VIP Protector

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VIP Protector Page 17

by Patricia Rosemoor


  He'd climbed the first of four levels when the man above stopped and picked up a barbeque grill someone had left on a landing. Blade couldn't get out of the way quickly enough to avoid the ash raining down on him. Eyes and nose stinging, he held his breath and pressed himself against the building as the metal grill clanged along the metal fire escape and then bounced off his shoulder.

  Cursing, gritty eyes and all, he took the next set of stairs. Above him, Lynn's attacker had reached the top landing and was now using the narrow ladder attached to the building to get to the roof. A few seconds after he disappeared from view, two shots rang out into the night and from somewhere below, worried voices responded.

  Ignoring anything but getting to the bastard before he hurt someone else, Blade

  forced himself to climb faster, but by the time he got all the way up, the other man was nowhere to be seen.

  The roof door...

  Sure enough those shots had shattered the lock. Blade threw open the door and faced a dark deeper and more dangerous than the night surrounding him.

  Without hesitating, he plunged inside.

  He stood in the dark allowing his senses to adjust. A whir and clunk told him the elevator was in operation. A faint haze of light helped him locate the stairs, but still he descended more by instinct than by being able to see until he got down to three, where light shone from a curtained window down the hall.

  This old dusty building was a lair, a maze filled with odd shops and artists' studios. Cheap rent, cheap landlord. He doubted much was up to code.

  The elevator itself was old and slow, while he was young and quick. By the time he touched down on the second floor, he was even with the metallic groans. And he got to the ground floor and shot down the hall even as the doors started to open.

  Ready to go for his knife, Blade froze when he realized the lone occupant was a woman with a pierced eyebrow, nose ring and tattoos down both arms... undoubtedly a commercial tenant, who seemed as shocked to see him at this late hour as he was to see her.

  Though he immediately backed off, she scurried out of the elevator toward the street door.

  Leaving him wondering where the hell in this rabbit warren the viper might be hiding.

  ***

  When they all gathered in Gideon's office, Blade tightly said, “It's time for you to disappear, Lynn.”

  Aghast at his suggestion, her eyes widened. “I already did disappear.”

  “For real,” Blade added. “This time leaving no trace. And you can't come back until we nail this bastard.”

  “I have to agree,” Gideon said. Your attacker figured out he could find you here—”

  “But how?” Lynn asked.

  “And he penetrated your disguise.”

  “You're not safe here anymore,” Cass agreed.

  “You're not safe with me.”

  The last came from Blade. He wanted to send her away, Lynn realized, her horror growing. And just when she was beginning to realize her true depth of feeling for him.

  Before she could think of a convincing argument, Logan entered the office followed by Stella Jacobek.

  The detective wanted the whole story... every detail... from the start of the evening on.

  Lynn sat silently as Blade took over, giving his friend the skinny, ending with, “We could have searched the whole building for the bastard, but it probably would have been a waste of our time. For all I know, he could have fooled me, could have still been on the roof and once I went inside, he could have used the fire escape to get away.”

  Stella shook her head at him. “Guard Lynn, that's what you were supposed to do.”

  “I know I let you down.”

  “You went too far!” Stella looked around the room. “You're all in on this, aren't you? Some kind of a conspiracy. Why didn't I see this before?”

  “You didn't want to see,” Blade said. “You don't have to see now.”

  He was talking in a code that Stella understood if her expression was any indication, Lynn thought, even as she said, “Everyone here was simply trying to protect me.” And she didn't want to bring them trouble.

  Stella narrowed her gaze on Blade. “I thought it was odd, you’re coming to me and volunteering to play bodyguard.”

  A statement that stunned Lynn, who'd thought all along that Stella had asked Blade for his help.

  “Don't read anything into it.”

  But Stella obviously was. She looked from one to the other of them. “Ex-military man. Ex-cop. Ex-jailbird.”

  “Hey!” Cass piped up.

  “I thought that was a bit softer than ex-con.” Stella then narrowed her gaze at Gideon. “What about you? Who are you really?”

  Gideon kept his gaze steady when he said, “What you see is what you get. I own this club.”

  “And run this operation?”

  No one answered until Lynn said, “Stella, you have to keep these speculations to yourself.”

  “Do I?”

  “Please,” Lynn pleaded. “You brought me here so that I would be safe. And I would have been if I hadn't insisted on recording the suspects. So it was my own fault. And if you hadn't brought me somewhere I felt safe to start, I would have run. Well, I'm not running now. And everyone here is on our side. Yours and mine.”

  Her speech registered with the detective. Lynn could see it in Stella's expression.

  “I wouldn't be opposed to keeping what I know about this operation to myself,” Stella said, “but I'm not comfortable doing that if you're going to take these ridiculous chances with your life. And I don't only mean Lynn.” She peered around the room, touching each of them with her steady gaze. “I mean all of you.”

  The men in the room sat silent and looking testy. Cass wore a knowing expression, but Lynn didn't know what to think. To her, it sounded like the game might be over.

  “You won't tell,” Cass suddenly said to Stella.

