Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) (19 page)

Those words, that single touch down her chest, made her want him all over again.

She looked at him with big round eyes that made him wonder if any man had ever told her how special she was. How utterly unique and sexy and fuck-it-all worth dying for. Because the bone-deep possessiveness coursing through Hugh’s veins meant whether he liked it or not, Tess was his. And he protected what was his.

The kiss he’d given her, the one claiming her, wasn’t anything he’d planned. But she’d responded with such incredible wild abandon that he’d been helpless to stop it. The intensity had proven more powerful than he’d anticipated.

During the past week, he’d cracked her tough exterior, learned her quirks and looked forward to getting up in the morning just to see what new thing he’d discover about her. He’d tried to fight the feelings of admiration and attachment spreading inside him like a burning blaze and filling the spaces he’d sworn to keep vacant. But he couldn’t.

It didn’t matter that there was no happy ending in their future. What mattered to him was
her
future. Now that Trey was back, he would gladly give up his life for hers. Until then, he planned to enjoy her body to the fullest.

“Want to do this again?” she said, with a smile worthy of a Miss Congeniality award. As if she needed to convince him.

“Definitely.” He circled her nipple with his finger.

She pulled his hand away, laced her fingers with his. “Is it still raining?”

He looked toward the window. All she would see was black nothingness, the tinted window offering a muted peek in daylight, let alone night. “Still raining.”

“Darn.”

“Shame,” he added, turning his head to take in her beauty.

“You know you stare a lot?” she said, not at all displaying any modesty.

“I can’t help it. I can’t take my eyes off you.” He brought their locked hands down to her tattoo, extending his finger to touch it. “Tell me about this.”

She looked down and he sensed the artwork had special meaning because she lingered there for a long moment, as if remembering.

Instead of answering, she reached her other hand to touch his chest. “Tell me what yours means first.”

Fuck.
The last thing he’d wanted to talk about was his brother, but he’d walked right into that.
Idiot.

Keeping things from her was futile. Thinking this camaraderie between them would wane was useless. He felt her under his skin, smelled her in his sleep, tasted her when his mouth was dry. He didn’t want to need her. But the way she stared at his chest, the way her kiss ignited a passion in him he hadn’t known he possessed, wiped away his confusion. She planned to kill him. He’d love her until they found Dobson. Until she needed to follow through with her assignment. Because her life was more important than his.

Love her?

“So are you going to tell me or not?” Her satiated voice shook him from his thoughts.

“It’s the Zodiac sign for Cancer. In honor of Max.” Would she settle for the short answer?

Her hand tickled his flesh, her fingers delicately gliding over his heart. “You put it in a special place. Your brother must have meant a lot to you. You said he died from depression after losing his mate. How is that possible?”

Her voice dripped with concern, compassion. He’d never told a soul the depth of Max’s despair. The pack believed poison had taken his life, not heartache. Hugh thought it better to honor him that way.

“He actually died from a broken heart.”

She continued to comfort him with small, gentle traces from her fingers. The feel of her fingertips over his heart, over the one thing he had left of Max, prompted him to continue when she remained silent.

“Did you know the death of a loved one can kill you?”

“No,” she whispered.

“It’s called Broken Heart Syndrome. It produces a toxic overload of stress hormones that result in stress cardiomyopathy. My brother experienced the same symptoms as a heart attack. Shortness of breath, chest pain, fluid in his lungs. These all severely weakened his heart. He ignored the shifter half of his being and let the pain of losing Heather destroy his human half. He didn’t want to fight it. Wasn’t resilient enough. His grief stressed his heart to the point of melancholy and depression, and he chose to give up. He couldn’t bear to live without her.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

She dropped a kiss over the tattoo. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I know you’re hurt that he left you.” She turned her head and laid her ear on his chest. “Your heart tells me so.”

He did not want to talk about his heart. Or how speaking of Max had conjured up ideas that Tess was his mate. The intimacy between them at this moment choked him. Once again, he’d shared something with her he’d never shared with another soul.

Silence filled the space around them until she said, “What sign are you?”

It amazed him how she seemed to know just how far to push him on certain subjects. He was grateful he didn’t have to elaborate on the heartache his brother’s passing had caused. By having the tattoo over his heart, he’d hoped to protect himself from further pain there. The mere sight of Tess ruined that plan.

“Taurus. How about you?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” She lifted her head so it rested on the couch.

His body and mind relaxed at her game playing, but her nakedness distracted him enough that he couldn’t think of a damn Zodiac sign besides his and his brother’s. “How about we make it multiple choice?”

“Fine. Aries, Scorpio, Aquarius or Pisces. Take your pick.”

