Abducted: Reconnaissance Team (Texas Rangers: Special Ops Book 1) (14 page)

He stared as if not understanding.

“Too cliché?” she asked. “What do you call it?” 

“You'll agree to protective custody, but won't stay here? Why?” 

“Because I won't involve your father and his men. Don't argue,” she said.

“We'll get him, Liz.” 

She nodded. “I have no doubt you will. But you're assigning officers to me anyway. Much as I hate putting them in danger, I understand that's their job. I simply won't agree to involve anyone else.” 

Ben grasped her hand. “Give me a couple days. The Feds are putting together an operation. This could be over fast.” 

“We need it to be over fast, and since Mr. Sanchez doesn't yet know where you are, it's better I'm tucked away somewhere before he discovers your identity and tracks you here to the ranch. Once you go to Mexico, he'll know who you are and he's sure to send someone to the ranch looking for me. Not to mention, it's very possible he'll find out who you are before you return from Mexico. One way or the other, once he discovers your identity, this will be the first place he looks.” 

For an instant it seemed he would argue, then he released her hand and nodded. “All right.”

She released a breath. “I'll need to fill Richard in as much as I can. I'll need my laptop and things from the hotel.” 

A gentle smile softened his face. “This has been an eventful twenty-four hours. Call Anderson and I’ll make a few calls of my own. Then we’ll have a drink. That’ll make you feel better.”

She doubted that. She wasn't going to feel better until the Remmeys’ granddaughter and Ben were safely back home…and Carlos Sanchez was behind bars.

“Stop worrying,” Liz ordered Richard. The door opened and she looked up from the notes she'd made to watch Ben enter the den. “Catch your flight to Dallas,” she told Richard. “I'll be all right.” 

“You’re to do everything the police say,” Richard said. “You got that?” 

“I’m not arguing,” she replied.

Ben lifted a brow as he sat on the couch beside her and she wanted to throttle him. He would pick this moment to return.

“I know how you can be,” Richard said.

“Hold on,” she began.

“No,” he cut her off. “I've already spoken with Nina.”

Liz groaned inwardly. She'd hoped to talk to her before Richard did.

“She agrees. We can handle everything until this is taken care of.” 

“There's no telling how long this will go on,” Liz said. “I can work remotely, so there's no need to worry.” 

“You're due some time off,” he said.

“Time off?” She caught the look of interest on Ben's face. “That's ridiculous,” she said. “We're in the middle of preparing the fall line and Mrs. Remmey introduced me to—” 

“We're well aware of the situation,” he interrupted. “The fall collection’s progressing smoothly, and Brenda and I will handle
LaRouche
.” 

Liz's heart sped up. “Brenda's great, but she doesn't have the experience to handle a client like
LaRouche
. Not to mention, they're expecting the Creative Director, not the Head Designer. We can't take a chance that they think this problem will get in the way of our ability to deliver.”  

“That's right,” he agreed. “Which is why I’ll be working closely on the project with her.” Liz’s heart fell, but before she could say any more, he added in a gentle tone, “This is a temporary solution, Liz. I know how much
LaRouche
means to you. We're not cutting you out.” 

Her heart constricted. “Of course not.” 

“No one here could live with the knowledge that work jeopardized your life. You understand, right?” 

“Of course,” she answered.

“Look,” he said, “we likely won't meet with
LaRouche
for a month. I'll talk to the authorities. If they think that this Sanchez lacks the resources to track you remotely, I'll talk to Nina about allowing you to access the files online. You can review everything, give your okay just like you would if you were here. Let's hope that by the time we meet with
LaRouche
, this'll be tied up.” 

She looked at Ben and started to say
'things better be tied up by then'
but realized the mistake. He didn't need any more guilt. Pressuring him to resolve the case quickly could lead to carelessness—or desperation. They’d been lucky once. She wouldn’t risk his life a second time.  

“You're right,” she said. “We can't take a chance on any snags with
LaRouche
. If everyone feels it's safe, I'll contribute plenty from here.” She smiled as much for Ben as to put conviction into her words. “You know me, I don't hold back.” 

“We'll work it out, Liz,” Richard replied, and she heard relief in his voice.

