Charming the Snake

by MaryJanice Davidson, Camille Anthony, Melissa Schroeder

  “I hired you.”

  Before she could continue, he whipped around and strode toward her. “Listen, sweetheart. There are people on this planet who would like to get ahold of you.” His gaze raked her body. “And they ain’t gonna want you for your expertise in archeology.”

  Her face flushed, but she didn’t back down. “Brady, we went over this. I’m coming with you. You know I can take care of myself.”

  But I want to take care of you. He thought the words before he could stop himself. There it was, laid bare for his mind to contemplate. He’d always had a protective attitude around Libby, but now, since she’d stepped back into his life, the protective instincts took control. And it wasn’t just to keep her safe. Without even trying to deny it, he knew he needed this woman by his side. From the frown on her face, she might object to any suggestion in that area.

  “Listen. I know you’re smart.” She rolled her eyes. “Smarter than I ever was. And the best damn partner I’ve ever had.” Her expression softened, and he knew he was winning the argument. “But you have been ensconced on Earth in your safe surroundings for how many years? You’ve never had a problem with letting me take the lead before.” She nodded, stiffly. But she’d agreed, and that was all he cared about.

  “Let’s get on our way. I want to be hunkered down before night.”

  Even as he turned his thoughts to the trek ahead of them, anticipation jumped along his nerve endings. A room, a bed, and Libby -- a man couldn’t ask for more than that.

  Chapter Six

  Libby took another gulp of water out of her bottle, and sighed. A dribble of sweat gathered between her breasts and then slid down her stomach. Her legs ached, her head hurt, and she hadn’t been this freaking hot in years. Brady was right -- she’d grown a little soft around the edges. A few years ago, she was able to keep up with him without a problem. Today, she knew he’d slowed down more than once to accommodate her. It had shamed her, but she hadn’t thanked him, knowing he would deny it. And really, a woman had to have some pride. Especially after screwing a man’s brains out.

  “The second sun should be setting soon.”

  His voice was businesslike, abrupt. If there was one thing she could count on, it was Brady’s dedication to the job.

  “How far are we from that outpost you mentioned?”

  He glanced down the dirt path. She followed his gaze and studied the blue-green overgrowth that slipped over the edges like spiderwebs. “About another five minutes or so and we should be there. I know the owner of the inn. It’s decent, so we should be able to get a good night’s sleep.”

  Well, damn, she didn’t want to sleep.

  Where the hell had that come from? She needed to get away from those thoughts. Sex with Brady was great, but keeping her thoughts on their mission was more important. Last time, the web of his seduction had almost made her compromise her principles. She had to keep her head about her so she could cut herself loose at the end.

  “We better get moving.” Brady’s gaze raked over the trees that lined the road. They varied in height, with yellow bark and fuchsia leaves. Dense with green vines hanging from the limbs, it was impossible to see anything that might be lurking. The hair on the nape of her neck stirred, and a chill ran down her spine. Brady’s stride increased and hers did the same. Leaves rustled behind them. She kept pace with him and forced herself not to turn around.

  By the time they reached the fork in the road, they were running. Brady pulled out his stungun and grabbed hold of her upper arm. His fingers dug into her skin as he propelled her to the side of the road. She fell to the ground, feet first, sliding across the dirt and the gravel. She landed in a ditch, hard on her ass, and small rocks bit into her palms as she halted her descent. Brady landed beside her with a grunt and immediately rolled onto his stomach. She assumed the same position and pulled out her gun.

  The overgrown brush on the side of the road would hide them if their pursuers hadn’t seen where they’d slid. A rush of footsteps went by them. Both of them breathed shallowly, trying their best not to be detected. As a dribble of sweat rolled down her temple and the side of her face, fingers of apprehension crawled up her spine. Besides their guns, she knew Brady had a least four knives to her two. But it wouldn’t be enough to fight more than three or four people. If they were found out, it wouldn’t be pretty. She drew in another shallow breath and fought the urge to sneeze. The putrid scent of rotting leaves filled the heavy air, bringing a wave of nausea each time she smelled it. She licked her lips and looked over at Brady, whose gaze never left the path.

