by Robena Grant
“Here’s the plan,” he said, close to her ear. “There’s a back gate on the patio that leads out to the parking lot.” He looked back over at the table where the four guys had sat. A busboy was stripping it. “Damn.”
“What?”
“They’ve gone.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Debbie held onto his hand and hurried to keep up with him. The exterior of the restaurant gleamed with soft light but the night had turned dark. Across the parking lot he saw Trigger slide into the passenger seat of a dark colored Mercedes sports car. At the same time an equally dark BMW’s headlights came on next to it. Jack held Debbie back, and eased her into the shadows on the walkway. He sat on the edge of a concrete garden wall, his back to the cars, and had her face the parking lot.
“Act natural,” he whispered. “Act like we’re on a date.”
“A hot date?” she asked, and raised a brow. She stepped between his outstretched legs and leaned in toward him. He almost slid off the low wall. He hadn’t meant that natural.
“Keep your eyes open,” he said, closing his own for a second, and trying to stop the buzz in his head. She stood close, her cheek against his, her breath soft and warm on his ear.
He took a hard swallow, and continued. “If you can make out any of the numbers or letters on the plates, repeat them. I’ve got the make and colors of both cars firmly in my mind.”
She pulled away from him a few inches and smiled. Her heart pounded, he’d felt it when she’d pressed against him, and he knew she must be as nervous as hell, and that endeared her to him even more. She was a good sport, playing along, following orders. Solving this case was primary for him, but what about her?
She watched him with those big gray eyes.
“Anything going on?” he asked.
She looked out into the parking lot, shook her head. Joining forces might not be the worst thing that could happen. But if he had to use Janelle to get information on Trigger, would he go over Debbie’s head? He pushed away the thoughts. He was making no promises that he couldn’t keep. There’d be time for decisions later.
“Tell me when the cars turn into the exit road,” he said. His hands were around her small waist, his mouth only inches from hers. “We’ll need to hurry and tail them. But we’ll let them get to the exit of the parking lot before we make a move. I don’t want them to suspect they’re being followed.”
She nodded, then shuddered slightly and he pulled her a few inches closer.
The jazz singer upstairs belted out a tune about love, in a hot molten voice, and Jack felt his body awaken. When he eased her back from his chest and looked into her eyes, they were half-closed and her mouth was slightly open. Then without any pre-conceived plan, because he knew to kiss her would only lead to trouble big-time, he pressed his mouth to hers, and sank into that wet, warm, softness of her beautiful mouth.
He’d meant to keep it soft, quick, but she opened to him and he tasted her sweetness. He knew it was all over for him then. He was a captive. He teased her mouth with his tongue and touched hers, and together they danced, their tongues making love, their breath coming fast.
A tiny shudder of sheer joy passed through him, and he knew if he opened his eyes, his whole life would be spinning out of control.
****
Debbie responded to the pressure of Jack’s lips on hers, and forgot everything she’d ever believed about guys—dangerous guys—and her plans for being aloof and in control.
Oh my god, what a good kisser.
He deepened the kiss, and her mouth softened, like her entire body did, and she moved closer as pliant as well-worked putty. He explored her mouth with his tongue, traced her lips, and ran one hand up the nape of her neck and massaged the back of her head with strong fingertips. Definitely the best kisser, ever, and he seemed to know the exact pressure she liked. Even if he was playing, using her as a cover to catch some bad guys, she didn’t care. And she willingly gave up her lips for more of the same.
Coming out of the haze and the heat and the moisture of his latest assault on her mouth, her pulse raced, and for a moment or two she felt woozy. She blinked hard. Had she closed her eyes? He’d said keep them open. How long had they been here, making out like teenagers? She pulled away from him, despite her desire to remain exactly where she was for the rest of her life. She looked over his shoulder, and scanned the parking lot.
Oh, no! She’d fallen down on the job.
He’d trusted her and she’d let the bad guys get away. Panic swept through her and her lungs constricted. She pushed both hands against his chest and struggled to get free. Oh hell, what was that? Was he wearing a gun in a shoulder holster? A tickle in the back of her throat caused her to cough. She needed to take a couple of really deep breaths, and she couldn’t do that while he was holding her so tight.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his hot breath fanning the side of her neck and tickling her ear lobe.
She swallowed hard as lust and fear collided. She sent a silent plea to the universe: Please, don’t let me have an asthma attack. Her heart pounded, and her saliva dried up. She cleared her throat and tried to speak but her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. At least she wasn’t wheezing. “I think we’ve lost them.”
“It’s only been a second or two,” he said lazily, and cupped the back of her head. He pulled her even closer.
“Stop it,” she said, and thumped his arm.
What is it with men? You kiss them once and they forget everything. She looked around wildly. Someone needed to keep their wits about them, and obviously it wouldn’t be Jack. They had to find out where the men were going. Find out who Trigger is, and what he might be up to with a boyfriend, although she was pretty sure she knew. And yet, he spent a lot of time trying to charm Janelle into a dinner date. She rubbed her lips together and tasted the kisses that still lingered.
