Too Hot to Hold (12 page)

Kaylee suddenly looked shy and uncertain, almost vulnerable, the sex flush still staining her cheeks.

“Come on.” He urged her gently through the doorway, which led into the large kitchen. “Have a seat. Try to relax.”

Once she was comfortably seated at the table, which had been the scene of more late night discussions and eating sessions than he could remember, he passed her a glass of water and put some coffee on for her.

“What happens now?” she asked finally.

“There’s someone I can call. He might be able to help, if I can get in touch with him.”

He’d met Clutch through a network of retired Special Forces men, many of whom had turned to mercenary and private contracting work after they’d gotten out of the service.

Nick had heard the rumors of a government-funded military group—stories had abounded beginning about a year after his incident with Aaron. The only person he’d ever asked about it was Clutch, an ex-Delta turned merc Nick had done some work for in Africa last year.

“You lost track of him?”

“The connection I had in Africa hasn’t been seen in a while—he helped my brother out of a jam about three months ago. I’ve worked with him before too.”

“He’s a mercenary.”

“Yes.”

She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I won’t be able to trust him.”

“You shouldn’t trust him. You shouldn’t trust anyone, not in a situation like this.”

“I trust you. And I don’t want to be wrong about that. I can’t afford to be wrong,” she told him.

“You’re not,” was all he said before he put the cell phone to his ear.

10

Nick walked away from Kaylee, left her in the kitchen and moved toward the office for greater privacy. He needed space, mainly because he was still turned on, despite—and because of—the danger that surrounded them both. He pulled the door nearly closed behind him, leaving it open just enough so he could see if Kaylee decided to leave the kitchen and wander.

But before he could try to wrangle Clutch’s new phone number from a guy who knew a guy, his cell began to buzz. It was Max, who didn’t even wait for Nick to acknowledge him before he spoke. “You’re not going to be happy.”

Max didn’t sound happy himself at all as he continued. “I did a little more research. Called that asshole back at the DoD who owed me a favor and got him to spill a little on Kaylee Smith.”

“And?”

“And she’s K. Darcy.”

A journalist. He recognized the name as one who’d been working the Cutter-Winfield-is-alive angle for years.

“What the hell does this undercover reporter want with you?” Max asked.

She was investigating him and he’d just committed to helping to save her life. He’d invited her inside. And he couldn’t totally blame his dick for it either.

Not totally, but a little.

Fuck. Me
. “It doesn’t matter what she wants. She’s not getting it. What did you find on Aaron Smith?”

“He’s not in the system.”

“He’s AWOL. Deceased.”

“Doesn’t matter, that would’ve shown up in my search. He’s erased. Which means back off. I’m not raising any more red flags on this one. I’ll be lucky if no one notices these searches.” Max paused. “We’ll see just how well my track-covering skills are.”

Someone didn’t want anything about Aaron getting out. It was too late now—too late to worry about it too.

“I assume you got the file.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He didn’t bother with the usual
I owe you
. “I just needed to check a point of fact.”

“Point of fact
—hanging out with a reporter is never a good idea.”

“Point taken.” There were too many things running through his mind that he needed to sort through, and getting Max—or anyone else—more involved would only trigger more governmental red flags.

Max pulling this particular SITREP had most likely done so already.

Kaylee definitely had more she needed to share with him about this situation—he was sure of it. Last night he hadn’t cared much. Right now he cared.

He’d figured she had the DoD connection because of Aaron. He’d been really off his game with this one. Normally, he’d be able to sniff out a reporter a mile away. This time he’d been distracted by the Winfields and Kaylee’s hair and the way her perfume stayed on his shirt long after she touched him.

Finding out she’d lied to him—even by omission—didn’t dampen his want for her. The tattoo along her back was firmly etched in his mind, and even the warning tingle of the scar at the base of his throat wouldn’t be enough of a deterrent. And that pissed him off even more.

It was time to have a nice chat with K. Darcy.

Nick had disappeared to make his calls, and half an hour later, Kaylee continued to drink the strong coffee he’d made and drum her fingers nervously on the scarred oak table to break up the silence of the large old house.

