously lean form. If anyone were to scan her with the thermal right now she’d light it up like the freaking Las Vegas strip.

  “You good?” he asked, in a non-sexual tone and yet, her whole body screamed out a “hell, yeah” in response.

  Stupid body. She cleared her throat. “I’d be better if we were inside.” Where she could release him.

  “Almost there.” He chuckled, and dammit, she felt it vibrate right through her.

  That was new.

  And crazy—as if their attraction somehow magnified with age.

  Not good. It’d been all-consuming in their youth. At least, on her end.

  When they reached the door, he released her. “You’re sure there aren’t any proximity sensors or trip wires?”

  She rolled her eyes, trying not to be insulted. “It’s clear. I do know how to use a TI,” she stated, holding up the imager.

  Bastard grinned a sweet, sexy grin on those kissable lips of his. “Just playing it safe. Don’t want to get us blown up before…” His voice trailed off and gaze dropped to her lips.

  Maybe the cold wind was getting to her, or adrenaline, or the fact she was on the hunt for her father’s killer. Whatever the reason, she was imagining things, because it felt like Matteo was flirting with her. Promising, alluding to them getting together.

  Which was never on his agenda.

  A second later, he turned back to the door. Yeah, her imagination was as rampant as the damn wind howling between the two buildings.

  “Locked,” he told her, digging in his coat pocket to produce a set of lock picks he used with a confidence and expertise that sent a thrill down her spine.

  She kept that to herself as he opened the door and ushered her inside. The smell of stale air and dust made her nose itch.

  “You sure there aren’t any cameras?” he asked, glancing around the entrance full of graffiti tags and empty beer cans.

  “Seriously?” Annoyance pricked her shoulders. She lifted the imager and scanned the area again. “Nope. Just the trip wire at the top of the stairs. See?” Holding the device out, she showed him on the monitor.

  He gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry if you’re insulted, but I’d rather you be pissed off than dead.”

  “Ah, you say the sweetest things.” The tap she gave his cheek was meant to tease him—not her—but the feel of his soft beard made her want to rub more than her palm against his face.

  And just like that, she wasn’t cold anymore.

  “I’m a sweet guy.” He grinned.

  Bella’s snort echoed down the hall. “Humble, too.”

  “Of course. And I’m so humble and sweet, I’m going to let you help me check out this floor.”

  “Wow.” She arched a brow as they headed down the hall. “Generous now, too. Consider my mind blown.”

  He grasped her arm and brought them to a stop. “You’ll know when I blow your mind.” Then he left her to search a room, while she stood with her heart thudding so loud it echoed down the hall.

  Okay, so maybe her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her. She blinked, and took a few seconds to enjoy watching Matteo in SEAL mode. Stealthy, confident, thorough, he examined the room in under ten seconds.

  Although watching him in his element made her hot, it also made Bella sad. Matteo was born to be a SEAL. She hated that he had to give it up because a Rasheed fan-boy attacked his dad.

  If only she’d been in town and not off…doing the job she loved.

  With a shake of her head and a sigh leading the way, she searched the three rooms on the other side of the hall. As expected, she found nothing but more empty beer cans and graffiti.

  “Let’s head upstairs,” Matteo said, removing what looked like a pen from the inside of his coat, but when he pressed a button, it revealed the red beam of a laser pointer. “I’ll take point.”

  She waved toward the stairwell. “Lead the way, Kermit.”

  His lips twitched as he ascended the stairs ahead of her, and aimed the laser at the top to illuminate the trip wire. Without disturbing the beam, they stepped over, and started their search of the second floor.

  For the next ten minutes, they combed each room, hiding listening devices in one with a beat-up couch and discarded food wrappers, then made their way up to the top floor.

  Only two of the six rooms were being used. One had a single mattress, a table with boxes of non-perishable food, two dozen water bottles, and a sleeping bag, pillow, and two new blankets all still in their packaging.

  “Nothing’s out of place.” Matteo nodded toward the mattress. “Looks like they’re setting up for company.

  Rasheed?

  She hoped so, although, it was hard to imagine the smug bastard hiding out in a freezing building.

  After scanning what was probably once a coat closet, she opened it to find several new suits, shirts, and shoes. Bella nodded. “Let’s cover this room good.”

  Together they planted two listening devices, along with several cameras in the vents and casings, then she checked the angles on her imager.

  “How are they?” Matteo asked, walking to each corner so she could check the visuals.

  The cameras were extra important since the room was windowless. It was an inner office, probably a reception area at one time. But, with her imager, and special bullets that cut through walls like butter, she didn’t need a window for the kill shot.

  Her adrenaline kicked up, and she shivered in anticipation. He was elusive, cunning, heartless. No way did she expect it to go easy. But that was fine with her. She welcomed a challenge. She’d waited a long time for this tango to meet her crosshair.

  “We’re good,” she finally replied. “We need to check the booby-trapped room before they come back.”

  Using his laser pointer, they avoided the trip wire and entered the final room. Two mattresses flanked the side walls, a cast iron firepit sat in the middle of the room, and a table was set up similar to the other room, with boxes of non-perishable food, another two dozen or so water bottles, except some were open, and a garbage can that sat under the table with discarded wrappers inside.

  “This must be where Tariq and Kamal are staying,” Matteo said, helping her plant more bugs and cameras. “Do you see any vials or needles or evidence of toxins?”

  She shook her head. They’d turned over both mattresses and checked the floorboards. “No. Maybe they only had the one. Or maybe it’s on them.”

  “Go bag.” He nodded. “Yeah, I noticed their backpacks, too.”And she noticed that this room was also an inner office with
no windows. Clever. But not clever enough she thought, as she checked the camera feed and audio. They were going to give up information without knowing it.

  “Ash or trash?”

  Jerking her head back, she glanced at Matteo. “What?”

  “Ash or trash?” he repeated, nodding toward the unlit firepit. “There’s evidence here. I can feel it. So, which do you prefer to sift through?”

  She felt it too. “Ash,” she replied, heading toward the pit.

  Last thing she wanted was to encounter used condoms in the trash, although, Bella doubted safe sex was practiced amongst fanatics.

  After setting the screened top aside, she removed a pen from her backpack and pushed the ash around, only finding one small shred of burnt paper with part of name or logo visible.

  MPSI

  She stood and turned to Matteo, smiling at the look of disgust twisting his lips while he squatted to examine the trash he spread out on the floor. “Find anything?”

  “Nothing you’d want to see.” He shoved everything back in the can, then stood. “How about you?”

  Nodding, she moved closer and held up the scrap of paper. “I know I’ve seen this lettering before.” Bella wracked her brain, but she was too distracted. “Here.” She used her free hand to dig sanitizer from her bag and squirt some on his palms.

  He grinned. “Yeah, you definitely don’t want to know what was in there.”

  “Nope.” She shivered and help up a finger. “Keep it to yourself. And the bottle.” She dropped it into his palm. “I’ve got plenty.”

  For exactly that reason. Her least favorite part of her job.

  The grin was still twitching his lips as he shoved it in his pocket and glanced at the burnt scrap. “Let’s take that and get out of here before they come back.”

  With the scrap and pen packed in her backpack, she turned to survey the room again. “There has to be more.”

  Matteo blew out a breath glanced around. “I agree. Why rig the room to blow if there wasn’t evidence to destroy?”

  “Exactly.” She pointed to the pit. “That’s the only thing we didn’t move.” She pulled out the TI, and double checked her initial sweep of the pit. “Clear.”