Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel (38 page)

But Abby got it. She actually got it now. She and Kane had connected. They’d laughed together and held each other and when she’d needed him, he’d been there for her. He was a good man. Probably too good for her. Definitely too good for her.

Yet he’d wanted to be with her. Wanted a future with her. And like a fool, she’d thrown it away.

“I have to believe there can be something good in my life,” she said softly. “Jeremy believed it could happen.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring myself.” She swallowed. “I don’t want to work alone anymore. I want to be part of a team.”

Noelle’s jaw twitched. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re leaving me for
Jim Morgan
.”

“No.” She met the other woman’s eyes. “I’m leaving you for Kane.”

Abby had expected fireworks, a harsh reprimand, but to her surprise, Noelle simply went quiet. For the first time since she’d met this cold, calculating woman, Noelle actually looked… uncertain.

Sighing, Noelle stood up and gripped Abby’s chin firmly, forcing eye contact. “Are you sure about this?”

Only a second of hesitation, and then she nodded. “Yes.”

Noelle released her, but not before gently running her hand over Abby’s cheek. It was a shocking gesture, the first hint of tenderness she’d seen from Noelle, and probably the last.

“All right then,” Noelle said briskly. Back to business. Back to normal. “I’ll call the pilot.”

“We’ve got a visitor,” Lloyd announced, poking his head out on the terrace.

Kane glanced up from his seriously shitty poker hand, experiencing a menacing sense of déjà vu. Last time Lloyd said that, Noelle had appeared on their porch.

He set down his cards, eliciting a groan from Luke,
whose unmistakable tell—scratching his left ear—revealed he had a ridiculously good hand.

“I fold,” Kane said with a smirk.

Luke let out a curse, turning to glare at Lloyd. “Thanks a lot for that. Do you know how much money I could have milked out of him?”

Kane got up and left the patio, heading toward the front hallway. Hank, the man who monitored their security cameras, met him at the door. “Can’t tell who it is,” Hank said. “Tinted windows.”

Shit. Not again.

“Should I let them in?”

“Might as well.”

Weariness climbed up Kane’s spine like a strand of unwanted ivy. He walked onto the porch. In the distance, he saw a red BMW approaching the front gate. Not the black Mercedes Noelle had driven up in, which was a good sign. Still, they didn’t receive many visitors, and none of the chicks Luke hooked up with could afford a Beemer.

The gate buzzed open and the car drove through. Kane rested his hand over the Glock tucked into his waistband. No danger alarms were going off in his head, but one could never be too careful. With Morgan off on some mysterious trip he seemed to take whenever they finished a mission, Kane had been left in charge, and he was always extremely careful about protecting the compound.

The car finally stopped, parking next to D’s dirt bike. A moment later the driver’s-side door opened.

All the air in his lungs left his body in one fell swoop.

It was Abby.

She wore a pair of snug blue jeans, a loose yellow tank
top, and white sneakers. Her long red hair cascaded across her shoulders, and as she walked closer, he noticed something silver sparkling at her collarbone. He squinted. Was she wearing a
cross
?

“Hey,” she called tentatively.

His voice came out rough. “Hey.”

She climbed the steps and then she was standing in front of him. Her sweet, flowery scent floated into his nostrils and he steeled himself against it. He had no clue why she was here, but he wasn’t about to let her presence affect him. So what if she looked cute and sexy and oddly relaxed? He’d meant every word he’d said to her back in Colombia. He couldn’t be with a woman who didn’t trust him.

“So,” she started awkwardly.

“Why are you here?” His tone was sharper than he intended, but he didn’t apologize for it.

“I…” She suddenly sighed, shaking her head in resignation. “Screw it. I was going to slowly ease into this, but it’s totally not my style.”

He stared at her in confusion. “Huh?”

“Here’s the thing.” She met his gaze head-on. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was eight years old and I’m pretty damn good at it. I can kill a person in a hundred different ways. I’m perfectly fine with being alone—it’s what I’ve always preferred.”

