FEARLESS (3 page)

The color left her cheeks as quickly as it had come. “Davis?”

“I need a second.” He had to think. Somehow his work life had once again intruded on her safety. She didn’t even know about the guy who’d threatened her a few months ago and ended up in the morgue. That guy learned the hard way not to come after the woman of a former Defense Intelligence Agency agent turned private-security expert.

Before Davis could blink, she was at his side. Her hand went to his hair and her eyes filled with concern. “Oh, my...your stomach is black-and-blue. We need to get you to a hospital.”

He hissed a sharp breath through his teeth when she tried to wedge her shoulder under his armpit and get him to his feet. “Whoa, honey.”

“I’ll call 9-1-1.”

He caught her around the waist before she could race through the room looking for a phone. Even through the thin shirt, he could feel the heat of her skin and his fingers tightened.

His temperature spiked as his gaze lingered over her breasts. He justified the need rumbling through him by thinking about the adrenaline aftermath. Never mind that he’d never had the desire to kiss anyone else but her after a work takedown. Seeing those big eyes and soul-stealing face, he felt his common sense go on the fritz.

It had always been this way between them. Hot and pulsing, both desperate to get the other into bed. They could communicate between the sheets. Real life was the problem.

“The ribs are from my last job.” And Davis doubted they’d heal anytime soon.

“You got jostled.”

He slipped his hand over hers, trapping it against his stomach. The dull ache caused by the touch was totally worth it. “Jostled?”

This time it looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes. She refrained but likely not by much. “Davis, don’t do that thing where you grab on to words I say and then repeat them back to me in order to ignore or stall a tough discussion.”

Most important to Davis, she didn’t pull away. Not even when he slid his fingers through hers. “You know me too well.”

“Exactly.”

“Then you know what I’m going to say next.” He pulled her in a little closer and her eyes sparkled with that compelling shade of light brown. “I need to call my team and we need to get out of here.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “Police.”

“Not until my people—”

“You have ‘people’ now?”

“—check for identification and scan records to see what hole out of my past the guy crawled up and out of.” She glanced down at their joined hands and he thought he saw a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, though what she could possibly find amusing about the situation was beyond him.

“You’ve never referred to the team at the DIA that way before.”

“I’m not working there now.”

The smile vanished as fast it had come. “What?”

He understood the tension that suddenly appeared around her mouth and eyes. His job had been a huge wedge between them. Truth was his current position was much more dangerous than the old one, and she’d made it clear the old one had scared her to death. “I’ll explain that later, but the ‘people’ I plan to call first is Pax. He’s my brother and, like you, he could be a target, too.”

“You think the attack is about you?”

“What else could it be?” With the Corcoran Team, a private group contracted out to government agencies and private companies to assist in high-priority but under-the-radar kidnap rescue missions, the bad guys were very bad.

Davis and his team worked off the grid, taking on the missions others couldn’t do within legal parameters. That slapped a bull’s-eye on their backs, and it looked as if someone had come looking for payback.

The only question was why they’d included Lara in the plan. Knowing who the attacker was and whom he worked for might answer that question. Until then, Davis was not letting her out of his sight, no matter how much she argued. And he was pretty sure she’d fight the protection.

“You’re forgetting the guy who killed the lieutenant commander didn’t even know I was in the house,” she said, acting as if the out-of-context comment explained everything.

But the news crashed through Davis’s mental walls. He’d just come up with a plan, and then she threw this new information at him. Kind of an important piece, too. “Go back. Someone was killed?”

“I mentioned that.”

“Uh, no. That’s a fact I’d remember.”

“I’m not going to argue about who knew what when.” Her hand left his stomach and she started pacing. When she got close to the body, she came scurrying right back to Davis’s side. “For a second I forgot there was a dead guy on the floor. What does that say about me?”

The conversation threatened to veer off course again, so he brought it back. “You were talking about the murder of a naval officer?”

“Let’s just say that’s the second time today I fought a guy off with a lamp.”

The information nearly stopped Davis’s heart. The idea of her injured and scared tore through him with the force of a hurricane, leaving behind a hollow emptiness in his gut. He could go a lifetime without seeing the look he had seen on her face a few minutes ago. But this went beyond fear. She’d been forced to defend herself, and that unleashed a fury inside him that had his head thumping.

He needed details. “Lara—”

“We’ll come back to that when we discuss your new job.” She put a hand under his chin and let her thumb brush over his lips, which stopped what he was going to say. “And, yes, I will follow you out of here. You’re the expert.”

Not sure of her game, he closed one eye and looked her over. “That’s good to hear. A little surprising, but the right answer.”

