Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (22 page)

“Are you crazy?” Cameron squealed. “He’s a
terrorist.”

“We haven’t confirmed he’s in Diablo,” Shadow
said.

“Wait an everloving minute.” Cameron cocked
her head to the side. “You guys are SEALs? And Sean Pirelli and the
band? And Greg?”

Shadow snickered. “Hell, no.”

“Just us,” Steele explained. “Hawke’s cover
has really given us one helluva wild ride. The band is really a
band. And just like a real diva, Hawke has a manager and people.
The only difference is they don’t know anything about us or that
Hawke is a SEAL.”

“And it needs to stay that way. The mission
is top secret and now a matter of life and death.”

Max braced himself for the next round.

“And you are in charge?”

Max stood his ground. “Yeah.”

“So, you’re responsible if anything happens
to Rachel?”

He knew better than to avoid an answer.
Besides, that wasn’t a question, rather a full-fledged threat.
“Something like that.” Max ran a hand across the top of his head.
“There is no doubt in my mind that Diego is in Diablo. I hate to
break up the party, but I think it would be best to reschedule your
fundraiser.”

“No.” Rachel and Cameron answered in
unison.

Max’s palm itched and he rubbed it against
his thigh.

“Hawke and I discussed this, Max.” Although
Rachel spoke softly, her determination barreled through. “I won’t
hide.”

Max glanced at the wound on her thigh, now
circled with ugly shades of red and purple. “What if it’s worse
next time?”

Rachel’s face paled and just when he prepared
to drive his point home, the mouth beside her jumped in.

“If you’re half the bodyguard you claim,
there won’t be a problem.”

Steele’s eyes resembled saucers. Shadow
inhaled a slow breath. Hawke just shook his head. And Max knew
she’d managed to push him to his limit. All that sass was too much
for one man. Except there were now four witnesses. Four witnesses
who wouldn’t hesitate to give him hell if he caved.

Very slowly, he forced his angry retort into
hibernation and then injected calm into his voice. “If I agree to
this, and I did say
if
, we do things my way.”

And of course someone had something else to
say.

The blond lioness shot him the evil eye. “If
you let her get hurt one more time, I’ll have your head on a
platter.”

Max swallowed hard. Normally, he’d write that
off as dramatic overreaction. Except one look into those incredibly
sexy, narrowed eyes told him she wasn’t issuing an idle threat.
And, it probably wasn’t his head she’d go after.

Shit
.

He glanced at Steele and Shadow, fidgeting
like school boys on their first date. His balls started to
shrivel.

Max straightened his shoulders. “Here’s how
this is going to go down. Re-schedule the event in a couple of
days. We’ll use the time to review strategy and make absolutely
sure Diego knows the specifics.” He glanced at the hellcat on the
sofa. “No one, and I mean no one, leaves this house without an
escort.”

He fully expected the next challenge. “Excuse
me, Sergeant Slaughter, but I have clients to see.”

“Uh, Captain.” Steele finally spoke. ““I
could go with her.”

Max clenched down on his back teeth so hard
he almost bit his tongue.
Damn, damn, damn, just … damn.
Whether it was desperation to shut her up or pure stupidity, Max
issued his final ultimatum. “I’ll go with you.”

He glanced back at Rachel. “Does anyone know
about this?”

“Just the fire department and the fundraising
committee as far as I know. We agreed to keep it as quiet as we
could. No one expects Hawke to be there.”

Max ignored the sinking feeling in his gut.
Hopefully Hawke knew what the hell he was getting them all into.
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

In the corner of the Diablo firehouse garage,
Hawke stood braced against a fire pole surrounded by Shadow, Max,
and Steele, watching the action behind tinted lenses and wondering
why the hell he’d been so agreeable. The area appeared to be
perfectly safe for the event. The two largest fire engines, both
ladder trucks, had been parked side by side directly in front of
the garage. This kept wandering eyes, or cameras, out and provided
a discreet photography back drop. Diablo Police Department officers
stood guard outside the area. Swat team snipers lined the tops of
adjacent buildings. Though the whole operation reeked of military
genius, Hawke knew that if Diego wanted Rachel bad enough, he would
find a way to test the barriers.

Inside the perimeter however, things were a
whole lot different.

