#2 Dangerous Games (33 page)

"You're so modest, Mace," Clint snorted. "What else have you found?"

"There's a rumor you have Morganna stashed in Diva's basement suite." Mace cast him a leer. "Now that sounds like fun. Can I come play, too?"

"Did you forget Morganna's trigger-happy knee?" Clint asked him carefully.

"Not likely," he growled, scowling. "I didn't mean with her. Jeez, Clint, not all of us have lost our minds like you have."

Boy, that one was the truth.

"Any leaks on Diego's whereabouts?"

"Nothing yet. He's staying hid real good. But we do have good ole Roberto Manuelo. He's Diego's right hand since Carmelita died. From everything I have coming in, it's ole Manuelo that has the hard-on for you." Mace stood from his

chair, stretching the kinks out of his body before glancing back down at the computer. "I have some feelers out on his whereabouts. Kell and Ian are also on their way here. They'll be able to cover your and Morganna's asses after you leave here."

"'Have you briefed them on the situation?" The message was clear. If anything happened to Morganna, Clint was going hunting. Everyone responsible would pay.

"It's been done." Mace nodded firmly. "I also have the info on Manuelo and several of Fuentes' current head men. Those boys need to watch their asses better. My sources have been spilling info since last night."

"Pull it up." Clint walked over to the computers. "Once we make our appearance at Diva's, then he'll make his hit. If he goes true to form, he'll not come himself, though. He'll send his best men, so we can at least slow him down for a while and hopefully get the location of the lab they're using for that drug. And Nathan's whereabouts."

Macey stilled. "Nathan wouldn't willingly give info," be said.

"And his training to resist the drugs came second only to Kill's," Clint reminded him. "He's the only one that could have given the names of the teams that took him out."

"Damn," Macey sighed wearily before turning back to the plan they were working up. "What's the chance of pedestrian casualties in this thing?"

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Mace's fingers were moving over the computer keyboard as he began to pull in information.

"Almost zero," Clint sighed. "Diego doesn't hit en masse. He likes to think he's subtle. He likes to prove he's the better gamesman. He'll want to take us out personally. My guess is since I was the commander of one of the teams that struck him, he wants to make an example of me and Morganna. He can't do that if he does a wipe on the club."

Clint ran over the information that popped up beneath Mace's talented fingers. There were four listed as Fuentes' generals, Manuelo among them. There was Diego's bastard uncle Jose and his nephew Santiago as well as a smaller player from a year ago.

"When Kell and Ian get here, I'll apprise Morganna of the plan we have in place." Clint rubbed at his jaw as he read the data on the screen. "We'll get moving this evening."

"She's going to be jumping out of her skin to get started" Mace grunted. "That woman is an adrenaline junkie, Clint Maybe even as bad as you are. She'll be raring to go."

That was what he knew, and it terrified the hell out of him.

"Kell and Ian lie itching to get started as well. They'll he here soon."

"How many know about this place?" Clint frowned.

"Just the right people," Mace assured him. "Men who| know to keep their damned mouths shut, that's for sure. DID you think you were my only leak? I love ya, man, but you're a rare visitor and I get lonely." He waggled his brows and pursed his lips in a comic display of utterly false affection.

"Let me have your keyboard." Clint waved Mace away from the computer. "I need to run a few checks of my own on some of the regulars I recognized at Diva's."

"Spoilsport." Mace lumbered from the chair. "You can play with my toys, but yours racks me. That's just so not right, man."

Clint's snort of laughter was followed by the sound of a door slamming. He turned, eyes narrowing, as he watched Morganna smile benignly at both of them.

"I bet Clint isn't rude enough to get inside and play with your hard drive, either, Mace." She arched a brow mockingly as she padded across the room.

Mace shifted nervously, rubbing his hand over his chin as he flashed her a bright smile.

"Sunshine. I hope you slept well?" Amusement laced his voice as he steered carefully clear of her.

Her lips twitched as her gaze flicked from Mace to meet Clint's. Laughter lurked in the gray depths and tugged at her lips. With her hair falling in disarray around her face, the loose T-shirt and pajamas, and her bare feet, she reminded him of the precocious teenager she used to be.

