#2 Dangerous Games (8 page)

"Go figure," Clint muttered in return. "He wouldn't be available for a quick chat, would he? Just to make sure he's still living and all."

Uh-huh, she believed that one.

"Is anyone dead?" she asked suspiciously.

"No," Clint drawled carefully.

"Then you can't talk to him. Every time you've called him in the past six months he's gone running out of the house and hasn't returned for hours. It's my honeymoon. I am not coming home." And she wasn't going to let Reno make Morganna's life hell right now.

Raven didn't exactly agree with her friend's decision when she joined the Law Enforcement Academy without telling Reno, but she supported her. Morganna needed an identity outside her brother, a life of her own, and if that was the life she chose for herself, then she had the right to live it.

Clint's voice hardened over the line. "I'm not a fool, sweetheart. I know you're blocking my calls to Reno. You know I'll get there eventually."

"Clint..." She bit her lip before sighing deeply. "We've all left Morganna. She's alone now; you can't expect her to live her life in a way that's comfortable for the rest of us. If you can't help her, and if she needs us, then she'll let me know and I'll tell Reno."

She could feel Clint's fury rolling over the phone line now.

"She's going to get her ass killed, Raven. Some bastard nearly ran her over for her efforts in whatever the hell she's involved in."

Raven's heart thickened in her chest. "Is she okay?"

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"Do you care?"

"Don't give me that, Clinton McIntyre," she hissed. "How many times have you been shot that I don't know about? How many times was Reno hurt that Morganna and I were never informed of? Don't you try to guilt me; just tell me if she's okay."

"She's fine," he snapped. "Now put Reno on the phone."

"No."

"No?" Male outrage filled his voice. "Raven, don't make me fly out there."

"And if you fly out here, who's going to watch Morganna?" she pointed out. "If you think she needs protection, then protect her. Stop whining to Reno over everything. You just do it so you can avoid her, which really doesn't make sense. If you don't care anything for her, then why care what the hell she's doing?"

Raven was sick of watching her friend eat her heart out over Clint's stupid male pride. Morganna loved Clint until nothing or no one else would do, and despite Clint's frozen seeming disregard, he did care. If he didn't, he wouldn't take such pleasure in driving Reno crazy every time he thought she was doing something wrong.

"Raven, this isn't a game." His voice roughened with his anger. "She's going to get killed."

"And you can't help her?" Was she wrong about him? "Do you really have to worry Reno to the point that I have to cancel my honeymoon because you can't do what Reno would do? Reno would have protected me. He wouldn't have called you home, Clint."

"Reno loved you, Raven." He sighed. "He always has. There's a difference."

"And you don't love Morganna? Even a little, Clint? Enough to give her just a little of what you would give a total stranger if you were on a mission? What happened to you, Clint, that you hate her so much?"

"I don't hate her." He ground the words through the phone line.

No, he didn't hate Morganna, and Raven knew it. Just as she once had, he was fighting everything he felt, everything he wanted. Reno had broken through that fight, though, and it made her realize how much she was missing out on by missing out on him. She thanked God every day that he had done so.

"Reno will jerk her to a safe house, and he'll stand guard over her like the terrified brother he'll be," she murmured.

"Hell yeah," Clint snapped. "Why do you think I'm calling?"

"And in doing so, he'll alienate his sister forever, taking the last tie she has to a family. She'll never forgive him, Clint. And she'll never forgive you if you do it, either. Please don't hurt her like that. Don't steal her dreams, Clint."

"Party girls shouldn't play grown-up games," he snarled. "She isn't experienced enough for this."

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"And you know Morganna now about as well as you knew her when she was a teenager," Raven said sadly. "Why not try looking past the makeup and pretty clothes, brother mine? You might be surprised at what you find."

As the shower shut off, she disconnected the phone and tucked it back in her purse, then she breathed in a hard, desperate breath. God, if anything happened to Morganna, Reno would never, ever forgive her.