Her life had changed dramatically in a matter of days. It had happened that way when she was younger—being left behind by her mother, meeting Aaron. But things had settled down for her in recent years, and as much as she thought she enjoyed the stability, the status quo, the subjects she picked to investigate told her otherwise—she was always pushing limits. Her fear sometimes got the better of her, of course, but never like today when those men came to her door.

Whoever they were, they’d tracked her. She was in so deep that there would be no getting out until she got to the bottom of all of this. And so she waited impatiently for Patrick, her assistant, to call her back with the name of someone who could help her get around in Africa, in case Nick’s resource didn’t pan out.

Her phone vibrated: a text message from Patrick with the name of a woman—a photographer and a guide.

Kaylee would have Nick with her for protection—but if this woman was half as good as her reputation, they’d be guided through the DRC with minimal hassle.

She dialed the phone quickly. A woman answered on the third ring, giving a soft hello with a British accent.

“Is this Sarah Cameron?”

“Who’s asking?”

She turned toward the door Nick had left through before responding in a low voice, “I’m a reporter—K. Darcy for the
Ledger.”

A pause, and then, “I’ve heard of you.”

“I got your name from a colleague of mine, he worked with you last year—Richard Kent. He said you really know your way around the area.”

“Do you want me as a photographer or as a guide?”

“I need to get to an area in the DRC safely. I’m going to be arriving in Africa by ten in the morning tomorrow—my time—I’m going to need a guide.”

“The DRC’s a dangerous place.”

“I can pay you well,” Kaylee assured her.

“The DRC’s six hours ahead—you’ll land at four in the afternoon here.”

“Can you help me?”

“Where exactly do you need to go?”

Kaylee read the coordinates to her—Nick hadn’t mapped them yet, but he’d told her it was along the Lualaba River.

“That’s Ubundu,” Sarah told her after a few seconds of silence. “I can help. Call me with the exact time you’re landing. I’ll meet the plane. Fly into Kisangani—it’s the closest to where you need to go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to trust me or not?” Sarah asked her, and before Kaylee had a chance to answer, she continued, “Are you working on a story? Because if you need a photographer, I’d be happy to help.”

“This isn’t for a story—it’s personal,” Kaylee told her.

“I understand personal. I’ll wait to hear from you.” Sarah disconnected the line and Kaylee stared at the phone for a second before shutting it and placing it on the table.

It took her a moment before she realized that she was no longer alone in the room. There was a well-over-six-foot-tall man, dressed in some crazy mismatch of camouflage and tie-dye, at the back door, and he was staring at her in a way that she wasn’t sure was friendly.

The rifle he wore casually around his neck did little to shake that feeling. She wondered just how much of her conversation he’d heard.

“Chris, what the fuck?” Nick barreled through the door and came up behind her. She sighed in relief that at least they knew each other.

“So what, now you’ve got a thing for reporters?” the man drawled, but still he didn’t move from his position, nor did he take his eyes off Kaylee, and yes, the man called Chris had heard enough.

She took a physical hit from those words but Nick didn’t seem surprised at all. In fact, the only one who was surprised was her, and that was never a good thing.

They know who you are, but they don’t know what you know
.

She could do this. “It’s true—I wasn’t trying to hide it. I was about to tell you, back at the apartment before we got, um, interrupted.”

Chris raised a brow and looked at Nick, who told him, “It’s not what you’re thinking, asshole.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking, trust me,” Chris retorted, still calm, and after that brief exchange, all eyes were back on her.

She turned her full attention to Nick, stood up and held out her hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it mattered. We weren’t going to see each other again—you said so yourself.”

“And then I came back.” Nick’s teeth were gritted.

“But you told me…” She faltered, not wanting to reveal more than she had to in front of Chris, although he seemed to have gotten the gist well enough already.

“Chris, I need to speak with Kaylee alone.” Nick’s voice was tight and oh-so-angry. She wrapped her arms around herself for only a second and then let them fall to her sides, hands fisted.

She’d dealt with angry military men before, she’d do it again.

