The Huntress: full-length sexy romantic suspense (12 page)

With Fiona snug in his arms, he slipped out the building the same way he entered. Security at Six-Star would be five times tighter tomorrow night. He’d missed his opportunity to get some solid evidence against Joshua Whitfield. Perhaps he’d never get another. Vega owed him.

Fiona groaned and pushed against his chest when he lowered her into the passenger seat of Matt’s tiny Metro. He studied her innocent face in the dim dashboard light. This one had no business venturing into such danger.

Morning would soon wake up the city, and Fiona would be alert and spitting like a kitten. What was he going to do with her?

Chapter Ten

“Out of the goodness of my heart, I hand you an easy assignment and you find a way to turn it into something dangerous.” Jack slammed the door closed to his office and pointed for Vega to take the chair in front of his desk. It was just a few minutes after nine o’clock, not nearly enough time for Jack to have chugged down enough coffee that morning to make him this edgy.

She crossed her arms and curled her lips into that wry grin she knew Jack loathed. “You’re lucky you sent me and not some wet-behind-the-ears hunter to pick up that Brian Wright fellow.”

Jack grunted. He could grump all he wanted at her; Vega knew she was right. Whenever a fugitive was injured and there was a bounty hunter nearby, lawsuits followed. Skip Tracers got sued, the bonding company that hired Skip Tracers got sued, and the surety company underwriting the bonding company raised its rates. All and all, it was bad for business. By stopping Brian from blowing himself into several sticky pieces, Vega saved Jack from one whopper of a headache.

“Damn it, stop looking so smug,” Jack snapped.

“Can’t. It’s how I feel. Give me another assignment and I’ll get out of here. You won’t be able to see my smug face.”

Jack dropped into his desk chair. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy, healing,” he grumbled.

She frowned as she considered that. “I didn’t get blown up last night. I consider that taking it easy.”

He laughed, apparently unable to help himself. “You’re one of a kind, Vega. Special.” He shook away his smile. “You getting shot, seeing you at the hospital, damn, you shouldn’t be involved with such rough work.”

“Oh, please don’t you start giving me that ‘get married’ spiel too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got it memorized. Mom’s version is quite thorough.”

“Maybe you should listen to her. You could’ve been killed out there.”

“But I wasn’t.”

He didn’t seem to listen. “Your father would never forgive me if something were to happen to you.”

“Dad’s dead.”

“And that’s more reason for me to say this. I will honor his memory, Vega, and that includes watching out for his daughters.” His eyes took a vacant look as if he were lost in some long ago memory.

“He was always too tough on you girls. Just like your grandfather, your dad could be one helluva a mean bastard. But that was just his way. It wasn’t just his legacy he was worried about, he was worried about you.”

Her father worried about her? Wouldn’t that mean he actually did care—if only a little? It took a moment for the words to sink into her head.

“He never asked you to play the part of his son. Never wanted you to follow in his footsteps. He was old-fashioned. Women were to be protected. Period. There was no changing his mind on that point. Every day you hit the streets with that gun strapped to your belt and a police badge pinned to your chest, he nearly died from fear for your safety. Can you image how lowering it must have been for a man as proud as your father to send his own precious daughter into potentially deadly situations? I couldn’t understand his fear until the night I found you lying in that hospital bed. Daughters are to be coddled, pampered. You wouldn’t let him—”

“He never wanted a daughter.” Jack was wrong. He didn’t know her father like she did. She’d just needed to prove herself. She’d just needed to show him that she was every bit as good as a son. That’s why she’d become a cop. But that hadn’t been enough. Besides, she hadn’t been happy as a cop. And he hadn’t been happy with her, either. She’d just needed to do something spectacularly brave with her life. Then he would have loved her. Then he would have been the caring father she always longed to have. “He didn’t want me…”

Jack shot her a sharp look. “Vega, I have to be blunt. Your getting shot scared the hell out of me. Yes, you’re good. You’ve made me a lot of money. You’re unquestionably my best hunter. But still, I can’t get that image of you hurt because of me out of my head. I’m beginning to think your father wasn’t such a bastard after all. In fact, I’m beginning to worry that I might have made a mistake letting you work here.”