  The murmur of conversation drifted to her, and she realized they were probably human from the speech and accent. Bounty hunters? Oh, shit. If they had prices on their heads, they were in trouble. Especially on this planet. She strained to catch any of it, and the one thing she did hear was her name and her father’s. Then the two words she hadn’t thought she would hear.

  Emerald Project.

  Chapter Seven

  Brady felt Libby stiffen next to him and wondered at her reaction. He’d heard them say something about the emerald project, whatever the hell that was, and then they walked off, their voices fading into the night. Waiting several moments to make sure they really were alone, he allowed his breathing to return to normal. His heart still thumped hard against his chest and his nerves were raw. That had been damn close.

  Slowly, he inched his way up the incline and peeked out from behind the overgrowth. Thankfully everything seemed clear.

  “They’re gone?” Libby’s voice was reed-thin from terror, not what he expected. She had a bigger set of balls in situations like the one they’d been through than most men.

  There was something going on here, but he knew they couldn’t get into it out here. Within five minutes, they would be safe at the outpost.

  “Yeah, they’re gone. Let’s get going. Just a few minutes and we’ll be able to relax.”

  He climbed up first, then extended a hand to help her out. She winced as he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the crevice. After looking around the area, he reassured himself they were safe, at least for now. The dim light made it hard for him to make out every little detail, but he knew his predators had the same disadvantage.

  “Let’s get going.”

  She nodded and fell in behind him. Not five minutes later, the smell of wood burning, signaling the outpost was near, allowed him to relax a bit more.

  “Are we near?”

  He nodded but didn’t turn around. Keeping his senses alert was important because muggers liked to hang out near outposts for easy prey. They walked a few more minutes until the road widened, and he smiled.

  The outpost was a variety of smaller shacks built close together, looking like something out of a medieval tale. Instead of the steel and glass structures of Earth and some of the more developed quadrants, this one was made of local lumber, sturdy but definitely unsightly. It didn’t seem like much, but Brady knew on this planet that places where one could sleep inside and halfway safe were few and far between. He stopped, and Libby stepped up beside him. Scanning the area, he decided to go in the back way. Their pursuers had probably headed here for the night. Not even kick-ass cutthroats like them would want to be caught out in the open at night.

  “Doesn’t look like much.” Libby stretched her arms over her head. “But at this point it seems like a palace.”

  “Let’s go around the back.”

  She nodded and followed. There was one thing about Libby -- she followed orders when on a job. Sterling had raised a woman who could handle a dig and could understand the need for orders.

  When they reached the backdoor, he rapped it with his knuckles, knowing that John Hunter wouldn’t take kindly to the two of them stepping in uninvited. Even if they were friends. The door opened slowly, the scent of cooked meat seeped through the small crack.

  “What the hell do you want, you Irish bastard?”

  Brady couldn’t see him, but he recognized Hunter’s sarc
astic voice immediately. Usually he enjoyed a few verbal exchanges with him, calling into question each other’s manhood. At the moment, though, his neck prickled. He felt as though they were being watched... stalked.

  “Open up the fucking door, Hunter. I need a place to stay tonight.”

  His tone was sharp. Hunter, apparently recognizing his mood, opened the door immediately. Brady stepped back and let Libby go through the door first. As he stepped in behind her, he noticed Hunter’s attention was on Libby. Actually, Libby’s ass. He curled his fingers, his nails biting into his palms, and fought the urge to smack Hunter. The predatory look Brady witnessed in the other man’s eyes pissed him off. Because, although he no right to her, he couldn’t help feeling possessive. And, dammit, he should have a right. Biting back a growl, he slammed the door shut and caught Hunter’s gaze. His amused look did nothing to dampen Brady’s anger.