“I learned some things once you left...” That thumb made one more pass before her hand dropped. “And don’t gloat. It’s not attractive.”

Words backed up in his throat. He had no idea what to say. In his head, the answer was clear—get her out of there now. The rest of his body had a different idea. “I’ll call Pax and the rest of the team to deal with this guy and start investigating.”

“Only you would use the word
deal,
like a dead man is a broken mug or something. He’s a person, and being this close to him is creeping me out. Like, my insides are shaking so hard I might throw up.”

That possibility didn’t scare Davis, but he trod carefully with his answer because they’d had this argument before and he’d lost—big. “He tried to kill you. Once he crossed that line, I didn’t care who or what he was.”

When she continued to stare at him, he steered the conversation back where he needed it. “I need the phone.”

She slipped away from him only long enough to grab it off the far table—then she was back at his side. “Here.”

His hand slid around her waist to rest on the sexy dip of her lower back. “It’s going to be fine.”

“You should do one more thing before the cavalry comes.”

He doubted anything mattered all that much except getting somewhere out of sight. “We’ll be long gone by the time they arrive. That’s the point.”

“Well, before we go, you might want to put on some clothes.” Her gaze traveled to his lap. “You’re naked.”

The words registered in his brain and he jumped up. A visual sweep down his body confirmed her comment...and the amusement in her voice. “What the...? When did the towel come off?”

“Very early in the battle.”

“I didn’t even notice.”

“Impressive, by the way. I had no idea you knew how to bare-body fight.” This time the back of her hand pressed against her mouth to stop what looked like a smile.

He had no problem with her looking all she wanted, so he played along. “I’ve told you before that my talents are endless.”

Her gaze took another bounce down and up, then she smiled. “I can see that.”

Chapter Three

Less than ten minutes later, they slipped through the kitchen and out the back door. Lara watched as Davis caught the screen before it could slam shut. Always thinking and rarely unprepared. That was how she thought about him, and her mind wandered there often.

They hurried across the porch, the boards creaking under her sensible pumps. His sneakers didn’t make a noise. It was as if he placed each step with precision, including his run down the four steps to the muddy square of a backyard.

Her gaze focused on his butt. Not a bad focal point and certainly less scary than looking up into the eyes of another attacker. Two were enough for one day. Davis also made the staring easy. He had put on jeans and a T-shirt and carried a bag Lara wanted to believe was loaded down with clothes and essentials like shampoo but probably only contained weapons. He did love his big-boy toys, but at least he had clothes on now.

Through the haze of panic enveloping her and the sick ball of dread bouncing around in her belly, she smiled. It was not as if seeing Davis naked had ever been a hardship. He stood six foot one with long, lean muscles. If there was an ounce of fat on him, she defied anyone to find it. If anything, he was even more toned, more fit, than when she’d left all those months ago.

Looking at him now and holding his hand while they crept on boards balanced over the big puddles, she watched the muscles on his back tense and flex under his shirt. Nothing new there. The broad shoulders and military-short sandy-blond hair hadn’t changed. Neither had the rough edge to his face, complete with a broken nose from years ago that had never healed quite right and a full, kissable mouth.

Put it all together and you got a man who was self-assured and strong, compelling and intriguing without being pretty. He walked by and women turned. He took a woman to bed and she didn’t want to leave again for days. Lara knew that last one from experience.

“You okay?” His question, delivered in a monotone voice, almost blended into the sounds of traffic blocks away.

“Except for the whole thing where people are trying to kill me? Yes.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “That’s the spirit.”

They walked to the six-foot fence running between his house and the next-door neighbor’s then followed it to the very back end. Unless he planned to chew his way through it, she didn’t see this as a viable way out. “Uh, what are we doing?”

“Escaping.” He trailed his hand over the wood planks.

“Did you develop the power to walk through walls?”

He shot her a sexy smile. “If only.”

Refusing to get sidetracked by the shine in his green eyes, she glanced around the yard. Nothing was out of the ordinary. You’d never know a dead man lay only a few feet away.

The strangeness of life going on, the sun shining and a lawn mower running nearby, struck her. When a person died, the world should stop, if only for a second. But nothing changed.

“Here we go.” There was a click and a panel of boards slipped open.

“A hidden door? Of course. Everyone has one.” She rolled her eyes, but his back was to her so he missed it. That was a shame because it really fit here.

Davis had a contingency for everything. Well, everything but her, which was part of the reason she’d handed back the ring and still cried over the loss.