Morganna was the last family tie he had left, and he worshipped his sister. Raged at her sometimes, rarely understood her, but he loved her, as only an older brother could.

And Raven knew she would never forgive herself, either. Morganna was the closest thing to a sister that Raven had ever known. If anything happened to Morganna, Raven would always know that by telling her husband the truth she could have saved her.

"Raven?" She jerked as Reno's voice, soft, inquiring, spoke behind her.

She turned to him, amazed anew at the man who was now her husband. She had sworn she would never marry a SEAL, that she would never trust her heart to a man in such a dangerous profession. He had changed her mind. He had shown her how much, she truly did need him. For as long as she could hold him.

"That was fast." She tightened the belt of her robe and walked into his arms, feeling the strength and hardness of his arms enfolding her.

"I missed you in there with me. What was so important out here?"

"Checking up on my brother." She hid her face against his chest. "Making sure he wasn't causing any trouble."

"And is he?" His voice was gentle, curious. Suspicious.

"About normal." Her arms twined around his neck as her lips pressed against his chest. "And it's my honeymoon. He's not allowed to ruin my honeymoon."

"No one is allowed to rain your honeymoon." He kissed her head gently. "But you know, Raven, sometimes your husband isn't as thickheaded as you think he might be."

She stilled in his arms.

"I've known about Morganna since she joined the Academy," he whispered at Raven's ear. "And unbeknownst to both of you, I attended her graduation and watched her take that diploma with pride.

And, sweet wife, I am receiving regular updates on her progress."

She jerked back, narrowing her eyes before slapping at his bare arm and baring her teeth at him furiously.

He laughed, concern lurking behind the amusement in his gaze.

"Don't worry." He winked. "I promise not to let Clint get hold of me for a while. Okay?"

'That is so mean." She pouted. "I can't believe you hid this from me."

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"You hid it from me," he pointed out. "I'm just sick of watching you worry about her on our honeymoon." Then he sobered, his eyes darkening in worry. "I know she grew up, Raven, and I know she has to make a life for herself. I'll head home if she needs me, but as long as Clint's there, she's safe."

Now Raven just prayed Clint didn't break her friend's heart and that he realized how easy it would be to do just that.

Reno pulled her back into his arms, controlling her struggles as his erection pressed against her stomach, firing her arousal.

"Now come here, wife. Let's enjoy our honeymoon."

JOE MERINO PULLED THE BLACK surveillance van into a parking spot within sight of Morganna's house and stared at the dimly lit upper window thoughtfully.

She was home safe and sound, no tails, no problems. So why was the hair on the back of his neck tingling? It was never a good sign.

Beside him sat the one true friend he had ever claimed and the only man he trusted with his life.

Grant Samuels was slouched in his seat, nursing a steaming cup of coffee and bleary eyes. His ever-present University of Southern Carolina baseball cap was pulled down over his eyes and his dark T-shirt stained with some painting project his wife had pulled him into months ago. And he was scowling.

This was his third night away from his comfortable matrimonial bed, and he was starting to get damned cranky.

A cranky Grant wasn't anyone's idea of a fun time, either.

Even his best friend's. ,

"Think he'll do it?" Grant finally mumbled as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips again.

Grant was as addicted to his coffee as he was to his wife.

"He'll do it."

"What makes you think so?" Grant yawned through the question.

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Joe stared back at the house, seeing the slender female shadow as it passed by the curtains in the living room before the lights flipped out. He was going to have to mention windows and shadows before some son of a bitch put a bead on her through that window.

"She's his weakness." He nodded to the house. "Every woman he's had in the last five years resembles her. She's not going to obey him like a good little girl, no matter how much he wishes she would. She'll defy him, and then he won't have a choice."

Joe understood that kind of weakness; he could even respect it in a pitying sort of way. When a man loved a woman like that, then the betrayal, if and when it came, ripped his soul apart.