“No more kissing,” she said, and gave Jack’s chest another shove with the flat of her palm. That sure as hell was a gun in there. “We have to concentrate.”
“Sure. Sure thing,” he said, and then touched her forehead with his and eased back a bit. He smiled softly, turned, and scanned the parked cars. “Give them time. See, the Beamer’s lights are sweeping down that inner lane, and the Mercedes has backed out.”
“Oh, good,” Debbie said. She straightened and patted at her hair and felt the calming of her heartbeat. She’d thought they’d been kissing for ages. So, she’d overreacted a little. No big deal. “Tell me when to move.”
“Not yet,” he murmured. “Put your arms around me again, and hold tight. I don’t want them to catch sight of your blond hair. The cars will have to come out this way and the headlights will swing toward us as they make the turn.”
Debbie did as he said, but this time she stepped to one side of his legs, instead of between them. What the hell had gotten into her earlier? As a rule she was not that type, not ever forward, or sexually aggressive. Well, not in the last twenty years. She never did the asking. But there was something about Jack, well heck, she could ask, and maybe she could even beg.
She leaned in, burrowed deep into the warmth of his open jacket, pressed her nose into his T-shirt and savored the scent of him. She stroked his well-muscled back, and while she longed to feel that warm skin beneath, she kept her hands safely above the T-shirt. A quiver of his muscles gave her a rush. Inside her belly, it felt like warm liquid had spilled, spreading throughout. She smiled into the darkness of his chest. Such power, and to think she’d done that. She’d caused that tremor in this big man.
She inhaled deeply. Oh, man, if this is undercover work, bring it on.
“Can you see the sweep of light?”
She refocused her crazy thoughts and popped her head up, enough to peer over his shoulder and make certain. “Yes,” she whispered. Okay, she was fine now. She was back on the job.
“The second set of headlights?”
“Yes.” His thigh pressed against her leg. She was aware of his response to he
r, the hard heat of him through his jeans, and wanted to move closer. Anymore of this body-to-body action and she’d be having an orgasm a few yards away from the restaurant. She grinned. The gay guys wouldn’t mind. In fact, they’d probably come out and cheer her on.
Debbie caught a few letters on the Beamer license plate, said those out loud, and focused on the Mercedes. It had a personalized plate, and she quickly relayed that information.
“Excellent.” Jack repeated what she’d discovered then eased back, reached for her purse and shoved it into her hands. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
With that he took off at a jog, at first holding her hand. Then he released his grip and dropped it, and jogged harder. He jumped into his car and started the engine, all before she’d reached the passenger door. Feeling the loss of heat and connection, Debbie stumbled after him, finding it hard to run in high-heeled boots. She opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. So much for romance; he obviously got chummy only when he needed a cover.
“Buckle up, we’re on our way.”
She almost saluted. “Yes, sir,” she muttered, and felt her chest tighten and a tiny wheeze start up. She inhaled slowly, deeply again, to make sure.
Oh yeah, the asthma wheeze was there. One make-out session and she’d returned to high school days worrying about where this night would end, and wondering if the relationship would last, or if she’d get hurt, or if it would last forever and fill that gaping hole in her heart. She’d never understood men and relationships, and probably wasn’t about to begin learning now. Damn. She took another deep breath, and blew it out through her open mouth.
Jack swung his gaze toward her, and then back to the road ahead. Had he heard her wheezing? Or had she cussed out loud? Then she remembered Janelle. She’d save her comments for another time. Jack’s focus was on the job, and rightly so.
Romance could wait.
****
Jack relaxed once the two cars were in his sight. If wherever they were going to didn’t have a security gate, he’d easily be able to follow them inside. And knowing the make and model of the cars, he’d get the numbers once they left the vehicles.
It seemed every private home down here had high fences and electric gates, or the residences were within developments that had a gate-guarded entry. If there was security, and they were close enough to see the cars, he could use his telephoto lens. A lot had to factor into that equation though, like lights, safety, and security guards.
Guard dogs. He shuddered at the memory of the last trio of angry Doberman’s that he’d managed to escape from. He wouldn’t take any risks with Debbie in the car. But he owed Juan. He owed him big time. He reached over and squeezed Debbie’s knee. “That’s them, up ahead.”
She nodded, but remained quiet.
The soft feel of her skin, the taste of her kiss, her scent, lingered in his memory and on his mouth. He tried to push the thoughts of her away. He couldn’t start anything with Debbie, unless he confided his background and real name. He had to be honest, and fair. He shifted in the seat aware that every time he touched her his body reacted. Better keep his hands off her. If he got out of the car and had the chance to shadow any of the guys, or had to make a run for it, he sure as hell wanted blood in his head helping him to think clearly, and not pooling in his groin.
Headlights zoomed up behind them and a large vehicle sat on their tail. Jack tapped his brake. The SUV pulled closer. Jack swerved. The SUV sat tight, and the driver had something in one hand, aimed at them. A glint of metal, and Jack reacted from years of being in similar circumstances. He reached over and pulled Debbie down so her head almost smacked his side.
“What’s happening?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“Watch out for the gearshift, stay low. Someone’s on our ass. They could have a gun.”
