Flirting with Danger (4 page)

Sexual chemistry, thick and potent, weighed in the air between them. Jack Berwick, she discovered, was her own personal wet dream. A walking, talking sexual fantasy come to life. She wanted to feel those strong arms wrapped around her. She longed to have the heat from his body penetrate through her cold fear and wrap her utterly in the heat of his possessing embrace.

“Jack Berwick?” she spoke with astounding poise. Considering her knickers were getting damp, Skye felt she pulled off the civility rather well.

Jack nodded and stepped back, allowing her to enter the flat. Skye took a deep, calming breath as he shut the door behind her. The light, spicy scent from his aftershave filled her senses. She felt her stomach clench with lust. Trying to distract herself, she gazed around his home. Thinly furnished, the room was clean, but masculine. Without needing to enquire, she could tell no woman lived here with him.

An almost dead plant stood in the sunlight by the window, and a large plasma screen took up a lot of space along one wall with a well-worn couch and single easy chair set up clearly for Jack to relax in at the end of a day’s work. A scarred coffee table held a few pieces of what appeared to be unlooked at mail he’d clearly just tossed there, probably from habit. An overflowing bookcase finished what she believed to be the main living area.

She could see the entrance to the kitchen off to one side, and a hallway led back to where she presumed the bathroom and bedroom were. Jack’s flat was clean, utilitarian and an utter bachelor pad.

“I’ve already put the kettle on,” Jack said when her gaze met his once again. “Come sit down and tell me what the problem is.”

Skye moved to the couch as Jack indicated it with a wave of his hand. Dropping her bag to the floor by her feet, she perched on the edge of a cushion. Jack sat down on the other end of the couch, pressing a finger to his temple and watched her with seemingly endless patience. Skye let her gaze linger on his hot blue eyes for a moment, enjoying a tiny, hidden thrill at being the recipient of his sole attention.

Recalled with a jolt to the serious nature of ‘her problem’, Skye sighed and recounted what had occurred during what was supposed to have been her birthday lunch.

“My father returned from one of his missions late last night. I know that because he texted me saying he’d landed safely and confirmed our lunch date today. He’d been out of the country for my birthday earlier in the week and we were going to celebrate. Only he didn’t arrive. Garth Spenser—dad’s partner and protégé—turned up, saying he was missing, and then two other agents turned up to bring him back for questioning, and then—”

Skye cut herself off, hearing the rising tone as her words sped up. Getting a handle on herself, she paused for a second to try to recount everything coherently. A hysterical female would not be any use to Jack or her father.

“I can safely say neither my father nor I will ever get to try the cuisine at the Golden Mih Goo Wak Restaurant,” she started again. “While Garth, Katherine and Tarek were all arguing, I started to leave, but a group of four men were on the other side of the street and started taking pot shots at us. Garth and the other agents returned fire and the restaurant was pretty shot up. Garth insisted I should make a run for it, and, after a moment, I did.”

Skye paused there and swallowed. Her voice had thickened and it felt like a lump had lodged in her throat. After a moment she continued.

“That was when they pulled out a rocket launcher and… Well, you can imagine how it went from there.”

“So the others are dead?” Jack replied, his voice grim.

Skye shook her head.

“I don’t think so. I went back, called out a warning. I know Garth was escaping as the building was decimated, so I’d like to think they got away, though I can’t be sure and I don’t know how hurt they were. If they ran for it they might have got out relatively unscathed, but I was busy fleeing in the opposite direction at the time.” They were both silent for a moment. “The reason I called you, that I’m coming to you like this, is I don’t know who to trust. If my father has been kidnapped, if he’s being held hostage for something, we need to find him.”

“I’m sure the Agency—” Jack began, but Skye cut him off.

“Of course they’re looking, but they’re not solely focused on it, like I want to be. They’re bogged down in chasing after Garth and probably covering everything up like mad. I don’t care about anything except getting my dad back. Garth said… Garth said these assailants were only laying down suppressing fire. They might have been trying to flush me out before they decided a rocket launcher was a better option. Garth warned me they might try and use me as leverage against my father. If they have him, if they’re…if they’re trying to get information out of him, I would be used against him. I need to get him back, safely.”

