Pandora's Box

by K. C. Blake

  “And he got pissed,” Tyler finished the story for her. “Yeah, I’ve seen it before. He wants you. You burn him, but you go off with someone he thinks isn’t fit to wash his feet. So he tells everyone you’ve been with him to settle the score and to keep himself from looking like a loser.”

  “It didn’t work.”

  Tyler tilted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long drink. Madison watched his throat work. Heat burned a trail through her. She had to fight the urge to touch him. There was something so familiar about him. Maybe they’d met in a previous life.

  A slow grin formed on those sexy full lips. He confessed, “I’ve read your file.”

  “Yeah? Anything interesting?”

  “Loads. You’re a damn good agent.”

  Her eyes narrowed on his handsome face as she tried to decipher his expression. He’d be an excellent poker player. There wasn’t a hint of emotion riding on the surface. Oh yes, this man was definitely a kindred spirit.

  He added, “If we work together, I think we can find the person trying to assassinate my father and clear yours in the bargain.”

  “Nice try.” She smiled. “I work alone.”

  Before he could stop her, she grabbed her coat and made a hasty exit. Out the front door, the chilly night air smacked her in the face, sobering her more than a gallon of coffee could. Her breaths emerged as frosty fog. In seconds her teeth began to chatter and her hands burned from the unbelievable cold. Oh, why hadn’t she thought to wear gloves tonight?

  Tyler caught up with her a step from the curb. His steel fingers encircled her arm and jerked her backwards, spinning her around to face him in a dizzying rush. It took a great deal of control to keep from sharing a karate move with him. She could have him on the concrete, gazing up in silent wonder before he could blink an eye.

  Madison took a deep breath and counted silently to ten.

  He said, “We’re not finished.”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “You think you have all the answers, don’t you? You’re so smug. Well, guess what, honey? You haven’t even asked the right questions yet.”

  She was going to regret this.

  “Okay,” she said. “What are the right questions?”

  “Well, to begin with,” he pulled her close until they resembled a couple sharing intimacy. His hot breath fanned her cheek and disturbed the hair near her ear. He smelled like musky cologne. He whispered, “You might want to ask yourself who’s been following you since you left the charity ball tonight?”

  If he meant himself, she already suspected as much.

  He pushed her away and stared at her, unblinking.

  She would have said something, anything to fill in the silence. However, she got distracted by a red speck of light moving up Tyler’s chest. It hovered for a moment. Then the tiny dot traveled up his throat, chin, the bridge of his nose, and kept moving until it rested on the center of his forehead. Her stomach lurched sickeningly as she realized someone had a rifle trained on Tyler.

  And they were probably in the process of squeezing the trigger.

  ******

  Chapter Four

  In quick succession, Madison’s hands went to Tyler’s shoulders and she stepped a couple inches to the left. Ready to waltz? Her leg circled around his and struck hard, hitting him behind the knees. She swiped Tyler’s legs out from under him. Fast as lightning his hands gripped her arms. They went down together. She landed on top of him and the breath left her body in a dizzying whoosh. He rolled her beneath him. Time froze. There was nothing outside of the feel of his hands on her back, his breath on her cheek.

  A car window exploded overhead and fragments of glass rained down on them. Madison moved fast. She pushed against Tyler’s solid chest, ignoring his attempt to keep her flat beneath him. He rolled to the side. She pulled her gun free, checked the clip, and flicked the safety off.

  A woman screamed, perhaps distracting the shooter. Madison took advantage of the opportunity. She crawled on the sidewalk to where the parked car ended, peering around the front tire with Tyler close behind her. If she could just figure out where the shots were coming from, she could return fire.

  On the other hand, she had to be careful not to hit a civilian.

  Tyler rubbed the back of his head and winced. “When someone tries to shoot me, a verbal warning would be much appreciated.”

  “There wasn’t time.”

  “You aren’t the only one with quick reflexes. I’m a trained Navy SEAL. I think I can take care of myself.” Tongue in cheek, he said, “I was taught how to duck during the first week of boot camp.”

  “Fine.” Madison shrugged. “Whatever. So tell me, Einstein, what do we do now? We’re pinned down.”

  “He can’t shoot us both. You go left and I’ll go right. We’ll catch him in the middle.”

  “I like the way you think.” She smiled in spite of her vow to steer clear of the president’s son, and her admiration for him grew.

  A vintage rock song began to play, muffled by denim. For a moment Madison couldn’t tell where it was coming from. With a grimace Tyler pulled his cell phone out and answered the call, ignoring Madison’s incredulous look, eyes wide and mouth open with disbelief.

  “Brett?” Tyler said into the phone. “Talk to me later. I have a situation here.”

  He disconnected the call and put the cell away. After a moment he noticed Madison’s expression. He shrugged. “Sorry. Old Navy buddy of mine. He’s known for his horrible timing.”

  “So?”

  “If I hadn’t answered, he would have kept calling. He’s persistent.” Tyler lifted the cuff of one pant leg, exposing another holstered gun. He freed it easily before returning her smile. “Funny how familiar this feels, like we’ve worked together before. Be careful.”