He traced a finger along her arm. Her tanned skin was silky smooth, flawless. Toned. There wasn’t an unseemly mark on her. There wasn’t a tan line on her either. Her golden skin offered beauty unmatched. It pushed his sexual drive into fourth gear.

“Sagittarius. Now tell me why you don’t have any tan lines.”

“Hugh! That wasn’t a choice.”

“Sorry.” Wow, he’d thought of a sign. “Your body is distracting me. And to be honest, I don’t really care. The tan lines—that I care about.”

She scooted up, bent her legs and brought them to a sideways angle atop the couch. Now he had a glimpse of her fine ass. This tactic of hers, naked on the couch in a provocative pose, might kill him without too much hard work on her part.

“I don’t have any tan lines because I sunbathe in the nude.”

I’m a goner.
One rung on the death sentence down, not many more he could take. His expression must have tipped her off to his utterly confusing enchantment with her because she continued. A good thing since he needed to pry his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“In my backyard. Alone. Although occasionally Kensie or Francesca might join me. I love the sun, love to be outdoors.”

He’d love to see her in the sun, outdoors, sunbathing. “Now tell me about your tattoo.” He couldn’t see it with the way she sat, but remembered it distinctly. It was a Kanji tattoo but he didn’t know what it meant.

“It’s the symbol of strength in Kanji.” The after-sex glow left her flushed cheeks, and Hugh sensed like him, the tattoo was a sore subject.

Still, he needed to know more. “Why did you pick that?”

“It’s a long story.”

If she thought he’d let her off the hook after what he’d just confessed, she was wrong. He knew about her family, but he didn’t know about her past loves. Past boyfriends. And his intuition told him the tattoo had to do with that. Did her past really matter in the scheme of things? In the short time they had together? No. But he was curious. And obviously a lovesick fool who needed details.

Lovesick?

“I think we’ve got a while until the rain lets up,” he said.

“Good.” She pushed up on her knees and straddled him. “Ready for round two?”

Okay, he’d have to pry it out of her later because, in case she hadn’t noticed, his cock
was
ready. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

Chapter Fourteen

Hugh woke with a start. The rain had stopped.

He checked his watch by carefully lifting his arm. Three A.M. He’d been asleep for about an hour. As he lowered his arm back over Tess’s sleeping form, he breathed in the scent of her citrus shampoo, enjoyed the feel of her backside snug against his front.

His office was warm, quiet. A dim light from an overused lamp on his desk finally flickered goodnight. The Persian rug he and Tess were sprawled on was thick and soft, and with the late hour he decided to let her continue sleeping. They could leave for San Diego in the morning.

Before they’d fallen asleep, he’d gotten to know every intimate part of her body. He’d navigated every slope and curve with his fingers, his lips, his tongue. Nothing tasted sweeter than her skin. Sugar-coated, yet salty sensations had slid to the back of his throat with each lick. He’d had to remind himself to rein in his brawn before lust got the better of him and he bit.

Nothing stirred greater passion in him than her response to his touch. Her body shook, trembled, burned. Her hands had repeatedly brought him closer so not a sliver of space existed between them, no matter their position. Her arousal had singed his nose. The beat of her heart drummed an intoxicating rhythm that slayed him. He took her to climax over and over again with ease and confidence. Her bones softened underneath him.

As they’d lain in each other’s arms, sleep beckoning, he’d learned about Jason. She didn’t articulate so much as reveal through her body language the depth of their relationship. Her heart rate had picked up, her pulse had pounded in his ears, and something had flickered in her eyes. Regret? Denial? He didn’t know for sure. All he knew was that Jason’s death meant more than just a loss, but he couldn’t figure out what.

She stirred, reminding him
he
was with her now. She reached for his arm and tugged it against her chest, nestling against him even more. If he died right now, he’d die a lucky man, a happy man, and that thought carried him back to sleep.

When he woke with a start for the second time, it had nothing to do with the weather.

And everything to do with the lack of body warmth pressed against him.

Tess was gone.

Rays of early morning sunshine penetrated the tinted window. He jumped to his feet and looked around for any sign of her. His clothes sat in a neat pile on the office chair—not where he’d left them—and a sniff told him coffee, strong and caffeinated, percolated in the tiny office kitchen. Maybe she’d decided to play happy morning after, doing domestic by folding clothes and making coffee.

Yeah, right. When hell froze over.

He caught the time and almost choked on his own tongue. Eight o’clock. Holy shit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept until eight. That meant it wasn’t Tess outside his office door, but Gavin. Or maybe Tess and Gavin. Great.

He dressed quickly and headed out of his office. If he found the twosome bonding over a cup of coffee he wouldn’t complain. He’d rather that than discover she’d actually left without a word.