Rachel’s rich auburn hair tumbled carelessly
down her back as she tossed her head and positioned the first
fireman against a freshly-waxed fire engine. He watched through
narrow eyes as her dancing fingertips filled the ridges of the
man’s sculpted muscles with oil. Hawke released a long sigh. He had
no other choice but to size up the competition with pained
tolerance. The whole place was thick with testosterone and it was
directed at his woman. Even if she was totally pissed off at him
right now, she was still his.

Hawke peeled his eyes off Rachel long enough
to glance at Max. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Hawke, we can’t keep the
media out for long. I give it an hour tops.”

“Maybe it won’t take that long.”

Max rubbed the back of his neck. “Tell me why
we’re here again.”

“Moral support,” Hawke mumbled.

“Damn.” Shadow whistled low under his breath.
“How much oil does he need?”

Hawke lifted his sunglasses and tossed Shadow
a menacing stare.

“At least she’s safe,” Steele added.

“Steele,” Max growled, “you’re not
helping.”

Hawke stiffened as Rachel ran her hands over
her victim’s body for the umpteenth time.

“Mr. August,” Max reminded him.

“I remember,” Hawke spat through gritted
teeth.

Shadow chuckled. “Cameron looks happy
herself.”

“Screw you,” Max muttered.

“Okay, Rick.” Rachel lifted her hands from
Rick’s glistening skin. “Any more oil and you’ll shine brighter
than the truck.”

She positioned Rick against the steps leading
to the top of the fire truck and looped a hose around one of his
biceps. “What do you think, Cameron?”

Cameron aimed her camera at Rick. “More
abs.”

Rachel braced her hand on her hip, twisted
her lips, then pointed to his abdomen with her free hand. “Are you
tan down there?”

Rick cast an uneasy glance at Hawke. “Most of
the way.” Hawke returned a brutal and unfriendly stare.

Rachel shrugged, unsnapped Rick’s pants, and
wiggled them low on his hips.

Hawke growled low in his throat and turned
his attention to Max, who stood morbidly quiet. With his arms
crossed across his massive chest, Captain Sterling appeared deadly,
ready and willing to snap someone’s neck.

When Hawke glanced back at the truck, he
fully understood Max’s unspoken discomfort. With her signature high
heels planted six inches apart on the cement slab and slightly bent
at the waist, Cameron swiveled her hips to capture each side of
Rick’s physique and clicked several more pictures. The hem of her
short skirt bounced against the back of her thighs.

Shadow snickered beside them.

“You have something to say, Shadow?” Max
challenged.

Hawke watched Shadow’s Adam’s apple bob as he
swallowed. “No.”

“Come here, Rick.” Cameron waltzed toward the
half-naked civil servant. “I’ll hold your hose while you climb the
ladder.”

Hawke’s eyes widened. Did she mean that like
it sounded? Or was he so damn turned on by this whole thing he
heard wrong? He held his breath and looked at Max. Not a clue.

“Next victim,” Cameron sang, handing Rachel
the camera while she picked up the bottle of oil.

Rachel set down the camera and glanced at
Hawke. One look into her eyes told him exactly what he wanted to
know. She still felt the brunt of his betrayal and he was helpless
to change her mind.

Hawke released a heavy breath as she turned
her attention back to the bronzed muscle next to her. What the hell
did he hope to accomplish by this? He checked his watch, nervous as
a whore in church about how this mission would play out.

Cameron tilted her head to one side and
glanced at Max. “We’re short a month.”

Max shifted his weight. “In your dreams.”

“Too hot out here for you?”

Max gave his head a slight nod. “Something
like that.”

She shrugged and glanced at Steele. “What
about you, Brett?”

Hawke expected Steele to oblige but one
sideways look from Max changed that. “No thanks, Cameron.”

Cameron headed back to the fire trucks and
then stopped to cast a catty smile over her shoulder at Max.
“Wuss.”

Before Hawke or anyone else could react to
Cameron’s challenge, tires screeched against the heated pavement
and doors slammed in the quiet afternoon. Flashes of light bounced
off the fire trucks. Policemen barked orders through bullhorns.

“Cat’s out of the bag,” Max drawled.

Shadow frowned. “Did Huntington call in a
press release?”