  She took a deep breath before leaving the safety of her hiding place. She ran as fast as her long legs could carry her, ran several steps before darting to the other side of the street. Why couldn’t the bar have been on a dark street? The streetlights glared down at her, showcasing her every move.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tyler cross the street half a block down. A car horn blasted next to her. Another vehicle stopped short, sending her racing around the trunk.

  Moonlight bounced off the rifle’s barrel before the perp pulled it back inside the window. He had taken up residence on the third floor of a vacant building across the street from the tavern. Madison plunged into the building and raced up the stairs. She had no idea if Tyler had seen her go inside or not. Going in without backup was a rookie mistake, but she didn’t have time to find Tyler. The perp could get away.

  She reached the third floor hallway in record time.

  Dressed in black with a ski mask to conceal his identity, the bad guy stepped through the second doorway to the right. He held a huge rifle diagonally across his chest.

  Madison kicked high to the left and swung her leg to the right in a sharp angle, catching him on the side of the face. A sharp grunt of pain escaped the mask. He hit the wall, turned fast in her direction, but he didn’t even try to aim his weapon at her. It remained at his side.

  His brown eyes widened, looking directly at her.

  She recognized those eyes. It couldn’t be true. The dagger of betrayal stabbed through her heart for the second time in one night. Without a word the perp took off. This time she didn’t try to stop him. No need. She knew where he lived.

  Numb from head to toe, Madison left the building. She moved slow, unsure of everything including the ground beneath her feet.

  “What happened?” Tyler stopped next to her, gasping for breath. “I couldn’t find the shooter. When I looked back, you were gone. Did you find him?”

  Madison wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled to the bone. She hated lying to Tyler, but she didn’t feel like she had a choice. “I saw him.” She shrugged. “I guess I had too much to drink and it slowed my reflexes. He got away.”

  It was a lie. She could h
old her liquor better than most grown men.

  “Damn. I’m sorry.” Tyler gently touched the side of her head, rubbing her scalp through a thin curtain of red hair. The sweet gesture almost made her want to cry. It had been a long time since anyone had shown her tenderness. He added, “I should have thought of that. You could have been killed.”

  “I don’t think it was me he was after.”

  Tyler shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “Are you trying to say he was gunning for me? Just me?”

  “The red dot was on your face, not mine. I think he wanted to kill you.” An idea occurred to her. “Wait a minute. You’re the president’s son. Why don’t you have a Secret Service agent following you around, protecting you?”

  He blinked at her, speechless for a moment. “Because I don’t want one and I don’t need one.” He shot her a glare. “I’m a trained NAVY Seal. I can—.”

  “—take care of yourself.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that song. Second verse same as the first.”

  “Need a lift home?”

  At any other time she would have considered the offer. She might have even asked him up for a nightcap. Unfortunately she had a thankless job to do. She had to assure Tyler’s safety by taking care of the shooter. “I’ll grab a taxi. Thanks anyway.”

  He released her with some obvious reluctance. His eyes followed her until she climbed into a yellow cab and waved goodbye. Inside the dark interior, Madison went limp against the back seat. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the concept she was never going to see her father again, and now she had a new worry.

  When would it stop?

  She took the time in the back of the taxi to rest her body and mind for the first time since her father had died.

  ******

  Madison stepped inside her apartment, dropped her coat and keys on the floor, and kicked the door shut behind her. She scanned her apartment for signs of an intrusion. Nothing seemed to have been moved. Of course her intruder would be far too clever to move something out of its assigned place, especially considering how well he knew her.

  “Come out here right now!” she yelled. “I’m not in the mood to play games.”

  Brief seconds ticked by before DeMarco entered the living room with a sheepish smile on his face and an open beer in his hand. He collapsed on the sofa. Patting the cushion next to him, he winked at her. “Sit next to me.”

  The louse was drunk.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing tonight?” Instead of sitting, she paced like a caged animal. “And don’t bother to deny it. I know your eyes. You could have killed somebody.”

  “I’m an expert marksman. You weren’t in any danger.”

  “It’s not me I was worried about. Why did you try to shoot the president’s son, Marc?”

  “I didn’t. I missed on purpose. I just wanted to send a message to the arrogant jerk.”

  DeMarco rubbed his temples, obviously in pain. She almost felt bad for him. Almost. But she realized he probably just had a hangover and she reminded herself he could have hurt, even killed someone tonight.

  Looking up at her, he made a confession.

  “I’ve been tailing you all night because I know how you get. Your father died. I wanted to be there for you, but I knew you’d push me away. You and your damn space!” He paused long enough to rein in his temper. The effort put a strain on him. The lines around his mouth and eyes seemed more prominent tonight. “Anyway, I saw you at the bar with that jerk. He put his hands on you and I lost it.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. You and I have been over for two years. I thought you were past this jealousy crap.” She sat next to him and took his beer away. “You have to stop doing this. You beat Chavez up after I had the one-night-stand with him and almost got thrown out of the service. Now you shoot at the president’s son. That’s insane.”