“Tracking someone like your father down will be bloody difficult,” Jack warned her. “Though, if he’s being held against his will, at least he will use any opportunity to help us—or anyone else—looking for him. Do you know anything about the mission your father just returned from?”

“No. He did say that it was something personal, something he needed to do himself. He made it clear he wasn’t missing my birthday lightly.” Skye leant back on the couch and searched her memory for anything that might be helpful.

“I didn’t get the impression he went because he was ordered to. Dad sounded like he felt he needed to be the one to do it, whatever it was,” she finished.

“Okay,” Jack replied. His eyes glanced at the wall behind her as he appeared lost in thought. “We need to make a few assumptions to begin with. Let’s assume it’s not chance or coincidence that now is when he’s missing. This isn’t random or a fluke. It’s possible this is in relation to a long-term plan being put into place, but it doesn’t strike me as being the case.”

Skye frowned and shook her head, not following his reasoning.

“If those four men, presumably acting on behalf of your father’s current nemesis, had been given a cohesive plan which was the result of a long-term greater strategy, it would have been more convoluted—and likely more successful—than simply laying down suppressive gunshots, then when you seemingly escaped, using a rocket launcher to obliterate the restaurant and any witnesses. That’s not a finely tuned plan, that’s a by the seat of your pants reaction when things don’t go your way.”

A tiny smile twitched at the corner of Skye’s mouth. The sexy man had a good point. When she didn’t comment or question him further, he continued.

“There’s certainly also a reason they took your father and didn’t kill him outright,” he mused almost as if to himself.

Skye’s stomach lurched and she felt grateful she was sitting as a tremor ran though her legs. She pressed her lips together but nodded, not that Jack appeared conscious of her movement.

“They need something from him—they want him for some reason,” Jack continued to think aloud. “It could be anything, though. Access codes, knowledge from his mission, an item in his possession. Hmm, yes, they need something from him. That fits. But would he hide it, or is it something already in his possession?”

“If it was in Dad’s physical possession they’d have it already,” Skye answered. Jack’s eyes jolted to her and he gave her an apologetic smile.

“That’s true, so he must have hidden it.”

“But if he gave it to Garth, or someone at the Agency… No, that doesn’t make sense,” she shook her head. “They’d not be looking so hard at why this was happening, they’d be focused on retrieving my father if they knew what was going on. He can’t have sent it to Garth.”

“That means he sent it to you,” Jack replied.

Skye shook her head in disbelief.

“Not at all. I got a text from him when he landed last night, it’s true, but I haven’t received any packages from him in the last few days. Why couldn’t he have sent it to you? Or another acquaintance not associated with the Agency he felt he could trust?”

“If Victor didn’t want this to fall into the hands of the Agency then you’re the logical choice for whom he’d send it to,” Jack insisted, sounding stubborn. “There isn’t anyone—oh, of course!”

Skye couldn’t help but smile. Jack’s eyebrows rose as if a bell had sounded in his head.

“Your father once mentioned to me, if I ever had something that needed safekeeping but I didn’t or couldn’t trust a regular system, he knew of an alternative safety deposit box outlet.” Jack sat forward on the couch, exuberance clear as his hands gesticulated.

“If you’re positive Victor didn’t send anything to you, maybe he sent it to Tank. But we still don’t have the key,” Jack lamented.

Skye glanced at her watch, surprised at how quickly the afternoon had flown by. “There still should be an hour before any banks close,” she began. “If we’re quick we should be able to make it to this Tank’s store and—”

“No, no, I said alternative,” Jack interrupted with a grin. “Tank’s pub won’t open until at least seven, and the man himself might not arrive until after that. We have plenty of time.”

“Oh,” Skye replied, a little deflated. She moved back on the couch and felt her body relax for the first time in hours. “Let me get you that tea,” he insisted. “Have you eaten? If your lunch date with your father was interrupted…”

Skye’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food.

“I’m ravenous. I’ll eat anything you can give me, thank you, Jack.”