The door to Gavin’s office stood open and the inside empty. Passing the conference room, he poked his head inside and found it also bare. That left the reception area. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Gavin sat comfortably on the couch reading the newspaper.

No Tess.

His heart fell into his gut with the weight of a bowling ball, leaving a gaping hole where the damn thing used to beat. His mind whirled with reasons why—and why not—this made sense. If he could kick his own ass he would. He hated that he’d slept through her fucking escape. How had she gotten away without him knowing it?

She’s an eliminator, that’s how.

“Morning,” Gavin said, sounding so goddamn cheerful Hugh wanted to punch him.

“Yeah.” He took quick inventory of the area. No purse, no scent, no carbon footprint, no couch pillow out of place. She’d successfully eliminated any trace she’d been there at all, and from the looks of things, had been gone for some time.

For Tess, a head start like that was equivalent to ten shots under par. It would be close to impossible to catch up. If he even knew where to begin.

“Rough night?”

“No.” He moved to the kitchenette to pour himself some coffee.

“I didn’t see any log to say you’d made it to San Diego last night. You guys leaving this morning?” Gavin folded the paper and put it to the side.

“Doesn’t look like it.” He took the chair next to the couch, careful to avoid Gavin’s curious eye.

Was this it? Was last night the last he’d see of her? A sharp pain lanced the side of his head. He knew, knew with every animal instinct he possessed, that what had happened between them last night and the days leading up to it were out of the realm of ordinary. A connection that defied the odds existed between them.

Her reasons for leaving could be many. She might be heading to San Diego on her own to locate Dobson. She had, after all, fulfilled her end of the bargain and helped him find Trey. He knew she’d gotten enough information, enough help from him, to take her in the direction she needed to go. And now she wanted to do it on her own.

Or did she go back to P.I.E. to report on her progress and plan her strategy for eliminating him?

Or…

He took another deep breath.

Or maybe she’d run away because she was scared. Afraid of her feelings for him. Afraid that she wouldn’t be able to do what the job required.

From their conversations concerning her work, he gathered her boss, Christian, was a real SOB. From what he’d heard about P.I.E. before he’d ever met Tess, he knew the organization ran with precision and no room for mistakes. She’d said Christian had told her this was her last chance. Would he really kill her if she failed?

In his peripheral vision, he saw Gavin’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t shake thoughts of Tess to comprehend the words. If it came down to her killing him, which he suspected it would, he’d not flinch at letting her succeed.

But what if he could save her? What if he could take her out of P.I.E. and give her a new life? He’d fought the idea of mating with everything he had, but as sure as the moon rose, he wanted to spend every day with her.

Every. Day.

Until his last one.

A swift kick to his knee brought him out of his revelry.

“Yo, dude. Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

“No. And don’t fucking kick me again.”

Gavin scooted back on the couch. “Aren’t we the happy camper? I mean you’re usually unpleasant in the morning but today you’re not pulling out any stops. I guess things didn’t end the way you wanted them to with Tess.”

The way “Tess” rolled off Gavin’s tongue—like he knew her and liked her—riled him. He knew it was irrational. Gavin was a smooth talker. A natural people person. That was why he handled most of the charter services. And that was why he ground his teeth together and reined in his anger. It wasn’t Gavin’s fault Tess had left without a goodbye.

“You could say that.” He took a gulp of coffee.

Gavin picked up another section of newspaper. “Go get her then.”

“What?” Hugh put his cup down. It tasted like shit this morning.

“I said go get her. It’s obvious she means a lot to you.”

“How the hell would you know that?”

“Because you’re barking like a dog, look like you got maybe four hours sleep, and in the five years I’ve known you, I don’t think you’ve been on more than three dates. This girl, from the way you were looking at her last night, you want to have more than dates with.”

The distance he always kept with Gavin shrank. His body relaxed some. The muscles clenched with agitation mellowed. His partner had pegged him to a T. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Gavin knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. “Maybe you’re right.”

He should fly to San Diego and help Tess, no matter her thoughts on the topic. If Dobson was a wolfen and involved with the Wolf Seekers, it was important he get to the bottom of things.

Wait a minute. Tess’s disappearance had mottled his brain. There was no
should
. He needed to get to Dobson. Hugh was positive everything was tied together somehow. And he needed to find out why for the safety of his pack.

“I’m rarely wrong.” Only Gavin could sound conceited and endearing at the same time.

Rising to his feet, Hugh felt better about the situation, felt his head clear. “Gavin, you’re a genius.”

“It’s a curse I live with 24/7.”

“I’m going to take the—” The ringing of the telephone cut him off. He got up and grabbed it off the reception desk. “Langston Aviation.”