She'd really mucked things up when she went looking for Ben at Larissa's party. In hindsight, the idea seemed about as stupid an idea as she'd ever had.

“I won't be able to tell you where I’m staying,” she told Richard. “But that won't matter. If you need anything and can't get a hold of me, you know who to call.” 

“I'll get word to you about work,” he said, then, “Liz…” 

“Yes?” 

“Be careful.” 

She released a breath. “That’s exactly what I intend to do. Let me know any news once you find out.” 

“Will do. Bye.” 

She said bye and tapped the phone screen to end the call.

“Bad news?” Ben asked.

Liz set the phone on the coffee table. “Just business.” 

He covered her hand with his and squeezed. “We'll get him, Liz. I promise.” 

“Just be careful,” she said. “Right now, you're the Remmeys’ granddaughter's best chance.”
And hers.

Ben smiled. “I'm the soul of caution.” 

“Sure you are.” His large palm still covered hers. An embarrassing warmth rippled through her. “The sun isn’t even down yet.” She shifted and he removed his hand. Liz met his gaze. “How can things have gone so wrong in less than a day?”  

“Sanchez isn’t going to give us breathing room.” 

Liz nodded. “What's the word on my accommodations?”  

“We have a place in Las Cruces.” 

“New Mexico?” she blurted. “That's fifty miles away. How did you go from me staying at the ranch to leaving the state?”

“You did say you didn't want to involve anyone.” 

“I think—” She stopped as realization struck. “You're responsible for this.” His jaw tightened, and she realized he thought she was blaming him for the situation. “Me going so far away,” she quickly clarified. “I won't involve your family, so you're sending me away.” 

“The captain feels it's safer if we get you out of El Paso,” he said.

“But what if something happens?” 

His expression softened. “Like what?”  

Her mind raced. “I don't know. It just seems so…far away.” She should like the idea. Instead, it scared her—a lot. Maybe she should have agreed to stay at the ranch.

“Getting you far away is the idea,” Ben said. “There's nothing you can do to help. You have to trust us to catch Sanchez.” 

“Yes,” she said with dawning realization. “Being far away, out of touch, doesn't change anything for me, does it?” 

“I think you'll miss me, after all.” 

Worse, she was worried about him, more worried than she should be for a man—a young man—she'd only just met.

“I will be immensely glad when you're back safely,” she admitted.

“Me too. Come on.” He stood and extended a hand.

“Time to go already?” she said.

His faint smile faded. He grasped her hand and pulled her up—and into his arms.

Liz stared at the expanse of white cotton shirt taut across his chest and her stomach did a flip. She didn't dare look up.

“Ben.” She shook her head and pushed at his chest.

His arms tightened around her. “It's not time to go just yet.” 

The husky note in his voice caused her to raise her eyes. He stared down at her, blue eyes dark with desire. Her knees went soft, betraying her again.

“I know you're scared, honey.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face and a flutter skittered across her insides. “If I had my way, I would lock you up here at the ranch—with me.” 

A heartbeat of silence passed before she said, “But you won't be here.” 

He gave a single shake of his head.

“Ben,” she whispered, “this can't go anywhere.” 

“There you go again, getting caught up in numbers, Liz.” 

Her reply was cut off when his mouth covered hers. She was scared. Scared Sanchez wouldn't get caught, scared the Remmeys’ granddaughter wouldn’t come home, and scared Ben would end up MIA…scared he would come back and then… She gave into the warmth and security of his arms. She would regret it five minutes from now, but five minutes was a lifetime.

Liz flattened her palms on his chest and slid her hands up and around his neck. Ben's tongue plunged inside her mouth. She sparred with him, thrust her tongue deeper, then sucked his tongue into her mouth. His hold turned fierce. Her breasts flattened against his chest. He groaned and her head spun. Liz felt as if she were falling, then realized he was lowering her onto the couch. She sank into the cushions and his weight settled on top of her. Shock ricocheted through her at the strength of his erection.