"I got cold." Her gaze was warm, heating him in ways he knew he should be terrified of.

Instead, he swiveled around until he faced her fully and patted his knee in invitation. She fitted against
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him perfectly as her arms looped around his neck and she perched his lap.

"He has work to do," Mace grumbled. "You should fix pancakes."

"Give me a reason to cook, Mace," she drawled mockingly. "I do my best work after seeing grown men twitching pain."

"Then beat up on him," he grunted, pointing to Clint. "Instead of cuddling against him like a damned kitten. Some things just ain't right."

Clint smoothed his cheek over Morganna's hair, watching Mace scowl at both of them.

"Do your thing on my computer, Mac, and get it over with. Then you can explain this harebrained scheme you've up with Drage Masters and that balls-busting woman of his. Smith and Morganna here ought to get along just fine."

There was a triumphant glitter in Mace's eyes as he spoke, a smirk on his lips as he met Clint's gaze.

Clint sighed, shaking his head as he felt Morganna tense in his arms. "What is he talking about?" She tilted her head back to re at him, putting his lips much too close to hers. He couldn't help dipping his head that last inch for a kiss. She was sleep-tousled, soft in his arms, and what he was about to do was clenching his guts with dread. When he lifted his head, bittersweet satisfaction raged through him at the misty emotion in her eyes and the flush to her cheeks.

"He's talking about taking out Fuentes." Clint grimaced pushing her up from his lap before patting her rear, allowing his hand to linger, to enjoy the soft curve and warm flesh beneath the cotton.

"I thought that was the object all along." She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Breasts tipped with pebble-hard nipples despite the frown on her face.

Clint stared back at her, steeling himself against the decision he had made, praying to God for a miracle.

"You have your wish," he told her. "We're going to Diva's tonight. We'll be slaying in a suite in the lower level, and working with Drage Masters and his head of security, Smith. We're going to draw Fuentes'

men out and see how many we can take down. Manuelo will know where the lab is; we suspect he's the head of that little operation."

"What about the mole on Joe's team?" Clint watched her eyes sharpen, watched the sense of excitement that filled her eyes even as calculated intelligence began to gleam in the stormy depths of her gaze. Damn, she could be scary some times.

"We're after him, too. Joe's only in so far as using his team to watch and provide backup. He's unaware we're also working to uncover the mole he doesn't want to admit he has. We're in a dual operation here, Morganna. It's not going to be easy-"

"Bullshit!" She waved the warning away. "If we're working together we can do it, Clint. I saw Masters'

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computer setup; his system is state-of-the-art."

"It was compromised, though." Clint explained the drugging of the girl the night before and the bastard's awareness of the cameras in place. "He's changed his camera angled and added a few, but Joe doesn't know this. He's also added a secondary surveillance point to the computers. Those in his office won't display the two additional cameras. Those will be in another room. Joe's group will be given a quick explanation of the setup and then we'll see what happens."

Morganna watched Clint closely. He was in SEAL mode now, hard-eyed, his voice firm as he laid out the operation and answered her questions. He was talking to her. He wasn't ordering her. He wasn't treating her like an extra he had to deal with. He was working with her. And the plan he and Drage had come up with was a damned good one.

"I'm pulling in two of my men on this as well." Clint turned to the computer, motioning her over as he pulled up their in-formation. "They're regulars at Merlin's. Know them?"

She stared at the screen. "Kell and Ian. I don't know their last names. They pretty much stay to themselves, other than whatever women they have on their arms. They like to watch us dance." She waggled her brows mockingly. "They like that a lot."

"I bet they do," Clint growled, a scowl marking his face. "You know what that dance floor is, right, Morganna?"

"Of course I do." She shrugged negligently. "The droves of wolves pick their innocent little lambs from within the writhing masses of bodies. Only the, quote, unquote, subs take to the dance floor. They're out there to be seen, to be lusted over and watched."

"So why were you out there?" Clint's voice was dark, progressive. She loved it.

