Whatever It Takes

by Dixie Lee Brown

  What was she doing in that bar? She had to be following him. It was too much of a coincidence any other way. He nearly flinched when he replayed the image of her dropping Daniels and then turning on those goons getting ready to shoot up the bar. Shit! Was she suicidal along with everything else? Anger, tinged with dread, did a slow burn under his collar. He needed to know what motivated Alex Morgan . . . and he needed to know now.

  He clenched his teeth, whipped his bike into an alley, and cut the engine. If she was bent on getting herself killed, there was no fucking way it was happening on his turf.

  She dismounted, uncertainty in her expression. As soon as she stepped out of the way, he swung his leg over and got in her face. “Take it off.” He pointed to the helmet.

  Not waiting for her to remove it all the way, he started in. “What in the name of all that’s holy were you thinking back there? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

  A sad smile swept her face and something in her eyes—­a momentary hardening—­gave him a clue to the answer he was fairly certain she’d never speak aloud. Ty had told him the highlights of her story. Joe had freed Alex from a life of slavery in a dark, dismal hole in Hong Kong. From the haunted look in her eyes, however, Nate would bet she hadn’t completely dealt with the aftermath. His first impression had been more right than he wanted to admit. It was quite likely that she nursed a dangerous little death wish, and that’s what had prompted her actions at the bar.

  His anger receded, and a wave of protectiveness rolled over him, but he was powerless to take away the pain staring back at him. He could make a stab at shielding her from the world, but how could he stop the hell that raged inside this woman? Why did she matter so much to him? Hell, logic flew out the window a long time ago. He didn’t know why—­only that she did. With frustration driving him, he stepped closer, pushing her against the bike. Her moist lips drew his gaze, and an overwhelming desire to kiss her set fire to his blood.

  She stiffened and wariness flooded her eyes.

  He should have stopped there, but another step put him in contact with her, and he was burning with need. He pulled her closer and gently slid his fingers through her hair, then stroked his thumb across her bottom lip.

  Her breath escaped in uneven gasps and a tiny bit of tongue appeared, sliding quickly over the lip he’d just touched. Fear, trepidation, longing paraded across her face. Ty’s warning sounded in his ears again—­she was dangerous, maybe even disturbed—­but even if that was true, Nate wasn’t sure it made any difference to him.

  “Don’t be afraid.” Shit! Immediately, he regretted his words. This woman wasn’t afraid of anything. Distrustful . . . yes. Afraid? He didn’t even want to know what could scare her.

  Her eyes softened and warmed, and she stepped into him, pressing her firm body against his. He caught her around the waist and aligned his hips to hers. Ignoring the words of caution in his head, he bent ever so slowly and covered her mouth with his. Softly caressing her lips and tasting her sweetness, he forgot for a moment that they stood in an alley in a questionable area of Portland, that he barely knew this woman, and that they’d just left the scene of a real-­life nightmare.

  He’d longed to kiss her since the first time they’d met. She’d insulted his car that day, and not even that had been enough to get his mind off her lips. Good timing or bad—­kissing her and holding her in his arms was long overdue.

  Chapter 2

  ALEX LEANED INTO Nate’s hard, muscled body, wanting him to kiss her. She welcomed it and reveled in the way his arms drew her close, holding her protectively. She could try to convince herself she hadn’t thought about this for a long time . . . but that would be a lie. How easy it would be to let go and lose herself in the safety he offered. Raw emotions flooded her and started an insatiable yearning in her stomach—­a yearning that something told her he could easily satisfy.

  That would require her giving over control, however, which was something she couldn’t permit. The idea heralded unwelcome memories of a time when she’d never had a choice . . . when she was forced to perform at the whim of another . . . degrading, disgusting acts. Panic wrapped itself around her heart. She liked Nate . . . too much maybe . . . but she didn’t know him. What if he couldn’t be trusted either?

