Live Wire (43 page)

“Senator Stanton has been on the phone with Elite Ops Command,” she said, her voice quiet as she spoke of the shadowed group that governed the private multinational group they had been a part of. “He’s trying to get a team out here to back you.”

Jordan shook his head. “We have the backup team, Tehya. I don’t need, nor do I want an Elite Ops team on this.”

Hell, this was just what he needed, having his plans hijacked by a team that would do nothing more than clutter up the protection he’d placed around Tehya.

“Perhaps you should talk to him then,” she suggested, the noncommittal tone of her voice causing him to wince.

That was the tone she adopted when she knew he wasn’t telling her everything. When she knew he had one of his backup plans in progress and hadn’t told her or the team.

“Perhaps,” he answered as he frowned up at the ceiling. “The thing about the senator is that if I tell him to pull back, then, like you, he’s going to know there’s more going on than he’s aware of. And the senator being the senator, he is going to apprise the committee. Then they’re going to get their heads together and attempt to lay insurance that their ass is covered, forgetting in the process that I’m rather good at covering
all
our asses.”

She was silent for long moments before he felt her breath whisper over his chest.

“Tell me who you saw, Jordan.”

Keeping it from her wasn’t fair. She deserved to know, but hell if he wanted to see the shadows in her eyes after he told her.

“Jordan?” Tension filled the room, as did the memory of the girl he had met eight years before.

Eyes too big for her pale face. Hair that had been darkened from its natural color. And in those eyes, he had seen the fear, the courage, and the hopelessness she had begun feeling.

“It was Ascarti, Tehya. It was Gregor Ascarti.”

C
HAPTER
18

Gregor Ascarti.

He was a child’s bogeyman. He was the voice from the dark whispering her name with vicious amusement.

Come out, come out wherever you are, little girl. Daddy’s waiting. But first Uncle Gregor gets a sweet taste of you …
and then laughter. That evil, demonic sound that she remembered echoing through her head as Boyd covered her mouth with his large hand, covered her young body with his own, and fought to protect her the only way he knew how.

The night they had been forced to run, they had nearly been caught. Tehya had been only twelve, gangly, always nervous, always certain the bogeyman was going to catch up with her.

That night, he had caught up with her, but Boyd had protected her. Less than three months later, Boyd had been dead, too.

Gregor was supposed to be dead.

For too long she had lived under the illusion of safety. And she was tired of the illusion. The weariness clawed at her, dragging her down, and reminding her, always reminding her like a sadistic whisper of evil in her head, that it would never be over. That she would never be free. That loving Jordan was the same as signing his death warrant.

She’d felt this in Aruba. That heavy, panicked uncertainty. The knowledge that either freedom or death was just a heartbeat away.

“Answers aren’t going to pop out of the shrubbery.” Jordan stepped into the bedroom, his expression a dark mix of both hunger and chilling danger.

He was a hunter, and he’d perfected the hunt. He was waiting, patient, composed, giving his prey the perfect opportunity and the time needed to make their move.

But the prey was cunning, it was evil, and it had taken the lives of other strong men, men born to the hunt. Men who had thought they could protect her.

Slowly, the sage green coverings slid over the windows, enclosing them in a dimmer, sun-dappled room rather than the previous heated warmth that had spilled in.

“Have you learned anything?” She knew the others, Noah, Micah, Travis, John, and Nik were out plotting Gregor Ascarti’s downfall. It couldn’t come soon enough to suit her.

“We’ve contacted the appropriate parties and given them the location of the weapons.” He checked his watch before his gaze lifted once more, sharp satisfaction filling it. “They should be hitting the warehouse any moment now.”

“We have to find him to neutralize him, Jordan.”

“No, our men have to find him,” he retorted. “All you have to do is look very pretty, and very grief-stricken tonight at the party. Once he’s certain I’m out of the picture, he’ll plan his strike. That’s when we’ll have him, if we don’t catch him at the warehouse.”

Ascarti would never allow himself to be caught in that warehouse.

“Ascarti isn’t that easy.” She gave a hard shake of her head. “You should know that by now.”