No. He wasn’t going to do this to her.

Running away from bounty hunting just because of a little danger wasn’t something that her father would ever do, or something she would do. “Lock me out Jack, and I’ll just go somewhere else. I’m not going to stop bounty hunting. It’s who I am.”

His frown deepened as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, but he didn’t argue.

“So?” She decided to press her luck. “You going to give me a new assignment or do I have to beg again?”

He studied the stacks of files still littering his desk. He pulled a few out and looked at them before settling on one. “Don’t complain about this one,” he said, handing the thin file to her. “I would’ve given it to you no matter what had happened down south in that swamp. This one requires a woman’s gentle touch.”

She took the thin file. Tyree Robinson, the heading read. Jack wasn’t done punishing her for the scare she’d given him by getting hurt. He truly cared about her. She didn’t doubt that for a moment, so she decided she could put up with this crap for however long he needed to dish it out.

“Get out of here,” he said with a brisk wave toward the door. “And be damned careful.”

* * * *

Tyree Robinson, a high school honor student from Dearborn, had been arrested for drug possession. Heroin, in fact, which meant Tyree was probably a lost cause. Her trial date came and went a week earlier. She’d run away from home the day of the trial. Vega planned to visit her family in person, of course. Talk with them in a nice, calm voice and try to pry a little bit more information from them, though families rarely knew too much in these cases.

Fortunately, high school aged bond jumpers weren’t too clever. Scared, a kid generally holed up somewhere where she’d feel safe, often hiding out at a friend’s house; a friend the parents never seemed to know anything about. More often than not, the drug supplier. Certainly not the kind of kid an honor student would invite to her parents’ house for dinner.

Because of the legwork involved, she figured this assignment would inevitably take her just about two days.

No reason to delay. Vega shoved the paperwork back into the folder. A stray scrap of paper slipped from the file and fluttered to the floor.

It was something Vega had overlooked.

She scooped up the paper, a column torn from a newspaper. A grainy photo of Tyree smiling, her hand raised in a wave, accompanied a brief article. “Tyree Robinson Crowned Miss Motor City,” the headline read. A jeweled tiara sat at an awkward angle on top of Tyree’s head.

“Great, just great. A freaking beauty queen. No wonder Jack wanted me to have this one.”

“What’s this about beauty queens?”

Her head snapped up. Butch quirked a blond brow and grinned. “Jealous of beauty queens, Vega?”

“Hell, no.” She jammed the article back into the file folder and zipped up her backpack. Butch had never popped up at her office before. He called; they’d arrange a meeting.

The last time she saw him, he’d surprised her at her apartment, she reminded herself. She hadn’t called him since that night. He hadn’t called her.

“Been a while,” she said, leaning back in her desk chair. “You’ve got one hell of a bruise on your jaw. Some fugitive get the better of you?”

He smiled good-naturedly, which wasn’t at all in his nature, and stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. “Heard you got a hole through your shoulder. Bumps and bruises are just part of the game.”

Pain rippled down her arm at the reminder of the injury. She pushed the sensation away. “Guess so. I’m okay, but it’s not something I intend on letting happen again.”

He leaned against the closed door and watched her with those assessing blue eyes of his. His battered cowboy hat tipped forward when he leaned his head back. “I would’ve called, Vega.” She felt like she was being sized up, her fitness weighed. “I’ve been out of town. Just got back this afternoon. I’m glad to see you’re healing up—physically and mentally.”

He let the word “mentally” linger in the room, as if there was some note of doubt in his head about her mental fitness. Did he really think one blow to her ego would cause her to crumble?

“This bullet is no different than getting sucker punched. I should’ve seen it coming.” She shrugged defensively. “I will next time.”

“Good.” His smile flattened out. He propped his boot against the door, striking a lazy pose. “I’m not here to grill you. Not unless you want me to.”

“What do you want, Butch?” As if she needed to ask. Some guy sucker punched him. He was bruised and probably angry about it. What he wanted was a rough tumble with someone who could take it.

“Come back to my apartment with me.” The vein in his neck jumped as his pulse picked up a beat. “For the rest of the day.”

