by Mia Dymond
She took the glass and swallowed the contents quickly and completely. She needed strength – physical, emotional, and liquid – to face her visitor.
Curtis cleared his throat as he took the glass from her. “I left another for you in the back room.”
Sophie smiled a weak smile and walked with him through the gallery and into the back room. As soon as the door snapped shut behind her, she saw him. Oxygen escaped her lungs and the ringing escalated in her ears. Her body tensed and her heart pounded. Fear had nothing on her reaction – joy, relief, and sheer, unadulterated arousal held her body hostage.
Without a second thought, she closed the distance between them and plastered herself against him. Much to her relief, he closed his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head. Against her will, her body began to tremble.
Rebel gave her a tight squeeze before he eased her back from him and then lowered her into a nearby chair.
“Adrenaline’s a bitch.” He reached toward a side table next to him and then handed her a wine glass. “Curtis left this for you.”
She took the offering and again, quickly drained the contents. She handed it back to a wide-eyed Rebel, this time with less shaky hands.
“I notified the Senator,” he said as he returned the glass to the table. “Got my ass handed to me.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him tonight.”
“Yes, we will.”
“We?”
He nodded. “We need to get a few things straight.”
She knew an argument was fruitless so she opted for a change of subject. “Did someone call Robert?”
“The Senator made the call.”
She bit her lip. To use Rebel’s words, Robert probably got his ass handed to him as well. “I should call him.”
“We’re going back to your studio.” He grasped her arm and pulled her to stand. “Call him from the truck.”
In the next several seconds, Rebel watched Sophie’s already dark chocolate gaze deepen even further. Something told him that she had recovered from the earlier ordeal.
“Is it necessary for you to manhandle me?”
“What are you talking about?”
Confusion wrinkled his brow as she captured his gaze with her own and pulled it down to the creamy surface of the skin his fingers currently pressed. A grin tugged at his lips. Her silent tendency to put him in his place made him hard – crazy hard.
Common sense told him she expected him to relinquish his hold and offer an apology but instead, extreme irritation pushed him to issue a direct, honest answer – one that could very well be a big mistake.
He lifted his gaze and with an iron will, forced himself to ignore the temptation in hers. “Yes.”
She raised one fine eyebrow and gave him a look he assumed she meant to be intimidating. Problem was, she looked about as intimidating as a teddy bear.
“You ditched me,” he reminded her.
“Excuse me?”
“We had an agreement. You ditched me.”
“We didn’t have an agreement.” Heat invaded his groin as she peeled each of his fingers from her skin. “You and my father had an agreement. Besides, I didn’t ditch you, I simply left without you.”
“Come on.”
Refusing to be distracted by yet another argument, he replaced his grip and led her – forcefully – back to his SUV. Lucky for her, the only conversation along the way was the phone call between Sophie and Robert. For the first time in a very long time, his anger threatened to overtake his common sense. War was hell, he knew that for a fact, but this mission was damn close to something worse.
He nearly dragged her from his truck when they arrived at her studio, intent on showing her just exactly how dangerous her carelessness had been. When he opened the front door though, even he was taken aback when it smacked the wall.
“Sophie?”
A man he assumed to be Robert, rushed toward them.
“It’s okay, Robert.” Sophie shrugged loose from his grip and gently closed the door. “Hercules doesn’t realize his strength.” She rolled her eyes. “This is Dagan Caldwell. He works for my father.”
Rebel extended a hand, impressed Sophie kept his cover. Robert returned the handshake.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Thank God! When the Senator called, he didn’t have many details. Shall I call Mrs. Wentworth?”
“No need. Curtis called her and arranged for a courier.”
Robert frowned, clearly confused. “The painting wasn’t stolen?”
“No. Fortunately, Curtis and the security guard scared the thief away when they called the police.”
“The police were there?”
“Yes. I got a description this time so maybe they’ll find him.”
“Yes, perhaps they will.”
“I’m going into my office now, Robert. Please hold my calls for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Of course. I’m glad you’re unharmed.”
“Thanks, Robert.”
He followed Sophie into her office and waited until she was seated behind her desk before he propped himself up against the edge right in front of her. Not half an inch separated them and he wasted no time in firing questions at her like bullets.
“Why were you there?”
“To retrieve another DuBois.”
“You bought a painting?”
She nodded. “The owner, Curtis Owen, found the seller for me. I went to pay for the art and take it to an appraiser.”
“I thought we decided you would hire a courier.”
“No time. The art was delivered and I didn’t have time to call someone.”
As bad as he wanted to pause for a reprimand, he didn’t. He was too interested in the facts. “Was the perp in the store with you?”
“If he was, I didn’t see him. He approached me when I left the building.”
He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine. He wanted the painting.”