Chris didn’t argue. She watched him move, silent as a shadow, out a side door to God knows where. Nick didn’t say anything until she turned back to him.

“Look, I’m sorry that you had to find out about me from someone else,” she started.

Nick didn’t acknowledge the apology, barely blinked as he stood, unmoving, in front of her. The large kitchen seemed smaller with his presence and far less comforting than it had just a mere hour earlier.

She wondered if he’d always given off that air of control and decided yes—his demeanor was something that couldn’t be faked or learned. He’d been born with that easy grace, that rough prowl that defined him as a man who was a lot to handle. Tonight, he looked ready for combat. Ready for anything.

She hoped she was as well. “Are you going to stand there and stare at me all morning?”

“You’re something else, aren’t you? Now you’re pissed at me?” He shook his head. “I wasn’t listening at the door, but obviously you somehow gave yourself away to my brother.”

“Then how did you find out about K. Darcy?” she asked. “Did you run some kind of background check on me?”

“I was trying to get some intel on Aaron. And I also know you ran one on me.”

“I tried.”

“Of course you did.” He turned away from her and laughed, but all too soon he was facing her again, holding her tight by the shoulders. “Are you screwing me, Kaylee? Are you and Aaron in on some kind of sick scheme together?”

“What? No!” She struggled to get away from him but he held her fast, even pulled her closer so that his body pressed against hers as intimately as it had last night.

“How do I know? Maybe you fucked all the other men on Aaron’s list in order to do a story on this.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she wrenched away from him and slapped him hard across the face. He didn’t even flinch but the crack of her palm meeting skin made her feel better. Her voice shook with a barely restrained anger when she told him, “You basically told me you were a bastard—I should’ve listened to you.”

It was his turn to jerk away. He swallowed hard, and a sudden show of emotion filled his eyes all too briefly before it was replaced by a cool gaze. “You should have.”

“You were the one who came back, not me. Why the hell did you come back?”

That stopped him cold for a second. When he spoke again, his words were unexpected. “I don’t like thinking about you with anyone else.” His voice was quiet, rough, and he’d moved closer to her, although he didn’t touch her. “I didn’t like seeing that other guy’s ring at your apartment. And I sure as hell don’t like not being able to stop thinking about you.”

“Well, look at that, the big bad warrior is afraid of something. Well, here’s a tip, Nick—I’m scared too. I didn’t want this, didn’t expect to feel anything for you. The last thing I wanted was to get involved with another military man.”

“Well, good thing we’re not involved, then.”

“You left me your phone number. You came back to find out more information on Aaron. You were worried about me,” she continued. “I’m not writing a story about this. I’m trying to get out of this alive. I’m…” She broke down then, unable to hold back the frustration and the anger, and she turned away from him completely so he wouldn’t see the tears. His words bit at her, crude and harsh, but knowing what she knew about Nick, about his past, a small part of her understood.

If he was truly Cutter Winfield, he’d have spent his entire life avoiding reporters. She supposed she would lash out too. And so she drew on her own strength, because that was what had gotten her through all the tough times in her life. “It’s hard for me to trust you too, Nick, because of what you do for a living. I think you can understand that, based on what’s happening around me. Please believe me—I’m not planning on doing a story about you or about this. I just want to figure out what’s really going on.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that?” His laugh was short. “Sorry, Kaylee, but I’m not that fucking naive. What’s to stop you from writing about what happened between me and Aaron?”

“My word. I understand undercover. My job depends on it. And sometimes, even, my life.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Don’t you get it? I get threatened almost every time one of my stories is published. The threats that aren’t discounted immediately are forwarded to a special branch of the police. They don’t do much except file them away, in case…” She drew a deep breath. “I stopped asking about what the notes said after my third month on the job. It’s been easier not knowing.”

He hadn’t thought about it like that, not at all, and every protective instinct in his body came to life more strongly than ever. “Why didn’t you say that before?”

“Because it’s not something I like to admit. Saying it out loud makes it real.”

He rubbed the small scar on his neck as he stared at her. “This is as real as it gets, Kaylee.”

“I’m not afraid of real, Nick,” she told him. “Right now, there’s just one thing that scares me.”