  “Don't be too sure of yourself.”

  “I am sure. I know. You wouldn't betray us like that. You only wish you'd had people like us to turn to when you needed help.”

  All ears in the room seemed to perk up at that statement and Lynn swore that the good detective blanched. Cass had hit a nerve. A lucky guess?

  Or was her ability to know things about people real?

  “What's that?” Blade asked. “Stella...?”

  “All right! I won't say anything to anyone,” she hastily agreed. “At least not yet.”

  “Not ever,” Cass said, her voice practically mesmerizing. “Because you wouldn't want to punish any of us for helping others who have nowhere else to turn. Not when you know what that's like.”

  The room seemed to hold its breath even as did the detective herself. Lynn knew that somehow, this was a defining moment for the survival of Team Undercover.

  Finally, Stella gave them a sharp nod in agreement. “Just promise me you'll leave it alone from here on in. Leave the detective work to me.”

  No one said a word.

  Stella lifted her chin. “Great, it's all settled then.”

  Perhaps for the detective, who was obviously feeling cornered and wanting to be off the hook and so reading into their silence what made her most comfortable, Lynn thought. But nothing was settled for her. They might all want her out of harm's way, but she wasn't planning on going anywhere at the moment but home with Blade.

  Thankfully, Stella took the stuffing out of them all—or perhaps she'd banded them together more tightly—for when Lynn asked to go home, no one argued with her.

  At least not until she and Blade were settled in the Jeep and heading down Milwaukee Avenue.

  “Maybe tonight would be a good night for that hotel you wanted to find,” he suggested.

  “And maybe not.”

  “I'm looking out for your best interests.”

  “Are you sure it's not your best interests?” she countered, thinking this was as much about him as it was about her. Or was it about them.

  “Don't fight me on this,
Lynn.”

  “Don't tell me what to do!”

  “It's for your own good!”

  How many times had she heard those exact words growing up? she wondered as he parked the car behind his building. Her father had constantly told her and her sisters and their mother that very same thing. It didn't matter that this could be a case of life and death for her. That Blade had real cause for his trying to get her to listen to what he considered reason. The sting didn't feel any less intense.

  She waited until she'd climbed the stairs and was nearly out of breath before she said, “I hate this.” Turning her back on him, she jammed her key in the door lock.

  “I know you hate it, Lynn. That's why I'm trying to give you options.”

  “I'm not talking about living here or even about my being a victim of violence.” She threw open the door and stepped inside, knowing Blade was right behind her. She spun

  around to face him directly. “I'm talking about being a victim of you.”

  How could this have happened to her? she wondered as he closed and locked the door behind him. After swearing she would never emulate her mother, swearing she would never get into a relationship with a controlling man, how could she have fallen in love with Blade Stone?

  “Victim of me?” he asked, both expression and tone astounded. “I only want you to be safe.”

  “You want to send me away!”

  That was the real problem, Lynn realized. Finally, she was ready to admit that she was madly in love with him. Why else would she be experiencing such separation anxiety? But Blade couldn't decide how he felt about her, so rather than resolve that, he was rejecting her by doing the very thing that would drive her away.

  Though he said, “What I want doesn't count if it interferes with your safety.”

  “What is that really?” she asked.

  “To protect you.”

  She ignored the warning shiver the word protect sent up her spine and told herself that she was being overly sensitive to something natural and normal, if one person cared about another. More than once, he'd said he cared... but how much?

  “And that's it?” she asked softly. “You don't want anything else? If you do, tell me, Blade, before the opportunity passes. Before it's too late. Or am I being foolish in thinking you might want more even as I do?”

  With the groan of a man defeated by his own emotions, Blade said, “I want you.”

  Their gazes locked and Lynn's heart hammered so hard that her chest hurt. This was it. Forget danger and safety and arguments that no one could win. This was the moment. The possibility for a future together.

  “Then have me,” she offered softly.

  Warmth flushed through her and for a tiny second, she didn't think he was going to take her up on her challenge. And then he stepped toward her and she practically melted against him so that she imagined his heart beat in sync with her own so that she felt as if their two hearts were beating as one.

  Then Blade was kissing her, dancing her backward toward the couch. Her thighs banged up against the arm and he kept pushing, so that she fell over it and he came down with her. But as he had done before, he threw out an arm and braced his weight over her so that he didn't crush her.

  So that he didn't hurt her, she thought.

  Blade would never do anything to hurt her.

  His protecting her started to sound good. Right.

  He dipped his head and nuzzled her breasts. Liquid heat spread through her as fast as the wildfires out west.

  But with Blade, she was safe, Lynn thought hazily. Real fires wouldn't get her. A crazed stalker wouldn't get her. Only he would get her, and she wanted that more than anything.

  He caught the lower edge of her top with his teeth and pulled it upward so slowly that she couldn't stand the wait. She reached down and tugged it up over her head, and while her hands were busy, he nipped at her through her bra, then used his tongue to lave a wet trail down her stomach. Her flesh responded and her hips rose to meet his mouth. He bit into her trousers and tried to drag them down, then gave up, backed off the couch and used his hands to remove them.