“Did you see him this time?”
“Plainly.”
“Did he get your package?”
“No. Like I told Robert, Curtis and the security guard scared him away.”
“Where’s the painting?”
“At the gallery. Curtis called the buyer and she was willing to wait until a courier could transport it.”
“Was it damaged?”
“No. The paper on the back was torn in the scuffle but that’s easily replaced.”
Now extremely confused, he frowned. “Son of a –“
Her wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look stopped him short. Something told him that she, too, was severely frustrated by the whole thing.
“Gun,” he finished. “What is so special about these paintings?”
“So, now you believe me that this is all about the art?”
He nodded his agreement and then gave her an explanation she probably didn’t want. “Otherwise, you’d be MIA.” He pointed at the computer. “Can you show me some of the art?”
“Of course.” With shaking fingers, she punched keys on her computer and soon several different images of paintings covered the screen.
He covered his hands with his own. “Sophie, we can do this later.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
Deep admiration for her strength seeped into his heart. Underneath her very soft, very ladylike interior lay a prowling tigress, poised and ready to pounce.
“Henri Dubois is an up and coming contemporary French artist. His work is in high demand.”
“Looks like a gigantic blob to me,” he muttered as he pointed at an image.
“Mr. DuBois is a very respected artist.”
“Explain this to me, Sophie. Why would you hang something like that on your wall when it would be easier – and a helluva lot cheaper – to fling several brushes full of paint against the wall?”
“It’s abstract art. Color and shape repr
esent emotion. The artist forces his audience to use imagination in analyzing the scene.”
“Looks like one big mess to me.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “No, there’s something else about this painting. Our perp doesn’t just respect the talent.”
“Something like what?”
He released a hard breath. “I have no idea.”
“Well, there’s more.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Remember the Dubois painting I signed for yesterday at Beaumont Creations? Mr. Pennington called me today. It was stolen from his house last night.”
He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Things were taking a whole new turn – an extremely dangerous one. True, someone wanted the paintings but the real threat lie in the fact that he was willing to take Sophie out in the process. And, the perp hadn’t given them anything to go on. No leads, no evidence – nothing other than an attempted theft. Ironically, the desert would make it easier to track this fool – or fools.
He lifted his head and then took her hand. The clear look of fear shining in her eyes forced him to be a whole lot more gentle than he felt. “This is serious.”
She nodded. “I’ll put my search on hold.”
“Unfortunately, that won’t stop him.” He rubbed his thumb across her soft knuckles, basking in the warmth of her skin. “It will only make him more desperate.”
“Then we set him up.”
Pride bubbled his gut. She was determined to see this through – even if it meant making herself vulnerable in the process. She was feminine through and through, a tiny, breathtakingly beautiful human being who refused to be bullied by a lunatic. A confident woman, a determined woman, a strong woman. His woman.
“I care about you, Sophie.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Oh, yeah?”
He gave a silent nod, afraid if he said too much more she might just slap him. He kept her hand firmly in his hold, still stroking her skin, refusing to deny himself her touch.
“I care about you too, Rebel,” she said softly.
Although his heart thumped wildly in his chest and pure happiness spurred him to act, he practiced amazing self-control to resist the urge to snap her up out of her chair and pin her to the top of the desk. Desperation would push him to wrap her hair in his fist and pull back her head to expose the creamy skin of her neck. He’d start at the nape, draw his tongue along the surface, and then pull her skin between his teeth and plant tiny love bites up the length of her neck and around the side of her jaw until he reached the back of her ear. There, he would close his lips around the sensitive area in a deep kiss until goosebumps danced under his mouth and a satisfied moan left her lips.
His cock jumped in the confines of his pants, snapping him out of the lustful daydream.
“We need to go see your parents.” He gave her hand one more, tight squeeze and then reluctantly released it.
“I suppose we do.” She stood and followed him around the desk to the door. “Robert can take care of business here. What should I tell him?”
“Absolutely nothing until we talk to the Senator.”
Not too much later, he stood in Senator Graystone’s living room, filling both him and his wife in on the day’s events.
“I’m convinced we have a bigger problem that I originally thought, Sir.”
“Sophie’s life is in danger?”
“Maybe in a roundabout way. Just as she suspected, the paintings seem to be the targets.”
“Well, that somewhat reassures me, but what can we do to be sure?”
“I would recommend an escort.”
“Are you agreeable, Sophie?”
“Yes, this time I am. My reputation demands it.”
“Speaking of your reputation, I think we need to go a step further. I’ll have my secretary prepare a press release of your engagement.”
Sophie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What? No! I don’t think we need to go that far, Dad.”
He stole a glance at Mrs. Graystone, who appeared just as shocked. Only, not surprisingly shocked, simply surprised. Something told him mom knew more than all of them.