"Because I like to dance. If I wanted a Dom, I could pick one myself. I don't need to literally put myself up for auction to do it. Why did you think I was there?" She propped her hand on her hip as she regarded him with mocking

amusement.

"You're a menace," he muttered, his hands moving over the computer keys as he followed the information Mace had pulled up.

"You say that as though you doubted it, Clint," she drawled, ambling over to the couch and the stacks of boutique bags sitting there. "Whose clothes?"

"Yours. Smith went shopping for you." He sounded less than pleased. "I haven't looked at them yet. I was afraid to."

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It was a good thing he hadn't. Morganna looked into each bag, restraining her smile as she glimpsed the clothes the other woman had bought. Jayne Smith just had righteous taste. She was definitely going to have to go shopping with her soon.

"I'll go through them later then." Morganna picked up the bags and carried them into the bedroom. "Are you hungry, have you eaten?"

"Hungry." Mace's voice was almost desperate. "Pancakes."

She rolled her eyes. She should fix bologna sandwiches instead, except she was rather hungry herself.

Besides, she had a feeling she was going to definitely need her strength to work with Clint. SEAL mode was complete Dom mode. Obey me, do it my way, tough-assed alpha. She smiled slowly Working with Clint was going to be a lot of fun.

DARK HAD SETTLED OUTSIDE THE house when Kell Krieger and Ian Richards stepped into the basement, staring back at Clint and Mace with hard expressions. Morganna had talked to them several times, had danced with them, but the steely glints in their eyes had always had her pulling back warily. These weren't men you played with, and until Clint, Morganna hadn't been interested in any sort of relationship, especially the fully committed ones she had a feeling both men would require.

"Chief." Ian nodded his dark blond head at Clint, his brown eyes assessing.

Clint stood by the couch behind Morganna's sitting position. She had drawn her legs up, regarding the two men over her upraised knees.

"I had a feeling you were hiding out with her." Ian's hazel eyes lit with a glint of laughter. "You're trouble, woman."

Her lips twitched as she glanced up at Clint. He didn't look happy.

"I thought you didn't know them very well?" he half snarled down at her.

"I don't." She smiled. "Just enough to know to steer a wide path around them when they're hunting for a woman. They're worse than those wolves I mentioned earlier." Kell shook his head as Ian chuckled at the description.

"We checked Markwell's body before coming here," Kell told them then. "They did a number on him, Chief." Morganna blinked her eyes against her tears as she ducked her head. Clint wasn't talking about the man he had

lost; he wasn't mentioning it. He wasn't cold, but he had grown distant over the last few hours, his dark blue eyes cool and shadowed.

"Come on over here and I'll explain what's going on."

Clint led them over to the small kitchen table where the wall and surface of the table were littered with
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drawings and printouts.

She laid her arm on the back of the couch, watching the four men as they talked. For once, Clint wasn't dressed in leather. He wore jeans, boots, and a white cotton shirt. The clothes, rather than detracting from the strength of his body, emphasized it instead. Black strands of hair fell over his brow as he lowered his head. discussing the operation with the other two men; the short growth of a beard and mustache gave him a rakish, wicked look. She liked it. She had especially liked the feel of it against her skin in the tub earlier.

"Your main job is to watch her." He turned then, pointing imperiously toward Morganna as she rolled her eyes. "If you know her, then you're very well aware of the fact that she's as slippery as an eel and twice as dangerous. Fuentes' men are determined to get their hands on her. If they take her, there's going to be hell to pay. From me and Reno." He stared back at the two men fiercely. "Be sure you want to take that risk."

Kell turned and winked back at her. "We've been practicing over the last two years. I think we can keep up with her."

It would have been nice if they had informed her that they actually knew Clint and Reno. She could have managed to avoid them as well.

She caught the tightening of Clint's jaw and the flare of anger in his eyes before he hid it. A sigh slipped past her lips. Pushing him past this jealousy stuff wasn't going to be easy. It was never smart to tempt a man's beast, but in this case he'd best keep the jealousy thing under control.