Flirting with Danger (6 page)

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Jack watched the show Skye put on as she dried her body off from their shower with a big, fluffy towel. Never in his life had he come three times in such a short time. Something about Skye drew him. He wondered if he truly would follow wherever the sultry woman led.

She ran a finger through her short brown curls. They spiralled in every direction and he knew now for himself just how soft they were. Her warm blue eyes shone at him as she grinned. This woman clearly knew exactly how alluring she was to him.

He wanted her on every conceivable level. Physically, emotionally, intellectually and with a fierce passion that burned deep in his soul. Now he’d finally met her, come to know her a little, he didn’t think he could let her go. He should have known any daughter of Victor Adams would be a complex mixture and utterly addictive.

A part of him understood they both flirted with danger by entertaining the wicked fantasies that overwhelmed his brain. Victor was not a man to cross, and, despite his placid façade, contrary to his cool, calm demeanour, he could strike like a viper and was the epitome of protective when it came to his only child.

Skye, on the other hand, did not seem to understand how dangerous this entire situation could become without any notice. Yet still Jack found himself drawn to her. Classic moth-to-a-flame situation. Jack only hoped neither of them found themselves singed.

Skye grinned at him, her pale flesh flushed from the heat of her shower, her curls framing her face, her eyes warm and filled with amused hunger. He loved how the colour in them deepened when she found her pinnacle with him. Jack was insatiable when it came to this beautiful woman.

She was the kind of woman Jack found himself willing to die to protect.

Nothing else mattered.

“You might find this hard to believe, but I’m needing to remind myself just how important it is we make it to Tank’s tonight,” Skye laughed. “I’m not usually so easily distracted by a sexy man, though I know my actions haven’t proven so in the last few hours.”

Jack reached out a hand to stroke along the soft curve of her cheek. She grinned impishly at him, charming him and heating his blood. His exhausted cock still managed to twitch in lusty interest. For the first time since he’d met her, Jack ignored his prick’s instincts and forced himself to focus. Their lives—Skye’s life—relied on his attention to what went on around them now.

“I’ve never been so instantly attracted to anyone, darling,” he assured her as he stroked her delicate skin. “Considering the circumstances, I think we’ve both just been overcome. This isn’t your usual scenario, so we can’t apply the normal rules.”

Skye leaned her face into his palm, studied him with shining eyes and grinned at him. Jack felt his heart leap. He knew it was impossibly fast, but his certainty was unshakeable. He loved this woman fiercely.

“You make even the insanity of this afternoon feel natural, good. How do people like you and my father manage to do that?”

In that moment she reminded him of a pixie. Innocent, sensual and with a naughty sense of humour he couldn’t resist.

“I’m insatiable when it comes to you,” he chuckled. Leaning in, they kissed now with the languid comfort of two people who knew they had a long time to indulge themselves. The heated rush of their first few couplings had passed and now they were enjoying the time they’d been granted, exploring one another on every level.

Reluctantly, Jack pulled away from the woman who held his heart.

“If I don’t get dressed we’ll never make it. Despite your words, I know you feel the need to see whatever it is Tank is protecting for your father. Take your time getting ready, though. I know better than to rush a lady.”

She was laughing, clearly amused as he forced himself to leave the bathroom and enter his bedroom. Pulling on briefs, black jeans, a dark navy blue sweater and his boots, Jack opened his closet and removed the false floor. Twisting in the combination to his gun safe, he opened the door and perused its contents.

Jack preferred sleek handguns to the bulky, unwieldy kind—he always had. Discretion was always his first choice, destruction his second. As a PI it had served him well and those professionals whom he respected and liked—Victor Adams, for example—usually held a similar outlook. Enormous, flashy guns were more the style of weapon he found amateurs, or worse—insecure—people preferred.

If your enemy didn’t know you had a weapon until it was too late, success was that much easier. Waving around a hand-cannon and blustering, or attempting to intimidate, all too often resulted in you ending up six feet under. Jack never underestimated the elements of surprise and discretion.