“It’s my get-out-of-Dodge-fast plan.” After ducking his head inside and taking a look around, he held the door open and motioned for her to pass through. “After you.”

It was not as if she had a choice. Her life had careened out of control hours ago. Now she just held on and hoped not to throw up. Her knee throbbed and the drum-crashing thumps in her head promised a killer headache any second now.

They stepped inside a fenced-off square consisting of a small shed and what she guessed was a car under that slipcover. When they reached the shed, Davis flipped open a black box and typed in a code. The gate at the back end of the enclosed space opened. It spilled out into the alleyway that ran behind his house, the same house he’d moved into a week after their engagement had ended.

They were supposed to have bought it together, even put in the offer together, but when the relationship fell apart he went through on his own. Funny how the original sales listing forgot to mention a secret car compartment at the back of the neighbor’s property.

“Any chance you’re going to tell me what’s happening here? I feel like I walked into a movie a third of the way through.”

A door Lara hadn’t even seen on the house side of the enclosure opened and a tiny older woman walked out. “Is it time, Davis?”

Lara couldn’t help but stare. The lady wore a long royal-blue robe buttoned up to her throat, dwarfing her under-five-foot frame. Her shocking white hair was long enough to tuck into her collar but thin enough for Lara to see the woman’s pale scalp underneath. Slippers and cheeks rubbed pink with bright blush rounded out the look.

Whoever she was, she knew Davis and wasn’t surprised to see him. She walked right up and put her hand on his forearm. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him.

“Hi, Mrs. Winston.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back. “I need the car.”

“Go ahead.” She patted his arm then turned to Lara. “Well, who is this pretty young thing?”

“This is Lara, my...” He shot Lara a warning glance. “Fiancée.”

“Well, it’s about time, young man. Come here, dear.” Mrs. Winston gave him a squeeze and shuffled over to Lara.

It was her turn. Mrs. Winston hugged her, though her arms barely reached to Lara’s back.

“Uh, hello.” The older woman was so small and thin that Lara worried about crushing her by accident, so she kept the hold loose.

When the older woman pulled back, she took both of Lara’s hands in her curved ones and her smile faded fast. “Did that boy fail to give you a ring?”

Lara glanced at Davis. He stood behind Mrs. Winston with an unreadable expression. Clearly this woman viewed Davis in a grandson sort of way. Lara wasn’t about to unload about all their past problems. It didn’t hurt anything to let this woman think what she no doubt wanted to hear.

“Don’t worry. He gave me a beautiful ring.” And technically that wasn’t a lie. He had. A perfect solitaire with baguettes on a platinum band.

It had broken her heart, actually shredded it in two, to hand it back. Not because she loved jewelry—that sort of thing never mattered to her—but because of what it symbolized. The commitment she so desperately wanted from Davis.

Mrs. Winston reached out and absently patted Davis’s shoulder. “He’s a nice boy.”

He handed her a cell phone. “You remember what I told you, Mrs. W?”

“Stay inside, don’t talk to anyone including anyone in a uniform, put the alarm on, pretend I don’t know you and wait for you or Pax to come back.” She peeked around Davis’s muscled arm. “I guess I can add Lara to the list of people I can trust.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “Nicely done, Mrs. W.”

“My mind is just fine, you know.”

“All of you is.” He winked at her. “Now, back inside.”

Mrs. Winston padded away without asking for an explanation. The snide part of Lara figured that was why Davis liked the woman so much. She didn’t ask questions.

He closed the door, sealing them inside the odd parking space. When he turned back and walked to the front of the car, he whistled. The peppy tune continued as he ripped the slipcover off to uncover a pretty boring blue car.

Not Davis’s usual style. He didn’t go for flashy, but he usually chose trucks of some sort. This thing barely had a backseat.

With the driver’s-side door open, he reached under the dashboard and pulled out a set of keys. He smiled as he jingled them in front of her. “Ready?”

The man looked far too satisfied with this little scene. “What, no helicopter?”

“Not on such short notice.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He frowned. “Do you want to drive?”

“I’d prefer an explanation. You involved your neighbor in something dangerous. Since when do you do things like that?” That piece didn’t make any sense. If anything, Davis was overly careful.

He used to talk about contingency plans and had even run through a safety drill with her one time. The second time he’d tried she’d threatened to dump a pot of hot coffee over his head. Not that she would have, but coffee was sacred to Davis so he’d fallen for it.

He insisted civilians were the main problem in most difficult situations. Something about them taking away his options and messing up the fluidity of the operations. People without skills were fine as long as they listened. Mrs. Winston obviously listened. Looked as if she harbored a schoolgirl crush, too, but Lara wondered about her ability to follow directions.