  Rage tore through her, and her breath caught in her throat. She pushed against him and drew back. For an instant, she registered the question in his eyes, but it was too late. Her full concentration was on escaping his grasp. She raised her hand and swung with all the force she could muster, meeting his bristled cheek with a resounding slap.

  His gaze snapped back and something like sympathy darkened his eyes. In that instant, she hated him, and she drew her hand back to hit him again.

  Nate caught her wrist just short of her mark. “Stop, Alex. There are other ways to say no.”

  Alex held her breath. What would he do to her? She’d sensed his barely controlled anger when he’d pulled the bike over suddenly and started in on her. She didn’t know what to expect from him, but certainly nothing in her life had given her reason to expect kindness. So when his cockeyed grin appeared—­the one she’d grown so fond of when they’d first met—­and he released her wrist, she wasn’t sure how to react.

  He leaned close to her ear. “Now that I think about it, it wasn’t that good for me either.” Grabbing the helmet from her hand, he shoved it down over her ears again.

  She bit her lower lip and swallowed the words that flew to her tongue.

  Nate threw his leg over and settled on the seat. “I could use some coffee. How about you?”

  The last thing Alex needed was coffee. She really just wanted to go home—­back to Nate’s house—­and face Joe. He’d be upset with her again. She was only supposed to have found Nate and then called Joe. What was it she didn’t understand about those instructions? Joe would be better off without her on the team, but she couldn’t let that happen.

  She hopped on behind Nate’s broad back and hesitated before fisting her hands in the leather of his jacket. He accelerated to the end of the alley and turned left. A few blocks later he pulled over in front of an all-­night diner and waited for her to step off before he cut the engine.

  “This isn’t the best neighborhood, but they’ve got good food if you’re hungry.” He took the helmet from her and hung it on the handlebars. “Ready?”

  Alex swallowed her impatience, stepped up on the curb, and followed him into the diner. Fried bacon and burnt toast assailed her senses. One booth held two men who appeared half asleep, a man with a cook’s hat peeked out from the back of the restaurant, and an older, tough-­looking waitress glanced up. She followed Nate two-­thirds of the way to the back before they slid into a booth.

  When the waitress appeared beside them, she filled both their cups with coffee, and at the last second, Alex asked for a piece of blueberry pie. It still seemed surreal to eat whatever she wanted, whenever she chose. She couldn’t help a glance at Nate to make sure it was okay with him, and then she hated herself for giving his opinion that much importance. For the three years of her life she was able to remember before Joe rescued her, that was the most innocuous of the freedoms she’d been denied.

  She was convinced she’d been forever changed by her captivity—­and not in a good way.

  Still, her new life with Joe’s team was almost perfect. If she could manage to stay out of trouble, he might even let her stay around. They understood her. Some of them feared her, but she could be herself around them. She didn’t have to pretend. To a man, and woman, they watched out for her, and she did the same for them.

  But it wasn’t until Nate that she’d run across anyone else who made her feel comfortable . . . safe . . . protected. That was no doubt why she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the first time they’d met. Not that his six-­foot-­five frame and broad shoulders would be easily forgotten anyway. Nor the way his ches
t narrowed pleasantly to a ripped and flat stomach. Muscular arms and thighs flexed appealingly beneath his clothes, and she’d had no trouble imagining those muscles tightening snugly around her. Thick brown hair grazed the tops of his ears and curled upward slightly at the back of his neck, encouraged by his usual baseball cap, its brim pulled low to shade his eyes. His easy smile drew her when it lit up his face, even as his rugged features, perpetually roughened by a five-­o’clock shadow, gave her pause. He intrigued her, and left her wanting something she couldn’t name.

  “Will you be all right for a minute? I’m just going to the back.” Nate jerked his thumb toward the bathrooms and her attention back to reality.

  She nodded, and he walked away as the waitress brought her pie. Alex forked a bite into her mouth, savoring the sweet flavor, and washed it down with a swallow of coffee. What was she going to do about Nate now that their attraction for each other had announced itself? She wasn’t foolish enough to think it would simply go away. Or that Nate would be dissuaded by her slap. She had also pressed her body shamelessly against his and kissed him back. Talk about sending mixed signals.