This time, however, with the scent of Skye still in his nostrils, the taste of her on his tongue and his body sated, his eyes were drawn to the small calibre, compact lady’s gun he’d purchased on a whim a few years earlier. He’d seen it at one of the stalls at a showing. The slick salesman had struck a nerve with the comment about how a man could never over-protect his lady.

It had spoken to something deep within his soul, that comment. He believed it with every fibre of his being. Skye—her father’s daughter in more ways than she could see—was not some weak, defenceless damsel, despite her fear and reaction at what she had witnessed earlier in the day.

He had a feeling she didn’t recognise or appreciate the strength and courage she had shown at the Thai restaurant. She had not frozen, or fallen apart. She hadn’t dissolved into hysterics or wept and clung to the agents who had been present. She had stood firm against her fear and while, yes, she had been shaken, she had also turned back to protect virtual strangers. She had thought coherently enough to contact him—for which he would be eternally grateful—and she had a steely determination when she spoke of rescuing her father.

The flinty look in her beautiful eyes showed that nothing would deter her from her chosen course of action. Jack could only hope she knew how to shoot a gun. He couldn’t imagine Victor not teaching her, but then Jack could also imagine the lengths the man would go to in sheltering his daughter. The thought of one day his own little girl needing a gun to defend herself turned Jack’s blood to ice.

A little girl, with blonde or brown corkscrew curls like Skye’s, that cheeky little-girl grin. The thought of such a precious soul being trapped in a situation like the one he now found himself in with Skye was enough to chill him to his core. He’d want his child to be able to protect herself. Oh yeah, it might have frozen Victor to think it could be required one day, but Jack would bet everything he owned that Victor would have trained his daughter in the use of a hand weapon.

Jack pulled out his favourite gun, checked it and then grabbed the small lady’s pistol with his other hand.

“I’ve never seen a man so intent on the floor of his closet.” An amused chuckle came from behind him.

“Just accessorising. I presume you can shoot?” Jack turned around and grinned at his lover, as he held up both guns.

“My father insisted.” She wrinkled her nose in seeming distaste. “Until we discovered we both loved good food, it was our only father-daughter time. Mandatory ever since I learned the truth of what he does.”

Jack handed her the smaller gun and she gingerly took it. He could tell from the manner in which she held the weapon that she knew about guns, but either didn’t like them or didn’t yet feel comfortable around them. She checked it with a staggering efficiency that showed better than words how thoroughly Victor had trained his daughter.

When she held it out to him to return it, instinct stirred within him. Jack shook his head.

“No. Keep it. It’s yours now.”

“But this is a good piece,” she insisted, sounding surprised. “It’s well weighted, light but sturdy and is the perfect backup. You can’t just give it away.”

“It’s mine, of course I can just give it away. I want you to have it. I can’t tell why, but I get the feeling it’s already yours. It’s perfect for you and, let’s face it, right now you need one. We can argue about it another time. For now, please, it’s yours.”

Skye knelt on the carpet beside him, her free hand resting on his shoulder for balance. She leaned in and they shared a heated, searching kiss. When she pulled back she smiled, seeming bemused.

“You know, after the first date most guys give a girl flowers, maybe even a necklace or something. I’ve never been given a destructive weapon before.”

Jack ginned lopsidedly.

“Think about it, your father would approve, too. Especially considering the circumstances.”

Laughter gurgled from her, the sound light and cheerful in the early evening gloom.

“Very true. I’ve never dated to appease my father, though. I must admit it’s nice to think he won’t be able to run you off.”

“Not a chance, darling,” Jack snorted.

Jack relocked the safe and stood up. They returned to the living room. He watched as Skye checked the safety then placed the gun in her handbag. After a last series of checks he slid his own gun securely into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back.

“I don’t think there will be trouble at Tank’s,” he insisted, “but I’ve learned the hard way to always be prepared.”

Skye drew her bag strap over her shoulder and ran a hand through her soft curls once again. Jack had to resist the urge to reach out and tug the silky strands. He frowned, a thought crossing his mind briefly.