Hawke shook his head. “No. Are you sure it’s
media?”

Shadow left the area and crawled the ladder
of one of the trucks. After hesitating only a few seconds at the
top, he climbed down and returned. “A whole shitload of news vans
out there.”

“Rachel.” Max signaled for her to come
closer. She handed the camera to Cameron and stepped next to Hawke.
“You and Hawke talk to them out front. Keep it brief. If Diego
makes a move, he only needs a few seconds.”

Rachel paled and Hawke prepared to scoop her
from the pavement. Instead, she cleared her throat and nodded.

Max looked back at Hawke. “Snipers at ten and
two,” he continued. “He’ll have to dance to get a clear shot. I’ll
be on your ass. If he wants in, he’ll have to come through the
blockade.”

Hawke glanced at Rachel. Her fingers shook as
she tucked her hair behind her ears. “You sure you’re still mad
enough to do this?”

Daggers flew from her emerald gaze as she
answered. “Of course.”

Hawke balled his fists until the muscles in
his fingers protested. “Let’s get this over, Max.”

All action in front of the camera stilled.
Fireman lounged against the trucks almost if they appreciated the
interruption. Even Cameron stood quiet. Hawke grasped Rachel’s
elbow and lead her around the safety of the barriers until they
stood in front of the crowd.

Hawke painted on an undercover smile as he
glanced around the area. Reporters thrust microphones in his face
and fired questions as cameramen shouldered their equipment and
rolled tape.

Where are you, you son-of-a-bitch?

Hawke took a calming breath and wrapped a
hand low on Rachel’s waist. “Rachel is responsible for this event,
ladies and gentlemen. She can answer your questions much better
than I.”

Rachel gave him a small smile then turned to
address a reporter in front. Hawke listened to Rachel’s soft, silky
voice in one ear and kept his other one trained on the activity
around them. Considering the media circus, no one seemed out of
place. And true to Captain Sterling’s word, snipers waited on
rooftops, scopes trained on the area.

And then someone had to screw the plan.

Hawke smelled her before he caught a glimpse
of her ducking under the yellow tape in front of the crowd.
Perfume, strong and sickening sweet, assaulted his nostrils until
his eyes watered. He glanced at Max. Max raised a hand to one ear
and spoke in a low, almost inaudible tone. “Stand down.”

Max took two steps to the left and snatched
Monica Kensington by the elbow. Her eyes widened when Max whispered
something in her ear.

Hawke turned back to Rachel and waited for
her to finish speaking before he squeezed her to his side. “And now
we have to get back to the shoot. Thank you.”

He hustled Rachel back behind the fire trucks
before he finally breathed a sigh of relief. Three seconds later,
Cameron sunk her claws into Monica before either he or Max could
get a word in.

“Care to explain why you slithered in here,
Monica?”

“No reason.” Monica tossed her head. “I was
driving by and wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Cameron narrowed her eyes. “More like you
wanted to see if you could take credit for this.”

“Now, now Cameron dear, you mustn’t be so
suspicious. I thought I might be able to help with the media.”

“So helpful you ducked right under the tape,”
Cameron drawled.

Hawke raised his eyebrows. Pretty smart
chick. Obviously, Cameron knew Monica’s m.o.

Rachel released a sigh and placed a hand on
Cameron’s forearm. “We appreciate your concern, Monica, but as you
can see, Cameron and I have everything under control.”

Monica sneered. “Are you sure? You know the
wealth of my influence.”

Although Rachel didn’t advertise it, Hawke
didn’t miss the sarcasm laced in her response. “I’m well aware of
your professional recognition but we’re doing just fine.”

“I—”

“Monica, give it a rest already.” Cameron
snorted. “We don’t need you.”

Hawke bit his lip and glanced at Max.

“C’mon.” Max dragged Monica by the elbow to
the back door of the garage. “Out.”

Monica’s shrill voice echoed off the walls
until the door slammed.

“Good riddance,” Rachel mumbled.

Hawke smirked. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Did you see him?”

“Nobody looked suspicious.”

“You were supposed to catch him,” Cameron
hissed.

Max slipped in behind her. “It’s not that
easy, short stuff.”

Cameron squealed and spun to face him. “Good
grief! You’re awfully quiet for such a big guy.”