He drew his eyebrows together. Where the hell was she going with all this?

“I can do my job and be alone and live my life like I always have. I can live without you, Kane.” She released a shaky breath. “I just don’t want to.”

His heart rate accelerated. Just a bit.

“I don’t want my old life,” she admitted. “After we
said good-bye, I went to Noelle’s place in Vermont. I was planning on staying there until I got my next assignment.”

“Yet you’re here. Why is that, Abby?”

“Because there is no next assignment,” she said simply. “There’s only you.”

He couldn’t fight his skepticism. “You didn’t want me before.”

“I was scared.” Her yellow eyes flickered with remorse. “I was stupid.”

“Yep,” he agreed mildly.

“But I’ve smartened up. I came here because… well, because there’s nowhere else I want to be.” She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

He couldn’t help but grin. Her careless revelation, that little shrug, didn’t surprise him. Heartfelt declarations and Abby Sinclair didn’t go together. This was the Abby he’d fallen for—direct, unapologetic. He loved her even more for that.

“And I want a future with you,” she finished. She tilted her head. “So, is it too late?”

Was it too late? A childish part of him wanted to say yes, to punish her for the way she’d handled things back in Bogotá. But by punishing her, he’d be punishing himself. Where would he ever find another woman like her, anyway? Why would he ever
want
someone else?

“I think we could work something out,” he said slowly.

The corners of her mouth curved. “You think?”

“I know.” With an answering smile, he pulled her into his arms, his entire body flooding with warmth and pleasure as he breathed in the scent of her hair, nuzzled the soft flesh of her neck. “You’re not going to work for Noelle anymore?”

“I’ll take on the occasional assignment. But no more deep cover. No more giving up my identity, or sleeping with scumbags in order to kill them.” She searched his face. “I want to use my skills for better purposes. I want to save people.”

“We’ll do it together.” He grinned. “Morgan would love to recruit you for the team. I think he values your skills more than he does mine.”

She grinned back. “Well, he’d better be prepared to let me run a serious training workshop for you pansies. Someone needs to teach Ethan how to use a knife.”

Kane laughed. “If you drive everyone crazy, though, we might have to vote you off the island.”

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

“You know, like on that reality show, where they—” He stopped and shook his head. “Forget it. I doubt you even own a television.”

Abby seemed to hesitate again. “Do you think the others will mind having me on the compound? Coming along on missions?”

“They’ll adjust,” he said with a shrug. “And if they give you any trouble, you’ll just scare them into submission.”

“Damn right.” Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips over his. A jolt of desire shot through him. “They’d better get used to me, because I’m not going anywhere. I want to be with you.”

They kissed again, and this time Kane slipped her a little tongue. They were both breathless when they broke apart. Abby gave him an impish grin, wrapping her arms around his neck and linking her hands together. “So, that being-with-you thing—I think I want to start now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t even take the time to say hi to everyone and have a cup of Lloyd’s tea?”

One hand reached between them to cup his growing erection. He groaned.

“Maybe later,” she said dismissively. “Right now I’m more interested in getting you naked.”

He was lifting her into his arms before she could blink. “Best idea ever,” he muttered, bending down to kiss her again.

Kicking open the front door, he carried her inside, the sound of her laughter echoing against the walls as he marched up the stairs with her in his arms.

“A bit overeager, aren’t you?” she taunted as he took her into his bedroom and deposited her not so gently on the bed.

“You have no idea.” His hands fumbled with the button of her jeans. “By the way, I plan on keeping you in here for several days at least, just to let you know.”

She yanked on his collar and pulled him on top of her. “I have absolutely no problem with that.”

“Good.” His gaze suddenly landed on the silver cross around her neck. He slowly lifted it. “A new calling?”

“A reminder,” she said softly.

“To do what?”

A faint smile spread over her beautiful face. “To do everything.” She tugged on his hair and brought his mouth to hers. “Starting now.