“A gun? Why would they—?”
“Shut up, and stay low.” He accelerated, and swung the car into the left lane. The SUV stuck with him. “Shit.”
A concrete island filled with rocks, shrubs and the occasional date palm, divided the highway on one side, and palm trees and gardens lined the other. The island separating the road was raised at least a foot. Even if his car could cross the median, he’d probably hit a palm tree.
The SUV pulled alongside of them again, bumping them slightly. Jack held his breath. He couldn’t see the hand that he was sure had held a gun. They were sitting ducks if the guy decided to fire. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, and reached for his holster with the other. The SUV bumped them again, and the driver leered back at him, his pale face and a shock of white hair visible for a second. There was a passenger, small, possibly female, Jack couldn’t quite tell. His cell phone rang, but he ignored it.
“Stay down,” he yelled at Debbie. And seeing the empty parking lot for a large shopping mall off to his right, lifted his foot from the accelerator and dropped back a few yards from the SUV. “Protect your head. This could get ugly.”
The SUV started to slow. Jack floored the accelerator and pulled ahead, swerving in front of the SUV and forcing his car up and over the curb. The car jolted across the flower bed, hit a drainage ditch in a deserted department store parking lot, and shuddered to a halt. He’d barely missed a concrete pillar that housed a lighting fixture. The air bag deployed.
“Jeez, you okay, Deb?” he asked coughing at the dry powder.
“I’m…yes…sure.”
Her muffled voice had him giving silent thanks. He pulled on the handbrake and recalled you were supposed to turn off the engine, so he did that. Good. That was good. They were both alive and the car might be okay. Still able to be driven, he hoped. No way in hell he’d involve cops and a tow truck, not if he could help it.
“Can you get out?” he asked.
“Sure. My airbag is intact.”
Well, that was a plus. He’d experienced deployed airbags before, but this wasn’t even a minor fender bender. It must have been caused by the fact that he’d been airborne for a few seconds then come down to land in the ditch with a thump. His boss would be pissed. This would cost upwards of $3,000 to fix.
He heard Debbie’s door open and close, and pushed the now deflated airbag away from his chest. The gas and powdery substance it had emitted caused another tingle in his nose. Rubbing at his chest, he climbed out of the car, leaned forward, coughed a few times to clear his lungs, and then took in some deep breaths. Debbie had run around to his door.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, and looked worried, or worried and half-dazed.
“The seatbelt pulled a bit tight, but otherwise I’m intact.” His ribs hurt like hell, but he’d survive. “You’d better get over there, behind that tree, and sit. They might come back.”
He removed his gun from the holster and ran up to the dark almost empty highway. The SUV was nowhere to be seen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell had that been about? He took a couple of deep breaths and hurried back to Debbie. Her entire body trembled. He shook too, an adrenaline rush that his body was used to, but he knew it would pass soon enough. She would take longer to calm down. “It’s safe. You can get up now,” he said, and offered a hand.
“Did he have a gun?”
He pulled her up and to him, and noticed the raw naked fear in her eyes as she stared at his gun. He quickly holstered it. “Not sure.” He held her to his chest and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Could have been drunk. Or some asshole in a hurry. Maybe I’d cut him off and he was trying to scare us. Road rage. It’s an epidemic.”
“We lost Trigger,” she said softly.
“Yeah. Are you going to be okay now?” he asked, and rubbed her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?” She nodded and he hurried her back to the car. “Hang on a minute. I need to check for damage.”
He walked around the car, got down on his hands and knees and shone a flashlight underneath. Nothing hung loose, no sign of liquid dripping onto the asphalt. He guessed they’d lucked out. Driving the car could be risky, without getting it
checked out first, but he and Juan had driven automobiles in Colombia and Mexico that had been in far worse shape than this one.
“You can get in. It should be okay,” he said, and rubbed his dirty hands on the seat of his jeans. He slid into the driver’s seat, and took the bottle of water out of the holder. “I already drank from this bottle earlier. But, if you need a sip.”
“Yes, I’d love some.” She grabbed the bottle and took a quick drink before handing it back to him.
He took a few long drinks. For some reason that action, taking a drink of water, always calmed and centered him. “I’ll continue for a couple more miles. We might catch up with Trigger. If not, we’ll call it a night.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “We were so close.”
“It’s okay. There’s always tomorrow.”
He patted her knee again, and realized he’d done that several times tonight. He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her, or reassuring himself that she was still with him. He’d sure liked having her head in his lap. His thoughts started to skitter into a direction they shouldn’t. He clamped down on his jaw. Concentrate on the freakin’ job. He shoved the airbag away but it kept hitting his thigh. No problem. He could still drive.
Debbie’s cell phone rang bringing them back to the reality of the situation. She rummaged through her purse to find the phone. The crazy white-haired man’s sneer flashed before Jack’s face again. He had to have been in his late fifties or early sixties. He’d been furious. Could it have been road rage, or a warning? He’d never seen the guy before, so maybe there was no threat. Or, was it Debbie he’d been after?
“Hi Dave, we’re in the car,” Debbie said. “Yes, he can talk.”