  He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. A groan rumbled deep in his throat. Madison’s hand hovered over his back for a moment. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t want to confuse him with mixed signals.

  “I’m sorry, Maddie. I swear it won’t happen again.”

  “Why did it happen this time?” She simultaneously put emotional and physical distance between them as she crossed the room to stand alone near the far wall. “Do I need to remind you that it was you who broke things off with me? You explained your reasons and I agreed. Our careers come first, and you know I’m a walking disaster when it comes to relationships. I don’t trust anyone. Never will. You couldn’t get far enough, fast enough. Why are you acting this way now?”

  “I don’t know.” He exploded off the couch and stalked to the window. “It wasn’t planned or anything. I’ve seen the way you look at the guy. When he touched you, I went ballistic. I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I’d tried.” He turned her way, catching her with those warm brown eyes. “If you want, I’ll report myself.”

  “That isn’t what I want.” She joined him at the window, stood beside him without touching, and looked at the top of the WashingtonMonument in the distance. “I just want you to be okay.” Giving into her emotions, she slid an arm around his waist and tilted her head sideways until it rested against his. “Thank you for defending me earlier. I actually thought those idiots were going to lock me up and toss the key.”

  “I wanted to pound some sense into them. I’m sorry you had to go through that and right after your father died too.” He took her hand and squeezed it. They shared a quiet moment.

  Then he ruined it.

  “So what did your father say to you before he died?”

  Madison froze. Her heart stopped cold. Paranoia born of years spent with the CIA and then the Secret Service raised its ugly head. She heard warning bells again. She wondered if DeMarco was asking because he cared about her or if he was working for someone else who wanted the information.

  She pulled free and walked away. She hated suspecting everyone, hated the life she had to lead thanks to the service. Life with the government had taught her not to take anyone at face value. If you let down your guard, you got hurt. Or worse. Dead. Madison’s feet took her to the hall closet. She pulled an extra blanket and pillow from the top shelf.

  When she returned to the living room, she found DeMarco back on the couch with the beer in his hand. He patted the cushion next to him again. This time she chose to join him. When she sat next to him, he slid closer to her until they were touching from shoulder to thigh.

  She said, “My father wanted me to get something out of his safe deposit box at the bank. I’m going first thing in the morning.”

  Madison waited, back stiff, for his response.

  “Want to watch a movie?” he asked. “We can watch one of those old sad movies you like so much.”

  “You mean the ones that make you laugh so hard I can’t hear the dialogue?”

  “Give me a break. They’re sappy and ridiculous. No man talks like that.”

  “Casablanca happens to be a much-loved classic.”

  He made a rude noise with his mouth. “Can’t understand why.”

  She stood and tossed the blanket into his lap. “Of course you can’t. You think Rocky is a romantic movie.”

  “It is.” His laughter slowly died. He gazed up at her, taking her fingers between his. “I really messed up when I let you go. Every time I even think of you with another guy, it rips a hole in my gut.”

  Madison didn’t know what to say to that, so she said goodnight and went straight to bed, her mind reeling. For over a year she had dreamed of a day when DeMarco would tell her he’d made a mistake in leaving her. However, there was a new man on the scene now and as much as she wanted to deny it to the world, Tyler Law affected her as no other man had.

  Her skin tingled at the mere thought of him.

  Before she headed for her bedroom, she heard DeMarco on the phone. He talked in hushed tones, obviously not wanting her to hear his conversation because he was selling her out. She took a
step in his direction to confront him.

  She hesitated. What if she was wrong? She turned around and went to bed. Once there she plotted a way to trap DeMarco—if he had betrayed her.

  ******

  After a long night of bad dreams, seeing her father die repeatedly, Madison woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She’d hoped DeMarco would be gone by the time she finished in the shower and got dressed, but he was in her kitchen, making himself at home. He whistled as he flipped a golden pancake into the air and caught it in the frying pan.

  Show off.

  Watching him in her kitchen, his handsome face beaming with pride as he poured more batter into the pan, the years melted away, reminding her of what she’d lost. He looked sexy, rumpled and unshaven in a snug gray T-shirt.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” he said.

  She glared at him. “This is one of the reasons we aren’t together. No one wants to be around a cheerful Gus this early in the morning.”

  “I forgot how crabby you can be before breakfast.” He handed her a glass of orange juice. “The food is almost ready. I also forgot how much fun it is to cook for someone.”

  Madison’s breath caught in her throat. She prayed he wouldn’t start talking about reviving their relationship again. She didn’t like being pushed on a good day.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I called the city morgue this morning to make sure they have your father’s body.” DeMarco stopped what he was doing for a moment to look straight at her. “They do. I wasn’t sure where you wanted to have him sent. Which funeral home? Did he ever talk about what he wanted?”

  “He has a plot next to my mother.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. The conversation had turned surreal for her. She wasn’t ready to face the fact she wouldn’t see her father again. “I’ll call them later.” She tasted the juice and had to admit it was good. Better than her usual coffee and dry toast on the run. Her head throbbed with a hangover. “Remind me not to drink anything stronger than tea from now on.”