The warm pressure of his palm on her ribs sent a shiver through her. His mouth slid from hers downward along her cheek to her neck as his hand moved upward. His lips found the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder and he sucked as his palm covered a breast. Liz arched into him, lost in the sensations of his mouth and hands. He gently kneaded her breast and the ache building in the rigid peak traveled downward where it collided with the throb between her legs. If she shifted just a little, he would settle between her legs and…

Ben seemed to read her mind and undulated his hips against her. The rigid length of him dug into her and she suddenly ached to have him closer, feel his skin on hers. He lifted his head from her neck and her heart thundered even louder when his mouth lowered to the breast he'd been kneading. He nipped at her nipple through the fabric of her shirt and soft cup bra. Pleasure streaked through her and she gasped. Ben froze and Liz threaded her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and urged him closer.

He groaned, then levered onto his elbows and looked down at her. “You're damned beautiful.” Her cheeks warmed. “That blush only makes you more beautiful.” He released a slow breath. “I want you, Liz, and God knows, I'd take you any way you would have me. But our first time won’t be a quickie—especially given that I won't be in your bed to follow up. I'm not going to chance you thinking that's all I've got to give—or all I want.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “I do have s
ome
sense.” 

Ben shoved to his feet, pulling her with him. He tucked her under his arm and started toward the door. Liz noticed a slight limp and glanced at his legs.

“That's your fault,” he said.

She jerked her head up. They reached the door and he stopped and looked down at her.

“When this is over, I'm going to finish what I started.” 

Liz's mouth went try. One way or another, she was in trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, Ben hit the number three on his phone, then kept his gaze locked with Liz’s while the phone rang.

Captain Medina picked up on the third ring. “Medina.”

“Captain, it’s Hunter. Sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Monahan just got a call from her boss with an order for her to meet with the FBI. They’re insisting on her statement
now
.”

“I just got off the line with Agent Phillips, head of the El Paso FBI office. The order came down from him. They’ll meet you at the safe house we use.”

“That’s a pretty slick end run,” Ben said.

“She has to talk to them,” Medina replied. “Might as well get it over with.”

Ben wanted to argue, but said, “Yeah,” and hung up. “Looks like you got your meeting, Ms. Monahan.”

Ben borrowed his father’s truck and, ten minutes later, they were on the road.

Ben could see that Liz was determined to meet with the Feds. He wasn't a fool. She planned on using the meeting to fill in the blanks she was sure he was hiding. She was too damn smart.

He'd known three days ago, when he met her at the photo shoot, that he was going to get to know her better. Looking back, he saw that he was hit harder than he’d realized. He liked her. More than liked her, if he was honest. Something about her got under his skin, and he liked what it did to him. He cast a covert glance at her in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, then returned his attention to the street.

“I know when a man is looking at me, Mr. Hunter.” 

Yeah, she was too smart. Dammit, why hadn’t she agreed to wait an hour before meeting with the FBI? The sun sat low in the horizon. In early August in El Paso, it didn’t get dark until after eight-thirty. He liked the idea of leaving the Feds after sundown—just in case they decided to follow him after he and Liz left the meeting with them. He could lose them a lot easier in the dark. He also grew increasingly nervous over the video that played and replayed on the news. The more he and Liz were out, the greater the chances someone would spot them.

The meeting place came into sight: A safe house they sometimes used, located less than two minutes from the Pebble Hills Park police station. Ben slowed, then turned into the driveway and parked. He turned off the engine and Liz reached for the door handle.

“Remember what I told you, Liz. Don’t tell them we're going to Las Cruces.” 

She nodded.

“And, Liz.” She shifted and looked at him. “You’re not going to Mexico with me.” 

“So that's what this is about,” she said.

“
This
—” he jabbed a finger toward the house “—is about us having our ducks in a row. I don't like this—I want you safely away from here—but we need your statement.” Despite his misgivings, that was the truth.

She nodded. “That's what I'm here for, to give my statement.” 

“And to find out what's going on.” 

“I want to know what the FBI has to say,” she replied. “I do have that right.  After all, there is a warrant for my arrest in Mexico.” 

“We'll get the charges dropped,” Ben said.

“I know you will. But I don't like flying blind any more than you do. You can understand that, can't you?” 

“I haven't lied to you, Liz.” 

“The sin of omission is the same as a lie.” 

He shook his head. “I haven't omitted anything. I told you the Feds want you to go back.” 