She knew it. She had fought to survive his search for her for far too long to consider him so easy to catch, to even allow herself to hope he would be so sloppy.

“I’m aware of that, Tehya,” he growled. “I’m simply that prepared. There’s no way he can strike without us catching him. There are too many eyes waiting and watching.”

Tehya crossed her arms over her breasts, her gaze narrowing on the windows despite the fact that shutters now covered them.

Turning back to him slowly, she tried to ignore the heat that lingered in his eyes, the pure sensual, sexual interest in his expression as his gaze went over her, from head to toe.

“What do you have planned, Jordan?” He hadn’t told her what he had set up yet. She knew he had been with Noah, Kell Krieger, and the senator for most of the morning, but she hadn’t been invited to the plotting session. It had begun before she had ever awakened.

“The plan is exactly as it was.” He gave a faint shrug of heavy shoulders beneath the dark gray shirt he wore tucked into jeans. “We wait.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. That so didn’t sound like Jordan, to simply sit and wait and watch.

“I’m not lying to you, sweetheart.” Once again that faint smile crossed his lips. “There are times when nothing else but simplicity will do. This is one of those times.” Then his head tilted to the side as curiosity lit his gaze. “Tey, darling, isn’t that the same outfit that little old Indian trader in New Mexico made for you? The one with all the hidden weapons?”

Her brows arched. He remembered? She was certain he hadn’t been paying attention the day she had ordered the clothing. The shopping trip had been a treat during the early days of her contract with the Elite Ops.

She had been frightened to leave base during those days, terrified she would be followed somehow. Jordan and Noah, along with the communication agent, Kira Richards, and her husband Ian, had all but ordered Tehya with them for a shopping trip, supposedly funded by the Ops to outfit her in more than the worn clothing she’d owned. She’d learned later that Jordan himself had paid for her clothes.

“It is.” Her heart began to race. That something so small as the knowledge that he remembered that day should excite her, she decided, was truly pitiful.

He stepped closer, a predatory male animal suddenly shifting into stalking mode, his expression tightening with lust, his gaze blazing with hunger.

“I shouldn’t want you again so soon,” he growled as he stepped in front of her, the backs of his fingers whispering over the leather that covered one breast. “But I swear, Tehya, the sight of you wearing leather and the knowledge that you could kill a man before he drew his next breath has my dick harder than hell.”

And her pussy was creaming. Tehya could feel it, hot and moist, her juices saturating her cunt and preparing her for him.

“We could take a long break for lunch,” she suggested, as the other hand curved around her back and drew her flush against his body.

“If I get you back in that bed there’s no way in hell I’d go for the quickie it would have to be.” His head lowered, but rather than the kiss she needed, all she received was a sensual nip to her lips. “When this is over, though, I’m taking you to a beach somewhere and I’m keeping you naked for a month. Naked and covering my body like a second skin.”

The hard wedge of his cock pressed against her lower stomach as she tried to keep back the low moan of rising need surging inside her.

Laying her head against his chest and feeling his arms surround her, she wished there was a way to delay it, just for a little while longer. She would pay whatever price she needed to pay, kill whomever she needed to kill, for just a few more hours of security in his arms.

“When this is over,” she repeated, her voice soft, her arms tightening around his waist as she felt that cold hard kernel of fatalistic knowledge harden inside her soul.

It would never be over until her own death.

“It will be over soon, baby,” he promised as she pulled back.

Staring up at him, she realized the past eight years had only been the road to bring her here. She had been hiding, and a part of her had known it, just as she had known there would be a price to pay for it later.

“I love you, Jordan,” she whispered before he could keep her from voicing the promise. “You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to keep me. Just always know, if I had known what was coming, I would have made certain I hid better. I would have kept this from happening.…”

“God, Tehya.” His fingers were against her lips before she could finish the hastily whispered words. “Son of a bitch, baby, do you think in a million fucking years that I would even consider letting you face this alone? Do you think, Tehya, that I, or the others, weren’t watching for a threat against you? That we weren’t doing everything we could to ensure we were here if you needed us? Do you believe, for even a second, damn you, that I could have ever totally let you go?”