“You should call your landlord, or maybe a neighbour,” he suggested. “It might be wise to check you haven’t received any packages from your father. We’ll look stupid if he actually sent whatever needs to be kept hidden to you before he left to return to London. Since the card he sent me arrived in today’s mail, it’s possible a box or parcel arrived for you today, too.”

“Why would he send us to Tank’s if he sent me the item he wants to keep safe?” Skye asked as she crinkled her brow, appearing thoughtful.

Jack shrugged his shoulder and kept his initial thoughts to himself. Should Victor have known he was in trouble, it was possible he wanted to warn Jack of the danger to his daughter. If he had money, passports or other useful items stashed away somewhere at Tank’s, Jack could use them to ferry Skye to safety and keep her hidden until this all blew over.

That plan, however, would mean Victor knew his life was in danger and would strengthen the possibility that he was dead or in grievous trouble. He disliked speaking of such a pessimistic outlook to Skye.

She raised her eyebrows at him, obviously waiting for him to answer her.

“There might be something else helpful at Tank’s, not the actual item Victor is currently protecting,” Jack hedged. “Or maybe over the years there’s been a number of items Victor has kept hidden away out of the wrong hands and we’re his backup plan to ensuring they don’t fall into any terrorist’s clutches. There could be countless explanations.”

Skye looked soberly at him. Jack felt uneasy for the first time since their meeting.

“My dad could really be in danger, couldn’t he?” she spoke softly.

Jack simply nodded.

He watched silently as she took a slow breath, held it in her lungs for a moment, then seemed to gather herself. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out her mobile phone. Scrolling through the address book, she pressed a button and waited while it rang.

“Hi, Wendy, it’s Skye. Say, could you do me a favour and use the spare key I gave you? Can you check and see if a box or parcel has arrived for me? Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks, sweetie.”

After a second Skye looked at him and whispered, “She has a key to my flat—she’s just going to check if a notice has arrived in the post.”

Jack nodded. After a few minutes, Skye’s attention was riveted back to her phone.

“And no notice either? No, I just thought something might have arrived today. It’s all good, I promise. Thanks so much, Wendy, I owe you a drink.”

Skye closed her phone and replaced it in her bag.

“No parcel, no box, no notice of something waiting for me at the post office. I’m unsettled by the thought of Dad sending you that postcard now. If he was activating one of his contingency plans, he must have known how much danger he was in. He must have thought he wouldn’t come back, that he might be—”

Jack reached out and drew her into a warm embrace as her words choked off. She clung to him and despite the circumstances it felt good, right for them to find strength in each other like this. Brushing his hand over her silky curls, Jack comforted her as best he could. A minute ticked by. Skye drew in a shuddering breath, blinked her eyes hard and gave him a weak smile.

“It’s okay, I know we need to get moving. The faster we work this out, the quicker we can rescue my dad. I’m good.”

Jack stroked a finger down the soft plane of her cheek before he nodded. He picked up his keys and leather jacket.

“We’ll find him. He’s strong. Don’t worry about it, Skye.”

Jack opened the cupboard and pulled out his black, tinted bike helmet. Rummaging in the back of the shelf he found the second passenger helmet he kept as a spare. Handing it to Skye, he found her eyes still serious, but a smile tilting the corner of her mouth.

“That gorgeous black and chrome beast out front is yours?”

Jack merely grinned, not needing to say a word.

“After everything we’ve been through, you can’t convince me you’re afraid of a bike.”

“Afraid?” Skye chuckled and took his hand in hers, their fingers twining intimately together. “I can’t wait. Bring it on.”

Pride and fierce satisfaction raced through Jack’s blood at her words, the eagerness in her tone clear. He led them out into the hallway, locked his flat and brought her down to the bike. Without a hint of hesitation she straddled the back seat as he turned the key in the ignition.

His beautiful beast roared to life and he revved the engine. Skye’s slender arms wrapped around him and he felt excitement spike his adrenaline. His cock hardened in his jeans. Oh yeah, this would be one hell of a ride.

Kicking the stand back, he revved the engine again and pulled out on to the road. Skye cheered in evident glee. They raced away down the street.