Jack stood with a small, wry smile, not unlike the one her father often gave her when he was amused by something she’d said or done but didn’t want to laugh aloud. She felt oddly comforted by Jack’s presence, intelligence and willingness to take her ideas on face value and not question everything. He paused, seemed on the verge of saying or doing something as he towered over her.

He shook his head and walked around the coffee table, picking up the mail on his way past. As he entered the small nook where she’d noticed the kitchen earlier, he sifted through the letters. Skye closed her eyes with a sigh as she heard the familiar sound of cupboards opening and closing, crockery rattling and the kettle being poured. Comforted by the normality of hearing a light snack being prepared, she let the tension seep from her body.

“Huh,” she heard Jack mutter from the kitchen. Instinctively she sat up straight and tilted her head in his direction.

“Is everything all right in there? Do you need some help?”

It wasn’t until the words fell from her lips that she flushed at how stupid the suggestion was. This was Jack’s home and his kitchen—it wasn’t likely he needed her assistance.

“This arrived in today’s mail,” Jack replied as he entered the living room and held out a postcard for her to look at. Skye took the small card from him and a grin crossed her face as she glanced at the large military tank stranded on a grassy green lawn. An unpronounceable German town name was printed on the bottom corner.

“Turn it over,” Jack suggested.

Flipping the card over, Skye’s eyes widened in shock as she recognised her father’s handwriting.

‘Found the quaintest Pub which I think you’d enjoy. You should see the gorgeous Sky line over the hills. You’d be amazed at the discoveries I’ve made. Victor’.

She reread the few sentences, only partially aware of Jack returning to the kitchen. A minute later he placed a plate and a mug of steaming hot tea on the coffee table near her knees.

“So Dad sent you the message of where to get his package?” Skye surmised. “You said the owner’s name was Tank, hence this particular card. Then the capitalised mention of both the pub and the sky.”

“I can think of a few possibilities. Maybe he knew something would happen—though not when or what—and he’s reminding me of my promise to help if you ever called. Or perhaps you still know more than you think you do and I’ll need you when we get to Tank’s.”

Skye reached out and grabbed one half of the sandwich he’d placed before her. A quick glance showed her it was filled with ham, cheese and tomato. She took a few bites in quick succession. Nothing had tasted this good in ages.

“I’m still not sold on the thought that I know anything the least bit useful.” Skye returned to their conversation after inhaling half the sandwich. She sipped her tea before picking up the second half.

“What I wouldn’t put past my father is him pointing you in my direction to make sure I’m protected while whatever he’s involved in unravels. That kind of convoluted, near-paranoid level of obsessive planning sounds exactly like the Victor Adams I know and love.”

“I think you underestimate yourself.” Jack sat down next to her on the couch. “You know how your father thinks, how he would react in certain circumstances. That closeness could be vital to his rescue. More importantly, you have no idea how some subtle, previously believed inconsequential word, gesture or casual reference Victor spoke of weeks or even months ago might be instrumental in solving this thing. All I can guarantee is that I don’t plan to let you out of my sight until I deliver you back into your father’s safekeeping.”

Skye wiped at her mouth to be certain no crumbs lingered on her lips. Swallowing more of the tea, she replaced the mug on the coffee table with a small sigh, her stomach sated. She turned to face Jack and once again her heart fluttered in her chest.

He was so handsome.

“I’m not a lost schoolgirl who needs returning to her parent,” Skye chided him. “But I would definitely like to stick close to you. At least until the vision of that rocket launcher and those four men dims somewhat in my memory. Right now, it’s far too vivid for comfort.”

“Hey,” Jack said softly. He leant forward and rested one large, warm hand on her thigh. Heat from his skin soaked through her leg. Skye caught her breath, her gaze lifting to catch his.

Chemistry burned between them as they stared at each other in silence.

Skye lowered her hand to lace her fingers through his, testing the waters between them. His fingers clenched hers, his grip tight but not painful. For a suspended moment she felt as if they were hovering on the brink of an enormous, sheer drop. They leaned in and their lips touched.

The world ignited, her ears rang and Skye felt as if she had just been electrocuted.