  A moment later she lay there nude, legs still hooked over the arm of the couch, like a wanton.

  Blade reached down and slid her toward him, so that her hips were raised and her thighs fell open. He kissed a trail downward from her navel to her exposed center that pooled with thick juices that he drank in.

  Lynn gasped and arched as his tongue slid inside her and probed her soft depths. She spread herself wider, she reached out for him, wanted to touch him, to give him pleasure in return, but she could only finger his hair. She removed the leather wrap that secured his hair and released it so a thick curtain fell over his shoulders and back.

  He slid up and kissed her again and again, his hair tenting their faces, his leather pouch puddling against her throat. Pulling the pouch's thong over his head and dropping it to the floor, she tangled her fingers in his dark, shiny strands of hair and gave him her heart through her lips.

  Then he broke the kiss and nipped her bottom lip and when she made a small pleasurable sound deep at the back of her throat, she felt him smile against her mouth. He then traded her mouth for her neck, neck for her breasts, breasts for her belly. Sliding both arms between her thighs, he opened her and once more feasted on her sensitive flesh.

  Her pleasure grew and expanded and she needed more and she needed him.

  Just as she thought she couldn't stand the spiraling sensations, he lifted his head and pulled her closer until the tip of his erection pressed against her entrance. She let him in and he pushed inside her along the smooth, wet trail he'd created for himself. When all of him was in her, she cried out and arched higher, and he began a slow, torturous movement deep inside her.

  “Please,” she gasped as the pleasure-pressure built, “please.”

  In answer, he slipped his hand between them and found her swollen and ultra-sensitive. A few long, lingering strokes along her trigger set wave after wave of pleasure shuddering through her.

  Then Blade stroked her inside with himself, going hard and deep and fast. Even as she shattered inside, he, too, cried out and she felt him shudder within her.

  This time when he fell to the couch, he didn't hold himself back. He was in her, on her, limbs tangled with hers.

  “I love you,” she whispered, holding him close.

  At last they were one.

  ***

  The phone pulled Lynn up from a deep sleep. Still tangled with Blade although now in his bed, she reluctantly pushed herself up and away from him, taking a moment to memorize every inch of his beautiful flesh before getting out of bed.

  The phone was insistent.

  Dragging a sheet to wrap around herself, she grabbed the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Lynn? It's Logan.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I sent the audio from last night to my friend in the lab first thing this morning. He's already analyzed Churchill and Rincon's voices.”

  Her voice tightened. “And?”

  “And they're both eliminated.”

  “What?”

  “Neither one matches the speech patterns of your abductor. That leaves—”

  “Timothy Cooper,” she finished, remembering his result had been neutral because she hadn't gotten him to talk enough. “Thanks, Logan. Later.”

  She felt Blade's breath on her hair before he asked, “What's this about Timothy Cooper?”

  He nuzzled the back of her neck, shooting a renewed desire through her. She arched back and his hands found her breasts, thumbs lightly thrumming her nipples, creating more waves of pleasure.

  “Process of elimination says he's the one,” she choked out, turning turned in his arms and moaning when she realized he was still stark naked, his long dark hair framing his face and shoulders. “Logan already had the audio from last night analyzed.”

  “So it wasn't Johnny?”

  She shook her head. “Nor Churchill.”

>   “Stella will want to know. I should call her right away,” he said, though he made no move to do so.

  “Tell her to take a real close look at Timothy Cooper. He's the one.”

  “I'll call her right away. As soon as we...”

  He dipped his head as if to kiss her, but she averted him, laughing. “Make that call.”

  Grumbling, he did as she demanded, while she stepped into the bathroom for a fast shower. Afterward, realizing he was still on the phone with Stella, she went into her quarters, where she pulled on a comfortable pair of trousers and a top from her own wardrobe.

  Then she began to gather the clothes they'd so carelessly discarded the night before. Her foot kicked something soft that scooted across the floor. His leather pouch. The impact had loosened the drawstring and its mouth had opened.

  Damn!

  She stooped to gather up the spilled contents, a couple of smooth stones and a yellowed newspaper clipping.

  The word Dead caught her eye, and curious, she unfolded the clipping to see the whole headline Dead Woman Slain accompanied by a photograph.

  Lynn felt as if her heart had stopped. The photograph was of her sister Lorraine, lying face down in the street.

  Dead...

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lynn was still staring at the clipping when she sensed Blade behind her.

  “I just got off the phone with Stella.”

  Whipping around, she waved the clipping under his nose. “I don't understand. Why do you have this?”

  He blanched and swore softly and Lynn was feeling sick inside and she didn't even know why. Blade seemed to pull into himself. One minute he was hers—all sexy smiles and playful hands—the next he was a stranger.

  “Why?” she demanded again, her voice a choked whisper.

  He was wearing nothing but briefs and she had to force herself to keep her gaze locked with his. For a moment, she thought perhaps the only way to get him to answer was to beat it out of him, but then he shook his head and sat on the arm of the couch where they'd made love the night before.

 

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