He fisted his free hand at hearing the voice on the other end. “Hugh, it’s Lieutenant Andrews.”

“Lieutenant, how are you?” He knew the answer to the question. The police didn’t call just to say hello.

“I could be better. We need you. A rock climber set out yesterday afternoon and hasn’t been heard from since. His mother phoned us this morning when she discovered he hadn’t come home. He’s somewhere in the Angeles National Forest.”

“Somewhere?” Hugh moved around the desk and sat. He opened a side drawer and pulled out the Angeles National Forest map.

“The boy’s mom has no idea where he went. She did say he always carries a cell phone, but so far we’ve had no luck.”

“How old?”

“Nineteen. A student at Loyola. You got the time this morning?”

Hugh looked over the desk at Gavin and wished for a second his partner could handle this. But only for a second. Because this was what he did. He rescued people. And right now a college kid needed rescuing.

“Of course. Come on over. I’ll have the chopper ready.”

“Will do.”

He hung up and opened the map to find the most logical place to start looking. As difficult as it was to focus, he had to. The sooner he found the boy, the sooner he could go to San Diego. He told himself later wouldn’t be too late. He’d meet up with Tess. They’d find Dobson and question him. Then he’d whisk her away. Figure out a plan to get her out of P.I.E. and save both their lives.

If she wanted it.

“Want some help with the copter?” Gavin lumbered up to the desk.

“That would be great.”

“You look distracted,” Gavin said. “Don’t worry about Tess. From the way she looked at you, I’d say you’ve got nothing to worry about. So things are on hold for a few hours. No big deal. Right now keep your mind on the job.”

“Point taken.” Only it
was
a big deal.

A very big deal.

Zilch. Tess had come up with zilch to prove Hugh was anything but a respectable, upstanding individual. She sat on her bed, her body warm from the hot shower that had made her skin prune. The contents of the file she’d been handed all those nights ago in the limousine were spread across her comforter. The allegations inside were totally bogus. There wasn’t a shred of truth to the accusations of fraud, death threats, embezzlement, force with a deadly weapon or kidnapping.

Well, unless she counted her abduction. Which she didn’t.

She felt bad about slipping something into his glass of water after they’d made love for the third time. He hadn’t discovered the tiny pills tucked inside a fold in her wallet when he’d searched her purse. And getting him to sleep soundly was the only way she could snoop around his office without being caught.

He’d woken once, when the rain had stopped, and she’d feared the pill wouldn’t work. But after she snuggled against him and brought his arm to her chest, he’d finally dozed off for good.

Langston Aviation thrived, a by-the-book business from her estimations. She’d pored over all the files, invoices, logs, and come up with nothing to indicate any wrongdoing. In fact, if anything, her fondness for him skyrocketed when reading about all the lives he’d helped save.

Not wanting to leave anything to chance, she’d also investigated Gavin and found everything on his side of the business in order too. There wasn’t a file cabinet she didn’t open, a desk drawer she didn’t empty of contents, a book she didn’t look behind. No one was more thorough than her, and when finished, she knew whoever the hell had hired P.I.E. to eliminate Hugh had an ulterior motive.

Because he didn’t deserve to die.

One of the hardest things she’d ever had to do was slip out of the hangar before the sun rose. She wanted to see his sleepy eyes open, wanted to kiss him awake, feel the stubble on his face against her cheek.

Impossible,
she reminded herself.

Tess plus Hugh equaled impossible. The feelings he’d triggered were unwelcome, dammit. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow herself to feel anything or remember the damn kisses and touches and sensations. For the past five years, she’d jumped out of planes and been dropped from helicopters on snow-covered mountains that touched the clouds. She’d mountain climbed, rock climbed, surfed waves big enough to swallow her whole, and scuba dived with sharks. That was how she liked to live her life. On the edge, unafraid to take a challenge—no thought to personal safety.

Work. Adventure. Those two things kept her distracted from thoughts of anyone but herself. They didn’t give her any time to think about giving her heart away.

In one hour, she’d walk into P.I.E. and argue for Hugh’s innocence. She didn’t know how Christian would react to her findings. In all her years, she’d never found anyone innocent before. A sick feeling came up her throat and she swallowed it down. From the very beginning, something had felt off about this case. Something that had nothing to do with her attachment to Hugh or her last chance.

She fell back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling. She’d never get Hugh out of her head. His face was stamped into her memory for good. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything but the way he grumbled when she bated him, the way he looked at her when she teased, the way he cherished her when they made love.

Which only made her more miserable. She’d loved three people in her life. Her parents and Jason. And they’d died. If—and it was a big if—she allowed herself to love Hugh, she feared he’d die too. So no matter what she did, he was doomed.