“She thinks she’s my top secret assistant, but really she’s a nice old lady who never gets even a phone call from her deadbeat kids in Delaware. Her husband died more than a decade ago and she’s alone. I mow the back lawn, talk to her and, yes, play along with her active imagination, including installing a security system that rivals most high-tech office buildings.”

She listened but the questions remained. “I still don’t get it.”

Nothing in his explanation sounded like the Davis she knew. With his messed-up background he hadn’t learned much in the way of family coping skills. His bond with Pax was unbreakable, but coddling elderly women seemed outside of Davis’s skill set.

He smiled. “From the time I moved in she tried to wander into the house. More than once she set off my alarm by accident. Almost got shot another time when she snuck in the back while I was out front. It was a problem until she decided I was a spy.”

The word clunked in Lara’s brain. “Spy?”

“International James Bond type.”

They used to laugh about televisions shows and how they portrayed law-enforcement officials, especially those who worked undercover like he did. Expensive drinks and cars were so out of the realm of reality for Davis that he often swore his way through a program.

“You hate that term.”

He shrugged. “I tolerate the whole spy thing for Mrs. W because it makes her happy.”

The idea of Davis playing into that sort of nonsense to make an old lady happy made Lara’s stomach do a little dance. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“It was necessary. But, yeah, Pax also thought it was hysterical.”

The game came together in her head. “So, naturally, you told her Pax was a spy, too.”

Davis flashed her that sexy smile that had sent more than one woman into an eye-fluttering swoon. “I wasn’t about to go down alone. Point is, she loves it, and the wandering-around thing stopped. Now she watches the house for me and is much more careful because she’s
helping
me.”

“And she lets you keep a car here.” Lara ran her hand over the roof, marveling at how clean it looked for being held outside of a garage.

“I actually bought the spot. Money was tight for her and it worked well with the spy story. Also gave me a place to store the car that I prefer to keep for emergencies.”

The little dance turned into a full-fledged stomach jig. He presented this tough-guy tarnished image but underneath he was about helping people. Maybe it came from being abandoned by his mother that he never let anyone else get stuck out there all alone. Whatever the origin, it was one of those things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place.

“You rescued her,” Lara said.

“Uh, no. I came up with a way to neutralize her.” He walked around to the passenger’s-side door and opened it. “Get in.”

It was just like him to duck a compliment. He saw admitting to the existence of his bone-decent good side as some sort of weakness. She’d never been able to make him see that the size of his heart was much more impressive than the size of those biceps.

Rather than fight, because, really, there was nothing for her to win on this one, she slid into the seat. She waited until he’d climbed in before asking the obvious question. “Where are we going?”

“Pax’s boat.” Davis slid the key in and turned. The engine roared to life.

“Is being surrounded by water really the safest choice?” Then there was the problem that she got queasy if the boat rocked too much.

She’d never been on this one, but they’d gone boating with friends before. She’d tried that focus-on-a-spot-in-the-distance thing and ended up losing her lunch over the side of the boat. Not the best impression on his then–work friends.

“It’s not registered to Pax. Only a few people know about it and all of them have brutally high security clearances. Whoever is behind this shouldn’t have a clue.”

She waited until he’d pulled out of the spot and relocked the gate to talk about the point nagging at her. “I notice you didn’t ask if I had a boyfriend before you added me to your spy story.”

The car grew deadly quiet as she traced a pattern on the inside of the window. When the silence stretched, she glanced over. The rigid jaw and tick in his cheeks told her what she needed to know. This was not his favorite topic. Understandable, but she thought she knew his response, so she was prepared to wait all day. And she let him know that when she glanced over and lifted her eyebrows but didn’t say a word.

He exhaled in that women-are-so-annoying way men often did when they were cornered. “Do you?”

He didn’t even try to make it sound like an honest inquiry. “Oh, please. I know you know exactly what’s going on in my life. Or at least you think you do.”

A smile broke over his mouth. “Yeah, I’m single, too.”

* * *

C
LIVE
E
BERSOLE
BROUGHT
his car to a slow crawl and stopped behind the designated warehouse on the southwest waterfront in Washington, D.C. He didn’t have to look at his watch to know he’d lost some time on this job. Took him longer to clean up Steve Wasserman’s row house than expected. Clive had wiped the place down, except, of course, for the evidence he needed the police to find.

Remembering the scene brought Lara Bart to the front of his mind for about the hundredth time in the past two hours. He hadn’t counted on her. That one proved to be a fighter and a significant complication.