“True. But you're trying to convince me it won't matter if I don't go back with you.” 

Ben recalled thinking it would matter if she didn't return with him. He'd told Medina that, but wasn’t going to admit that he’d even had the thought. “I never said I thought it was a good idea,” he said. “You're a grown woman. I might want to grab your hair and drag you into my cave, but I know better.” 

She barked a laugh, then clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with laughter. Ben stared as she lowered the hand. Her mouth twitched as if she wanted to laugh.

“That's a very vivid picture,” she said.

The mental picture appeared full force in Ben's mind: him tossing Liz onto a pile of animal furs, then coming down on top of her. The vision sent the blood rushing from his head to his groin. He knew exactly what he would do to her in his cave.

“Who do they have to take my place?” she asked.

“What?” 

Her eyes narrowed and her question registered in his brain—as did the fact that she'd guessed what he'd been thinking. “She's an FBI agent, so I don't know her.” 

Liz hesitated, and he figured she was deciding if she was going to pursue what had been on his mind, but she said, “You’re confident that Mr. Sanchez will believe she's me?” 

The house’s front door opened and Masters stepped onto the porch.

“They've guessed I’m giving you last minute instructions,” Ben said. “No matter what happens, Liz, you're not going anywhere with them. They can't be trusted.” 

“They're the FBI, law enforcement like you.” 

He shook his head. “Not like me.” 

* * *

Ben hadn't exaggerated when he said the FBI agents weren't like him. Agents Masters and Braxton were distant and sterile, and Masters, in particular, exuded an edge that made Liz think there was more to this meeting than getting her statement.

“You’ll have to wait here, Ranger Hunter,” Agent Braxton said when they reached the living room.

Ben’s expression darkened and Liz thought he would argue, but he lowered himself onto the couch without replying.

“This way, Ms. Monahan,” Braxton said.

She followed them into a small den one door down the hall from the living room and sat down on a chair at a small table located near the left wall. Agent Masters turned on a recorder and asked her first to state her name. She complied and they asked her to recount what happened last night when she was kidnapped from the Remmeys’ home.

She retold the story, then agent Masters turned off the recorder.

He made a few final scribbles on a document in the open file before him and then looked at her. “You realize there's a warrant for your arrest in Juarez.” 

She nodded. “Captain Medina told me about the warrant.” 

He lifted aside a couple sheets of paper and read, “Accessory to murder and felony evasion,” then returned his attention to her. “These are serious charges.” 

“Yes, they are,” she replied.

Masters shot Braxton a look that made her think she wasn’t supposed to know about the upgraded charges.

“If Mexico decides to extradite you, we'll be forced to comply,” Masters said.

“Extradition doesn't happen overnight,” she said.

“True. But you’ll be arrested here in the US and held in custody until extradition.” 

Her heart jumped into overdrive. Surely, that couldn’t be right? “I'll be out on bond in two hours,” she said. “If events even escalated to that degree. I understand that Mr. Sanchez is a powerful criminal, but I doubt his ability to control the Juarez District Attorney, who would initiate extradition. The District Attorney would have to provide proof to the El Paso District Attorney that the charges hold water. If the El Paso District Attorney doesn’t agree, then the extradition order isn't worth the paper it's written on.” 

Masters nodded. “We hope that's how it goes.” 

Liz kept her gaze fixed on his. “You know as well as I do that the El Paso District Attorney will never honor an extradition order. I'm a civilian, an innocent bystander, who got caught in an undercover operation run by you—the FBI—and the Texas Rangers.” 

“You seem to think you know a great deal about how extradition works, Ms. Monahan,” Masters said.

Anger began to creep through her professionalism. “Is that a threat, Agent Masters? Because if it is, and by some bizarre chance the El Paso District Attorney honors the extradition, I can assure you my lawyer will go public with the story.” Fury had her insides shaking now. “I can see why you didn't want Mr. Hunter present for this conversation.”  

Masters' jaw visibly tightened. “Really?” 

“I'm guessing he would plant his fist in your jaw.” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, and the malicious glint that appeared in the agent's eye confirmed her mistake.

“You and Hunter have gotten close,” he said.

She flashed a cold smile. “Mr. Hunter wants to be sure I don't end up dead.” 