“On the contrary, I do,” the Senator insisted. “How else are we going to explain Rebel’s appearance? If we divulge the need for a bodyguard, we have no chance of catching the culprit.”
“Your father’s right,” Rebel said softly. “It’s a viable explanation.”
“You’re willing to go along? What about your reputation?”
He shrugged. Little did she know that his reputation would only flourish with their engagement. “I’ll survive.”
“Well, then.” She folded her arms across her chest and gave her breasts an eye-catching bounce. “Perhaps you should propose.”
Sophie stood morbidly still, shocked when Rebel accepted her challenge. The man took duty to a whole new level.
He knelt in front of her and took her left hand. Before she had time to truly process the situation, he slid a sparkling diamond onto her ring finger. Somewhere in the haze of shock, she heard her mother gasp.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Marry me, Sophie.”
Still somewhat dazed, she couldn’t make her lips move. He stood with her hand now firmly tucked in his.
“Yes,” he said as he ran a hand down the side of her face.
Question marks assaulted her brain as his fingers caressed her skin. This was all an act, right? The engagement wouldn’t be real and they wouldn’t marry when the investigation was over. But what a lucky, lucky woman she was to get to pretend. To share every moment of the next who-knew-how-long with this strong, sexy man with a heart of gold. She’d be a fool to turn him down.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” He stepped forward and placed a soft, gentle kiss on her lips.
The moment his lips touched hers, Sophie draped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close to her. Her breasts tightened against his solid chest as their lips moved in a rhythmic dance – one that she had no intention of ending until somewhere in the fog of desire she heard her mother clear her throat.
Reluctantly, she lifted her lips and then nodded at the diamond now solidly on her finger. “How did you know you’d need this?”
“I told you. I’m trained to know.”
The Senator followed his wife’s lead and also cleared his throat. “Yes, now that the arrangement is settled, maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”
“Yes, sir,” Rebel told him. “You have my word on it.”
“Perhaps Carley could arrange a party tomorrow night.” Sophie caught the twinkle in her mother’s eye as she made the suggestion.
“Tomorrow night?” Sophie frowned. “That’s not much notice.”
Alana nodded. “She’s a professional. It won’t be any big deal.”
“We’ll leave you two to talk particulars.” The Senator draped an arm around his wife and steered her from the room. “We’ll follow your lead.”
Sophie watched her parents leave the room, still in shock at how fast a plan had been formulated. Clearly, her father was involved in a whole lot more than she thought.
Rebel took her hand once again. “Are you sure you’re alright with all of this?”
“Of course.” She knew for a fact she was more than comfortable with the arrangement. But was he? She almost hated to ask. “Are you?”
“One hundred percent.” He moved a hand gently down the side of her face. “I need to brief my team. Would you like me to take you home?”
“Please. Will I see you later tonight?”
“I’m moving in, remember?” His grin reminded her of the cat that ate the canary.
She groaned. “Am I going to regret this?”
“Not for a minute,” he told her as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “I promise, you won’t have any regrets.”
***
The heavy thud of combat boots slamming tile echoed off the wall
s of the Alpha Four office as Rebel marched double time into the briefing room and made the announcement he knew his teammates did not expect.
“I’m getting married.” He moved his gaze around the table and onto each soldier seated there. “Get a tux.”
Obviously stunned, each man sat silent, eyebrows raised or jaw gaped. The large clock in the corner of the room ticked in the silence, counting down seconds of disbelief.
“Somebody say something,” he said finally.
Thunder followed directions. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I told you, I’m getting married.”
“Answer the question, Rebel.”
He heaved a heavy sigh and took an empty chair. “Sophie was confronted again this morning.”
“Is she hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.” Thunder nodded slowly. “And you were there to stop it.”
“No.”
Although the naked eye might have missed it, the Captain’s upper lip twitched. He, however, saw it plain as day and braced himself for the barking reprimand that would invariably come next.
Instead, the annoying clock kept on ticking in the unexpected silence. He stole a glance at the other two men, apparently still dazed into non-reaction. So much for back-up.
“Where exactly were you?” Thunder asked finally.
“Checking a lead,” he mumbled.
“You left her alone?”
He swallowed hard, hesitant to say more. Even he knew the explanation was weak. “She promised to call when she intended to go out.”
Chaos shot him a wide grin. “You are one whooped pup.”
“Yes, I am,” he answered honestly, “but that doesn’t change what happened.”
Thunder leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “Fill us in.”
Relieved to talk business, he relayed the details while anger escalated his heartbeat.
“Did she see him this time?”
He reached into his pocket and then slid Sophie’s written description across the table to Thunder. The other man read the paragraph and then looked up and tilted his head to one side.