"He has a strange way of showing it," Grant muttered. "And he's not the smartest good ole boy I ever met, Joe. You don't piss a woman-off like that; she'll cut your balls off for it. And she's crazy about him. I swear I heard her heart break when he talked about working with another woman."

Yeah, Grant, poor sap that he was, had kept his eyes lowered, his expression filled with sympathy, as Clint pushed the girl. Grant had actually muttered an "amen" when she stalked from the apartment.

"She reminded me of Maggie," Grant sighed. "Full of fire."

Joe grunted absently, watching the house. Clint McIntyre was one hard-ass. He was one of the regulars at the upper-scale bondage clubs and well-known for his extreme tastes in sex. Spanking, toys, butt fucking. He was good to the women, but he pushed them, pushed the limits of their sexuality as well as their endurance.

Some of the women he'd had in the last few years said he could fuck for hours without breaking pace and then start again with only a light nap. Hell, Joe hadn't done that since he was eighteen. McIntyre's testosterone level must be off the damned charts. That or he was trying to screw a hunger out of his system that wouldn't die. Joe understood that one. He understood that one too well.

"So why are we here?" Grant shifted in his seat, working to get more comfortable. "Clint's in the back watching the house, and I can't see where we're needed."

"That attempted hit bothers me, man," Joe finally admitted. "Her cover couldn't have been cracked. No way in hell."

"There's never no way in hell," Grant pointed out wearily. "Anything's possible."

Yeah, no shit. It wasn't something Joe should have forgotten. Hell, he hadn't forgotten; that was why Grant was here missing out on his wife and bitching over it. Joe didn't have the same trust in the others.

Joe shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this one, brother. A bad feeling all the way around."

"Not good," Grant muttered.

No, it wasn't good. Joe lived his life by his gut; he always had. It was one of the reasons he'd left the SEALs, one of the reasons he'd taken command of this task force.

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"So why are we here?" Grant asked again. "I could be curled around my Maggie, sleeping peacefully, Joe. McIntyre ain't stupid. He'll watch her tonight."

That was Joe's intention. Clint needed time to assess the situation, to think about things awhile without interference. If that hit was against Morganna and another came too soon, then he'd jerk her out of the assignment and cart her off gagged and bound. Joe couldn't afford that. He needed the other man in this assignment fast.

"We'll help him watch her awhile," Joe murmured. "You can sleep tomorrow."

"Man, Maggie ain't in the bed through the day. You suck, Joe," Grant griped.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Grant was missing one pitiful night with his wife. So what? Joe was missing every night with his.

"If I were that mean-assed SEAL, I'd cart little Morganna off as hard and fast as possible and tell you to kiss my ass," Grant continued. "What makes you think he won't?"

"She won't let him." A tight smile curved Joe's lips. "She's had a taste of adrenaline, Grant. A taste of danger. She likes it. She likes it real well. And she's damned good at the job."

He knew the signs, knew the fire that burned in the eyes and in the soul. It made her careful, but it pushed her, made her eager for the job. Given a few more years, a little balance and experience, she would be a damned good agent.

"You're a bastard, Joe," Grant accused, his voice low, sad. "You've really sunk, man. You knew what you were doing when you let her come in, didn't you?"

"Did I know McIntyre would follow?" he asked knowingly. "Yeah, I knew. Just like I made sure she was in the right place at the right time when I needed him. I'm good like that." Maneuvering it had been a bitch, though.

"You're evil like that." It wasn't a compliment. "He'll kill you if he finds out."

"So?" If McIntyre found it, then it meant the operation had been completed successfully. That was all that mattered. Nothing mattered but the mission.

"You scare me sometimes, buddy," Grant whispered. "Sometimes you really, really scare me."

"I'll watch your ass." That one was a given. Always.

"I'll watch yours," Grant promised. "But, brother, one day, payback is gonna be hell."

Joe was already paying.

MORGANNA SAW THE SHIMMER OF color just beneath the awning of the small shed out back and knew that Clint was parked there. He was watching over her. A sad smile reflected in the window as
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