“You're in danger because of
his
mistake,” Masters fired back. “He created this problem.” 

Liz lifted a brow. “My understanding is that he went undercover for
you
.” 

“That was our mistake,” the agent snapped.

“And not your last mistake, either.” She kept her gaze level. “I don't like games, Agent Masters, so I suggest you get to the point.” 

He leaned back in his chair. “All right, Ms. Monahan, you want it straight.” 

“Will—” Agent Braxton began.

“Forget it, Jason.” His gaze remained fixed on her. “She wants it straight, that's how we'll operate. You see, Ms. Monahan, Hunter left us a big mess to clean up. That means tucking you away somewhere safe, while we get that asshole Sanchez. And we have to get him, because if we don't, then you, Ms. Monahan, are dead.” 

“Does cleaning up this mess mean sacrificing Mr. Hunter?” 

The malicious glint she'd seen earlier reappeared in his eyes. “If he's as tough as he is pretty, he'll be all right.”

Fear lanced deep, followed hard by a cold, burning anger. “I imagine he'll do just fine as long as you aren’t in charge of the case.” 

Masters straightened. “He's the one who fucked up—not us.” 

“Will,” Braxton said in a hard tone.

“What do you care what happens to him?” Masters demanded.

“I don't want to see anyone murdered,” she replied.

Masters shrugged. “He's just doing his job. If he'd done it right last night, he wouldn't be in any danger.” 

“I'm alive as a result of his actions last night.” 

“You shouldn't have been there in the first place.” 

“Are we done?” she demanded.

“We have your deposition,” Agent Braxton began.

“Then we're done.” Liz rose.

Masters shot to his feet and caught her arm as she turned toward the door. “We can't let you walk out of here.” 

She lifted a brow. “Am I under arrest?” 

His mouth thinned. “No. But we're responsible for you. If we let you go, you're dead.” 

“Captain Medina has made plans to ensure my safety.” 

“You're our responsibility,” Masters said.

“As I said, Captain Medina has already made arrangements.” She tried to disengage her arm, but his grip tightened.

“Pretty boy isn't going to be here to protect you,” Masters said. “So just get that idea out of your head. We're taking you into protective custody.” He started toward a door on the left side of the room.

“Let me go,” she ordered.

“Let's take a minute—” Braxton cut off when the entry door swung open.

Masters whirled around, pulling Liz with him. Ben stood in the doorway, eyes glued on Masters' fingers wrapped around her arm.

“Let her go,” Ben ordered.

“You don't have jurisdiction here,” Masters sneered. “Our orders are to take her into protective custody.” 

“Why?” Liz asked.

The question stopped the men cold.

“Why are you insisting upon protective custody when I told you Captain Medina made arrangements?” she demanded.

“Those are our orders,” Agent Braxton said.

Liz looked from him to Masters. “It is my legal right to refuse protection. But that aside, I will be just as safe under Captain Medina's protection.” 

“That's not the problem,” Ben said. “Is it, Masters?” 

“What do you know, pretty boy?” the agent replied.

Liz turned her attention to Ben, who said, “If we keep you, they’re afraid you’ll show up at the right time and put a kink in their plans.”

“Show up—” She shook her head. Then realization dawned. They didn't want her to get in the way like she had last night. Embarrassment washed over her and she dropped her gaze.

“It’s not your fault, Liz,” Ben said, and she returned her gaze to him. “They're blaming everyone but themselves.” He shifted his attention onto Agent Masters. “I said, get your hands off her.” He stepped forward and Masters reached inside his coat.

Liz glimpsed the gun he pulled from a shoulder holster.

Agent Braxton shouted, “Will!” as she shoved Masters as hard as she could.

Liz hit the floor beside him. Stong fingers closed around her arm and dragged her up into Ben's arms. He shoved her behind him, then seized Masters’ lapel and dragged him up.

“Hunter!” Agent Braxton shouted as Ben drove his fist into Master's stomach.

Masters doubled over and Agent Braxton lunged toward them as Ben swung an uppercut to Master's jaw. Liz’s heart jumped into her throat. Braxton grabbed for Masters’ arm but missed, and Masters slammed into the wall, then fell to the carpet