  She took another bite and swallowed. From now on, she’d have to stay away from him. Most importantly, she had to stop thinking about his strong arms, his sexy smile, and the way his eyes darkened when he held her gaze.

  Alex took one more bite before giving up on the rest of her pie and pushing her plate away.

  Nate returned and slid into the booth. “Are you going to finish this?”

  She shook her head and he devoured the rest of the pie in four bites. The waitress stopped at his elbow again, and he pushed his coffee cup toward her so she could fill it. With a deep sigh, he scraped his hand down his face. Leaning his head back against the booth, he closed his eyes. A bruise had bloomed on his left cheekbone. Angry purples and reds covered the swollen knot where one of the big goons in the bar had hit him. That had been the last straw for Alex. She wasn’t equipped to sit and watch some overgrown creep beat Nate to a pulp. So, while everyone else was tuned in to the fight, she’d slipped unobtrusively out the back. Guilt made her somewhat ashamed as she remembered the sting of her hand on that same cheek not thirty minutes ago. Oh well. Apologies weren’t really her thing.

  His continued silence began to grate on her nerves. Before long, she gave in to her natural inclination to fill the void.

  “What happens now?” She pushed her cup to the edge of the table, where she hoped the waitress would fill it when she returned. Left unspoken was her haunting need to know if the men she’d wounded in the bar had died.

  Nate opened his eyes and met her gaze with such intensity she couldn’t breathe until she looked away, but he reached across the table and covered her hand. “What are you doing here, Alex?”

  She slowly raised her eyes to his again. “Joe found Marco.”

  Nate stopped, his cup halfway to his mouth. “Where? Is he alive?”

  She’d counted on his immediate interest. Eight months ago, five-­year-­old Marco, the son of a young Mexican woman, had been kidnapped by a rogue FBI agent in order to guarantee the woman’s complicity in his illegal activities. Nate had shot and killed the agent in a firefight that saved Ty’s life. But he’d also killed the only person who knew where the boy was being held. At the time, it was obvious he’d been guilt-­ridden. Now the hope that flashed in his eyes as he sat across from her made it clear self-­reproach still ate at him. Living with something like that would eventually get to anyone.

  When Joe and Ty had vowed to find Marco, Nate had jumped at the chance to tag along.

  “Nogales. We leave tomorrow—­oh, wait, I guess it’s today already.”

  “Joe sent you after me?”

  “No. I volunteered.” She crossed her eyes and made a face.

  “Real mature, Alex.” A sparkle lit his eyes for a heartbeat before it faded. “How the hell did you find me?”

  She leaned low across the table, glancing both ways. “Walker pointed me in the right direction, but once I got on your trail, it was easy. Should have known you’d end up in some cockroach-­infested dive.”

  Nate held her gaze while a series of unrecognizable emotions flickered over his face. He slowly shook his head. “Do you want to talk about what happened back there?”

  An unladylike snort escaped her closed lips. “You mean the bar? Or the kiss?”

  His gaze held hers for a few too many seconds and his eyes darkened. Finally, he looked down at his hand where he touched her and stroked her arm with his thumb.

  “The bar for now, but only because you’re not ready to talk about the kiss. We’ll get back to that.”

  She did her best to hide the shiver his perusal shot through her. A deep breath calmed her nerves. “What do you want to know . . . about the bar?”

  “Why didn’t you get the hell out when you saw it going south?”

  Alex picked a spot across the diner to stare at and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, opened it, and started over. “I . . . couldn’t. I made a promise a long time ago that I would never be helpless again, and if I saw someone who needed help, I would never, ever disappoint them. I remember what disappointment feels like, and no one should have to experience it.”

  The nightmare closed over Alex, and she couldn’t stop the words that tumbled from her mouth. “Every night I prayed someone would help me and the other girls, but every morning I woke up and faced another day in hell—­until Joe came.” She shrugged and focused on Nate again. “You looked like you could use some help tonight, and I couldn’t leave it alone. I had to keep my promise.”