  “What are you doing in these parts, Saint?” His uppercrust British accent was in full force tonight, thought Brady. Hunter used to be an arms runner. The best in the biz. He stood about the same height as Brady but outweighed him by at least fifty pounds, all muscle. He’d grown up with money and rejected it and the role his family had wanted him to play. Something they had in common. But Hunter had actually been a true bastard by birth, the product of a high-ranking British aristocrat and his middle-class black mistress. His father’s aristocratic bone structure with Hunter’s mocha-colored skin, not to mention his dark, brooding presence, made him a favorite of many females of any species.

  “Looking for Sterling. Have you seen him?”

  Hunter glanced at Libby, who was now leaning against the counter of the makeshift kitchen. Brady could tell Hunter knew exactly who Libby was.

  “About three months ago, he and that friend of his... Dracon... came looking for men to help them on some damn-fool quest.”

  “Damn-fool quest?” Libby asked. Her voice was calm, but Brady could feel the underlying tension in her query. “Did it have anything to do with the legend of the Snake King?”

  Hunter nodded. “Yeah. Bought a few men, and then they left the next day. Haven’t seen him or the men since.”

  Libby sighed, and her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the news had added another five pounds to her load. Anger sparked in his stomach. Dammit. The woman shouldn’t have to chase after her father like he was a five-year-old. When he got ahold of Sterling, he was going to give him a good thrashing. Libby should be off living her own life, pursuing her career, or having babies.

  That thought almost knocked him on his ass. He’d never asked if she’d had children, but he knew Libby, and she would never leave her children behind, even for Sterling. And just why the hell was he thinking about Libby and babies anyhow? Wasn’t like he wanted anything to do with kids. His childhood was screwed up beyond anything by the time he ran away, and he knew he wasn’t father material. And just why the fuck was he thinking about it now?

  He shook his head to clear his thoughts and moved on to safer subjects.

  “Have you seen three, four men show up here in the last thirty minutes?”

  Hunter nodded. “Yeah. They came in, loaded to the teeth. They rented a couple rooms.”

  Shit. He should have known. They could trek on to the next outpost, but it would get dicey traveling at night. He looked at Libby, who looked like she was ready to pass out. “Got another room for the two of us? Preferably not close to our friends?”

  Hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “One room?”

  “Yes, one room. What the hell is your problem?”

  “Brady, calm down,” Libby said, embarrassment threading her voice. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  “No.”

  Hunter threw him a measured look and then smiled at Libby. She smiled in response, and Brady wanted to smack both of them.

  “I’m John Hunter. Owner of this fine establishment. And you are Liberty Wainwright. Very nice to meet you.” He offered his hand to shake, and Libby, stupid woman that she was, did just that. But Hunter placed his other hand on top of hers. “I read your article about the new data retrieval machine you helped create. It was truly fascinating.”

  Even in the dim light, he could see her face flush under Hunter’s attention. Irritation crept up Brady’s spine.

  “I thought that after you have had some time to refresh yourself, you could join me for a discussion on it.” Hunter’s voice was low, coaxing, and made Brady want to wrap his fingers around the man’s neck.

  Libby, instead of noticing what a player Hunter was, giggled. Actually giggled like a fifteen-year-old with a crush.

  “Well, that would be --”

  Before it could go any further, he stepped forward and grabbed Libby’s hand. He wrenched it away from Hunter. She shot him a withering look, then turned back to Hunter.

  “I would love to, but it’s been a very long day, and I just want to get to bed.” She was rubbing her palms and she winced.

  “Did you do something to your hand?” Hunter’s voice had turned so freaking solicitous, Brady wouldn’t be surprised if he announced he was running for office.

  “Well, I think I have a cut or two.”

  Hunter stepped forward to take her hand again, but Brady stopped him. “Just show us to our room; I think we can handle it from there.”