“I don’t know.” She thought about the kids she needed to interview and Tyree’s family fretting after their daughter’s safety. One missed afternoon wouldn’t bring the girl home any sooner. Today’s work would only lay the groundwork for tomorrow.

She could swing by Dearborn that evening…after Butch had had his fill. She wasn’t about to say no, not when her body had been screaming for sex for days now.

“My apartment,” she said, wanting Butch to take her in her bed. That’s where the erotic dreams lived, in her bed. That’s where she needed her lust satisfied.

“Sure,” he agreed. He opened the door and took a step out. “Ready?”

The phone rang just as she finished packing up her things. “I’ll catch right up.” She reached for the receiver on her desk.

Butch growled and didn’t have the good manners to give her a moment of privacy.

“Yep?” Vega said and gave Butch a hard glare.

“Snitch here,” the metallic voice on the other end of the line sang. “Just a quick question. The man you wanted tracked, his name Finn Kayne?”

“Yep, Finn. That’s what he’s going by.”

“Hmmm…”

“What?”

“Must be a new name. There’s nothing.” Snitch sounded irritated by that.

“Okay, I understand.” Vega was ready to hang up. With Butch standing there devouring her with those wolfish eyes, her body wanted nothing to do with chasing down some new drug dealer.

“Wait.”

Vega waited.

“Pay double the fee and give me a couple of more days and I’ll get something. I promise.”

“Sure.” The two hundred dollars she got paid for bringing in Brian Wright was going to cover Snitch’s fee with fifty dollars to spare. Double the fee would mean she was paying for Snitch’s search out of her own pocket. Still, the money seemed worth it. If Finn Kayne was the new man calling the shots in Detroit, she’d do well to learn everything she could about him.

“Don’t worry about Fiona,” Snitch said quickly.

“Fiona?” That stopped her heart.

“She’s been trying to get to your computer files. I won’t do it for her, and the way I’ve set up your firewall, no one else can touch them either.”

“I’ll kill her,” she said without much heat, not able to help respecting Fiona for trying such a conniving trick.

“Sisters.” Snitch’s metallic laugh crackled.

“Ready?” Butch bit off when Vega hung up the phone.

“You sure know how to woo a woman, Butch.” She punched his arm and gave him a push toward the door.
Good thing his skills in bed far outweighed his lack of skills outside of it,
she thought. Otherwise, she would’ve sent him on his way alone.

The elevator was empty when they stepped in. She kept her gaze trained on Butch like a hawk following her prey as the doors slid closed. The tension in the air tasted heavy, sharp. They both wanted what he had to give. Mindless, thoughtless sex.

He wasted no time. He crushed Vega against the metal wall. She savored every rough curve he had to offer when he parted her legs and dipped down to thrust the bulge in his pants against her crotch, letting her know just how much he wanted her.

He covered her hand when she reached out to the round button for the first floor and pressed her fingers against the smooth plastic. The elevator jerked into motion, jostling her. He grabbed her hips and raised her into the air so that her legs opened wide to curl comfortably around his waist. He took her lips, kissing her with a madman’s abandon, playing games with her tongue that sucked her breath away. He drove his pelvis against her over and over, shaking the elevator and threatening to break through the many layers of clothes while keeping her pinned to the wall—an interlude to what he intended for her in her own bed.

Her heart skipped an excited beat.

He lowered her to the ground and stepped away a moment before the elevator doors slid open. She grinned at his perfect timing. A small crowd of businessmen and women stood waiting just on the other side of the door on the first floor.

“Excuse me,” he said, all business-like and brushed past them. Vega gave the group a friendly nod and followed.

“Finn?” he asked not a beat later. “What’s your business with him?”

He lacked the manners to pretend he hadn’t been listening to her conversation with Snitch, which Vega decided to use to her advantage.

“Just trying to find out who he is and what I need to watch out for. What do you know about him?”

Butch grunted. He was trying to avoid having to answer.

“You know something,” she pressed. “Spit it out.”

That’s how it was between them. They could be humping like rabbits one moment and talking nothing but business the next. The ease with which they slipped from one role to the next felt comfortable. There were no emotional strings anywhere in sight to trip her up.