  Nate scowled and turned away to stare out the window.

  Alex didn’t expect him to understand. How could anyone who hadn’t been taken from their family and imprisoned in a brothel for literally longer than she could remember possibly understand her warped sense of duty? She barely understood it herself, and some days confusion was her only companion. Dr. Grayson, the psychologist Joe insisted she see twice a week, had helped, but Alex had long since realized she was damaged goods and would likely remain that way. Just one more reason why she couldn’t let Nate get any closer.

  His hand tightened on her arm. “That’s a lot of responsibility you’ve given yourself. Maybe you could ease off just a little while I’m around to help?” He directed a crooked grin toward her. “I appreciate what you did, Alex. The evening would have ended a whole lot differently if you hadn’t been there. I suppose I should thank you so you don’t accuse me of being ungrateful.”

  A soft laugh escaped as she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’d never accuse you of being ungrateful. Shortsighted, maybe. Pigheaded, definitely.”

  He groaned. “Did I really deserve that? I’ll never win with you, will I?” Sliding his hand back to his side of the table, he scooted from the booth and stood, dropping cash next to their coffee cups. “Come on. If we’re leaving today, I’ve got some packing to do. Where’s Joe?”

  The lack of warmth where his hand had been left her chilled. She got to her feet and preceded him to the door. “Joe and the rest of the team are at your house. We made ourselves comfortable. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Nate shook his head. “Hell no. My high-­tech alarm system was just a test for you guys anyway. Rest of the team?”

  “Ty and Rayna, Walker, Jim Brady, and Joe.” Ty and Nate used to work together for the Portland Police Bureau. It had been Joe’s idea for Nate to step in six months ago and help Ty on a job that was directly related to one of their old undercover operations. When the mission went downhill, and Joe had asked for volunteers, Alex had raised her hand.

  “You met everybody the last time we were here.” She sneaked a peek over her shoulder as she opened the door. “You’re not really still upset about your car, are you? I saved your ass, you know.”

  “You’re damn right I’m upset. You could have picked any number of w
ays to save my ass without wrecking the Mach I.” Outside the door, he placed a hand on her back and turned her toward his bike.

  Alex grabbed the helmet from the handlebars and pulled it over her head. He straddled the bike and she hopped on behind him. When she wrapped her arms around him, he patted her hands for just a second before starting the bike and leaving the diner behind. The small gesture put a smile on her face as she hugged him tighter.

  She had to fight to stay awake on the drive back to Nate’s house. It was almost an hour later when Nate entered the code and the gate swung open to let them continue up the drive.

  The three-­story Southern-­style mansion was tinged in shades of pink from the dawn-­colored clouds hovering on the horizon. Nate had inherited the home and forty acres from his uncle, the infamous Uncle Leo, who had caused so much trouble last night. Alex couldn’t help wondering if the accusations she’d overheard had any basis in truth. Did Nate’s subdued and quiet mood mean he harbored similar questions regarding his uncle? Or did he expect that Daniels would try again?

  Joe’s helicopter sat unattended in the field beyond the buildings, his answer to Nate’s so-­called high-­tech alarm system. As the bike rumbled to a stop beside the garage, Ty and Joe sauntered from the back door of the house to meet them.

  Alex slid off the bike and whipped off the helmet. The last thing Joe had said to her before she left to find Nate was to stay out of trouble. Of course, that’s not really what he meant. Loosely translated, he didn’t want her to hurt anyone. Joe understood her better than she did herself. The way he seemed to read her mind sometimes creeped her out. He was like an overprotective big brother in many ways, and they’d butted heads on several occasions, but she really did try to stay on his good side. He most definitely wouldn’t be happy about her performance last night. She stepped back, waited for Nate to dismount, and handed him the helmet. A question lingered in his eyes as he took the headgear, brushing her hand.