  The amused look on Hunter’s face told Brady he’d just been fucking with him. “Sure.”

  Minutes later, they followed Hunter down a dimly lit hall to their room. He unlocked it, then stepped aside.

  “Thank you so much for the help tonight, Mr. Hunter.”

  Hunter’s teeth flashed bright in the dark corner. “Just Hunter, Ms. Wainwright.”

  She nodded, then went into the room. Before following, Brady caught Hunter’s attention. “Let me know if those men leave before morning.”

  “Will do, Saint.” Without another word, Hunter strode back in the direction of the kitchen.

  Brady made sure the door was secured and then turned to survey the room. This was only the second time he’d stopped in on Hunter since he’d exiled himself to this godforsaken planet. This was a much better room. It included a private bath, a couple of bedside tables, and one big-ass bed. He guessed he would forgive Hunter this time.

  Libby sat down on the side of the bed, dropping her pack on the floor. Knowing her hands needed attention, he set his pack on one of the tables and looked for some antibiotic strips.

  He squatted in front of her and took a look at her hands. They weren’t that bad, just a few minor scrapes, but this place had all kinds of weird plants that caused allergic reactions in some humans. She didn’t say a word as he opened the strips and applied them to her hands.

  “So, you want to tell me what those men said that scared you shitless?”

  Her head swung up, and her eyes were wide with something akin to panic.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “They said something, you looked like every drop of blood in your face drained in one second. There’s information you’re holding back, lass, and that won’t help the situation.”

  She sighed. “Emerald Project.”

  He was finished with her hands so he sat on the bed next to her. “Go on.”

  “This was something that Tony and I ended up getting divorced over.”

  “You divorced your husband over work?” He didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in his voice. And why wouldn’t she? She’d left him high and dry when she’d decided their way of working just didn’t gel.

  “Not just that.” She licked her lips and looked at the floor. “I have no idea what the project is, but it was top secret and was draining a lot of money from the company. It’s been around for years. I was working on a plan to do an excavation in the Eruidite quadrant. I got the money, started making solid plans, hired people, got the visas. Then the whole thing was scrapped for the Emerald Project.”

  “What is it?”

  “That was my question. I’d worked
there for three years and never heard of it, so I asked Tony. At first he played dumb. Then he got downright nasty. I figured out later that whatever it was, it was illegal.”

  “Why would you immediately think that?” And just why the hell had she been married to him if she didn’t trust him?

  “Before taking over the reigns, Tony had often said that his father had his hands in a lot of pots.” Brady snorted. She shot him a repressive look but continued. “When he moved into the job, he... changed.”

  “How?”

  “Worked all the time, and he became agitated at the simplest things.” She shrugged one shoulder. The move was listless, almost resigned. “After that, our marriage went downhill. When he refused to tell me what the project was about, I left. And that’s all I know.”

  “Well, these men must know your husband.”

  “My ex-husband. I’ve got to take a shower, clean up.”

  He nodded and watched her grab her pack and head off to the bathroom. As soon as the door shut, he thought about everything. Sterling, the ambush, her ex. Something was linking it all together, and he would bet that one way or another, it was going to go downhill from there.

  He worried his lower lip and almost bit it when he heard the water start. Just the thought of Libby naked, the water sluicing over her body, dripping from her nipples...

  Groaning at the image in his head, he tried to convince his body to ignore it. But once it was there, it was no good. His blood was already heating at the thought of slipping into the shower behind her, stroking her wet skin...

  Damn, he was hard as a pike. It was either join her, or wait until she came out. The temptation was too great, and knowing that Hunter would be alert to any problems, Brady decided to take advantage of this one night they would have uninterrupted. He walked to the door and tested the knob. It turned easily, and Brady took that as a good sign.

  * * * * *

  Libby massaged her head as she lathered her hair, hoping to get rid of the sticks and debris that had become tangled in it in their travels. She remembered now why she’d always kept her hair short while she’d worked the field.