Frustrated anger, surprise, and a hint of amazement filled his voice now.

Jordan stared down at the little imp that had both tormented and comforted him for the past eight years. So delicate and tiny, he swore a good strong breeze could knock her over. She had a backbone of pure titanium, though, and a will that often amazed him.

“Teyha,” he chided, his voice softening as he allowed himself the luxury of running the backs of his fingers down the side of her silken cheek. “I’m not a fool. I’m not one man trying to protect a mother and a child. I’ve told you this before. If you don’t stop doubting me, sweetheart, then I’m going to become irritated.”

“It’s not you I doubt. Sometimes…” She swallowed tightly, fear flashing in her eyes, “fate—Lady Luck—doesn’t often favor the good guy, Jordan.”

He had to grin at that. “But baby, I’m Irish. Fate, Lady Luck, the Muses,
and
the gods. They love me.”

And he was bragging even as he knocked on wood. It wasn’t Fate, Lady Luck, or any other mythical force. It was preparedness, knowing what he was facing, and never taking things at face value.

“Do you expect Ascarti to be at the party tonight?” she asked as she moved away from him, no doubt to hide the hurt that he hadn’t returned the words of love she had whispered.

His heart ached at the refusal. There were days, nights that he worried about the question himself, but refused to answer it.

He was prepared, but he also knew better than to tempt the future. He wouldn’t make plans, he refused to delve too deeply into the unfamiliar emotions that sometimes assailed him. Not until it was finished. Not until he knew he wasn’t going to lose her, or God forbid, that she, his men, and their families, were left without his protection.

He almost grinned at his thoughts. As though he could control any of it. But it sure as hell made him sleep better at night knowing he had done all he could to cover all the angles he could think of.

“I don’t expect Ascarti to be at the party tonight,” he finally told her. “He won’t show his hand so easily. Nor would his handler.”

“His handler?” She turned back to him, those thick, luscious waves of red-gold curls flowing around her as those mysterious green eyes narrowed on him. “Sorrel’s dead.”

Jordan gave a sharp nod as he moved to the bar, aware of her gaze following him as he passed her to prop himself on one of the bar stools.

“Sorrel’s dead,” he agreed. “But Ascarti isn’t a man who can work alone, nor is he capable of leading his men effectively without a powerful commander.”

Giving her that information wasn’t something he wanted to do. Tehya, like anyone else, was more comfortable putting a face to the demons that chased her. Unfortunately, he couldn’t give her that option yet.

She sighed heavily.

“I think I knew that,” she answered, her voice bleak. “Then that leaves us wondering who the hell is pulling the strings.”

He inclined his head in agreement before going to her again. This time, he didn’t give her the option of pulling away from him.

Gripping her waist, he lifted her onto the bar and stepped easily between her hips. Her position was perfect to angle the engorged length of his cock against the heated mound of her pussy as her gaze darkened in immediate arousal. Her face flushed, her expression softening as the powerful waves of need he knew she felt began to wash through her.

He knew she felt it. He felt it. It was like tidal waves of hunger, almost impossible to resist.

Sliding his fingers into the heavy length of curls to cup the back of her head, Jordan held her still for his kiss. A taste of the perfection of her lips before he had to become a dead man and live in the shadows away from her.

To save her.

His tongue flicked at her lips, feeling them part as his lips slanted over them and he pulled her to him. The feel of her arms sliding around his neck, holding him to her as her fingers threaded through his hair, had his cock stiffening to the point of pain.

He’d fucked her most of the night, drowning his senses in every touch, every kiss, every whispered moan he could pull from her until they had collapsed in exhaustion close to dawn.

And still, he wanted her.

He needed her just as much as, perhaps more than, the first time he’d had her.

“Damn.” Dragging his lips back from hers, he stared down at her, his breathing harsh, the impulse to pull her jeans to her ankles and fuck her like a man desperate for that connection was almost impossible to resist. And he had to resist. The party was only hours away and he would need all his senses intact to end this here and to ensure Tehya’s future.