On the roof of the low-rise across the street from the Diamond Mine, Trevor lowered his binoculars and reached for the water bottle at his side. He took a quick sip, then ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and sighed. Although he wasn’t about to admit it to the others—the team leader had to lead by example, after all—this gig really was too tedious for his liking. Surveillance was boring as hell, especially after the last couple of missions the team had taken on—rescuing relief workers in Ethiopia, and a kidnapped executive in Johannesburg. Then there were the thirteen little girls in Luis Blanco’s Colombian prison…

As usual, the memory of
that
particular assignment caused his thoughts to drift to Isabel, the undercover operative he’d teamed up with during the Colombia job. He’d been thinking about her a lot these past six months. Too much, probably. But hell, it was hard not to. He’d been a total shit for leaving things the way he had. The woman had saved his life, and instead of thanking her, he’d lashed out, blamed her for making him face his issues.

Funny, but the anger he’d been consumed by all those months ago had completely evaporated. Now when he thought of Isabel Roma, he was overcome with gratitude. He’d walked away from that mission with an important piece of knowledge—he
didn’t
want to die. Once, maybe, but not anymore. Isabel had helped him to see that.

And he’d yelled at her like a toddler throwing a tantrum and left her in a hospital room to recover from a bullet wound she’d suffered while saving
his
life.

“You’re a real asshole, Callaghan,” he muttered to himself.

Yep, he sure was. He could still make amends, though. After this job was over, he was in line for the unwanted vacation Morgan pushed on his men to prevent them from burning out, and Trevor was thinking of sticking around in New York. Isabel had mentioned she had an apartment there, so maybe he could finally work up the courage to contact her. Unless she was out in the field, throwing herself into the latest role her assassin boss had assigned to her. In that case, Noelle would probably know how to reach her…

Trevor contemplated picking up the phone and calling the queen of assassins, then shuddered. Maybe he’d ask Morgan to call Noelle. She didn’t seem to frighten the boss.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Sullivan’s voice crackled in his ear. “The kangaroo’s leaving the Outback. I repeat, kangaroo’s leaving the Outback.”

Trevor grinned. He’d rather shave his legs than say it aloud, but he really had missed that crazy Australian. Missions were always more fun when Sullivan was around.

Reaching for his field glasses, he focused on the strip
club. Sullivan had positioned himself in the outdoor patio of the pub next door, directly in the line of sight of the club’s entrance. Sure enough, Luke had just exited through the double doors. Trevor zoomed in closer, noticing that the dark-haired man looked a bit dazed.

He frowned. The plan had been for Luke to remain in the club until closing time, but a quick glance at his watch showed that only a few hours had passed since Luke had gone in. The eyes on the outside had no radio contact with Luke, so whatever the reason for his early departure, they had no way of finding out until he told them.

On the street below, Luke stepped up to the curb, zipping up his Windbreaker against the early-October wind. He paused at the crosswalk, then bounded across the street, disappearing into the alley separating Trevor’s building from the adjacent one. Luke was coming up to the roof, then. Something must have happened in the club.

The only telltale sign of Luke’s arrival was the faint creak of the fire escape. Then utter silence. Again, not something he’d say out loud, but those SEALs had definitely perfected the art of stealth. Luke didn’t make a single sound as he made his way onto the roof, and when he appeared out of nowhere like a damn ghost, Trevor almost jumped.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Luke shook his head, frazzled. “I got a lap dance.”

“Oh.” Trevor arched an eyebrow. “Okay.”

Without elaborating, Luke bent down and unzipped the backpack next to Trevor’s gear, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. Popping the earpiece in, he clicked it on and said, “Holden, you read me?”

Since they were all wired in, Trevor heard Holden McCall’s response. The man was watching the club’s back entrance, and from the rustling sounds that met his ear, Trevor suspected the other man was up in a tree. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Call D to take your place,” Luke said. “I want you to head back to the apartment and use your computer magic. Find out everything you can about one of the dancers, Livy Lovelace.”

“Is that an order, Trev?” Holden said briskly.

Trevor shot Luke a puzzled look before answering. “Yeah. Do it.”